Dave Trott’s Blog

I was in a pub with Barney Edwards one night.

Barney Edwards was one of the best advertising photographers ever.

Anyway, Barney was from Yorkshire.

Cold refreshments had been taken, and the conversation took a turn.

Barney said, “What does it mean to you, to be a real man?”

Apparently this is a very important subject for Yorkshiremen.

He said, “For me, being a real man means having the guts to go up to the biggest, hardest man in the pub, and say to him, “Look I know you hate me, and I hate you. And I know you can beat the daylights out of me. But I don’t give a stuff, you can do what you like.’

Barney said, “That’s what being a real man is to me.”

Now I’m from east London, and I said, “That’s funny Barney, where I come from we call that a prat.

Where I come from a real man is clearly seen by several witnesses to be having a drink at the bar, while some other guy is running the big bloke down in a car outside.”

Now of course, I’m not advocating killing people as a way of life.

But it illustrates a point.

In that drunken exchange you see two different instincts.

If you grow up in the poor section of a big city, your wits are always more important than your muscles.

There will always be someone who is bigger and harder than you.

Someone who can beat you in a fight.

So how do you beat someone like that?

You learn to out think them.

There are no physical limitations to thinking.

So you can make yourself better and better at out thinking other people.

That’s why people in poor sections of big cities grow up to be wise guys.

I found it when I went to New York.

People came to my art school from all over America.

But the guys I made friends with quickest were from Brooklyn.

They liked to laugh a lot, they liked to talk a lot, and they liked to use their wits to gain advantage.

In fact pretty much everyone I hung out with was like that.

So I thought everybody, everywhere was like that.

It took me a long while to realize that what I took for common sense wasn’t actually that common.

Let me give you an example.

Recently I met a guy from Brooklyn called Steve.

He’s a big Jewish bloke, and he works in fuel import/export.

I asked him how it was going.

He said, “Really interesting, I had the CIA come to see me.”

I asked him what happened.

He said, “I go to the middle east all the time on business.

I’ve always got tankers loading or unloading fuel over there.

These WASPY guys from the CIA asked me if I’d gather intelligence for them while I was there.

I told them I wouldn’t go out looking for it.

But if I saw any stuff I thought they could use, I’d tell them.

And the CIA guys said, “What sort of stuff?”

So I said, ”Well my tankers are always refilling the military fuel dumps when they’re half full.

If they call us in to refill them when they’re completely empty, I could tip you off. Because you’d know the fact that all the fuel dumps are empty could mean they’ve filled all their military vehicles and might be planning an invasion.”

Then the guys from the CIA said,”That’s really clever thinking.

By the way, where are these fuel dumps you’re talking about?”

And that’s when I realized: the CIA’s never going to be any good until we get some guys from Brooklyn running it.”

I know exactly what Steve means.

And I think it’s true of advertising.

Growing up using your brains to out think other people is not something you can learn from studying case histories.

You won’t find it taught on advertising courses.

You won’t find a chapter on it in the marketing textbooks.

Because you can’t teach it.

It’s not about conventional wisdom.

It’s not about doing what you’re supposed to do.

It’s about finding what you’re not supposed to do, and getting away with it.

It’ about creating an unfair advantage.

Because all advantage is unfair.

It’s called creativity, and it’s risky.

If it goes wrong, you’re in big trouble.

But, if you try to play safe by asking for permission, you won’t get it.

That’s why most good ideas end up as just talk, over the pub.

European language and Chinese language developed in a totally different way.

In the west, our start point was a spoken language.

We started with different sorts of sounds for different things.

Then these sounds became a spoken language: words.

And we made up visual symbols for the sounds.

The alphabet is 26 sound-symbols.

So we could write them down and you’d know what each word sounded like.

Whatever language we spoke, French, German, English, we could read each other’s sounds out loud.

Even though we didn’t have a clue what the words meant.

It’s exactly the opposite in Chinese.

Their written language is based not on sounds, but on pictures.

So the start point for the word ‘house’ is a picture of a house.

The start point for the word ‘bird’ is a picture of a bird.

Not the sound for ‘house’ or ‘bird’.

This means that although the Chinese have many spoken languages (Cantonese, Hakka, Hokkein, Teochew) they only have one written language.

So they can write to each other even when they can’t talk to each other.

Because their written language is based on pictures not sounds.

Very interesting.

So what does it all have to do with us?

Semiotics.

The study of language.

Language is communication, and that’s our job.

And communication isn’t just words.

Apparently, only 25% of what we communicate is verbal.

And yet we act as if words are all there is.

Look at the job title: copywriter.

And yet, on average, only 5% of people who turn the page read the headline.

And 5% of people who read the headline read the copy.

So the job title ‘communicator’ would make more sense than ‘copywriter’.

By understanding the different ways in which people communicate we’re studying basic semiotics.

This means we’re not just stuck with words anymore.

There are more effective ways to get things into people’s heads.

Some time ago I saw a press campaign that opened my eyes.

