Sunday, April 3, 2011

The thoroughly amorphous brief.


Ever dare your fellow presenters to say something stupid in a meeting? It's a fun game. You can play it at dinner parties, too. You come up with a ridiculous word, the silliest you can think of, and you weave it into your presentation. I once gave it a go and had to say the word, "dunderhead." When I said it, though, "dunderhead" only made me look like one.

It's hard to accommodate agendas. I once had a client who forbids all words beginning with "un." Having something to do with certain negative words, his theory only made me thirsty for a 7UP and, unsurprisingly, gave him a headline that was unsmart.

  We do this sort of thing all the time when we write pithy strategy statements. These directives read with the terseness of a tag line. Very often, they contain the well-chosen word that sings “written,” which, like a cheerleader, cheers its personal agenda on into the finals.

  A few years ago, I had a brief with the word "mojo." With that as a guide, the first 3 campaigns I reviewed depicted the benefit as some sort of voodoo power, as if the wholesome product came with a hex or something. Had it been described as "an energetic feeling," we would have been better off. Clever strategy statements are often misleading.

  I want neutral. I want the right amount of vagueness, with all the edges rounded off, void of fancy words and style agenda. Facts, however, I do want – lots of them.

  I want facts about the target until the target becomes a human being; I want facts about why the target should buy it and specifics about what they should buy this instead of. Tell me what makes him or her tick. Whether I understand them or not, give me as many facts about this business as possible. Like the points on a Seurat canvas, the facts add up to something. A ton of them give the creatives a gut feeling, a gestalt toward which they can work; not only that, but enough facts will create a vibe against which a creative director can judge work.

  That's not to say a brief should lack focus. We should be aware of the objectives and constraints, work within specific and agreed bounds, bounds that every one understands and appreciates. However, the briefing document should restrain from admitting any executional preferences.

  Yes, it's difficult. Journalists have struggled with the subtlety of yellow journalism for centuries, and when you think about it, it's impossible to be totally objective. Our instinct tells us that we will improve our writing if we are reductive and succinct, so in coming up with one word that says what 3 words say, we come up with words that draw a little too much attention to themselves. Strunk and White gave the best advice of all: “Just say the words;” I would only add, and give us facts – give me liberty and give me facts! Diffusing our prejudices with facts, grounds the document in the realities surrounding the problem.

  I did some poking around. BBH once distinguished between "What is the product?" and "What is the brand?" I like that.  JWT harped on the "key response." I like that, too. BMP liked to ask, "What do we know about them that will help us?" Russell Davies went through a, "What is it FOR?" phase. Chiat asked for the most "disruptive" thought. Fantastic. Why not think about all these approaches, so I'm swayed by none of them.

  When we start out, we are describing something amorphous, which we are encouraging the team to create. Let’s keep it that way. It’s really okay. The brief doesn't have to be perfectly articulate or pithy. It doesn't have to be crisp or quotable. It doesn't have to be crafted, except to be neutral. It simply has to be ambitious.