GETTING OUT
There aren’t many old creatives.
Before they get old, most creatives seem to leave. But the question of where they go and what they do has never been satisfactorily answered.
However, the three most common exits seem to be Up & Out, Down & Out, and Deciding To Do Something Else.
UP AND OUT
Successful creatives who go on to become creative directors or start their own agencies eventually get “squeezed out of the top” of the business.
Creatives who start their own agency normally do so for the thrill and the autonomy. But after about five years of bloody hard work, they will (assuming things have gone well) get offers to sell. They may say no—the challenge of growing the agency to the next level may be compelling. But if their agency continues to do well, eventually the amount of money offered becomes too good to turn down.
After the sale (normally to a big agency network that is looking for an infusion of creativity) there is often an “earn-out period,” during which the founders must remain in place to steer the agency through the next few years, and in return will receive an additional tranche of money if certain business targets are met.
After the earn-out, the founding creative director normally doesn’t want to work full-time any more, and will usually step back from the day-to-day running of the company, though he may take up a consultative role, while pursuing his interests in art, fine wine, or similar. (There are some notable exceptions—Sir John Hegarty, who co-founded BBH, is still the first creative to arrive in the department every morning, every day of the week.)
Big agency ECDs often seem to end up in a global role that involves being more of a figurehead than a working creative director, and eventually get fired in return for a large pay-off, or—just possibly—they retire. Whichever is the case, by now he is normally happy with what he has done, and doesn’t need to do it any more, either financially or emotionally.
But for many creatives, unfortunately, the time of leaving is not so peaceful.
DOWN AND OUT
Creative departments are designed in a pyramid structure. There is one ECD at the top, several creative directors underneath him and several teams under each of them.
Simple math dictates that, every year, some creatives get fired.
No figures are available, but I’d estimate that only one in ten creatives makes it to creative director, and one in 50 to ECD.
If you don’t make it up to the next level of the pyramid, it is possible to stay for quite a while on the level that you are on. But each year, a new generation of students graduate from advertising college, a new generation of juniors are becoming middleweights, and a new generation of middleweights are becoming senior creatives.
So eventually, you will be overtaken by someone younger and cheaper. Apologies if that sounds a bit bleak. But it’s no different to the structure of any other profession, such as journalism, accountancy, investment banking, or the law. A newspaper, for example, has only one editor, a few section heads, and many reporters.
As I’ve mentioned before, many creatives who get fired can simply get a job in a slightly less good agency. And this can go on for a while. But eventually, they can’t get another job, and they are forced to do something else.
Or, creatives make an active choice to do something else, either because they’ve got pissed off with advertising, or they’ve realized there’s something else they want to do more.
Jobs that creatives do after advertising include writing books, lecturing on advertising, e-commerce projects, raising pigs, running artsy magazines, acupuncture, and poetry-writing. We’re a varied bunch, so it’s to be expected that our alternative career paths are varied too.
There are many ex-creatives who have found fame as novelists. These include Joseph Heller (author of Catch-22), Salman Rushdie (ex-Ogilvy London, wrote the Booker Prize-winning Midnight’s Children), Peter Carey (Australian ex-copywriter, twice winner of the Booker Prize), and Don DeLillo (author of Falling Man), who worked for five years at Ogilvy NY.
In the world of film, our alumni include Alan Parker (ex-copywriter at CDP, subsequently directed movies including Bugsy Malone and Mississippi Burning), Tony Kaye (another ex-CDP creative, since has directed American History X), Andrew Niccol (formerly creative director at BBDO London, went on to write the screenplay for The Truman Show, and wrote and directed Gattaca), and John Hughes (was a copywriter in Chicago, before directing The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off).
But probably the most common “next career” for creatives is commercials directing. Mark Denton, co-founder of celebrated London hotshop Simons Palmer Denton Clemmow & Johnson, is now a successful ad director.
He transitioned gradually into the role. “When there wasn’t a proper budget for a job, Chris [Palmer] and I ended up directing things ourselves.”
Does he miss being a creative?
“Sometimes. I miss the cut-and-thrust and the camaraderie. Except…I do notice that things have changed. Like showing the client three recommendations for an ad. And all the planning. I don’t know if I’d survive now.”
“It’s a short career,” he adds. “Unless you learn how to play the game.”
Some creatives go on to set up a non-advertising-related business. This is especially true in Asia, with its highly entrepreneurial culture, where it’s quite common to have a second string to your bow. There are creative directors with restaurants, art directors with a designer bag sideline, and copywriters who are also part-time journalists. An ECD from Leo Burnett in Bangkok went on to set up a successful chain of clothing stores.
David Hieatt was a highly regarded copywriter at Abbott Mead Vickers BBDO in London, before setting up the organic clothing company Howies.
He believes there is rarely a “right time” to leave advertising if you have some other dream or passion you want to follow.
“The stars don’t just suddenly all line up in a row,” says David. “The leap of faith has to be taken without any guarantees. In the taking-off of a plane, there is a point on the runway called V1. This is the point of no return. Once the plane has passed this point on the runway, it has to take off. It is a physical line. But we are not so lucky to have a line like that. Ours is an imaginary line that just exists in our heads. The point where not following our dream becomes more painful than following someone else’s.”
David doesn’t miss advertising. But he does miss “playing football on Friday with my mates.”
Mississippi Burning (1988), directed by former copywriter Alan Parker.
While you’re earning a good living and having fun, advertising is a wonderful industry to be in, and I’d recommend staying as long as you can.
But when you lose your mojo or it’s no longer fun or there’s something else you want to do more… there’s a whole world out there.
No one stays in advertising for ever.
But almost no one regrets having done it.
