Does the sign on the door help or hinder creativity?

Back in the day, in many agencies the principle of demarcation was as strong as it was in British Leyland.

There was a job for everyone, and everyone knew their job. And everyone knew their place as well.

Account Handlers handled accounts and creatives created. 

The only ones with a foot in both camps were the planners. Planners were – and may still be - a super-race of intellectual giants who not only knew what sold, but why.

In one of the best guidebooks to advertising that I ever read – Advertising for Account Handlers by Nigel Linacre – there’s a whole passage on what account handlers don’t do. 

They don’t write, and they don’t draw. They don’t have the final say on what the ad looks like or sounds like. They don’t buy media, they don’t produce. 

They don’t even look after the project as it makes its way through the agency. That’s the job of traffic.

In the first couple of agencies I worked in I was fascinated by this split between the various people whose job was, after all the same – to contribute to great ideas.

The first time I walked past a sign saying “Creative Department”, I was sorely tempted to look on the back of the door for a corresponding sign saying “Uncreative Department”. 

You know, to signal where ideas ended and boring people started.

Like the inscription “Here be dragons”, but “Here be normals” instead.

When I moved into sales promotion, I found the battle lines less rigidly enforced. Here, creativity was as much a function of account handling as it was of the creative department. 

And that suited me perfectly.

I believe that creativity – and the skills and attitudes that lead to great ideas – need to take root throughout any agency, client company or consultancy. 

And in this belief, I’m standing on the shoulders of giants. Two of my favourite Sirs, Ken Robinson and Martin Sorrell, are firm believers in “integrated creativity”.

An integrated creativity that is encouraged in everyone, not just those bearing the title “creative”.

If you want a sign to replace the one that says “Creative Department”, I have one for you. A sign you could put on the door of every meeting room, conversation space or board room where brainstorms might take place.

It’s borrowed from an organisation called “Toc H”, set up in the First World War to allow soldiers and officers to meet, converse, and share on a completely equal footing.

And it says “All rank abandon, ye who enter here”.

Health campaigns save lives, and save money. So why cut them?

Unbelievable, isn’t it?

In response to a parliamentary question recently, Health Minister Simon Burns revealed that UK Government spend on health advertising this year has been cut from £60.3m to £4.2m. Not cut BY £4.2m, but cut TO £4.2m.

Even to my non-mathematical mind, that’s a cut of more than 90%. By any standards, it’s a hell of a cut.

That’s not surgery, that’s trauma. In fact, it’s sick. (And I don't mean sick as a good thing - "it's well sick, innit?"). 

Because if ever the argument “It’s not a cost, it’s an investment” applied, it is to health advertising. Health advertising works. It reduces illness. It saves lives.

Yes, we’re in a recession. A deep recession. So we should be looking for ways to save money.

But if you want to save money Mr Burns, you need to increase health advertising.

Health advertising isn’t a huge cost – but treating seriously ill patients is.

This came home to me at a Marketing Society event last year when I watched The Bridge advertising agency demonstrate the results of a small-scale, low-budget campaign to raise awareness of bowel cancer in (mostly) men over fifty.

The PowerPoint wasn’t great, but the results were. The NHS had sent out the usual self-testing kits, but in this case had also run an ad campaign designed to increase participation. And awareness had risen dramatically, both prompted and unprompted, all that marketing speak. And participation had increased dramatically too.

But most importantly, as more people had participated, many, many more instances of suspected cancer had been found. Pre-cancerous traces identified and treated – and therefore, lives saved.

But let’s forget about the lives saved. Let’s think like the Government think. Purely in financial terms.

Many of those people with pre-cancerous symptoms would have gone on to develop bowel cancer. These cancers are not only nasty, and potentially fatal, they are also expensive to treat. Very, very expensive.

It costs a lot more to treat someone once the cancer has developed than it does if it is caught at an early stage. Millions and millions of pounds. Certainly, a lot more than a few 48 sheet posters and TV commercials.

A 90% cut in the health advertising budget isn’t just short-sighted, it’s stupid.  It is saving a penny now to pay a pound later.

And in case you think this is a whine based on self interest, it isn’t. Well, not wholly. I don’t work in health advertising. I don’t work for an agency with health advertising business. But I do have an interest.

Because the presentation I saw last year finally convinced me to take my own testing kit out of the bottom drawer. No pun intended.

I fasted. I locked myself in the loo. Then I undertook the strangest sampling campaign I’ve ever been involved in.

And I sent it off. Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually post my poo. Well, except to Piers Morgan.

Back came the response – “we have some concerns”. Within a few days they had me in hospital, for a full “investigation”. You don’t want to know the details. No, honestly.

I was clear. And clean, as it happens. But if I hadn’t been “clear”, they could probably have treated it there and then. They may well have saved a life – they very definitely would have saved money.

You see, Mr Burns? It’s not a cost. It’s an investment. 

Creativity Tip - Stick-to-it-ness

I recently read an interview with James Dyson, creator of both the cyclonic vacuum cleaner and my favourite recent invention, the Dyson Air-Blade™ hand drier. (Even although it makes my hands look like Buzz Lightyear’s face under G Force when I use it).

In the interview he repeated the fact that it had taken 15 years and over five thousand prototypes to develop the Dyson DC-01. Five thousand!

There’s a temptation to think of innovation and invention as an act of instant inspiration. For most creators, however, that inspiration is brought to life through hours, days, weeks – or even years – of development work.

So you need to stick to it. Honing, perfecting, improving – and if you believe you have a great idea, have faith and carry on.

And sometimes, the persistence you show pays off in unexpected ways. I was lucky enough to see the brilliant adman Dave Trott present last week, and he told the story of one of the most famous campaigns in British advertising, “I bet he drinks Carling Black Label”. The line fitted perfectly with the brand, and was at the heart of a campaign that ran for almost two decades (and was brought back years later).

But it wasn’t written for Carling – it was written for a pitch for the Milk Marketing Board. “I bet he drinks milk”.

Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?

There's a brilliant ad appearing on TV at the moment, promoting School Diplomas. Produced on behalf of the Department of Education, the commercial shows rapper Kano completing the recording of his new single, then walking through the crowd of technicians and production staff.

As the 'staff' are identified by name and role, we realise that they are not professionals, but actually kids studying for diplomas in the key roles of construction, sound, PR, Business Admin etc.

It's a superb example of solving the problem creatively by looking within. How do we encourage kids to take up the Diploma (which connects academic study with workplace learning)? Why don't we show students actually producing something - and it's a brilliant and effective use of a celebrity who makes sense in terms of connecting with the target audience.

You can watch the ad here

Naturally, the ad has created some opposition (great ideas always do). The Times covered it with the headline "Foul-mouthed rapper helps Ed Balls". But reading Kano's response in an interview published online here in The Guardian I think his heart is in the right place. But maybe the next single should speak out against knife and gun culture, Kano?