• There's two juniors planners where I work, Dave (Dave Mortimer younger sibling of Famous Rob) and Martin. I'm not sure I like the term 'junior' planner, your either planner or not, some have done it for a little longer, that's all..but there you go.

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    Poor Dave get's quite a bit of grief from me. On his paleness, horrific diet, lesbian haircut and interesting taste in cardigans, but to be fair he gives it back in equal measure. He even stole someone's last biscuit and distributed the crumbs all over my chair, a la Gollum.

    Martin escapes the bulk of this so called banter, purely down to the face he doesn't sit opposite me. That said, I think I've succeeded in giving him a complex about his newly beardless demeanor, and how it makes him look taller. Aaaaanywaaaayy……..

    Of course it's nice to have juniors around, they do some of the jobs you hate. Even better, they're great people to talk to about ideas and thorny little problems. If you want a sense check, talk to someone who hasn't learned to be set in their ways yet. They haven't got an axe to grind or developed their own 'schtick' yet.

    I've also found I really like mentoring. I use the word cautiously, it suggests arrogantly knowing better and telling others how it is. That really isn't the case. Having to explain things in more detail than youwould otherwise forces you to question your own practices. Relinquishing control a little bit and letting others get on with gradually more and more forces you to organise yourself better. And best of all, they end up teaching you stuff, how not to get set in your ways, how to use Tumblr. They'ev read stuff you haven't come across, met and done things you haven't.

    There's also a real joy in passing on the things you've learned. I don't mean planning craft and al that gubbins, more things you've learned from having been around a little longer. Sometimes small, commonsensical things, sometimes things a little bigger. There's that responsibility of judging when to tell, when to suggest and when you should let someone learn from their mistakes.

    Best of all, there's the thrill of seeing them flourish, find their stride and 'become' (and the worry that soon you'll be obsolete).

    But, above and beyond that, there's the satisfaction of showing them how to make tea properly and always getting a decent mug poured straight from the pot.

    That said, Dave gets very shirty when it's a coffee round and he gets left out (he hates coffee).

  • As you may have noticed, I've much of life has involved sport and swimming in particular. Much of who I am is because of the pain, joy, disappointment, surprise, setbacks, victories, exhilaration and challenge of being a serious athlete.

    But it never came easily as a young junior. There were others who didn't have to work at it, they had perfectly natural strokes and didn't have to train very hard. It wasn't fair, but I got a lot of silvers, more bronzes and only a few golds at first, mostly by working harder than boys, yet losing to others who seemed to get there by doing nothing.

    But something happened when we became teenagers. We had all sorts of growth funny growth spurts in all sorts of funny places. Boys who had been relative midgets suddenly towered over their peers, those who had been naturally bigger than others found themselves looking at other lads for the first time. We were little hormonal hurricanes.

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    I was lucky enough to be one of those who suddenly turned into a little teenage mountain. Clothes didn't fit, one arm was stronger than the other, I went from fly half to prop at rugby. I got big.

    Almost overnight, my times in the pool got quicker. Demon fast. There is a point in swimming race for juniors when you hit wall, the arms turn to lead, you have no breath left in your lungs and it's a matter if surviving the final few meters. This point got closer and closer to the finish. Suddenly, when it came I was able to look inside, see what was there and find another gear. There's quite like it, thinking there's nothing more to give and discovering more there than you ever dreamed.

    Many of the boys who had it easy before didn't know what to do. They'd never suffered losing before, they'd never had to really work for it. They gave up, they didn't know how to fight, had no idea what pushing themselves really meant. There was no patience for training longer and harder, no will. Those of us who were used to struggle never slacked off, even  when the growth spurts evened out a bit we kept on fighting, we didn't know any other way.

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    You see, sometimes, the worst thing that can happen to you is to be supernaturally gifted. You haven't had the chance to learn from failing, you haven't really found out all that you are. Eventually, someone always comes along more gifted, or more beautiful and you simply don't know how to respond. When it comes down to the wire, you choke never having to really compete before. You find it harder to come back from losing.

    I sometimes think planning and creative is like that too. There are some very lucky people for whom ideas come easily. Sorry for aligning creative with planning, but in the end, both are about having ideas. Ideas have never come easy for me, I have to work that little bit harder. I came later to this and in the back of my mind there's always the fear that I don't deserve this job, should have stayed a suit. It's irrational (I hope), but I don't mind, makes me work that little bit harder.

    I never fear the blank creative brief or the new project, even when nothing's coming, when it all doesn't make sense yet. I wonder how others, for whom ideas come easily, react when the well suddenly runs dry. It always does you know, no matter who you are, sometimes you get a mental block, you can't get anywhere, nothing comes.

    If you're used to having to chip away at the rock to find the vein of gold, you just chip another way, you're used to having to slave to find it. But if you're used to having that gold just magically appear, what do you then?

