“But Hitler wasn’t all bad. He built the autobahns.” Plus: How to know if you too are a very stable genius.

Back in the day, Ogilvy turned out

classy ads like these for classy 

clients. Today, alas, not so much.

Keep reading for the Hitler part.

If you follow the advertising trade press — or pass your time reading Buzzfeed — you may already be aware of the brouhaha that’s been kicked up at the advertising agency, Ogilvy.

The agency was founded in 1947 by the late, utterly charming, and brilliant advertising great, David Ogilvy. One of its founding principles was flat out integrity. “The consumer is not a moron, she is your wife,” Ogilvy thundered. 

Another of the agency’s principles had to do with quality and class. Perhaps the only thing David Ogilvy ever stole was his agency’s motto. And Ogilvy, with disarming honesty, admitted outright that he stole it. He lifted it from, of all people, the banker J.P. Morgan. “Only first class business, and that in a first class way.”

Alas, the definitions of what is first class, what is business, and even what advertising is all about, have changed since then. There are many forces at work, from the merciless advance of technology, to the greedy consolidation of ad agencies back in the 1990s that switched the focus at most ad agencies from doing great work for great clients, to making damn sure management hits its financial targets, no matter what else you have to do to get there.

The commotion

about Ogilvy

Which brings us to the sort of semi-scandal brewing around Ogilvy today. Long gone are Rolls Royce, Hathaway Shirts, Schweppes, and some of the other accounts that made the agency famous. In its place are clients like — God! I hate even to write the name — U.S. Customs and Border Protection. You know. Immigrants fleeing persecution getting busted and handcuffed  Kids ripped from their parents' arms and stuffed into cages. Adults in lockups squeezed so closely together they can’t sit down or lie down. Cool stuff like that.

Some of the folks who actually do the work, in Ogilvy’s Eleventh Avenue boiler room in a repurposed Manhattan chocolate factory, and around the world, balked. Buzzfeed got hold of the story and initially did some fairly egregious misreporting, ranging from the age of the agency (It was founded in 1947, not 1850), to the notion that Ogilvy was handling the PR for the border guards. They’re not. Ogilvy’s assignment is to do ads recruiting more people to the border patrol's ranks. For some reason — I can’t imagine what it might be — Trump’s government seems to be having a problem doing this.

Nevertheless, the report kicked up such a hullaballoo that on July 9th, Ogilvy’s CEO, John Seifert, decided to calm the roiling waters by holding a company meeting in New York, with people in remote offices plugged into the conversation.

Early on in the meeting, Seifert pleaded for “confidentiality” and asked that no one record the conference. So of course, somebody made sure to do just that , and then turned the recording over to Buzzfeed, which printed a transcript of it. If you have some time to read it all, it’s worth a perusal. But for me, two points stand out.

First, well into the lengthy meeting, Seifert in effect said that if you don’t like the way things are, leave.

Seifert: Let me give you a separate view. If your line is no company, whether it's product defect, whether it's breakdown of operational safety, whether it's a formulation that didn't serve a particular constituency, if your line is we should not work for clients at that risk level, then you shouldn't be here. Because the fact is we cannot hold that line of expectation and assume that we'll work for anybody.

Which isn’t all that different, when you think about it, from Donald Trump telling the Congressional squad of women of color to leave and fix the countries “they came from” if they don't like it here. Never mind that three of the four come from the United States.

Second, there was a vague echo from a line in the old movie Judgment at Nuremberg, about the post WWII Nazi war crimes trials. An old German woman tells an American judge, played by Spencer Tracy  “I won’t say that Hitler was all bad. He built the autobahns.”

Here’s Seifert:

Seifert: What I'm saying is that as an employee of the company, you can look at this all on a spectrum. Right now, we as a company have made the choice to work with a variety of government agencies, that we believe, in the main, they have the intention, a mission, a commitment to do the right thing. You have one aspect of this particular agency that is absolutely overwhelmed and failing to deliver on what most of us would agree, they should be, a standard they should be trying to live up to.

