17631: On Complaints, Crisis Management, And Conversations.

 

Advertising Age published a thoughtful perspective on cultural cluelessness, unintentionally underscoring how bias can come from the offenders and offended alike.

A complaint about your ad is information—it is not a verdict

By Stephen E. Terrell

In the fall of 1994, I put a naked man on a billboard in Fort Lauderdale. He lasted six days.

In fairness, he had already lasted 158 years. He was the young man seated by the sea in a Hippolyte Flandrin painting from 1836 that hangs in the Louvre, where to my knowledge nobody has ever called 3M about it.

The board was for Page & Associates, a Cleveland company that bought life insurance policies from people who were dying, so they could have the money while they were still alive to spend it. In 1994, that mostly meant gay men with AIDS. The copy ran five words: “Terminally ill ... there are options.” Then a phone number. No logo the size of a Buick. No starburst.

I chose the painting because my audience already knew it. For years, a print of it on a gay man’s wall was a signal flag hidden in plain sight. Any other gay man who walked into that home knew exactly what it meant. Everyone else saw a nice museum reproduction. I took the flag off the living room wall and ran it up a billboard. A man driving past did not need a headline to tell him who the board was for. The same ad had been running in gay magazines. Companies like mine were buying so much space there that Ad Age covered it that May. The billboard was that magazine ad with the volume turned up. The University of Miami Business Law Review later recorded it as the first billboard for a company in that business.

The location was not an accident, either. I put my boards in the gayest neighborhoods I could find. This one was aimed across four lanes of highway at the Copa, the biggest gay disco in South Florida. You find out where your audience dances, and you face the board that way.

It also happened to stand directly above a sports bar.

The owner complained. He told the local paper that the message was one thing but the naked man was tasteless. 3M, which owned the board, took it down six days into a 60-day contract.

Today, that is where the story ends. The brand posts a statement. The creative disappears. Somebody junior gets blamed, and everyone is at lunch by noon.

Here is what happened in 1994. The board went back up the next day. Nobody apologized. Nobody painted on a fig leaf. The company’s attorney made a call, and then a 3M representative did something radical. He sat down with the bar owner and explained what the ad was for. According to 3M’s spokesperson at the time, the owner had not fully understood it. Once he did, he agreed to have it back.

One conversation, 24 hours, same naked man.

That bar owner taught me three questions I still ask before anybody touches a campaign.

Who is complaining? The man downstairs was not my audience. My audience was across the highway, in line at the Copa.

Do they understand it? He saw a nude. He did not see men in his own city who were out of money and out of time. Somebody told him, and he changed his mind. People do that more often than a crisis plan assumes.

Is the audience you built it for complaining? Because when they are, you pull it, and you say thank you. I have done that, too. Years later I tested a Betty White radio spot on “The Rush Limbaugh Show.” It delivered 20-30 solid leads every time it aired. Then her fans started calling with one question: “Does Betty know?” I pulled it. The numbers said stay. The audience said go. The audience outranks the numbers.

Treat those two complaints the same way and you will kill your best work and keep running your worst.

Brands spend years and millions asking people to trust them. Then one stranger raises his voice and the brand drops its own work like a hot casserole. The audience notices. If you will not stand behind your ad for 24 hours, why would anyone stand behind your brand for 24 years?

The painting, for the record, is still in the Louvre. Still naked. Still up.

17630: How To Partner With Non-White Advertising Agencies.

 

Advertising Age published probable Hispanic Heritage Month content providing pointers on partnering with multicrumbtual advertising agencies.

While the perspective spotlighted common mistakes, potential pitfalls, and marketing microaggressions, there were no blatant references to cultural cluelessness, crumbs, or Prime Redlining.

So, it sorta feels like whitewashing systemic racism.

When to partner with a multicultural agency—and how to structure the work

By Sabrina Sanchez

For many agencies, creating campaigns for multicultural audiences is a challenge. Some handle it in-house, translating existing work or trying to tack on cultural relevance at the end. But agencies that specialize in multicultural work say that approach leaves little room for cultural insight to shape the strategy. Ad Age asked three members of the Ad Age Small Agency Network with Hispanic and multicultural expertise—Cien+ (CulturePlus Group), BeautifulBeast and Macías Creative—when to call in a partner, how to divide the work and how to manage the client relationship. The following guide was assembled from their answers.

