Please, please stop saying "Anybody can be a creative."

There is a clandestine effort – conscious or deliberate, I cannot say – to diminish the value of creative. The thinking that fuels this conspiracy is that being creative is more a hobby than a career path. As a writer, I'm often asked to "come up with something fun" for a neighborhood event, a relative's wedding, or a school project, as if nothing were more fulfilling than to add more work to my life.

"Anybody can be a creative" is a phrase I hear bandied about ad agencies, usually by upper-management types who are trying to foster this wild idea that creativity lives in the ether, waiting for anyone to pluck its fruit. I believe the statement is said as an attempt to be inspirational. It's not. It's insulting.

For example, were I to approach my mechanic and say, "Hey, anybody can fix a car," he'd likely take umbrage. My mechanic, born with a clever knack for understanding complex machinery and trained to be among the best in his field, deserves better than my droll assessment that his skills are pedestrian at best. As creatives, we deserve the same courtesy.

After all, not only are we born with  more weight on the left sides of our brains, we have honed and labored  our craft since our childhoods. To say, "Anyone can be a creative" is no less ridiculous than saying anyone can be a brain surgeon or an NBA power forward. 

I could never be an accountant. I could never be a world champion hotdog eater or a capable plumber or a cutthroat divorce lawyer. I haven't the talent for any of those pursuits, but I appreciate those who do. I should hope they have the same respect for me. 

Jeremy Harper is Chief Instigator of Storm the Castle Creative and is not available to create your birth announcement. 

Ending the War on "Happy Holidays"

I have a friend and colleague who hates this time of year, at least in portion. It has nothing to do with seasonal depression or Christmas commercialization or the bone-chilling cold. His Yuletide disdain stems from a benign expression and has sapped him of his good cheer. 

"I hate having to say 'Happy Holidays,'" he grouses, glaring at a growing pile of Holiday card job and ad requests on his desk. 

My friend yearns for the quaint days when "Merry Christmas" covered it all, when no one was compelled to appeal to the sensitivities of multiple beliefs. To him, including everyone means sacrificing his own culture – one that was universally accepted before society began to overthink itself into a political correct abyss. 

But the world is much, much smaller now. We live in an age where marketers know you better than you know yourself. Today, everyone is our neighbor, whether they live in Paris, Arkansas or Paris, France. The world is our market place, but individuals are the target audience. A seasons greeting is as likely to be "Happy Diwali" as it is "Merry Christmas." 

As an agent of advertising, I've not only accepted "Happy Holidays," I've embraced it. It's the tidy "glad tidings" that fits neatly into conversation and a corporate greeting cards. It offends no one except those who long for incandescent Christmas bulbs and aluminum Christmas trees. Faithfully translated, "Happy Holidays" literally means "Merry Christmas," "Happy Hanukkah," "Happy Festivus" or any of a dozen greetings you may wish to extend this frigid winter. 

Learn to love Happy Holidays, y'all. You'll find the season merrier. 

The many forms and legitimate function of advertising stereotypes

Recent news in advertising has centered on regulating stereotyping in advertising. I have two sons. Advertising stereotypes concerns me, especially when they perpetuate ideals detrimental to society’s growth.

A post in Adweek took on Carl’s Junior advertising as a prime example. Cartoonishly sexist with its bikini-clad models jamming enormous hamburgers into their mouths, the Carl’s Junior brand has long been “Exhibit A” for advertising’s negative use of stereotypes. It’s effort to reform and focus on food is applauded.

But there is a case for stereotypes.

For creatives, the stereotype is the launching point for a message that must be delivered quicker than a synapses can snap. For example, thanks to a decades-long diet of Homer Simpson and Peter Griffen, we’re all well aware that suburban Dads are a dopey, selfish slovenly lot with soft guts and an unending appetite for beer.

We all look this, right guys?

That single stereotype has given birth to a billion television commercials, ranging from beer and cable TV packages to deodorant and potato chips. And we’ll keep on perpetuating this stereotype. Why? Consumers seem to like it.

In fact, there are many stereotypes to which consumers gravitate: Sensible Mom, Hip Minority, Wisecracking Teen, Nosey Neighbor, Funky Grandma, Precocious Kid, Fun Loving Girlfriends, Savvy Millennial, Grouchy Father-In-Law. Why won’t they go away?

Two reasons: consumers eat them up and ad agencies find it cost effective to spoon it ‘em out. After all, the majority of advertising isn’t meant to nudge society forward. It’s designed to connect with consumers in very broad ways. To stray from stereotypes is to take a risk. Considering the cost of a 30-second TV spot, most clients are willing to exchange a stab at the avant gard for a proven commodity.

Stereotypes aren’t going way, but they can evolve. Dopey Dad can acquire a few IQ points. Father-In-Laws can lighten up and Precocious Kids can speak more like real kids. But don’t count on too many Carl’s Junior transformations. Somebody has got to sell the burgers.