"Creative," My A**

$86 billion for this? A Curmudgie take on some modern marketing .

$86 billion. That’s how much money was spent on TV advertising in 2023. For a medium, we’re told “nobody watches anymore,” that’s not nothing. You’d think with that kind of ad spend, we’d be swimming in storytelling genius from some of the largest and smartest companies in the world. Like Apple, Mercedes-Benz, Procter & Gamble, and Kars4Kids. Just kidding about that last one—checking to see if you’re paying attention.

Instead, we’re up to our necks in geckos, emus, and nasally children singing off-key about car donations. This isn’t a rant about the medium of television. It’s a rant about messaging—specifically, the kind of messaging that passes for “creative” with too many companies. Somewhere along the line, “creative” stopped meaning “original” or “insightful” and started meaning “weird mascot that tests well with 18-to-34-year-olds.” Or “it tested well.”

Let’s take a quick tour through the Curmudgie halls of advertising mediocrity. Were it only these three, but I think you’ll get my drift.

Exhibit A: Insurance Advertising

The late great journalist and critic H.L. Mencken (right here, folks!) said in 1926:

“No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public.”

When did insurance advertising become a thing? It was the late 90s when Geico kicked it off, using a gecko as its spokesperson. The gecko was chosen at the time because, as legend has it, the Screen Actors Guild was on strike and reptiles don’t need residuals. Not to be outdone, Geico’s competitors looked on and said, “Well, I can do that, too. And be even funnier!” (“Funny” being a relative term.) Sure enough, we soon had Flo, the emu, and then, just to cover themselves in case a gecko wasn’t relatable, Geico introduced the caveman. Mencken was 75 years ahead of the insurance advertisers.

Ugh.

Funny? I guess, if your bar for humor is somewhere between a knock-knock joke and a whoopee cushion. Effective? Who knows? Reminds me of the old advertising aphorism, “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” As Curmudg sees it, insurance advertising “works” because of the amount of money thrown at it, not because of the quality of the commercials.

I usually only pay for what I need. However, the emu commercial did prompt me to review my State Farm bill. Sure enough, I found a charge from In-N-Out for the fries I ordered, after asking myself, “Do I really need fries with this Double-Double?” Appreciate it, guys.

Exhibit B: Kars4Kids

This one is personal. My wife banned shoes in the house after I broke two TVs by throwing them at the screen during a Kars4Kids ad. I’m not sure what’s more annoying—the nasally theme song or the horrible lip-synching of the kids playing instruments. Worse yet is when I end up walking around the house humming that damn tune. And those poor kids! That commercial has been running for so long that those kids probably have their own kids by now.

Exhibit C: Burger King

They absolutely own sports advertising on TV. And I only wish their burgers were as wonderful as they appear on the big screen. The last time I “had it my way” was when I had hair on my head, which was also the last time Burger King changed the typeface in their ads, also in the late ‘70s. As in 1870. Or was it 1970? Doesn’t matter.

And while it’s fun to get this off my chest, the point here isn’t about TV advertising—it’s about messaging, whether it’s via old or new school media. And it’s not just TV. The dumb is everywhere. Streaming. Social. Billboards. Even podcasts now come with “funny” scripted ads that make you wish for the sweet relief of silence. And the people who write this stuff? They’re not stupid. The agencies are full of clever, talented folks. The clients signing off on it are some of the biggest companies in the world.

So, what gives?

Somewhere along the way, too many advertisers stopped trying to connect and started trying to distract. To entertain. To shout louder, be more quirky, and go viral. Cut through the clutter. But when your ads are the ones that are the clutter, your work is an insult to the word “creative.”

I know what some of you are thinking: Who am I to judge? I’m just a guy yelling at the screen. But maybe that’s the point. If even an old fart with no TikTok account and an actual landline can spot the soullessness of it all, maybe it’s not a matter of taste. Maybe it’s just garbage designed for the lowest common denominator.

There used to be advertising that made you feel something. That made you think. That earned your attention. Volkswagen’s “Think Small.” Apple’s “1984.” Ads that stuck because they had a point of view. Even those dusty old Men’s Wearhouse commercials—low-budget, sure, but they told you what to expect. You remember: “You’re going to like the way you look.” He wasn’t wrong.

(And for the record, MW delivered on the promise. That’s a whole other topic that will be covered here soon.)

Now? We’ve got talking animals and CGI spokespeople that look like they were created in a failed Pixar internship.

If there’s a lesson here, it’s this: Whether you're selling insurance or burgers or cars-for-kids tax write-offs, maybe stop trying to be funny. Try being real. Try being actually creative. Hell, try convincing by being true to the mission and values of the companies that you speak for.

Just don’t expect me to call it “creative” when it’s clearly not.

TL;DR: Modern advertising has lost the plot. Once, ads had soul and substance. Now, it’s all mascots and noise. The column takes a cranky stroll through today’s worst offenders—and makes the case for bringing meaning back to the message.

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