Jason Bagley

If your briefs make creatives sad and sleepy, you're probably doing these 4 things. (Learned during my 16+ years at W+K, and used them to win 60+ Cannes Lions). 1. Not telling the whole truth. Most facts are about as inspiring as the instructions on my hair jelly. What creatives need is the truth. Luke Sullivan suggests asking: “What is the truest thing we can say about this product, brand, category, culture, or customer’s life?” People thought the Beetle was ugly. They put it in the brief and got an iconic campaign. When CPB won Dominos, everyone knew the pizza sucked. Instead of stepping around it, they walked directly into it. What does everybody know but nobody wants to put in the brief? 2. Describing the audience like they’re a Pinterest board. “She loves yoga, latte art and slow mornings.” She sounds less like a human and more like a candle. Give me a human. What did she do this week? What annoys her? How is she a contradiction, a hypocrite, or a hero? We pitched Tide Cold Water. The audience was women 25–35, and Tide wanted to talk about cold water as the environmentally responsible thing to do. Then the strategist Nick Barham found two better truths: These women spent more on clothes than any group of women in history. And they wanted to look like they cared about the environment, but wouldn’t spend money or make sacrifices for it. Aha. Cold water is better for your clothes and the planet. Do it for vanity and tell everybody you did it for the Earth. “Vanity Will Save the World.” We won the pitch. Then the client told us they couldn’t afford to make it. Advertising! 3. Using a generic competitor slide from eight months ago. Look at what the competition is doing right now. Then look at what they aren’t doing. When we got Old Spice, Axe was crushing it with funny ads about young, inexperienced guys trying to get laid. So we went somewhere else. Old Spice became about men of experience, with a completely different humour. Don’t ask, “How do we beat their thing?” Ask, “What thing are they leaving undefended?” Then go steal that. 4. Not having an enemy. Great ideas need something to fight. Liquid Death isn’t just selling water. It’s fighting the soft, serene, whispery world where apparently drinking water requires you to sit beside a mountain stream and listen to a flute. Patagonia fights consumerism. Oatly fights Big Dairy. Find the thing your brand is against. Name it. Suddenly everybody has something to throw rocks at. Legendary Creative Director/Art Director Jessica Shriftman is extremely good at this stuff. She’s used versions of these techniques to create iconic work for Billie, OKCupid, Delta, Equinox and more. We talked about all of it on the latest episode of The Bagley Talks To An Important Person. She also told me a story involving pubes. Obviously that’s the important part. Comment “Pubes” and I’ll send you the link. Finally, a sensible use for LinkedIn.

I just built a GPT for creative directors who are tired of watering down great work just to get it approved. It's based on the strategies I've used for the past 15 years to sell breakthrough campaigns to brands like Nike, Old Spice, LIFE360, and countless others, and will help you start selling work your proud of in the next 30 days. If you’re tired of watching your best work get watered down or killed, here's the link: https://lnkd.in/gmZ4tmWg

The biggest reason you can't sell great creative to clients isn’t the work. It’s that nobody teaches creative directors how to get work approved. So I built a free GPT. It’s trained on the exact approval strategies I’ve used over the past 15 years to help get breakthrough campaigns sold to brands like Nike, Old Spice, P&G, and LIFE360. If you’re tired of watching your best work get watered down or killed, here's the link: https://lnkd.in/gmZ4tmWg

EVERY DECK YOU SHOW IS CASTING A VOTE FOR WHO YOU BECOME IN THIS INDUSTRY. I spent 16 years at Wieden+Kennedy, picked up 60-ish Cannes Lions, 3 Emmys, and here's what I've watched happen to hundreds of creatives in that time: Every time you present ideas, you're either building a reputation as: "The safe pair of hands who always nails what was asked for." or "The psychopath who always shows up with something insane and un-ignorable." Both are career strategies. Only one leads to a portfolio full of iconic campaigns. Most creatives don't realize they're choosing. They present a couple of wild ideas, watch them die, then revert to "what was asked for" and tell themselves, "I did what I could. It was out of my hands." It's not. Safe work never changes your career. It just quietly extends it in the short term, and makes you irrelevant in the long term. Most bold ideas die. But the few that survive are the only ones anyone remembers. The creatives who end up with the careers everyone else wants don't just "present bold ideas sometimes." They push every brief to the edge of madness, every time. They don't present "one safe, one crazy." They don't give the room an easy exit. When the bold work gets killed, they just come back with more bold work. If they can't sell it on that client, they take the same approach on the next one. If they can't sell it at that agency, they move agencies. Sometimes they go long stretches without selling an idea. But their reputation quietly spreads: "This is the person who always shows up with insane, edge-of-madness ideas. If you want something safe, don't even bother putting them on it." And once that's your reputation, the people who want that kind of work start fighting to get you on their briefs. And eventually, better agencies start fighting to get you on their team. That's not a vibe. That's a career strategy. This is about the part of the process you control: "Push it to the edge of madness" is not a metaphor. It's operating instructions. "It has to be extremely something, because medium something won't break through." — Joe Staples Dramatic is not good enough. Make it biblical. Beautiful is not beautiful enough. Make people's eyes shoot out of their heads, bounce off a wall, and get lost in the flower beds. If it's funny, I guarantee it's not funny enough — push the comedy 1000% further. And don't pull up short because you think the client won't buy it. It's their job to kill great work, not yours. To help drop-kick ideas past "acceptable" and into madness, my teams and I use 63 provocative questions that I refer to as the Infinite Idea Generator. If you want it, you can grab a free copy here: https://lnkd.in/gB6M3ucW I'll be eating curly fries in a candlelit lodge built into the side of a forgotten volcano next to an Arby's at the edge of madness, waiting to hear how it goes.

