One advertising executive set out to be a beekeeper in the Outback. Another studied chemistry, earning a Ph.D. from Harvard. A third built irrigation ditches in Africa. To a man, each became a power broker at three of the planet’s biggest advertising agencies — and each was interviewed by Advertising Age, the industry trade publication, as part of a subscription promotion.
Having come from the world of advertising, I am highly skeptical. It’s not that the stories told are untrue, it’s more about the degree to which those stories were bent to get them conform to the desired shape. My skepticism refuses to bend; few advertising executives enter the field accidentally. Fame and fortune, most often, require an active decision.
Accidents are romantic, not advertising.
A long time ago, I graduated from the second best art school in the country. A graphic design degree was bestowed. At the time, I thought I was very good.
We were taught that all great design was grounded in great ideas and I was a never-ending fountain. Interesting ideas. The ideas of a literate man. In the art world I occupied, literacy was uncommon—and I had no idea.
I always believed a great design told a great story and, despite my vocation, I always believed the image served the word in the world of business communications. As David Ogilvy, one of history’s most successful agency founders used to say, “the more you tell, the more you sell.”
Between graduation and today, my career has had many incarnations. From the creation of an advertising campaign that filled Madison Square Garden to the management of a nationwide sales force purveying medical device repairs, I’ve positioned companies to realize hundreds of millions in new revenue.
Having re-awakened media properties, launched consumer brands, educated physicians and designed product packaging that moved marketers toward a very profitable retail checkout, I’ve started a business writing for business.
All this by accident? You tell me.
—