A Pragmatist’s Take on Advertising’s Age Problem

At 48 years old, I can’t complain about an industry built for people like me. Instead I’m drawing on 25 years in the ad business to help nudge the age conversation in a positive, practical direction.

<In February 2019 I wrote a piece for Adweek that sits behind a paywall. I recently found a saved draft in Medium, which I think is a longer version of what was published.>

With the noted exceptions of extended hangovers, a few grey hairs, and a deep nostalgia for pre-Tattoo You Rolling Stones, I don’t feel old.

In fact I’m feeling pretty spry these days.

Physically, knock on wood.

Mentally, I’m at an intersection of having a lot to teach, but still with a strong desire to learn.

I’m 48. Only 48.

But in my industry — advertising — that makes me a dinosaur.

If you don’t work in advertising, you might find this statement absurd. But consider two data-points from the Bureau of Labor Statistics:

• 62% of workers in advertising, public relations and related services are under 45.
• The median age in our industry — 40.2 — has stayed the virtually same for more than a decade, unlike nearly every other professional services category.

Additionally, According to an IPA Excellence paper, written by AMV BBDO’s Strategy Director Olivia Stubbings, people over 50 represent just 6% of the ad industry workforce in the UK. While a like-for-like statistic for the US is hard to come by, I’d bet you dollars to donuts it’s pretty similar.

If not for those statistics, I’d feel great about where I am currently, with an infinite runway ahead of me. The thing is, I was never young. My youth was never a professional asset. Being cool — in the know — wasn’t my currency.

In my 20s and 30s, my value was hard work, accountability, thoughtfulness. In my 40s, it’s empowering people, leading with empathy, being a good listener, pragmatism in the face of complex challenges. I’m far more valuable at 48 than 28, even taking into account salary disparity.

Still, if I’m honest, it worries me, as it does a lot of others. To the point where a few years ago I deleted my business school graduation year (2003) from LinkedIn. “Why make it easier for someone to peg my age?” I asked myself, feeling an enormous amount of shame.

There are two primary forces driving this reality, one which is most often talked about; the other a far less sexy, but reality-based, truth.

The obvious enemy of age in advertising is how we fetishize youth, as if it’s a magic elixir for creativity and innovation. This is a real thing I’ve personally witnessed many times in my career.

The second — and equally, if not more so — driving force is the economics of our business. It’s well documented that procurement-led relationships exert negative margin pressure, which puts the publicly held holding companies in a challenging position come earnings season. Obviously, the simplest fix is to jettison bigger salaries in favor of smaller ones; overwhelmingly, bigger salaries are tied to older workers. And while I don’t necessarily advocate for this tactic, it’s only good business to use more affordable labor IF (and ONLY if) you can maintain the quality of your output.

And therein lies the rub. Or rubs, I should say. And they’re related.

Rub One is that as an industry we’ve become very good at talking ourselves into youth-based (read: cheaper) solutions as a suitable (better?) alternative for experience. Because in creative businesses like ours, we’re generally loathe to admit we make decisions based on dollars vs. art. It feels, ironically, off-brand. But the financial pressures are an anvil, and business is business.

Rub Two — related — is that I’ve not seen a single spreadsheet that can quantify the relative quality of work output based on someone’s age. There’s evidence that suggests teams with a greater diversity of age perform at a higher level; but I’ve yet to see research specifically on the impact age has on agency creative and billings. There’s no real proof one way or another. For a business that preaches measurement and optimization, we’re not nearly as maniacal as we need to be in quantifying our contributions to our clients and bosses — and pounding that narrative at every chance.

Together, what emerges is a situation in which advertising professionals of a certain age must — whether or not we like it, or think it’s fair — change how we think, work, and vocally advocate for ourselves and peers.

I’m hardly the first to wrestle with this. Cindy Gallop has partnered with AARP on the #DisruptAging initiative. Thoughtful pieces like this from Alex Murrell and this from David Burn (and this wonderfully and hilariously scathing piece from Bob Hoffman) do a fine job articulating the issue.