See, they’re not all bad. I mean, sure, they have this little thing about busting up families and turning little kids into virtual orphans, and imprisoning people in crowded, filthy spaces, and chattering about it approvingly on social media. But I won't say they're all bad. They have a commitment to do the right thing.

Listen, without going into details, I’ve met Seifert. He comes across as a nice guy. In most respects not pertaining to this matter, he is a nice guy. And given that his own survival and that of many of his employees, in part depends on his turning over to his parent conglomerate, WPP, the income that Ogilvy makes from the border cops, he’s got a real problem. Whether inadvertently or not, he got his dick stuck in a wringer. And now he can’t seem to get it out.

David Ogilvy's not-so-secret

secret confession

 David Ogilvy must be turning in his grave. Late in his life, in 1994, he gave an "off the-record talk" to his company's board of directors at Touffou, the medieval castle in France that he bought with some of the proceeds from taking his company public. Like just about every secret off-the-record talk, the record has leaked out. I happen to have a copy of it. 

Ogilvy was nearing the end of his life, almost certainly knew it, and felt the need to do some confessing. Here's one of his confessions: 

"I made a terrible mistake in going public." (Underlining his own.)

It was from that mistake that all other tragedies at the ad agency sprung — from the hostile takeover of his company by WPP, to the necessity of bedding down with clients controlled by the Trumpistas.

Were he still living, Ogilvy might abandon his First Class Business motto for another:

Lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas.

But I won’t leave you

on that grim note.

So instead, Donald Trump.

No doubt many people who’ve listened to and watched Donald Trump have wondered how they, too, could become very stable geniuses.

Like everything else Donald Trump does, it’s easy. Take real estate transactions, for example.

As the shopworn maxim about real estate goes, they’re not making any more of it. So most of the time, if you buy a piece of real estate, and just hold on to it, you’re almost certain to make money when you sell. Ask nearly any American who’s bought and some years later sold a house or a condo.

What's more, if the real estate in question is an iconic landmark that also happens to be a hotel where people will pay top dollar to stay, who knows how many millions of dollars you could make?

Unless you’re Donald Trump.

Mad-As-Hell-Men (or Why I Haven't Posted in a While)

I started in advertising during the "Madmen" era. I think the TV show by that name has the office architecture of the time right, but the spirit wrong. I got into the business and and stayed in it because everybody in the better ad agencies was having fun.

Yes, there was smoking, and drinking (and later on marijuana-ing) not to mention tons of fornicating. But all those people on Madmen go about it with such intense, gloomy, humorless earnestness. We were having a ball – telling stories about this one who woke up in the wrong bed on Christmas morning, and that one, who woke up on New Year's eve on a pland to the opposite coast with somebody from the office, not his wife, snuggling up to him him, and the one whose secretary-and-girlfriend parked what turned out to be a stolen Mercedes in his suburban driveway "just for a few days," before she vanished. And then his wife began asking question.

But it's all changed. Now, in real life ad agencies, it's  gloom without even the cheating. I don't think those poor bastards could even find the time to cheat.

I got called into an ad agency (which I shall not name here) to do some freelance work a few days ago. The pay by the hour is pretty pathetic by my old advertising agency standards, but they work so many hours you can make it up on volume.

And I keep having the feeling that I'm behind a barbed wire fence, maybe an electrified barbed wire fence, and that the guards in the tower have instructions to shoot anyone who tries to get over it.

Hey, it's no fun. But then, the only fun these days is getting enjoyed by the one percent who on Saturday mornings get in their golf carts and head for the next hole.

With the new wife.

Besides, a man's gotta work so a man can eat.

See you when the gig is up.

A once-bad ad agency becomes a lot worse

Years ago, in its heydey, an advertising agency named for its founder, Ted Bates, was both famous and infamous.

It was the agency famous for showing hammers banging inside peoples’ heads in TV commercials that promised, “Fast, fast, fast relief” with Anacin. It was famous for selling M&M candy by telling people it “melts in your mouth, not in your hand.” These lines, promising a distinctive product benefit, were called “USPs” or unique selling propositions.

