I attended my first Cannes Lions this year, by way of a global creativity contest at Edelman that I entered in a burst of creativity coinciding with a quiet weekend.
In many ways, the week-long Festival of Creativity reminded me why I sought communications as a major during my undergrad days and, later, public relations as a career.
Well before I acquired even a meager understanding of what public relations actually was, I desired a career that 1) made it someone’s job to understand—and continue learning—how the media works, and 2) did not presuppose a career in academia. Thanks to a successful and highly speculative application for a PR internship (“So… What’s a… ‘pitch?’”), I embarked on a career that clicked over its 20th year this month.
It struck me at the time that an earned-media-centric approach was inherently more credible. To pursue advertising, I reasoned, would have meant fighting against audience's desire to spend gobs of money on any hardware that helped them escape a marketing message — from home movie formats to the Sony Walkman and, soon after graduation, DVRs like TiVo.
In short, I saw an “Interruption Industry", and the technology industry (where my biases admittedly reside) actively wanted to cripple it. I ran the other way.
Fast forward to 2016 where, like a great many other things, capabilities found in hardware have moved to software (e.g., ad-blockers) and the various marketing disciplines are slamming together faster than two sides of The Wall of Death at a Lamb of God show. Consumers have more control over their media consumption and will quickly (and sometimes loudly) dump any brand that breaks the unwritten contract of mutual, objective value in exchange for attention.
While the advertising and marketing-services industry has long claimed a bet-the-business interest in earning the attention of those it most wishes to influence, it appears that it is only now finally starting to understand or, at the very least, becoming intellectually honest about doing so.
In other words, the Interruption Industry is growing up, going through its “awkward phase.” Unlike mine, though, it is unlikely to last just a weekend or two.
All of this was evident at Cannes, even to the newcomer. Looking at the vast gallery of foamcore-mounted summaries that showcased the shortlisted entries, it was often unclear where one marketing communications discipline ended and another began.
“Isn’t that more of a PR thing?”
“This one sounds more like an activation to me.”
“’Cyber?’ Really?”
While this blending of terms and definitions may have been a source of loud teeth-gnashing angst for brands, agencies, and juries alike amid those late, warm, rosé-dampened evenings, I actually take it as a positive signal. It’s when definitions go through a period of fluidity and uncertainty that innovative organizations and individuals leverage the opportunity to deliver clarity. When this occurs, the state of the art advances.
If I could predict when and how this would happen, I perhaps would have a very different job. What I do know is that there are encouraging signs that the Interruption Industry is evolving, and that’s good news for marketers, communicators, and media-consumers alike.
I believed this prior to attending Cannes and I’m even more convinced having attended for the first time: This evolution will be led by strong earned media instincts, supported by advertising instead of driven by it. This is the only consistent and reliable variable across decades—no one wants to be interrupted.
It’s just another lesson we learn as we grow up.
Phil Gomes is a senior vice president in the Chicago office.