There’s one key I’ve seen unlock every creative door. It drop‑kicked my very unsexy career into full-demon mode. I had a mediocre portfolio. No signs of ever being within 30 miles of a Cannes Lion—let alone winning one. Then something happened. I got handed a key. In less than 18 months, that key took me from writing B2B engineering ads to making award‑winning work at Wieden + Kennedy. Let me be clear: You could’ve filled four Costcos and a Carnival Cruise with creatives more talented than me. The difference? I had the key. Most didn’t. The key that unlocks all creative doors: world‑class mentorship. I know — anticlimactic reveal. That’s the problem. “Mentorship” sounds so mundane that everyone wildly underestimates how transformative it is. When an ambitious creative gets deep mentorship from a world‑class creative, they don’t get 20% better. They get 1000% better in half the time. And their career permanently changes. It’s not “a” way to become world‑class, it’s the only way I’ve ever seen work. After 20 years in the business, I’ve never seen an exception: Jim Riswold → Dan Wieden  Jayanta Jenkins → Jimmy Smith → Dan Wieden  Craig Allen & Eric Kallman → Scott Vitrone & Ian Reichenthal  Jaclyn Rink Crowley → Kerry Keenan  Guto Araki → Brent Anderson  Karl Lieberman → Jeff Kling No one gets there alone. The problem: The certified‑supreme‑wizard‑level creatives most capable of transforming a career are the ones with the least time to do it. You can’t just DM: “Hey Intergalactic CCO Person, got 45 minutes to critique my book?” So when I left W+K, I got a little obsessed with this question: “If most creatives will never get to sit in a room with these ultra‑elite‑robe‑wearing high sorcerers like I’ve been able to… How can I give as many creatives as possible access to their brains?” Three years ago, I started THE BAGLEY TALKS TO AN IMPORTANT PERSON PODCAST to try to solve exactly that. I sit down with the people behind the work you’re jealous of— global CCOs, founders, creative assassins— and make them reveal the good stuff: -How they actually think about briefs  -How they push work to the edge of madness  -How they sell insane ideas to nervous clients  -The mistakes, meltdowns, and self‑doubt that never make it into case studies If you’ve never had a real mentor, or you just want more secrets and techniques from the world's best, you can check it out. Watch the podcast on Youtube: https://lnkd.in/gegyg3Kf Listen on Spotify: https://lnkd.in/gh945NGH Apple Music: https://lnkd.in/gYiyvTb6

Creative directors manage multi‑million‑dollar brands with less training than a hotel waffle‑batter refiller. Here’s what creative directors get: “Congrats, you’re in charge now. Try not to die. Let us know if you have questions.” Account people and strategists get training decks, workshops, offsites, lanyards. CDs get a new Slack channel and a P.F. Chang’s gift card. It’s not because anyone’s cruel. It’s because there was never anything to hand you. The thing they should have built – a real playbook for being a CD – never got made. So when they handed you the title, they accidentally handed you the absence of about 10 years of training nobody ever wrote down. I watched this happen for 16 years at Wieden + Kennedy. I came in as a junior. Then CD. Then CCO. And every single time a new wave of CDs showed up, the pattern was the same: -Find the most talented creative in the room.  -Give them “Creative Director.”  -Give them some humans to manage.  -Pray. What usually happens? A great creative becomes a mediocre leader. Not because they’re dumb. Because the job changed and nobody told them. -Making great work and leading a team that makes great work are not the same skill. -Presenting an idea to three people and selling it through four layers of client + legal + brand + procurement are not the same skill. -Trusting your instincts about a script and trusting your instincts about a human who reports to you are not the same skill. The industry knows this. They’ve watched it happen to every cohort of creatives they’ve ever promoted. And still… no real training program. Just “CC: you” on more emails. So if you’re a CD who’s been trying to duct‑tape this job together alone, I made something for you: A free 40‑minute masterclass on the 7 secrets to becoming a world‑class CD (without turning into a burned‑out, fork‑tongued lizard witch in vintage sneakers). You can check it out here: https://bit.ly/4xxLe7y

