There’s only one way to resolve the differences in opinion from these generations of copywriters… fight!
Wow, Howard Fletcher, John Salmon, Barbara Nokes, Tony Brignull…
So many of my copywriting heroes all in one room together (Elena’s L’Etoile was clearly the most appropriate venue for the copy titans of the 70s and 80s to meet).
Rather than write about their opinions, and those of the modern writers (no offence to them but I can’t quite use the word ‘equivalents’ here), I’m going to let you have a gander at that clip and let me know what, if anything, it brings up for you. Then I’m going to take the bits you and I found most interesting and drag them out into next few days of posts. So if you’re an AD, or a bit thick, just pop back on Friday for the weekend links.
Meanwhile, the copywriters amongst you might like to take this census. It’s the reason the little video was made, so shove your tuppence worth in the cyberslot and feel like you’ve just done something worthwhile or something utterly pointless – I have no idea what they intend to do with the results of the survey, so I don’t know if you should give it hours of consideration or just wipe your cyberarse with it.
The choice is yours!
PS: ‘Madmen v Mavens’? I appreciate the attempt at alliteration, but it’s a bit odd/poor that they’ve gone with something that’s somewhat tautological. The ‘Madmen’ are also ‘Mavens’; many would argue they have a more substantial claim to that word than the people in the Clapham gastropub, one of whom is a junior copywriter. I mean, if you’re going to stand for the promotion of excellence in the written word, write the right fucking words on your YouTube clip, FFS…
My age would put me at the kids’ table but here’s my thoughts.
The old guard sound like they miss the days when they had 2 weeks to write a 300 word ad about handkerchiefs that would earn them a couple of Lions and a big, fat pay rise.
I’d miss those days too. But they’re gone and they’re not coming back. And nor should they.
Advertising isn’t a one-way broadcast industry anymore. So the writing has to change.
On the other table, the kids all seemed to say the same thing. There’s no time to write good.
This is sort of true. But it’s no excuse.
To borrow from another writer, ‘there is no great writing, only great rewriting’.
And rewriting takes time.
And time costs money.
So fuck it, apparently, is the agency model now.
To be honest, I don’t agree with either table.
I think good writing is good writing.
Whether it comes in an Oxbridge print ad about fountain pens, or an East London Tweet about jeans.
We shouldn’t all aspire to be masters of long copy and witty headlines. We should simply aspire to be good writers.
Good writing doesn’t care where it happens. And it doesn’t all sound the same. Good writing is whatever connects with your audience.
We should take pride in our words because they are our trade.
And time and budget willing, we should do our best to write the best words we can.
Whether it’s a page full ad or Tweet.
I don’t think the modern copywriters were honest.
They sounded like a lot of agency people in meetings today – scared.
The older guys have nothing to lose so they can speak from the heart.
But the reality is their words no longer have any power. Unfortunately. Perhaps if they do a poster campaign highlighting the issue people would hear them.
I might be an Art Director but like most of my brethren I’ve been known to knock out the odd line.
e.g. ‘Platforms are back’ (for the National Railway Museum.
…I rest my case.
I want to mock the Mavens but I can’t bring myself to do it. Partly because they are so young, partly because they still have the light of hope in their eyes, partly because their views sometimes coincided with the so called Madmen (and me by default) and partly because I might be arrested for trolling.
But “super-exciting?”
Oh dear. That really wasn’t a fair fight.
Intelligence vs Ineptitude.
And the hat? Really?
I blame computers for the downfall of craft. Back then, when you wanted to change the font of a headline, you had to be really sure about it. It took considerable time, effort, and most of all money. Now it’s 10 seconds to change it. It makes the clients lose the awe and respect they used to have for art directors and writers. Because if they can buy a digital camera and start taking selfies, they immediately think they’ve become an artist themselves. Or that writing a blog makes them writers. Also, holding companies.
A long time ago I wrote a post about that very subject:
http://www.ben-kay.com/2009/07/how-creativity-died/
That’s a great post Ben. And because your wrote it in the style of Arnold Schwarzenegger recounting the rise of skynet and the end of the world, I read it that way.
The twat with blue hair and the knob with a headband who sounds like Jessica thingy in 2012.
I think it was Whitney who said “I believe the children are our future”.
I’m afraid to say I’m loathe to agree…
Oriel: “There’s no time to write good”. Jesus. Calls himself a copywriter.
But the fact that everyone in the video missed is that around a fifth of the people who leave school today are functionally illiterate. What’s the point of crafting a beautiful message to people who can’t read? The clients clocked this years ago and copywriting died the death there and then.
If you want to learn to write, read PG Wodehouse.
Did that girl say she loves playing with words?