  • Life isn't always fair, working in an agency is no exception. If you're a suit, it isn't easy to be the one who always does most of the jobs everyone hates. Maybe if you're a planner, it can be frustrating that you don't really make any decisions, you can only influence them.

    For most outside the creative department, it can sometimes see a little unfair how they tend to get away with slightly more creative timekeeping, how hard you have to work to convince them to do what you believe to be right, the perennial debates over the size of the logo. Let's face it, in most places creatives tend to venerated and given much more leeway than any other department.

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    Quite right.

    It doesn't matter how sparkling the strategy is, it doesn't matter (in the end) how strong relationships are, or how efficient and on time everything is, the work is everything. Clients buy creative ideas.

    You can go a long way with great planners, brilliant suits and the like, but in the end, you live and die by how great the work is. If you want normal work, hire normal people and treat them normally. If you want something special…well you can work the rest out.

    But there are two sides to that bargain. To not be treated like everyone else requires doing things everyone else cannot. In other words, the work had better be bloody good. Suits have to earn their right for clients to trust them, planners have to earn their right to be in a room. Creatives need to earn their special treatment with special work.

    So by all means, question the brief, throw it out. Do stuff that's off brief. But be ready to give people goosebumps in the creative review. Be absolutely sure it's great enough to defy logic and budgets, that's it simply HAS to be made. That's why creative are treated specially…the quality of their work decides everyone else's fate. 

    That is a responsibility, not a God given right.

  • A pregnant friend of mine (not the wife) is convinced she has ear cramp. Now I know pregnant women go through lots of wierd and wonderful physical travails, but surely there isn't such a thing as ear cramp?

    Do feel free to prove me wrong if you have any evidence to the contrary……….

  • I've never been complete convert of replaying consumer insight as the basis for communications, sometimes information about a brand, or leading behaviour rather than following, can be far more powerful.

    However, you can't escape understanding what the barriers are to people doing what you want. The more you understand what's going on in their real lives, the better. Brands that resolve some sort of conflict tend to do well, more-so if that conflict is something in life rather than a fake brand world.

    Like 'Try Something New Today' which helping solve the conflict between wanting to be a great cook and the complexity and expense of buying and preparing food. Guiness has turned a downside of their drink – waiting –  into a ritual that signifies quality.

    I'd like to see a beauty brand resolve the dilemma that women can manipulate their looks to manipulate men, creating opportunities that wouldn't be their otherwise…..but while this may make them feel like rebels, resisting the narrow role others would place them in, in the end, they're responding to and using stereotypes created for them by men.

    I digress.

    You won't get deep understanding of stuff like this in focus groups. You'll only get it by lots of observation and coming at things from a different angle. Finding real life contradictions, dilemmas and behaviours.

    Or you can cheat.

    English

    If you work in the UK and you want some shortcuts to lots of really good, deep insights about how we behave in the UK (for example, when it comes to clothes, we like fixed uniforms we can rebel against only slightly) have a read of 'Watching the English' by Kate Fox. She's a professional anthropologist and has created a beatifully written reference to every aspect of behaviour.

    Indeed, if you're not from here and want to know how ridiculous we are, you should read this too.

  • I grew up doing a lot of retail stuff. Three supermarkets, one purveyor of furniture, beds, white goods…I've done a bit.

    Retail_customer_experience

    Not all of it was pretty, but itwas never dull. Having a certain marketing controller call you a twat on the phone at 7pm for getting the wrong price in a script, only to have him send a crate of wine the next day when he realised he was reading the wrong one, cannot be termed as boring.

    You learned fast, you had to. You learned by doing..at one point me and another account manager we're opening 7 new supermarket stores, running the kind of TV shoot that needs four helicopters and making sure around 200 press ads went out every single week without a typo or wrong price. The account director was off on paternity leave at the time.

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    Despite the 'down and dirty' reputation of retail (come on, admit it, you think retail's easy. It's all reactionary, no thinking, just do what you're ordered week in, week out), I think a background in it makes a planner, or anyone else in agency land for that matter, better placed for the future than most.

    In retail, you're judged on nothing but results. Not just long term brand measures, quarterly tracking dips and such, you're judged week in, week out on sales and footfall, at the granular level of product lines, regions, even singular product.

    There is no where to hide when the results don't come it, you have to be ready for everything. Someone very wise said that the future is about 'always being in beta', and he's damned right. More and more, brands will be about experience, interaction and 'doing'.

    But planning for retail has always been like. The US Army has a saying that no plan survives contact with the enemy, well very few retail plans survive the bank holiday footfall figures.

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    In short, you have to make people DO stuff, not just think or feel.

    Bad retailers just react, constantly lurching this way and that, with no long term vision or plan. Woolworths fell apart in my view because they forgot what they existed for. But good retailers have a good, flexible vision, a role in life, they know what they want to do for their customers beyond sell them enough to hit their targets.