If you’re tired of watching your bonkers ideas die because clients keep buying the safe option, start here. One of the most common questions I get from creatives is, “How do you sell great work to clients?” A while back I was talking to my friend, legendary‑important person and Worldwide CCO of BBDO, Chris Beresford-Hill, about our other friend, in‑the‑running‑for‑greatest‑creative‑of‑all‑time Ian Reichenthal. And what Chris said about Ian is basically the bedrock, cornerstone, mega‑principle of selling great work. Chris was saying that he recently hired Ian to work on what turned out to be a tough project. With every presentation, the clients kept changing the brief, the message, the deliverables, the everything. You know the drill. And every time, Ian just kept coming back with more great work. Just a relentless, Christmas‑on‑a‑cracker volcano of ideas.   I teach CDs lots of techniques and principles that dramatically increase your odds of selling great ideas to clients. You should master as many as you can. But the first, most important one? The thing every creative with a “makes‑you‑want‑to‑cry” portfolio has in common? It’s this: Never present an idea you don’t think could be great. No “sacrificial lambs.” No “this one’s for them, this one’s for us.” If your CD, CCO, or client kills the work, you just keep coming back with more great work. The minute you give humans a more comfortable, “safer” option, they’ll take it. It’s not because they’re stupid, it’s because that’s how our fear is wired. So the next question is: How does someone like Ian (and every other top creative) become so prolific they can keep coming back with great ideas, without burning out and turning into a hollow, idea‑less husk? They don’t wait for lightning. They interrogate the brief with a stupid amount of good questions. Just like AI, your brain needs decent prompts. Garbage prompts = garbage ideas. Great prompts = great ideas. The more provocative prompts you have, the more provocative ideas you’ll get. So over the years I developed 63 provocative questions that my teams and I have used at Wieden + Kennedy and now at ALTO to get ideas flowing like a dangerous, out‑of‑control volcano (which is exactly the kind you want). I call it The Infinite Idea Generator, and it’s been responsible for a truly irresponsible number of ideas. If you wanna try it, you can download it here: https://lnkd.in/gB6M3ucW Then use it to get ideas flyin’ off you like a tornado in pants, and let me know how it goes.

If you’re a creative who secretly thinks you should be further along by now, this is my “I blew up my fancy job for you” story. Sixteen years at Wieden+Kennedy. By the end, I was CCO, which is Latin for “person who goes to a lot of meetings and occasionally signs off on something cool.” Along the way there were 60-ish Cannes Lions, 3 Emmys, some unusably large D&AD Black Pencils, etc. Very flattering. Very shiny. Very hard to keep dusted. Then I left. Not because the job was bad.  Because I realized most of my days had become filled with things that didn’t bring me joy, and it was probably starting to show. What I missed was watching a creative who feared they didn’t have what it takes… suddenly start making the work everyone talks about. Seeing someone go from “I hope nobody notices this ad” to “oh crap, we just won our first Lion” was way better than my own wins. I realized my favorite part of the job wasn’t being “the guy.” It was helping other people become “that person” on their team. So I did the only logical thing: Left one of the best jobs in advertising to start a fictional‑sounding school with an uncomfortably long name: The Audacious School of Astonishing Pursuits (ASAP). I teach creatives and creative leaders (ACD→CCO) how to:  -Consistently generate breakthrough ideas  -Actually sell them to nervous clients  -Lead teams to the best work of their lives with the confidence and joy of a caffeinated raccoon wearing a blazer. The programs are called: Creative Megamachine (for creatives): tinyurl.com/muuzrxjz CD Megamachine (for CDs/ACDs/ECDs): bit.ly/4vdlV9y 750+ creatives have come through so far with a 5-star rating — who knew?! If you’re a creative reading this: the career you’ve been watching other people have? It’s not magic. It’s reps + systems + some painful honesty. But if you’re suspicious, good. Don’t buy anything. Start with a bunch of free, non-scary stuff instead: Free Masterclass for Creatives The 7-part system top creatives use to make the work everyone talks about, and turn it into promotions, raises, and better jobs: bit.ly/3QgA32g Free Masterclass for Creative Directors My exact leadership system you can use to sell great work to clients, win awards, pitches, and get the career you always wanted: bit.ly/4vKNsyR The Bagley Talks To An Important Person Podcast I interview the industry’s top creative leaders, creatives, and assorted chaos gremlins behind the work you’re jealous of: tinyurl.com/5emfcey9 Follow me on Instagram For short rants, process breakdowns, BTS, and the occasional unsolicited career intervention, follow me here: tinyurl.com/y6ezjvbk Whether we ever work together or not, at least do this: Stop leaving your career in the hands of others, waiting for “the right agency” or “the right client.” Do whatever it takes to start making the work you know you have in you. Future you will be watching the rerun of this year and judging.