But infamously, some of the selling lines, like the one promising fast, fast, fast relief, brought to mind a movie called The Hucksters. In one scene, the film portrayed a client who deliberately spits a gob of saliva on an ad agency conference room table and then declares:

“Gentlemen, I’ve just done a disgusting thing. But you’ll never forget it.”

Ted Bates did that sort of work. Disgusting. But unforgettable. I never worked there, but I knew some copywriters who did. They went through the workweek in a state of overwhelming depression. Their most animated moments were those they spent plotting to jump ship for a better advertising agency where they could proud of their work.

But at least you knew what Ted Bates stood for. And at least you knew what the products it advertised were supposed to do for you. No longer.

These days, Ted Bates is just “bates.” Yes, with a lowercase b. Why this affectation?

Perhaps because bates, now merely another generic cog in the wheels of an advertising conglomerate, has little else to say or show for itself. WPP, the company that now owns bates, is one of a handful of advertising conglomerates that literally control the business. And what advertising agencies are supposed to produce first and foremost these days is not memorable advertising, but big profits for the parent conglomerate.

If bates can’t be famous for what they do any more, perhaps they can be famous for an all lower-case name, and a new logo that has some comic book voice balloons in it. That seems to be what substitutes for thinking these days. Pathetic!

Even more pathetic is that the new bates has evidently forgotten how to communicate in plain English. They’ve gone from ugly-but-straightforwward shouting at TV viewers about headache relief, to locutional blubbering worthy of Jacques Derrida.

Here is one of their “regional chairman” explaining what the advertising agency is all about, as reported in an English trade journal named Brand Republic. Notice that he never mentions advertising:

"Change has always been what we do best, and remains so. In a world where change is so rapid and fundamental, being change experts is even more relevant than ever. However, our insights on change need to lead to an active benefit to clients. It needs a sharper ear to the ground, an understanding of inflection points, and real time action," said Tim Isaac, regional chairman of bates.

And this means what in terms of the look, language, drama and brand images created by advertising?

My guess is, absolutely nothing.

The late Rosser Reeves, the genius behind the USP at Bates and the ugly-but-perfectly-clear ads that emerged from it, must be rolling around in his grave.

Holy cow! A how-to book on advertising that's especially useful for small business owners and beginners. And – wheee! – reading it is a joy ride.

When I meet Jay Heyman, author of the new book, “All You Need Is A Good Idea” for lunch (which I’ve been doing now on average once a month for over 20 years) we usually avoid arguing about advertising principles and fight about something else instead. There's a reason.

Dueling theories
of advertising

We’re both advertising copywriters by trade. (Writing cranky tirades is just a sideline for me.) But we come from opposing schools of thought. I cut my advertising teeth at the atelier of the late David Ogilvy who preached, “The more you tell, the more you sell.” Long ad copy was king at David’s shop, at least in those days.

Heyman, on the other hand, seems to have learned his point of view from Mies van der Rohe, an architect, not an adman, who proclaimed that, “less is more.” Or as Heyman re-states the principle in his book, “Don’t talk so much.”

So at lunch we speak of things other than how to advertise, lest our regular meetings over pastrami sandwiches begin to resemble the final conference of, say, Sheriff Pat Garrett and Billy The Kid (I leave it to you to decide which of us is which) with pickles and cole slaw flying instead of bullets. If it ever happens it’ll be the food fight of the century.

“Burgering” the mayor

None of this should be taken to mean that Heyman’s school of say-it-quick-and-run advertising doesn’t have its notable virtues. For example Heyman, now a partner in the boutique Porte Advertising agency, coined the memorable line for his client, The Stage Deli and its famously over-stuffed sandwiches, “Celebrating 70 Years of Excess.” That just about says it all.

Heyman also got the deli to rename one of its hamburgers “The Mayor Bloomberger,” and actually got the Mayor to come to the deli and eat one, thus generating a brief storm of valuable-but-free publicity. Hey, it doesn’t work when you’re selling Rolls Royce automobiles, but I’ll bet it moved a heck of a lot of chopped sirloin.

