So, here’s the other way it might go down.

Or up.

Or in some generally more interesting direction that the gloom- and doomsaying you generally hear when the advertising chattering class starts vomiting about generative AI.

All kicked off by a thought from the remarkable Bob Brihn, or at least the brilliantly inventive spirit that inhabits his impressively bearded head. His argument, at least as I’d set it up, goes like so:

AI is a tool, an evolving tool, to be sure, but a tool, none-the less.

While fast and fluid, that tool is still relatively limited to causal-data-and-effect output. If the prompt reads “write a Google Ad that incorporates top adult diaper keywords to maximize clickthrough and sales conversion among pants-pooping adults 55+, that’s just what it’ll do.

It will not, however, find the twist, the spin, the unexpected connection, or unusual construction of those elements. Even if you try some clever hacks for your prompt like “write it in the style of a country and western song title with a surprising ending.”

That’s where we, the creative schmucks who go through everything from shpilkes to aching tsuris to open minds, win hearts, and entice wallets come in.

Because that’s precisely what we, still uniquely, do.

And while we might have to learn a few new tricks, including the aforementioned prompt hacks, that’s not a particularly steep learning curve. Not with all the paint-by-numbers guidance out there.

All of which has three novel implications where friend Brihn’s thinking turns the previously beat up into the positively upbeat: 

First, the smart paintbrush isn’t about to replace the imaginative painter.

Second, the emergence of the tool is likely to inspire something of a creative renaissance in the advertising industry. Especially given the hellbent-for-pink-slips predilection of the holding companies to shift from selling creativity into vending brand-proprietary AI platforms.  

Forrester ad analyst Jay Pattisall calls this a shift to marketing “productized technology solutions,” which, frankly, is nausea-inducing just to repeat. But his point is well taken: they’re merchandising themselves into an uncreative corner.

And, if that’s where they want to go, I say go thou forthwith, because we smaller fry got bigger fish on the line.

Third, this is particularly good news for ad types who are mindlessly seen as obsolete: this stuff is so new, it’ll take a generation before the “next generation” can claim a native AI advantage.

And a Bronx cheer to you, too, Millennials, Gen Z, and Gen Alpha.

Diving in, we were both struck by unmistakable parallels to the last time creative talent started fleeing the majors because they felt constrained by ham-fisted bureaucracy, stymied by the green C-suite eyeshades, and persuaded they could do it better.

And they were right, especially when you consider just a few of the names that bubbled up in the 1980s—Goodby, Wieden, Fallon, Crispin, Moynihan, Freeman, and, hell, add your own to the litter pick.

So here we are with history, as usual, rhyming, not repeating. Not just because we say so, but because clients are going to demand to stand out from a sea of computational sameness.

Quoting Pattisall on this:

“Don’t look at this (with) dread. Look at this as an opportunity to reshape the business model away from billable hours and commoditized creative. (The) industry is about to change its model and the way it creates for the first time in over 50 years. Change can be scary but it’s also an opportunity.”

Writ more simply: it’s a matter of using the tools or being a tool. Recognizing that creative individualism will again rule the day. And, once again, separating ourselves from the bigs.

In the spirit of shameless self-promotion, it’s also exactly why brands are going to need us.