Because it changed the rules.

It was done in the UK, but it communicated the Chinese way.

Using pictures as language, not words.

It was for Land Rover.

It was done, I think, by Malcolm Gaskin and Neil Patterson.

And it had a picture of the Land Rover, diagonally across the page, on a 45 degrees hill.

Plus two headlines, one across the bottom of the ad, and one running down the side.

The headline across the bottom said, “Is this a Land Rover going uphill forwards?”

(Then you turned the ad on its side)

The other headline said, “Or a Land Rover going uphill backwards?”

Very nice ad, but that wasn’t the brilliant part.

The absolutely brilliant part for me was the body copy.

There wasn’t any.

No words, just symbols, all around the outside borders.

All the information had been done as little icons.

So I got each point, fast and simple: 4 Wheel-Drive, 10 cwt Load, Differential-Lock, Winch, etc.

Each point was as easy to read as a road sign.

And road signs are the purest form of visual communication.

Because they have to be instantly understood by everyone, whatever language they speak.

And, of course, road signs are perfect for talking to drivers.

The people who buy Land Rovers.

I would have given that campaign the Gold award for body copy.

Simply because it changed the rules.

It wasn’t locked into the usual big black impenetrable block of words.

It was communication in a totally fresh way.

And that’s what made it really creative.

If people don’t read copy, let’s do something different.

Don’t just keep doing what doesn’t work.

Sure we have to get the information across, but that doesn’t have to mean words.

Creativity isn’t just about looking for new things.

It’s looking for new ways of using things.

And some of those things, like the Chinese language, may be thousands of years old.

I was one of two deputy creative directors at BMP.

One day the managing director came to see me.

He said, “We’ve got a real problem with (the other deputy CD).

He never stops complaining about you to the entire board, and anyone else that will listen.”

I said, “What sort of things does he say?”

The MD said, “He says you can’t do your job.

That you’re not as good as he is.

That nobody likes you, they’d all prefer to be working for him.

That you shouldn’t be a deputy CD, he should be the only one.”

I knew the MD was right.

I had found advertising annuals the other deputy CD had left on John Webster’s desk, with Post-it notes reading, “This is where Trott stole his latest TV idea from.”

To be fair it was getting to be a bit of a drag.

So I thought about the problem for a bit.

Then I said to the MD, “Why don’t you give him a raise?”

The MD said, “Why would we do that, he’s making himself a pain in the arse?”

I said, “Yes, but John’s not going to fire him for that is he?

And anyway, he’s a good writer.

We just want to make the problem go away.

And the problem is that this guy sees me as direct competition.

Give him a raise so he’s earning more than me.

Then he won’t feel threatened by me.

That’ll make the problem go away and I can get on with my work without the constant aggravation.”

The MD said, “Wouldn’t you mind if we gave him a raise and not you?”

I said, “Not really. What I earn compared to him is irrelevant to me.

If he earns more than me, it doesn’t make my salary worth any less.

And if he earns less than me it doesn’t make my salary worth any more.

I still get what I get.

It just gets him off my back.”

And that’s how it worked out.

As soon as the guy knew he was earning more than me he relaxed.

He was even quite patronizing towards me, as if he felt sorry for me.

Because he thought he’d won, and I’d lost.

But I didn’t mind.

Because he never knew it was my idea.

And it solved the problem.

See he was a guy who was interested in rising inside BMP, and the only way he knew how to do that was by internal politics.

I was interested in building a career in advertising.

And I thought the only way to do that was through the work.

So internal politics didn’t interest me.

I just wanted to do as much good work as I could get my hands on, as fast as I could.

Now, if I had let this guy get me angry, I might have started to play him at his own game.

I would have started bad mouthing him around the agency.

I would have tried to prove to John Webster that he was crap.

I would have had to play internal politics instead of concentrating on the work.

But the problem with playing his game is just that.

It’s his game.

It’s not mine.

And if it’s his game, he must be better at it.

And why would I play a game I’m sure to lose at?

So I didn’t let him write my agenda.

I kept my eye on where I wanted to go, and let him carry on going where he wanted to go.

This is a lesson we can learn from sports.

That’s why boxers, footballers, even cricketers, insult each other during the match.

If your opponent can distract you, they can win.

If they can make you lose your temper, you stop thinking clearly.

You leave your rational mind, and go into your emotional mind.

And then you’re not so good.

And then they win.

As Buddha said, “Act, don’t react.”

