I Have Lousy Work Habits

Maybe it's life in the digital culture that’s ruining my rigorous work habits. I’m all over the place. The age of distraction is getting to me.

This is the year I face the facts. I must change my work habits or join a convent where nothing will matter so much as my morning prayers.

Okay, so I’ll change the work habits. After all, I suspect celibacy would kill me.

I came across this letter written by the original ad man, David Ogilvy, describing his work habits as a copy writer.

I found it fascinating. And it served as yet another distraction from addressing a real deadline. Ugh…I promise to do better in future. For now, I’m sharing Ogilvy’s take on things.

April 19, 1955

Dear Mr. Calt:

On March 22nd you wrote to me asking for some notes on my work habits as a copywriter. They are appalling, as you are about to see:

1. I have never written an advertisement in the office. Too many interruptions. I do all my writing at home.

2. I spend a long time studying the precedents. I look at every advertisement which has appeared for competing products during the past 20 years.

3. I am helpless without research material—and the more "motivational" the better.

4. I write out a definition of the problem and a statement of the purpose which I wish the campaign to achieve. Then I go no further until the statement and its principles have been accepted by the client.

5. Before actually writing the copy, I write down every concievable fact and selling idea. Then I get them organized and relate them to research and the copy platform.

6. Then I write the headline. As a matter of fact I try to write 20 alternative headlines for every advertisement. And I never select the final headline without asking the opinion of other people in the agency. In some cases I seek the help of the research department and get them to do a split-run on a battery of headlines.

7. At this point I can no longer postpone the actual copy. So I go home and sit down at my desk. I find myself entirely without ideas. I get bad-tempered. If my wife comes into the room I growl at her. (This has gotten worse since I gave up smoking.)

8. I am terrified of producing a lousy advertisement. This causes me to throw away the first 20 attempts.

9. If all else fails, I drink half a bottle of rum and play a Handel oratorio on the gramophone. This generally produces an uncontrollable gush of copy.

10. The next morning I get up early and edit the gush.

11. Then I take the train to New York and my secretary types a draft. (I cannot type, which is very inconvenient.)

12. I am a lousy copywriter, but I am a good editor. So I go to work editing my own draft. After four or five editings, it looks good enough to show to the client. If the client changes the copy, I get angry—because I took a lot of trouble writing it, and what I wrote I wrote on purpose.

Altogether it is a slow and laborious business. I understand that some copywriters have much greater facility.

Yours sincerely,

D.O.

Where Vision Meets Action

I love this! Watch a group of passionate artists revitalize a gritty Oakland block in 6 weeks.

Check out PopUpHood

POPUPHOOD from Eva Kolenko on Vimeo.

Checking Out Self-Reliance Technologies

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Ever wonder why people wait in line at the grocery store check-out or the public library when self-check-out is available? I’d like to argue that in a digital culture, we get emotional support from live human transactions. The neuroscience proves that the more social our technologies become, the more human contact we‘ll crave: hi-tech/hi-touch. So it’s not about efficiency.

Transacting at check-out is all about having a plush human exchange. This is where brand personality shines. For example, at my library there are a couple of librarians who lavish patrons with eye contact and smiles. People will cue up to have their books checked out by these librarians, while self-check-out is idle nearby.

In grocery stores, self-check-out is a bust. The process is clunky and riddled with errors that cause delays. Invariably the customer is forced to seek help anyway as the robot voice scolds them about unscanned items. It’s a downright punitive customer experience.

The trouble with some self-reliance technologies is that they are replacing something that people value more and more - positive human connections. More importantly, technologies that attempt to fix the problem of lousy customer service using the fig leaf of hip technology is an infuriating idea. When I saw this video about a mobile app for shoppers, I couldn’t help but wonder: what problem is this solving? Efficiency? Self-reliance? User freedom?

Or is it a techno-fix for bad customer service at check-out? The latter doesn’t need an app. It needs leadership.

See for yourself. Would you adopt this mobile app for your shopping trip?

A New Story

Photo by pic fix

It's sunrise in New York. I am writing this from my hotel room, hours before the curtain goes up on TEDx Broadway.

Last night, I snagged last minute tickets to The Book of Mormon. Terrific show! It lived up to every Tony it won.

I couldn't help feeling uplifted by its deeper themes about America: even when the chips are down, even when we are lost and have no idea what to do next, we are always able to tell ourselves a new story. It keeps us hopeful. And hope is always magnetic.

I am thrilled to be a part of TEDx Broadway. And I thank Chris Anderson, curator of the TED Conference, for being hopeful enough about the future of ideas to dedicate a business to it.

And look where that has taken him. And taken all of us.

Wish me luck...oops, I mean "break a leg."