    But they realise that they will be buffeted by more variables than other business model. Economic shocks hit them first of course, minute changes in buying culture, price sensitivity hit them first. But so does the weather too. They're constantly engaged with a version of 'game theory' with their competitors.

    They have to think far beyond simply weaving emotional or cultural meaning into a product. In a world where brands are like a basketball – all the bumps on a brand that help their customers grip them, retailers are exposed more that others. Own label, POP, checkouts, staff culture, car parks, e-commerce, customer services, delivery, vans…..all of it matters, there's far more to get right.

    Right now, agencies, their planners and their brands are getting used to having much more flexible ideas that touch different audiences in different ways. They're getting used to terrifying viral nature of the web and reacting quicker, trying lots of little things more often and learning by doing. They're used to having a great vision and always experimenting and learning, moving, chopping and changing within that vision all the time.

    That's what planning for retail has always been about. It's about Sainsbury's 'Try something new today' working for a home made gourmet meal and being able to say, "Feed your family for a fiver". It's about Ikea being able to make us "Chuck out our chintz" and also make "Home the most important place in the world" when things are scary.

    So that's why someone who's sweated blood (you always do) over retail is best placed for a world where you need both a big vision and the skills to react, develop, change and act very, very quickly.That's what they were already doing.

  • A long time ago, back when the internet was still something only a few scientists and computer geeks used, when John Major was Prime Minister, Clinton hadn't soiled that dress and millions of young (and not so young boys) avidly sat down on an early Saturday evening to enjoy a Terri Hatcher in Superman and lots of slow motion lifeguards in Baywatch, I was a malingering politics student.

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    Time was pretty much divided up between drinking, swimming, eating and studying; in exactly that order. There was daily training sessions in the swimming pool, land training with the rowers (I always won the bleep test) and a ridiculous amount of time spent in the gymn.

    Now I've never been the most self-confident of people, I certainly wasn't then. You know that song, 'Ask' by the Smiths? That was me, and largely still is. I got to meet girls through sport (most of my teen girlfriends were swimmers, they had bigger shoulders than me) an thanks to a training ground of growing up with two older sisters, having a few girls as best  friends and having the introductions done for me…

    So when I saw this girl in our gymn for the first time, it was torture. She was perfect…way out of my league, but our eyes kept meeting. Every time she looked up, she caught me looking, every now and again, the Spidey Sense would kick in, I'd feel like I was being watched and catch her stealing a glance. Could I go up and talk to her? Could I hell.

    Weeks went by with the almost daily torture. Then it got worse. One day I walked through reception to find her on the desk where you swiped your gymn pass, she'd got a bloody job to pay for beer ro whatever. Now, at least twice a week, there was a meek hello from me, a similar muted greeting from this girl I was sure liked me, but could never talk to. I'd walk past the desk, face burning, suddenly feeling clumsy, tongue tied and useless.

    Then the day came, in a walked. She smiled at first, then the welcoming expression faded to indecision, before lighting up again. She's thought of something to say, to break the ice, to take pity on both me and her. 'Nice top' she commented. Observing the comely nature of my hoodie. 

    I cannot describe the rush of relief, my response would be an easy one, before asking her if she played a sport or just wanted to keep fit, ask her what course she did, ready to listen intently to her every word. Mike and Darren were with me, I could sense their relief, bored as they were with the whole saga, sick to death of endless nights out where Dutch Courage could have provided the impetus for finally seizing the day.

    So, my first words to her, beyond "Hello", or "Goodbye" came out.

    "Thanks, it's from Gap".

    Her eyes lowered, she looked at once embarrassed and confused, not knowing what to say. Mike and Darren looked on with a potent cocktail of horror, derision and sympathy. I looked down and realised why. This is what the sweatshirt looked like:

    Gap 

    She quietly responded, "I know". Face crimson, head hung in shame, I legged it into the gymn, followed by my bastard comrades quietly giggling.

    We never attempted contact again, left to wonder what might have been. And that my friends, is what it's like to be The Northern Planner.

    And why I hate Gap.

    1. Who's worse, the people who makeHello/Closer/National Enquirer/Heat magazines or the fact people buy them?
    2. Am I good enough for xxxx(insert appropriately)
    3. What would my childhood have been like if there was no Star Wars?
    4. If I could read everyones thoughts, how much would it change what I think of them? What would they think if I could read mine.
    5. What's it like to be a woman?
    6. If there was a pill to cure baldness, would I use it?
    7. Will I be as good a father to my child as mine is to me?
    8. Will I ever be able to make a curry that tastes like a take-away
    9. How can an electron be in more than one place at a time? How can anyone possibly begin to understand this?
    10. What am I doing?
  • Stork-baby 

    There really is nothing I can add to this. Nothing can describe what it feels like so I won't even try. Funny how words are sometimes not nearly enough.