A really good young team had just started at the agency: Mary Wear and Damon Collins.
The agency was working on Marlboro and we needed a new campaign.
We got all the teams together and briefed them.
Afterwards Damon and Mary came to see me.
They said they didn’t want to work on cigarettes,
I said, “You’ve put me in an awkward position.
Let me explain my problem.
Is it fair to make everyone else work on cigarettes while you don’t?
What’s the knock-on if everyone sees you choosing what you do and don’t want to work on?
Should we let everyone in the agency choose what they want to work on?
And what if everyone chooses not to work on cigarettes?
Marlboro makes up around 10% of the agency’s income.
Should we fire the client and ask everyone to take a 10% salary cut?
Do you feel strongly enough about it that you’re prepared to take a 10% salary cut?
Or is fair that other people should work on cigarettes to subsidise your salary?
Should you only work at agencies that handle clients you approve of?
Or are you willing to take money from the income of products you disapprove of, but just not work on them?
And what good does this passive disapproval do anyway?
If you feel strongly why aren’t you working on anti-smoking advertising outside the agency, in your free time?
You could offer your services for nothing.
That would do more good than just refusing to work on it.”
Damon and Mary said they didn’t feel strongly enough to do any of those things.
They wanted to work at our agency, they just felt bad about working on cigarettes.
They were a good team and I didn’t want to lose them.
I said, “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but there’s a simple solution.”
They said, “We’re listening.”
I said, “How does a husband avoid doing the washing up?”
Damon said, “Break a plate, so his wife never asks him again.”
I said, “Right, so what would that look like in this situation?”
Damon said, “Do such a bad job that you don’t pick any of our ads?”
I said, “Right, and if you do a really bad job I’ll probably think you can’t do cigarette advertising, and never ask you again.”
Damon got it straight away, but Mary still wasn’t happy.
She didn’t like the idea of doing bad ads on purpose.
She thought she shouldn’t have to.
I said, “I know it’s not perfect, but in a compromise everyone gives a little.
This way, you get most of what you want: you don’t have to work on cigarettes.
And I get most of what I want: the rest of the department sees you did some work and had it turned down.
So they’re still motivated because you didn’t get preferential treatment.”
And that’s what happened.
Everyone got most of what they wanted.
See, I think pragmatism gets a bad rap.
People take pragmatism to mean ‘the course of least resistance’.
I think it means finding a way around the problem rather than confronting it head on.
So for me pragmatism is creative.
I won’t make a moral judgement on what you should or shouldn’t want.
That’s your business.
But I will make a judgement about how you go about getting it.
That’s my business.

If I set the game up right, in order for me to win, no one else has to lose.

Whenever you’re talking about creativity, you’re never just talking about what you’re talking about.

Creativity is like water, it flows everywhere.

Here’s an example.

When I talk to students about what they should do to get a job, people think I’m just talking to students.

But actually, the same principles apply to any situation that will benefit from creativity.

See, most students trying to get a job are terrified of doing the wrong thing.

So they sit around and think about it.

Someone suggests something different, and straight away they think of how that might piss off creative directors, so they’d better not do it.

Imagine that for a creative person.

Their major goal is to not piss anyone off.

Well how you do that is by not doing anything.

And that’s what they do.

Nothing.

So that’s what happens.

Nothing.

Simple equation: no risk, no reward.

Another example.

Winston Churchill decided to take up painting.

So he bought the paints, the easel, the brushes, the stool, everything.

And when he’d bought it all he sat in the garden, looked at the view, and tried to paint.

But he couldn’t quite decide where to put the first stroke.

Should he put the structure in first, or should he put the biggest object in?

Should he put the dynamic perspective lines in, or decide the parameters of the picture first?

3 hours later he still hadn’t put a single stroke on the canvas.

His wife brought him a cup of tea and saw him looking at it.

So she just picked up the brush and put a big black stroke down the middle of the white canvas.

Churchill said, “What have you done, you’ve ruined it?”

She said, “Well now you’ll just have to fix it, won’t you.”

And he started painting.

And eventually he became a really good painter.

But like most of us, he was looking for a risk-free way to start.

Peter Wood, the guy who founded and built Direct Line, and then founded and built eSure once told me his motto.

He said, “Do it, then fix it as you go.”

In other words, don’t just sit around waiting until everything is perfect, because it never will be.

Just jump straight in and get started.

And as you notice things that aren’t right you can change them.

But if you wait, you’ll think of too many reasons not to do anything.

The film director Alan Parker said, “On a film set you’ll always have to choose between two ways of shooting something.

The worst thing you can do is sit around thinking about it.

Because you’re wasting time and money, while the actors and crew sit around doing nothing.

And when you’ve done all the thinking you’re no nearer to solving it.

So the best thing is just pick one route and go for it.

Then you can change it as you see whether or not it’s working.”

So doing something is nearly always better than doing nothing.

The American General, George C. Patton said, “A good plan today, is better than a great plan tomorrow.”

Because, by waiting until everything’s perfect, we lose the opportunity.

And we lose the two most important things we’ve got: time and energy.

That’s why I always tell the account men and planners, “I’d rather have a wrong brief early, than the right brief late.”

That way, we can at least be working on it.

So we’re not wasting time.

The chances are the eventual brief won’t be a million miles away from what we first thought, anyway.

And meanwhile, the creative dept can be having ideas, and researching executions, that might also work for the different brief.

When students ask me what they should do, I tell them the answer is always the same.

“Everything” and “Now.”

And the answer for students is the same as the answer for all of us.