Step 1: Check when the work calls for a partner

Macías Creative leaders—Marcos Macias, founder and chief creative officer; Alex Macias, managing partner and chief operations officer; and Ernesto Ruiz, executive director of strategy and accounts—identified three situations that call for cultural expertise:

If the assignment explicitly targets Hispanic or multicultural audiences

Bring in a partner while developing the strategy.

If growth depends on a market where Hispanic consumers are a major economic force

Bring in cultural expertise, even if the brief does not explicitly name that audience. Macías Creative cited markets such as California, Texas, Florida, New York and the Southwest where winning with Hispanic consumers can be critical to growth.

If cultural nuance is central to the strategy or idea

Consider a multicultural agency partner, even if the brief does not name a particular audience. Macías Creative pointed to cultural spaces involving food, family, sports, music, identity and traditions—all of which are places where deeper fluency can help shape the work.

The agency also offered signs that a team may need outside expertise:

• If research is being used as a substitute for established cultural expertise.

• If a few Hispanic people on the team are being treated as proof of Hispanic marketing capability; that capability also requires dedicated expertise, experience, tools and processes.

• If the U.S. Hispanic market is being approached as one audience, without accounting for differences in country of origin, language preference or relationship to American culture.

Another sign, Macías Creative said, is asking someone at the end of the process whether the creative “feels right.” That person “probably needed a seat at the table much earlier.”

Flor Leibaschoff, BeautifulBeast’s co-founder and CCO, said general-market agencies should not wait for a sign; they should already be working with Hispanic and multicultural agencies. To her, a plan built around translating general-market work, rather than developing a strategy for the audience, already shows the need for a different approach.

Claudia Avans of Cien+ posed a broader question: “Do we have the right perspectives at the table for this opportunity?” Cultural insight can help an agency understand a particular audience, she said, and it can reveal shifts that matter to the wider market.

Step 2: Decide whether you’re creating or adapting

How an agency approaches its creative determines when a multicultural partner needs to join and what they can contribute.

If the work needs a new strategy, platform or idea that will resonate with Hispanic audiences

Bring the partner in from the beginning while the insight and creative direction are still being developed. “If a perspective could change the strategy, give it a chance to shape the strategy,” Avans said.

If the assignment involves adapting an existing idea

For an assignment focused on adapting an existing idea for a specific audience or market, bringing in that expertise later can sometimes make sense, Macías Creative said. Even then, Macías Creative said both agencies should discuss the audience’s needs and agree on their approach at the outset. The partner should help determine whether adaptation is the right assignment.

Joining early lets a partner help shape the insight, idea and plan. Once creative is underway, their role can narrow to changing what has already been decided. “They become translators and fixers instead of strategists,” Leibaschoff said. If collaboration cannot begin at the pitch or strategy stage, she said, bringing the partner in for the brief is the minimum.

Step 3: Agree on how the agencies will work together

The next decision is what expertise the assignment needs, and how each agency will contribute.

If the assignment calls for several kinds of expertise

Avans described several ways to assemble a team: a lead agency can bring a cultural partner into the strategy phase; two agencies can build the brief together and split leadership by expertise; a partner agency can join for a few critical sessions; or different partners can lead at different stages. A cultural agency might also bring in a technology, data, creator or community partner when the work calls for it.

If the question is who works directly with the client

Leibaschoff named three arrangements she has seen work: an introduction, where the general-market agency connects the partner agency with the client and lets it work with them directly on that part of the business; white-label work, where the partner agency works behind the scenes under the lead agency’s name; or a hybrid, where the partner meets the client but the lead agency keeps the relationship. Any arrangement can work “as long as it’s agreed on from the start,” she said. Cien+ has also worked both behind the scenes and directly with clients, depending on the assignment.