Now and always, you’re as good as the client that lets you write good copy. Sadly those clients seem to disappear, even from accounts that used to be great. There used to be great clients… now, not so much. The old writers seem to forget the fact that the industry seems to be losing these trusting clients, it was easier in the old days… But it is a bit worrying that these young and scared writers think things are as good as in the old days… are they insane? Nah, I think they’re in denial. Advertising (and obviously copywriting) is not as good as it used to be, is a fact.
Hi, I was in this.
I’m the incredibly junior, awkwardly over-enthusiastic one.
When I first saw the film I was pretty upset.
They hadn’t included some of the really interesting things brought up over the breakfast (or they were partially put in but without any context – eg my first bit, which makes no sense at all without the context of the conversation).
Instead they chose clips of me blithering on nervously about how ‘super excited’ twitter made me.
I called them up to voice my concerns, and they said that they picked those bits because they wanted to show that the youth still had enthusiasm and passion for writing.
Which – though I would have preferred to appear a little more intelligent and a little less Jessica Hynes (great call by the way ‘Oh God’) – I guess I don’t mind too much, because I should be passionate about what I do for a living.
In answer to the hyperbolic question ‘is copywriting dead’, I believe that obviously, no, it isn’t. It’s changed.
We’re in a fast paced world. We aren’t normally given the time to craft beautiful long copy, but likewise consumers don’t normally have the time to read it.
And while my 140 character tweets might not impress a panel of judges, they certainly have impressed and amused the real people that are buying from the brands.
If tweets are engaging customers, then damn right I’ll get excited writing them as well as I can.
‘Oh God’ shouldn’t be worried about the future of copywriting.
Juniors like myself – the ‘knob in a headband’ – still have a lot to learn, but we’re still passionate about producing good work in whichever medium we need to.
People say they don’t see good copywriting anymore, but maybe that’s because we aren’t celebrating it in its new form… or encouraging those writing it.
Hi Helen.
Thanks for stopping by.
Damn the media and their agenda (that is a genuine comment, by the way – no sarcasm intended). I’ve done a few things like that (interviews etc.), but you never have any idea what the thrust will be or, in your case, how they might want to use what you say to make a point that you’re not really making.
I for one was glad to see that there is dedication to the craft in the (sorry if this sounds patronising) next generation.
Keep the enthusiasm up. In the end it’s really all you’ll need.
Looked a bit like the squabble near the end of the Apprentice. The old folks won and got to eat at the Ivy while the young ones (..er, some not so young) ate spam sandwiches at the Grubby Diner.
Why split them up? It would’ve been more interesting if they were all in the one room, perhaps a Holiday Inn in Bracknell ?
‘It’s about making content engaging.’
*puts gun in mouth*
Also, why did they only interview DM writers?
I found this fascinating. Two things really struck me:
1. The confidence of the two juniors. In my first year in advertising I kept my head down and didn’t say boo to a mouse. Being able to speak on camera with that kind of manner would have been out of the question. But power to them (and for having the guts to post a comment on here too – nice one).
2. I’m about 30 years younger than most of the old table but I do put myself in their camp. Except for one comment that I vehemently disagree with – factory tours. I’ve done several (ranging from a meat processing plant – nearly vomited – to a chain of Caribbean resorts – nice junket) but honestly, all of them left me with the worst writer’s block ever. It’s like seeing behind the curtain – makes it very hard to sell the idea of something – all you can think about is the cold, horrible reality (cows heads in motorised buckets). I refuse to go on them now.
If I weren’t such an emotionally bankrupt individual (15 years of Zoloft will do that), I’d be tearing up at that video.
Age-wise, I sit somewhere between the two groups.
The old guys are the reason I wanted to work in advertising.
The kids are the reason I increasingly think I should get the fuck out.
Somewhere in the middle of my career, things changed.
Talented people stopped being allowed to make great ads. They became an inconvenience. They’re tolerated, to a point, but they’re no longer respected. And they’re never paid what they’re worth.
I’m on the job market. It’s no fucking fun whatsoever.
I have a pretty decent book. Without wanting to come across as a total cock, a lot better than many of the people (and agencies) I find interviewing me.
I’ve also spent a lot of time being the guy that kids could go to for help improving their work (again, trying not to sound like a cock).
But, as I’ve come to realise: no one gives a fucking fuck.
At age 46, I’m a fucking dinosaur.
Which is a bit sad, as I’m a better writer than I’ve ever been.
It drives me mad that this morning some ungrateful sod will be handed a brief full of potential, without the necessary skills or insight to really get under its skin and craft a solution to within an inch of its life, whilst most of my generation has to make do with writing whatever fucking website copy comes their way for a fraction of the salary their experience and expertise deserves.
If we could just turn this business back into a meritocracy (maybe it never was), and get rid of thinking that old people are shit, the work would improve dramatically.
By writing this, I’ve now successfully changed my mood from sadness to anger.
How many of you little motherfuckers can do that?
Oh, and if anyone wants to offer a not-really-that-old CD/copywriter a half-decent job, I’m actually all sunshine and light.