My guy and I have a fun exchange from time to time. He says I’m a professional liar, and I tell him no! How dare he! There’s a law against lying. Ha ha.
Not gonna lie, though, it does hurt my feeling a little bit. Because not lying — and not even getting close to lying — is a massive priority in the way I work. And other priorities, too. Let’s talk about them.
1. Don’t be evil.
Maybe I stole it from Google — they certainly aren’t using it anymore, which is not at all disconcerting. Regardless, it’s a good, if vague, philosophy. An essential part of our job as creatives entails reaching out to our audience and using their wants and needs and fears and worries as an opportunity to make a connection. We’re hitting them in a very vulnerable place they haven’t given us permission to hit, and we have to respect that.
So no misleading. No manipulating. No fearmongering. No acting in bad faith. And that applies to working as part of a team, too — no lying, stealing credit (I know, “I in team,” whatever — I wrote a thing), crab-in-a-bucketing, none of the things we know is wrong to do but find an excuse to do. But don’t. If we can’t do our job without being evil, we’re bad at our job.
2. Don’t even get close to lying.
This one obviously falls under not being evil, but it’s pertinent enough to my role as a copywriter that I like to emphasize it. The truth isn’t a picket fence — it’s an electric fence, and if you get close enough to touch it, even if you don’t climb over it, you’re wrong. Taking advantage of that very vulnerable place I mentioned, feeding our audience lies about their needs and fears and worries just to make a buck, is unethical and wrong, whether you’re telling a straight-up porky pie or minutely tweaking language for the sake of deniability.
And y’all, pushing back against clients can be one of the scariest things for a freelancer. I know it — I once had to push back on a healthcare client who wanted to back up a claim with data that only worked if you conflated two unrelated studies and squinted. And pushing back was terrifying, but the audience was worried about their medical condition and I wasn’t going to take advantage of them by telling them untrue things — or even things that are kind of true if you squint hard — about a potential treatment.
Luckily, the client was amenable to leaving those questionable things out, and we still had enough viable studies and claims to finish the work (to glowing feedback). And I tell that story not to flex about how super ethical I am but to let you know politely pushing back will not get you auto-fired. And if you do get fired for it, you’re better off — not because you’re rich enough to stand on principle, but because eventually there will be a lawsuit about misleading somethingorother and you don’t want to be anywhere near it.
3. Anybody can be creative.
Can everyone be a good copywriter or art director or graphic designer or video editor or whatever? No, those are things that take training and talent, and while I’m passionate about the democratization of training in those areas, raw talent does need honing.
But anybody can be creative. Any account manager, executive, executive assistant, ops coordinator, or guy filling up the vending machines is capable of coming up with fun, innovative, effective ideas that can contribute to a more well-rounded, nuanced concept. And even if I sometimes pretend not to, I love it when someone else thinks of something so creative I wish I’d thought about it, and I always make it clear their input is great and they are a valued, if adjunct, member of the team.
Every single person has their own background, thought process, and perspective that can potentially make our work richer. So no creative gatekeeping. We work in a fun, creative field, and everyone gets to play.
4. Of course there are stupid ideas. There’s just nothing wrong with that.
The saying, “There are no stupid ideas,” is silly. Of course there are stupid ideas. Let’s sell Jaguars with personalized hummus — look me in the eye and tell me that’s not stupid. There’s just nothing wrong with stupid ideas. Stupid ideas are important. When you’re trying to concept big and do something special, if you start with what’s smart and safe, what’s always worked in the past, and push outward from that, you’re going to struggle mightily.
Sometimes, even often — not always, y’all, just sometimes-even-often — starting with stupid ideas and then reining them back a little leads to something unexpected and unique and attention-getting, in a way that trying to build on what’s always worked just wouldn’t. Just be judicious in the time spent nurturing stupid ideas. There is no banger hidden within personalized Jaguar hummus.
Another thing about stupid ideas
Stupid ideas are great for helping people who are uncertain about their creativity, and uncomfortable about being creative in front of other people, learn to start trusting their own ideas. When I run brainstorming sessions, I start with a few minutes of coming up with stupidest ideas possible. For confident creatives, it can help skim some of the stupid ideas off the top of the brain. The less-confident ones often find it easier to share ideas they worry are stupid in an environment where all the ideas are stupid. And often, those stupid ideas can be a jumping-off point for unexpected and unique ones. And it reinforces to those more timid creatives that their voices are valued.
5. I’m not always right.
… Yeah.
This one is probably the toughest one to live by, because slapping a leash on that ego is a job of work and nobody likes to be wrong. But (deep breath, Gillett, you can do this) on very rare occasion, I am, and it’s important to recognize that.
I’m confident I’m usually right — I’ve been doing this for over 20 years, so I’ve got a lot of experience under my belt, and I try not to open my mouth if I’m not confident I’m right. But 20 years’ experience isn’t a guarantee of rightness. I’ve heard enough, “Uh, yeah, I think I know what I’m doing, thanks,” from seasoned creatives to never want to be like that.
Letting your ego take over like that also interfere with #3 and #4 up there. There’s no room for new ideas if you’re always sure yours is the best one. There’s no learning new things if you are convinced they’re auto-wrong. I love to share the benefit of my experience and, y’know, being real good at my job, but I also learning new things and engaging with new ideas. As a sign I literally had on the wall in my office reminds me, my ego is not my amigo.
Rules lawyer
I think I’ve been pretty clear in the past that I’m a huge not-fan of arbitrary rules. I love love rules that make sense, and I bristle at rules you can’t defend with logic.
These rules mean something to me. They don’t just make me a better creative professional — they make me a better person. And I’m absolutely, totally, indelibly certain about that.