I’m grateful for all the aforementioned warriors, and appreciate them putting our industry on blast. I’m also keenly aware — in exploring how to use my voice and position of relative power to address ageism — that the advertising business was built by people like me, for people like me. My contribution cannot consist of railing against the system that suddenly isn’t to my benefit. And besides, the pragmatism that serves me so well professionally is how I solve most problems. I’m more of a tortoise than hare.

In the immediate term, I’ve settled on four actions to which I can personally commit, and I hope you consider.

1. Shift how we talk about innovation. Most of what we do in advertising is hard-working marketing communications. We make print ads, commercials, videos, banners, social posts, emails, experiential installations, and the like. Innovation doesn’t have to come in the form of fireworks and shiny objects. In fact, innovation can be quite boring at first blush: a new way of articulating an idea, a new use of an old technology, a clever way to unearth an insight or entire new audience. Youths have no more claim to innovation than anyone else. But it’s not until we stop fetishizing innovation that we can shift this particular narrative.

2. Stop conflating creativity with youth. Young people are creative. Old people are creative. People of color are creative. People of all genders and sexual orientation are creative.

Not every individual is creative. But creativity is by no means the domain of any single cohort.

This is an easy one.

3. Recognize the value of “older” consumers. The aforementioned Bob Hoffman thinks brands willfully ignore older consumers because the thought of old people “driving their cars, drinking their coffee, eating their hamburgers, and wearing their sneakers is so appalling and such an embarrassment that they willfully ignore and disparage the most valuable economic group in the history of the world.” I’m not sure I see it that nefariously. But I do think we need to shift our thinking to reflect some facts:

• According to Nielsen, people over 50 are “the most valuable generation in the history of marketing.” Yet only 5% of advertising is directed at them.
• As of 2015, Boomers controlled 70% of the country’s disposable income; outspending every other generation by $400 billion annually, providing over 50 percent of U.S. consumption.

To focus on Gen Z or millennials at the expense of anyone considered a grown-up is just bad business.

4. Celebrate my age. I’ve had a blessed career. And for both emotional and financial reasons, I hope it doesn’t end soon. But as you’ve read above, ageism is a reality in my business. It’s why I erased my graduation date on LinkedIn. But to spend the rest of my career in fear is both cowardly and inauthentic to what kind of role model I want to be. So from here forward, I will celebrate my rotations around the sun. I will never apologize for my years. I will share my experience and soak it up from others.

I emailed an early draft of this article to a former agency colleague and now full-time marketing professor at Kellogg. As professors do, he graded me: B-. Once I got over the sting, I realized his feedback was dead-on, namely that what’s missing from the dialogue is some reality-based, look-in-the-mirror tough love. We can blame the institution, which has its merits (and negatively impacts some more than others). But we also have to take ownership of our own growth, contribution, and story. Three tangible places to start:

1. More so than ever, it’s not very endearing to take a that-digital-stuff-is-for-the-kids approach. Digital and marketing are one and the same. None of us are above being curious about the latest trends and tactics. In fact, those of us with years under our belt can help contextualize a more measured and wiser approach to new tools based on how we’ve seen other marketplaces develop over our careers.

2. Swirl is something agencies are pretty good at creating. If you’ve been around long enough, you know how to spot it early and stamp it out. Focusing on what really matters makes a team more efficient; which has a positive impact on margin. Flex this muscle, hard.

3. How do I make a person buy my thing instead of the competitor’s? The brief hasn’t changed in 100 years, and it never will. Any perceived new “problem” is just an old one in a fancier outfit. People like us have seen it before in a different place. Draw on that experience to be a valued partner to colleagues and clients alike, and people will always want you around.

Advertising has an undeniable age problem. There are myriad reasons it exists, but no single way of fixing it. What I know is that it will take a combination of vocal advocates; a fundamental shift in how we think about creativity, innovation, and the value of older consumers; a focus on where we can add unique perspective; and a relentless drumbeat whereby we quantify our value and tell our story.

You’re free to look … I’ve put my graduation year back on LinkedIn. That act alone won’t solve anything; but if we all start celebrating years and experience I know we can change the conversation.

Thanks for reading all these words.

Ian