Macías Creative draws a different line. It will not take an assignment where its team has no direct client contact, at least for key meetings. The agency says passing cultural insights through another team can weaken the collaboration and reduce the partner agency to an execution role. One setup Macías Creative described involves a small senior team working alongside the lead agency from the strategy stage.

Before work begins, agree on who owns the client relationship, who presents the cultural insight, who makes decisions, how feedback and approvals move, how the work is credited, and how fees and billing will work.

Those choices can lead to different arrangements. In a healthcare partnership described by Cien+, the agencies led the general and Hispanic market work respectively and shared the client relationship. On a consumer goods launch described by Macías Creative, the lead agency kept the client relationship and led strategy, creative and execution, while a senior Macías team contributed cultural insight from the strategy stage.

Step 4: Avoid the mistakes that weaken partnerships

The agencies pointed to five recurring problems:

1. Bringing in expertise too late—or giving it too little time. Once strategy and creative are set, a cultural partner has little room to shape either.

2. Leaving roles and fees unclear. Responsibilities, decisions, client contact and billing need to be settled before work begins.

3. Falling back on translation under deadline pressure. Even with a partner agency involved, a team may revert to translating general-market work, reducing that partner to a translation role.

4. Creating a one-person department. A single Hispanic employee is expected to cover strategy, creative, media and social listening. “That’s a lot of hats for one head,” Leibaschoff said, “and it’s not fair to them or to the work.”

5. Treating the partner as competition or as an execution vendor. “If you value the expertise enough to bring in a partner, give them a real seat at the table,” Macías Creative said.

Step 5: Consider what the partnership can add

Sharing work with another agency may raise concerns about revenue and the client relationship. Leibaschoff argued that the greater risk is failing to help a client pursue the opportunity: the client may eventually find someone else who will. “It’s not about splitting the pie; it’s about making the pie bigger,” she said.

Macías Creative made a similar point: work that initially looks like shared revenue may lead to additional, dedicated budget for multicultural efforts.

Avans framed the benefit in terms of what the lead agency can solve for its client: “The lead agency becomes even more valuable because of the ecosystem it can bring together.”

This story used AI-assisted tools to summarize and structure insights from Ad Age’s original reporting. It is based solely on the responses Ad Age received for this story, and was reviewed by editors and reporters to ensure accuracy, clarity and context.

17620: Converse Controversy Continued.

From Adweek…

Former CMO Rodney Rambo Had Nothing To Do With Converse’s Controversial Ad. He Still Got Death Threats.

Doxxed and mislabeled by AI answer engines, Rambo found help from the people in his network

By Christopher Cicchiello

The threats started pouring into former Converse CMO Rodney Rambo’s phone on a Friday morning.  

He had departed the company in January, and had nothing to do with the widely-condemned ad that featured Kpop star Karina in a white skirt, holding a pair of new Chuck 70 X sneakers, and lit in a way that recalled Ku Klux Klan imagery for some social media users. 

But he had seen it the night before, the day it went viral on social media. 

“You should be disgusted that this ad was ever approved,” one user wrote to Rambo on LinkedIn, in one of multiple comments seen by ADWEEK.

(Continued here.) 

17609: Converse Defender Tells Everyone To KKKalm Down.

 

Adweek published yet another perspective on the Converse lynching controversy, allowing an author to figuratively hang himself.

The color commentator closed by remarking, “I fully expect this column to incur similar wrath from the sanctimonious corners of the internet where offence is easily taken and blame must then be immediately apportioned.”

Okay. Challenge accepted.

For starters, the author seems oblivious to having assumed a stereotypical role in the matter. That is, he’s the Angry Old White Guy.

It’s a waste of time attempting to school the culturally clueless. Although it’s particularly annoying in this case, as the author boasts having a PhD in Marketing and hypes his MiniMBA programs.

He’s clearly out to educate the masses versus consider the opportunity for a teachable moment. Self-absorption always trumps self-enlightenment, self-improvement, and self-awareness.

The final proclamation underscored his ignorance: “It just requires everyone to calm down.”

Yes, calm down despite once again experiencing the lashing disrespect of an industry historically mired in systemic racism.

Calm down by being told how to respond to offensive material by a bona fide representative of the offenders.

