What if there was a different, fairer system for winning creative/effectiveness awards?

Like Democracy, marketing communication awards are a flawed system but in the absence of anything better, provide a system of recognition and reward many of us accept who work in marketing communications. Whilst acceptance often skews cynically, awards can provide an accepted mark of quality per the category of award and when we win, we often chose to ignore the flaws in the system: the expense to enter; the lack of new revenue directly linked to their issue; the inevitable bias of jurors and the extent to which awards, generally, self-serve ego rather than serve for the betterment of the industry. (Of course, there are exceptions that prove the rule.)

A Thankless Graft

These last few weeks I have been working with an independent agency to help them enter one stream of international awards (Cannes) and one Australian stream (Mumbrella). Cannes celebrates ‘creative excellence and effectiveness’ and Mumbrella celebrates ‘the best work and talent’. So far, so good.

But as we bite into each, both become far more time consuming than is reasonable if it’s not your day job, both emphasise what judges will be looking for (though not their impartiality) and both strike me as vulnerable to being gamed in the sense that one idea can be entered into multiple categories (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing of course, especially for the award owner). Perhaps most importantly, neither make the writer feel good about entering and by that, I mean when you upload that last submission you feel rinsed, flooded with a hollow positivity that looks for the good, or the upside in everything. And certainly, never able to entertain anything negative unless of course, negative was a strategic objective in which case one can be extremely positive about their negativity. 

And yes, this malaise is true even if you’ve used ChatGPT to pull a first draft together.

The ‘Faux’ Demand For Commercial Creativity

Over the years I’ve worked with some people who are uniquely gifted at writing award papers, usually planners. Specifically, these folk spring to mind: the beloved Tim Broadbent at Y&R in London. The brilliant Andy Nairn, at MCBD, now Lucky Generals. And the ever erudite, Alison Tilling, at VMLY&R, ANZ.

The conceit of effectiveness – that is, a commercial outcome is ascribed to a campaign on the balance of probability (thanks Andy) – is one that I now see has entered fully into creative excellence awards. Judges expect to see, indeed will be in maximum tut mode, if they don’t read soft and hard metric gain. The more the merrier. Which is fine, of course, but - and you know there’s a but coming - for many (low budget) entrants, they’re being asked to provide something they don’t have, don’t know or don’t understand why it’s so hard to obtain. 

And then there’s the question of what’s a legitimate effect metric. For instance, ROI, strictly speaking, isn’t an optimum arbiter for communication success given its inherent short termism. Better to measure net profit effect if you can and prove the investment capacity of the campaign in question. Although in doing, we sometimes expose the weakest of the 4Ps as, well, weak. On a side note, is always interesting how many LinkedIn perpetrators reflect, sagely, how influential packaging or even price can be, relative to promotion.

 

What If Awards Were Judged Differently?

In both Cannes and Mumbrella submissions, effectiveness is blow torched into the questioning, where measured metrics and performance criteria can be ticked off, either treated as objective setting hors d'oeuvres, or as clarifying digestif at the end of a rich meal.  And that’s fine, I guess. At least ‘ROI’ outcomes are being written up whether a product of causation or serendipitous correlation.

Now imagine an entirely different system of judging and award giving, sticking with the foodie theme.

One that of course recognises exceptionalism in creativity and effectiveness. But one that doesn’t demand multiple award submissions for the same piece of work or prejudice those that can write a story well, rather it recognises output in the wild and rewards the entire business behind the work. It possesses the right intellect and tools to assess outcome. It’s as likely to be interested in a tiny studio working out of the middle of nowhere, as much as a gargantuan who employs hundreds. And, when it comes knocking, it wouldn’t give you warning. Rather, no special treatment is expected, simply the treatment you’d give to your clients, your briefs, your work and your people, of course. On leaving, it might not even let you know that it’s been with you for the last volume of time needed to make its assessment, perhaps posing as an interested client. Let’s assume any recognition given will more than pay for that time. Let’s assume too that the whole thing isn’t run as a profit seeking business, rather is a joint venture between vested parties.

Possibly you might not hear from it again, any time soon, or if/when you do, the team would lose their marbles with excitement.  People would hug, whoop, yell and crack open the bubbles.  This would be an award that meant something to everyone.  Was something that everyone could relate to.

The Michelin Guide assesses restaurants based on five criteria: the quality of the ingredients, the harmony of flavours, the mastery of techniques, the personality of the chef as expressed through their cuisine, and consistency both across the entire menu and over time. (By way of contrast, Cannes Lion Awards feature 30 award categories across 9 tracks.)

Michelin inspectors, who are anonymous and passionate about food, visit restaurants anonymously and write detailed reports based on the quality of the food, presentation, mastery of techniques, and consistency.

And the Guide uses a star rating system:

One Star: "A very good restaurant in its category".

Two Stars: "Excellent cooking, worth a detour".

Three Stars: "Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey".

It is a simple rating system. It can’t be bought or gamed or charmed. And its prestige is meaningful. Its acknowledgement, a reason to visit for intrepid customers.

This said, the Michelin Guide is not immune to criticism.

For instance, some will argue that Michelin Stars place undue pressure on chefs and lead to unhealthy work environments, as restaurants strive to maintain their coveted status. Still, the similarity between a creative hot shop that’s grown quickly, backfilling capacity as it’s won new client after new client, and a Michelin starred kitchen, is not to be underestimated. In fact, the similarities are rather profound the more I think about it.

 

The Poverty Of Our Intentions

But, in a Michelin starred kitchen, less a topflight creative agency these days, perhaps, it’s the ability to see and understand the workings out that prompt huge respect for craft. Indeed, the process towards output is where equity and difference will lie - in the thinking, the problem solving, the trust, the push or pull, the polish and lived experience of building up a signature dish. Or idea. Of recognising its potential.

‘Process saves us from the poverty of our intentions’

Elizabeth Gilbert said, ‘Process saves us from the poverty of our intentions’ meaning if we turn up, if we do the work, the very act of iterating will generate quality output. Ask any writer, and they’ll wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment. What matters is showing up, not for the awards or accolades then, but in the graft of the work.  It’s only in the work that you can practice being better. And it is only in the work that you can really teach others too because practice, not theory, makes perfect.

And this is the thing I now realise that lacks in modern award submissions, the lack of characterful input (I don’t mean a neat and tidy summary of the strategy). Without process, there’s no soul, no culture, no flair to hang onto. It’s why Pixar was so effective in its early years. And it’s why we shouldn’t judge an agency or client on their award tally because it’s no indicator of how either are to work with. The truth of which brings me back to the start: a flawed system …

…although now I think I can suggest precisely why they’re flawed. Because they’re a system that’s tolerated rather than a system that teaches and inspires us how to avoid the poverty of our intentions.

Avoiding the poverty of our intentions would be something uniquely useful and uniquely different in marketing communication. A kind of playbook for process. But more than that, recognition for the masters of throughput. That would be something I’d love to articulate and write about. Without feeling robbed or squeezed or flooded come submission day.

For now, however, good luck to all those award writers for the year ahead. Don’t believe the AI hype either. Awards submissions are still a complete pain in the arse to write and edit. And will be for a fair time yet.