The following letter was written to the associates of the aptly-named Grey Advertising in 1947 by Bill Bernbach, the then Creative Director.
Our agency is getting big. That’s something to be happy about. But it’s something to worry about, too, and I don’t mind telling you I’m damned worried. I’m worried that that we’re going to fall into the trap of bigness, that we’re going to worship the techniques instead of substance, that we’re going to follow history instead of making it, that we’re going to be drowned by superficialities instead of buoyed by sudden fundamentals.
I’m worried lest hardening of creative arteries begin to set in.
There are a lot of great technicians in advertising. And unfortunately they talk the best game. They know all of the rules. They can tell you that people in an ad will get you greater readership. They can tell you that a sentence should be this sort or that long. They can tell you that body copy should be broken up for easier reading. They can give you fact after fact after fact. They are the scientists of advertising. But there is one little rub. Advertising is fundamentally persuasion and persuasion happens to be not a science, but an art.
It’s that creative spark that I’m so jealous of for our agency and I am so desperately fearful of losing. I don’t want academicians, I don’t want scientists. I want people who do the right things, I want people who do inspiring things.
In the past year I must have interviewed about 80 people — writers and artists. Many of them were from so-called giants of the agency field. It was appalling to see how few of these people were genuinely creative. Sure, they had advertising know-how. Yes, they were up on advertising technique.
But look beyond the technique and what did you find? A sameness, a mental weariness, a mediocrity of ideas. But they could defend every ad on the basis that it obeyed the rules of advertising. It was like worshipping a ritual instead of the God.
All of this is not to say technique is unimportant. Superior, technical skill will make any good man better. But the danger is a preoccupation with technical skill or the mistaking of technical skill for creative ability.
The danger lies in the temptation to buy routinized men who have a formula for advertising. The danger lies in the natural tendency to go after the tried-and-true talent that will not make us stand out in competition but rather make us look like all of the others.
If we are to advance we must emerge as a distinctive personality. We must develop our own philosophy and not have the advertising philosophy of others imposed upon us.
Let us blaze new trails. Let us prove to the world that good taste, good art and good writing can be good selling.
Respectfully,
Bill Bernbach
May15, 1947
Bernbach was 38 at the time he wrote his famous inter-departmental memo and due to the lack of enthusiasm he left to start his own agency; Doyle Dane Bernbach (DDB).
By 1986 the agency group had worldwide billings of $1.7 billion, 54 offices in 19 countries, and 3,400 employees.
In 1982, at the time of his death, Harpers Magazine wrote that Bernbach “probably had a greater impact on American Culture than any of the distinguished writers and artists who have appeared in the pages of Harpers in the last 133 years.”
When asked about the secret of his agency’s success he responded that
I had a tremendous advantage in having with me partners who do what I don’t do well. We would have been bankrupt if we were all creative. I’ve always felt fortunate that I was released to think purely in terms of the work itself; that I had as my partners men who gave me a completely free hand to run my end of the business. I was able to develop a philosophy of advertising that was never bastardized and therefore had a certain purity and effectiveness.
His words are as applicable today to the startup industry as they were back then to advertisers.
I have tweaked it slightly…
Our company is getting big. That’s something to be happy about. But it’s something to worry about, too, and I don’t mind telling you I’m damned worried. I’m worried that that we’re going to fall into the trap of bigness, that we’re going to worship the techniques instead of substance, that we’re going to follow history instead of making it, that we’re going to be drowned by superficialities instead of buoyed by sudden fundamentals.
I’m worried lest hardening of creative arteries begin to set in.
There are a lot of great technicians in software engineering. And unfortunately they talk the best game. They know all of the rules. They can tell you that waiting times in an app will lose you users. They can tell you that a UX should be this sort or that colour. They can tell you that body copy should be below the fold for easier reading. They can give you fact after fact after fact. They are the scientists of organisations. But there is one little rub. Startups are fundamentally persuasion and persuasion happens to be not a science, but an art.
It’s that creative spark that I’m so jealous of for our company and I am so desperately fearful of losing. I don’t want academicians, I don’t want scientists. I want people who do the right things, I want people who do inspiring things.
In the past year I must have interviewed about 80 people — coders and business developers. Many of them were from so-called giants of the startup field. It was appalling to see how few of these people were genuinely creative. Sure, they had coding know-how. Yes, they were up on engineering technique.
But look beyond the technique and what did you find? A sameness, a mental weariness, a mediocrity of ideas. But they could defend every app on the basis that it obeyed the rules of software. It was like worshipping a ritual instead of the God.
All of this is not to say technique is unimportant. Superior, technical skill will make any good man better. But the danger is a preoccupation with technical skill or the mistaking of technical skill for creative ability.
The danger lies in the temptation to buy routinized men who have a formula for startups. The danger lies in the natural tendency to go after the tried-and-true talent that will not make us stand out in competition but rather make us look like all of the others.
If we are to advance we must emerge as a distinctive personality. We must develop our own philosophy and not have the startup philosophy of others imposed upon us.
Let us blaze new trails. Let us prove to the world that good ideas, good coding and good design can be good selling.
I have hijacked the work of a titan like Bernbach to which I would only add one improvement. He stated that
“persuasion happens to be not a science, but an art.”
I would argue it is neither art nor science but an art we should apply scientifically.