Frenemies: The Epic Disruption of the Advertising Industry

Another assault on agencies comes from publishing platforms performing the creative functions of ad agencies. This effort is fueled by native ads which can take the form of stories about a brand that appear in newspapers, magazines, or online and look like news stories; or compelling human interest stories in which the brand is barely mentioned. An impetus for these native ads came from the introduction of ad blockers, which imposed a nearly impregnable wall to block clearly labeled ads. Because they don’t appear to be ads, native tricks the ad-blocking software and, often, the consumer. Vice was a native pioneer when it went to Intel in 2013 and created an online Intel art exhibition that encouraged residents of certain areas to communicate with each other by joining, say, the Brooklyn Art Project. Publishing platforms sell the storytelling ability of the journalists they hire to craft native ads, and bypass the agency to pitch clients directly. The New York Times may be shedding older journalists, but it had hired 110 copywriters and art directors (almost one third of its ad sales department) to create native ads for brands. Agencies desperate not to offend clients have little leverage to counter this new threat.

To discuss the various threats to his agencies, Martin Sorrell leans forward on the wooden chair facing the small conference table cluttered with papers in his second-floor London office. He is not blind to these threats, and often speaks of the competition from digital and consulting and PR and publishing platforms. If anything, his constant travels and attendance at conferences and meetings with an array of frenemies make him unusually aware of potential threats to his business. Of the threat posed by platforms serving as agencies, he notes that WPP has partial ownership stakes in some of these potential competitors, including Vice. “Just think about our strategy: It’s to get the Don Draper companies—the traditional companies—to move quickly into digital. It’s to get the digital companies to go even faster,” and he cites the aggressive move to beef up the digital operations of such WPP companies as Wunderman, Ogilvy, and AKQA. He dismisses the notion that the New York Times poses an advertising threat. “I don’t worry about them. The Times should be worried, because 110 people creating native content are not going to put off the evil day, the continued decline of print.”

Bill Bernbach and David Ogilvy would be horrified by the behavior of today’s restive advertising clients. Those, of course, were simpler times. Ad agencies were once mom and pop businesses that oversaw everything, from devising the strategy to creating the ads to buying ad space. But when the founders of these agencies sold to emerging holding companies, these giants consolidated strategy and media buying under separate media agencies whose size granted leverage over the TV and media platforms who were selling ads. And as the profitability of creative agencies contracted and marketing functions expanded, holding companies purchased direct mail and public relations and polling and design and other marketing agencies. In place of a single 15 percent agency fee, each agency charged a separate fee for their services.

The media landscape changed just as fundamentally. “Back in Don Draper’s day you had three major networks,” says GE’s Beth Comstock. “You had people’s attention. People had fewer choices.” Today, she continued, “digital changes the definition of what advertising is. A well-done thirty-second spot in the right form is really very good. But luckily it’s not my only option anymore.”

Comstock’s early career did not herald that she would be an innovator. She joined NBC as publicity coordinator for NBC News in 1986, worked in publicity for CNN and CBS News, returned to NBC in 1994, and became chief of all NBC communications in 1996. GE was the parent company of NBC, and when its top communications job opened in 1998, CEO Jack Welch plucked her for the job. She made it her business to become expert on an array of subjects, from the digital upheaval to social networks and new ways of marketing. After CEO Jeff Immelt elevated her to CMO, she took it upon herself to become GE’s digital point person, constantly exploring how digital would change not just marketing but all of GE. Then as vice chair heading Business Innovations, Comstock became the company’s chief futurist, attending digital confabs, planting herself in Silicon Valley, scouting and making it her business to know cutting-edge agencies and entrepreneurs, seeking out partners for unusual ways to market. A marketing challenge for GE, enunciated at every monthly marketing meeting chaired by CMO Linda Boff, with their agencies in attendance, is to shift the brand ID of GE from an old industrial to a cool digital company. Cool digital companies are more attractive to Wall Street because they are perceived as growth stocks, and are seen as welcoming to the young engineers that shape digital companies.

A way to advance this goal was for GE to establish under the auspices of the CMO a four-person office, the Disruption Lab, directed by Sam Olstein, thirty-three, who comes to work with his hair spiked and wearing jeans and sneakers. His foremost task, he says, is to “have a good perspective of trends and technology; of where we see activity of new start-ups forming around, say, messaging, around content creation.” He says they search “for what people think is cool and interesting and primed for growth.” He scans Apple’s App Store to check on new apps that break into the top 100. Encouraged by Comstock and Boff, he pushed, he says, to make GE “a publisher, a content creator. What our brand represents is science and technology and the awe around science and technology, and that’s a very focused perspective. It’s the same focused perspective that HBO has, that Discovery channels have, that the Walt Disney Company has. We want to build a platform with the reach of any other media and entertainment platform out there.” It need not be branded like Disney, but he believes GE can create content and distribute it over its own Web site, over Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, National Geographic channels, or online publications like Slate.