Advertising 101

The advice that Heyman dispenses is practical and likely to be helpful to most people whose living depends on creating or judging advertising, even if the advice is a bit basic in spots. For example, he doesn’t get into the techniques such as counting direct mail responses, gauging return on investment, recording web clicks and other measurements that you can use to determine advertising effectiveness.

But what the book lacks in tutoring on advanced technique, it more than makes up for in basic advice for small businesses and others, often couched in deliciously-written copy. Consider his warning on coming up with a klunker of an idea, “Get it wrong and you will suffer the death of a thousand silent cash registers.”

The book also contains illuminating case histories, and wonderful advertising yarns that will have most Madison Avenue veterans nodding in recognition. I’ll excerpt just one of them here, since I really do hope you’ll run out and buy a copy.

This tale, which Heyman builds around a stumble in his own career, explains how fragile a good idea is, and how eagerly “helpful” colleagues in an advertising agency will flock to kill it:

With friends like this
he didn’t need enemies

…It was a new business pitch for Drambuie, an after dinner drink that is a blend of scotch whiskies, heather honey and, naturally, a secret recipe. Lots of pressure, lots of prestige for the winning creative and therefore lots of politics in the agency. The odds of anyone other than a very senior creative (which I was not) having their work considered was, well, you know the usual story.

... I wanted to focus on the fact that Drambuie was rarely served before or during a meal. It was only served following a meal…

…I found myself with the idea of using arresting black and white portraits of famous influential historic icons. Each of them was a significant leader in whatever field they were involved with. The good idea was not just the unusual look of the page. It was the combination of words that was the headline in every ad in the campaign.

For example, you had photos of three impressive notables in one ad: Andy Warhol, Winston Churchill and George Bernard Shaw. Plus a headline writ large: There Have Been Many Great Leaders…But Only One Great Follower.

Next to the bottle, at the bottom of the ad, was the claim, “Drambuie Liqueur. Nothing Follows A Great Dinner Better.”

...Agreed, it was a good idea. Even top management of the agency in charge of the presentation recognized its worth and praised it. And then came what you have to beware of: Being Pecked To Death By Ducks.

The first thing that happened to my good idea was the suggestion from a high-ranking creative that perhaps it should not be famous leaders and followers. It should be famous endings, like the demolition of Ebbets Field. So that had to be worked up for him.

Then another biggie creative suggested making the leaders less formidable and more approachable so the common folk could relate to them. And be sure to include the names of each celebrity, so that the reader would never feel ignorant. Another suggestion was to just put one person in each ad. I don’t remember all the suggestions but the net effect was to dilute the idea beyond saving. Yet, I must admit I listened to them all. Partly because they had never been so involved with any of my previous work at the agency. Partially because part of me said, well they are the top hierarchy of the shop; they must be better than their comments make me feel they are.

Then came the next internal presentation. The president of the agency, who had seen only my initial idea and not the various changes, took one look and got very upset. With me! He dismissed the idea and said in effect, that I had no idea how good the original campaign was and that I had destroyed it with what I was showing him now. I looked around for support from those in the meeting who had led me down this path. I am still waiting.

The end result was that the campaign was not shown. (By the way, the agency did not get the account. The campaign recommendation, as I recall, was a photo of a man entering his home after a difficult day and saying to his wife: “Do Me A Drambuie.” No comment.)

Check out his blog, too

For free samples of Heyman’s wisdom and counsel, I also recommend checking out his blog.

But just once thing: Remember that while there are times when you shouldn’t talk so much, there are also times when more copy is actually more effective.

Go git ‘em Larry!

It may interest my friends who ply the direct response advertising trade to know that this ad by the publisher of Hustler Magazine is pulling responses like crazy.

The ad “has yielded about 200 tips so far,” Flynt said.

