BACK when our planet was flat, the map makers of the day, rather than admit ignorance, filled the borders of our existence with all kinds of evil beasts just waiting to make a messy meal of the foolish wanderer.
That’s the image that always came to mind whenever I contemplated leaving my agency life behind for one of carefree independence.
My boss would warn me off, in a voice that always managed to come off as unselfish: “Yeah, but you never hear of those people again. It’s as if theycompletely disappear.”
Being as insecure as the next hack, I’d accept their wisdom. I’d seen the movies. “Stay off the moors,” the locals would say, and they were always right.
Five years ago this month, I finally ignored the advice.
I’m a big one for anniversaries of all kinds, and this one feels like a really important one. Yes, five years ago, I officially shunned the unanimous opinions of some of the smartest people I know, and walked out of my job as a creative director at Fallon in Minneapolis.
Why I finally decided to commit what looked at the time like professional suicide isn’t as important as what I’ve learnt since, but for the sake of back story, it was a combination of homesickness (could I spend more time in Australia, without giving up working in the US?) and opportunity (the freelance market was red-hot at the time).
As for what I’ve found since leaving the city walls, number one is, the flat-earthers are wrong. The reason no one ever hears from the Dearly Departed is that they’re too busy enjoying their own lives.
Now that I’m out here myself, the suppressed memories are coming back to me. I knew all along what became of them. I ran in to them from time to time. They’d have a tan, and a nice family, and they’d be off to Tahoe for the weekend.
Second thing is, life is very interesting out here on the margins. Far away from the crowding noise of agency agendas and creative fashions, you start to hear your own voice again, the one that speaks on behalf of your own common sense.
With that clarity has come opportunity. We’ve discovered (I say “we” because I was lucky enough to find the perfect business partner) that there are more than enough clients eager to have a close relationship with a pair of grown-up, well-credentialed, business-minded, entrepreneurial creative people unencumbered by agency overhead or over-think.
It’s incredible the difference it makes when you’re compensated for advancing a client’s business, instead of creating work that embellishes the agency’s position.
It would be fashionable to say that the system I deserted is a doomed business model, but that would be blatant jockeying, and besides, it isn’t true. Like it or not, agencies are the most efficient current form, especially for the bulk needs of large advertisers, and that’s okay by me, because my five years on the ‘outside’ have proven that it’s a great big world, with room for all of us.
I’m just me and my partner and a telephone line, and yet our business is as vitally healthy as any of the multinationals, maybe even more so. We have something to offer. So does Omnipublicisinterpubliccom.
So if you’re sitting on the edge, with a reel and a reputation and a decent amount of self-confidence, do it. Jump.
The more of us there are, the more interesting the industry will be. The more likely a big advertiser will see us all as simply one more tool to use. The more likely you’ll be having the time of your life, working for the best boss you’ll ever have—you.
Dion Hughes is partner in Minneapolis- based creative consultancy Dion&Mark. E: dion@dionandmark.com