As a content creator, GE formed a partnership with the National Geographic Channel “to bring to life great stories” for a six-part series called Breakthrough. It was directed by Ron Howard and shaped by Howard and his Imagine Entertainment partner, Brian Grazer. (WPP owns 10 percent of Imagine.) Each one-hour segment covered scientific topics like robotics, the brain, and energy. GE did not suffocate the drama with advertising. Instead, each hour opened by saying it was codeveloped by GE, and Boff says the episodes featured “our scientists or technologies or customers, but in an organic way.”

GE has worked hard to create an image as a “cool” company, a company welcoming to young engineers. One of their notable marketing campaigns was “What’s the Matter with Owen?” A college graduate, Owen decides to go to work for GE, to the disappointment of his friends and family, who grouse that 138-year-old GE is not an innovative company. Owen is a bit of a nerd, but he has a sense of humor. We follow his journey over the course of the marketing campaign, as he—and thus GE—becomes cool. The Owen campaign brings to mind Apple’s funny but potent “I’m a Mac” campaign a decade earlier, in which the cool Mac guy in a T-shirt makes fun of the uncool Microsoft “I’m a PC” guy in a suit and tie. GE boasts that its Owen videos were viewed fifty million times on WeChat in China.

A more offbeat marketing campaign materialized when GE stretched to try to make, in Boff’s words, “GE more relatable” to young people, especially aspiring engineers. The idea they settled on was to produce a trendy hot sauce that would be packaged in a ceramic container composed of such advanced materials as silicone carbide and a nickel-based superalloy used in making GE’s jet engines. These materials are able to withstand temperatures of 2,400 degrees Fahrenheit. Using two of the world’s hottest peppers, GE manufactured a limited supply of the hot sauce and sold and promoted it on Thrillist, a popular men’s shopping site. When it sold out, the news went viral. Message: GE is cool. GE’s Podcast Theater produced ten- to fifteen-minute science fiction stories that over eight weeks, according to Andy Goldberg, Boff’s deputy and chief creative officer, were the most downloaded “podcast on iTunes seventeen straight days, generating four million downloads.” The only advertisement was “Brought to you by GE” at the start of the podcast. At the end of the podcast, Goldberg says, “The consumer says, ‘GE gave me a great piece of content.’ They don’t say, ‘GE makes great engines.’”

For almost a century, GE has relied on the same lead ad agency, BBDO. Reflecting another change in the agency business, GE now farms their work out to a half dozen agencies and to many outside project partners, like the New York Times. Once a month, Boff chairs a meeting of all the agencies. “The belief is that you have to have different points of view in the room,” says Goldberg. “Not every agency is good at everything.” VaynerMedia, for instance, is expert at social media marketing, a reason they’re invited along with a couple dozen attendees. “I don’t know who half these people are,” Alan Cohen, a cofounder of Giant Spoon, said after one meeting. But, he adds, “The GE model is to pick people they like. So we feel like we’re employees of the company.” David Lubars, the creative director of BBDO, says he welcomes “other partners” and that “healthy paranoia” drives all agencies to better performance. Linda Boff insists that the agencies are not competitive with each other, that they collaborate because they want “to be their best selves.” Perhaps. It’s a noble sentiment. But the Buddha is not often among us, particularly in times of wrenching change, when much of what is solid melts.

But there is no question that GE’s marketing efforts are widely and justly admired. For a relatively puny annual marketing budget of $100 million, because GE has been innovative its footprint is much larger. Lou Paskalis, an experienced marketing executive who today is a senior vice president of marketing at Bank of America, praises the team culture GE and Linda Boff have forged among agencies to deliver amazing work. “Linda is so far ahead in what she is doing in content marketing. She is the gold standard of turning jet engines and trains into iconography that people love and that speaks volumes about the commitment to the environment, as well as trains and jet engines! Actually, they’re performing alchemy over there. I envy that.” The alchemy, however, has not impacted GE’s stock price, which fell 27 percent between September 7, 2001, when Jeff Immelt was anointed CEO, and June 13, 2017, when it was announced that he was stepping down.

The marketing team effort can fall short of Boff’s teamwork ideal because talented people do not easily restrain the ambition that accompanies talent. Take Gary Vaynerchuk, who admires how GE “tries different things,” yet makes it clear that the agency he founded, VaynerMedia, is competitive and will not be content just doing social network marketing. “I know we’ll get a bigger piece and one day take over the TV ads that BBDO does,” he says. More than once, Vaynerchuk, who bristles with ideas, has phoned Boff with creative ideas for TV spots.

VaynerMedia is emblematic of the type of digital-first independent agency that aims to disrupt both advertising and its big agencies. Presided over by forty-one-year-old Vaynerchuk, the eight-year-old company had revenue of $100 million, the bulk of it from Facebook marketing campaigns. He delights in sticking his fingers in the eyes of the advertising establishment. “You’re going to die,” he declared when invited to address the ANA’s Masters of Marketing Conference in October 2016. “It’s an amazing time to be in this industry if you’re on the offense. It’s the worst time if you’re on the defense, and ninety-five percent of you are on the defense.”