Essay 4157

Here’s a delayed overreaction to the Bart Cleveland vs. Hadji Williams online spectacle that played out at Advertising Age’s Small Agency Diary (see Essays 4124, 4097, 4091 and 4076).

As always, this is not intended to attack individuals; rather, it’s an examination of ideas, attitudes and behaviors.

For today’s exercise, we’ll dissect the final post from Cleveland to Williams, as it spotlights key issues that repeatedly erupt with the topic of diversity in advertising. The post read as follows:

Hadji,
I doubt anyone of consequence disagrees with your assessment that the industry needs improvement in the area of diversity. Your contention is that our problems are intentional, I contend they are not. My response about you looking to your book as a possible cause for your frustration was not intended as a backhanded shot. I know when I’ve had disappointments in my career I have found solutions looking to my own efforts. I can see that we don’t share that ailment, so ignore the advice and please don’t be offended by it. I agree with you that the industry can and should improve and would be better for it. I don’t agree with your opinion of why it is where it is. Let’s leave it at that. I hope you will not have to wait until the day you die to see an improvement. Best of luck to you. —Bart Cleveland, Albuquerque, NM

Cleveland recognizes our corporate arena has troubles by reflecting, “I doubt anyone of consequence disagrees with your assessment that the industry needs improvement in the area of diversity.” Yet there is no indication that the author has ever proactively addressed the matter. Indeed, it’s highly likely that he’ll never do anything substantial. Why? Because that would entail hard work. In the past year, at least two other trade publication columnists publicly vowed to champion change: Marc Brownstein at Advertising Age’s Small Agency Diary and Tim Arnold at Adweek. To date, we’ve seen little evidence of their success (sincere regrets if the duo spawned achievements worthy of a salute). Solutions don’t come easy in this area, as professional, political and legal hurdles abound. Anyone who has sought to launch something as seemingly simple as an in-house minority internship program will attest to the difficulties. Instead, people deflect real discussion and revolution by spewing statements like, “Your contention is that our problems are intentional, I contend they are not.”

It should be noted the face-off began when Cleveland gushed over Miami Ad School and Williams argued the need to look beyond the usual suspects when recruiting. Cleveland sought to steer the conversation in a different direction by questioning Williams’ talent and credentials. Gee whiz, was anyone paying attention when New York City’s Commission on Human Rights confronted Madison Avenue last year? In that scenario, everyone—including agency honchos—confessed there are serious diversity shortcomings. And minority leaders with way more experience than Williams insisted the problems are intentional. Hey, if you spend around 40 years consistently failing to live up to your promises, folks are inclined to conclude the inaction is deliberate. It would certainly help for Cleveland to elaborate on his contentions. But again, that would entail hard work. It’s far less strenuous to critique Williams’ portfolio—which incidentally, has absolutely zero relevance to the discourse.

(On a side note, it will be fascinating to learn if Madison Avenue agencies have satisfied the mandates of their diversity pacts.)

“My response about you looking to your book as a possible cause for your frustration was not intended as a backhanded shot. I know when I’ve had disappointments in my career I have found solutions looking to my own efforts. I can see that we don’t share that ailment, so ignore the advice and please don’t be offended by it.” Um, apology accepted? Let’s take the high road and presume the original comments weren’t designed to be a backhanded shot. However, Cleveland’s lame explanation and subtlety-free arrogance make for a poor defense. Just saying.

Cleveland typed, “I agree with you that the industry can and should improve and would be better for it. I don’t agree with your opinion of why it is where it is. Let’s leave it at that.” In stereotypical adman fashion, Cleveland cuts the conversation, ultimately preventing any deep and meaningful exchange. Plus, subsequent editorials by Cleveland covered the clichéd notions of long-term planning and embracing mistakes. Heaven forbid he might draft a diversity plan or even propose mistake-riddled suggestions to reduce exclusivity.

(On another side note, Marc Brownstein recently pondered the complexities of hiring friends—wow, he’s clearly making progress!)

Honestly, this essay’s mission is not to condemn Cleveland, Brownstein, Arnold and the rest. They are probably upstanding citizens and community darlings. This is about probing the ideas, attitudes and behaviors exhibited by so many Madison Avenue denizens.

It’s high time to engage in earnest introspection and contemplation. Why do the town hall meetings on diversity scarcely scratch the surface—then speedily sail away from the eye of the storm? Why can’t the beautiful minds in our marketing Mecca devise a basic strategy for advancement? How can we execute calculated and measurable tactics to fix the dilemmas? Hell, why does an industry famous for courting controversy and inciting response cower over the prospect of cultural evolution?

The post closed by proclaiming, “I hope you will not have to wait until the day you die to see an improvement. Best of luck to you.” Well, if Clevelandish-Brownsteinesque-Arnoldy characters continue to represent the advertising collective, you can pen the line into Williams’ eulogy right now. Let’s leave it at that.