“He said he’ll let them continue to trickle in over the next two weeks or so before his team begins to follow up on them. ‘We’ll be lucky if we get 2 to 4 percent’ hard leads that could yield a payout,’ he said.”

http://politicalwire.com/archives/2007/06/11/flynt_ad_yielding_tips.html

I’m going to skip all the advertising shop talk about response rates versus conversion rates versus return on investment. All you need to know is that if Larry were selling life insurance by mail right now, he’d be doing great.

If Larry is telling it straight – and I sincerely believe that he is – we’ve got four to eight really juicy scandals coming.

Will they be Republicans or Democrats? Will they be pious Christian Coalitioners or closet atheists? Adult liasonists or pederast slimeballs? In S&M costumes or just plain nekkid?

Will they be getting it for free or paying for it? Straight or gay? And if gay, will they be openly gay members of Congress like Barney Frank? Or could we have a few really fun surprises coming, preferably in the White House cabinet or Dick Cheney’s or Alberto Gonzalez's office? Hey, come to think of it, what about lust with animals?

And will there be pictures? You know what I mean by “pictures” dontcha? Come to think about it, how about tape recordings of heavy breathing? Or videotapes?

Stay tuned.

The tale of the duck and the dumbbell (Can you figure out which is which?)

There is no more “Madison Avenue.” The street exists, but most of the New York ad agencies were driven off that street long ago by high rent and earnings pressure from the adglomerates that own them. This changed the focus of advertising agencies from their product, the advertising, to their bottom line.

That’s part of the reason why it’s rare these days to have an advertising campaign as great as those created in the golden days of advertising, circa 1960s and 1970s. One exception has been AFLAC and its hyperactive duck.

Created by the Kaplan Thaler advertising agency on Eighth Avenue, the AFLAC duck’s series of misadventures were the kind of commercials you’d stay up late to watch over and over again. Little wonder that the AFLAC Duck created 85 percent brand awareness in the last five years, a result that Advertising Age, the leading publication of the advertising business, calls “phenomenal.” http://adage.com/article?article_id=115039

So what happened? Along comes Jeff Herbert. (His picture is above; in case you haven't figured it out he's the one who's not the Duck.) Jeff Herbert’s title is CMO of AFLAC. That’s Chief Marketing Officer to you. But what he really is, is Elmer Fudd out to shoot a Duck instead of a Wabbit.

Y’see, in violation of the late David Ogilvy’s rule that “the consumer is not a moron, she is your wife,” Chief Marketing Officer Jeff Herbert-Fudd has decided that a moron is exactly what you and your wife are.

According to Advertising Age, “’Our industry is a difficult one for the average consumer to understand,’ Mr. Herbert said. ‘We want to move our brand from being known to owned.’ And that means new creative, new products and a rethinking of the media plan.”

In short, CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd plans to kill the Duck. Or at least roast its hiney to an unrecognizable crisp.

Well, if CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd really wants to explain the industry to consumers, which I somehow doubt, there’s no better teacher than the duck. Turn the Duck on and consumers turn on and pay attention. Turn the Duck off and almost guaranteed you’ll have a boring piece of crap advertising.

AFLAC could use the duck in direct mail. Hell, I might read a letter signed by the AFLAC Duck even though I know it’s a sendup. I’d certainly read a brochure in which the Duck walks me through all those new products AFLAC is cooking up to take my money, and explains why I need them and the benefits they'll bring to my life.

Alas! According to what Advertising Age learned, we’re going to have billboards instead, presumably ugly and duck-free billboards. Since billboards rarely contain more than six words, I doubt they'll be able to tell you much about anything.

Consider: AFLAC could create awareness of all those great products CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd is cooking up in his marketing kitchen just by having the Duck explain them on television. But no.

CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd, like another dodo named George Bush, can’t get the first rule of success through his head: "If it ain’t busted, don’t fix it." Ignoring the rule is how we got into Iraq. It's also how CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd is going to shoot down the most successful advertising symbol in decades and help send the company into a tailspin.

Which will probably mean that CMO Jeff Herbert-Fudd will go down in marketing, advertising and AFLAC history as the goose who smashed the golden egg.