What makes an ad “great?” Is it a measure of sales value, creative novelty, cultural impact, or historical moment?

If advertising is a “business of ideas,” what do we mean by an “idea? Absent a clear definition, how do we spot one of the elusive bastards, much less evaluate its comparative worth?

Is data science bending the concept of “relevance” out of utility by treating it as a proxy for attention and interest? What if its more constrained meaning was the better lever?

In the new world of generative AI, what’s the difference between “curiosity” and “data acquisition?” Are they now just two ways to describe a similar intent leading to the same result? 

In case you’re wondering if The Reductionist has way too much time on he/his hands, or whether the microdose is just kicking in, let’s put it this way: lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time advertising started watching its mouth.

Or, rather, the words we use. And how we use them. 

As it stands, there are too many signs that the lack of clarity is making us less effective communicators. For people in the “communications business,” this is highly suboptimal.

Unless, of course, it’s just plain toxic.

The more I think about that Forrester consultant who told Ad Age, “Agencies need a different talent profile to succeed today than that old-school Madison Avenue idea-centric approach,” the more it’s clear he has zero clue about what an “advertising idea” actually is. And why it’s so very different from an engineering, medical, literary or, you bet, data-based idea.

Reading the online conversations about “great” ads and why they qualify as such, it feels like we’ve confused ourselves to the point of distraction. My suggestion: “great” is only great in the context of something specific. An ad can be historically great in selling something (DDB’s VW ads), in affecting social culture (Nike’s “Kap” campaign), in changing the direction of advertising (Apple’s “1984), or in serving as whatever North Star example you choose to aim at.

Relevance used to mean “for people like me,” an enormously useful test of brand messaging. But when the folks in the “data-reveals-all” pew start conflating “it has meaning to a consumer based on their past experience” with “it’ll be interesting and motivating because of that,” I have to beg off the bus.

Among the consequences of following that red herring up the stream: everyone queuing up duplicative dancing TikTok ads because consumers have previously liked duplicative dances. Instead of saying how should my brand show up on TikTok as something fascinating and new?

Worst of all, when we blur the lines between human curiosity and machine-driven data acquisition, we flatten the trajectory of unfettered minds following unexpected tangents to wherever they might lead.

Long ago in both dog and ad years, a person silly enough to allow an untrained and overly cocky kid to try his hand at this field told me, “Smart writing starts with clear thinking.”

Maybe the same could said for clear speaking. You think?