Calm down when even the unintentionally biased avoid accountability as intentionally as card-carrying KKK members.

From Converse to Ed Sheeran, Let’s End These Tedious Apology Tours

Converse, Oxford United, and Ed Sheeran all got dragged through the same ritual for mistakes that were accidental or not even theirs

By Mark Ritson

It was a rotten week for Converse. 

On Sept. 3, the Nike-owned brand posted a new campaign on social media for the Chuck 70 X built around Karina, the very famous singer from K-pop group aespa. 

In the key image she stands in a long white skirt, wearing the shoes and holding a second pair in one hand, framed by a spotlight cut in the shape of the Converse star.

Two weeks passed.

Then, someone noticed that the edge of the star projected onto her skirt made a shape a bit like a Klan hood. And that the shoes hanging from her hand could be read as a body. Then a second image surfaced, from Converse Malaysia, of models on a ladder reaching for sneakers strung from a tree branch. 

The two pictures welded together online into a single verdict.

Converse was now running “the most racist ad of the season.” The work was “shocking,” “abhorrent,” “repugnant.” Even if it was unintentional, the fact that it had gotten past legal, marketing, and leadership was itself an unforgivable offence.

Converse apologized within a day, pulled everything and promised to do better, but not enough for Louisiana Congressman Troy Carter. 

“Lynching is not a creative concept. The Ku Klux Klan is not an aesthetic,” he raged. “This campaign should never have been created, approved or released.” Nike and Converse, he said, should explain publicly how the images had passed through their approval process.

Step back from the heat for a second. Nobody seriously thought, for even a moment, that a Korean photographer shooting a Korean pop star for the Korean market was evoking the Klan. It was an accident. And the instant the claims were made, Converse said sorry, and pulled the work. 

Which prompts a question nobody in the pile-on bothered to ask. 

What else was Converse meant to do here?

It didn’t matter, though, as a wrong had been done, and offence taken. It didn’t matter whether it accidental or not, or whether an apology had already been offered.

Penalties must apply. 

The same script ran in England last week around the same time at Oxford United, a third tier football club. The team was founded in 1893, and a new range of American college-style clothing celebrated the fact with UNITED across the shoulders and a big 93 beneath it.

The collection went live on Sept. 11.

Almost immediately, someone inside the club worked out what a United 93 shirt looks like on the 25th anniversary of 9/11. The range and the posts promoting it were gone within two hours. That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t. A week later, the club was being roasted on CNN, ESPN, and the Washington Post and had issued a full confession. The shirts “should not have reached the point of sale and we take full responsibility for not undertaking proper due diligence.” Again, nobody suggested any of this was deliberate. And again, the mistake was fixed within hours. But still an apology was required.

Then there is Ed Sheeran

On Saturday night, Sheeran delivered the most extreme entry in this new genre: an apology for something he demonstrably did not do. 

In Philadelphia, before playing a note, he stood in front of 60,000 people and said, “I am making mistakes and I’m so, so sorry.” 

He was apologizing for a rapper’s politics, a stadium owner’s ban, and a promoter’s decision, none of which were his, to an audience that just wanted to hear Shape of You. 

A man who has spent his career steering clear of every political issue going found himself in the middle of the most intractable one on earth. Through no fault of his own he found himself apologizing.

We have reached a very low point. The combination of crisis management, the fragmentation of culture and the insidious effects of social media have turned this decade into an unpleasant, sanctimonious place. Where the only option for innocent people is to eat humble pie with a double serving of reputational rescue slathered on top.

Converse set out to offend no one, and when it did, it made amends the same day. Oxford United made an awful accidental mistake and fixed it immediately, then apologised anyway. Ed Sheeran just wants to play music but must first apologize for things he did not do and does not understand. 

I fully expect this column to incur similar wrath from the sanctimonious corners of the internet where offence is easily taken and blame must then be immediately apportioned. 

Real harm, deliberately done, deserves an apology and consequences, and brands that drag their feet deserve everything they get. A mistake with no intent behind it deserves a correction. That’s all. 

“We’ve withdrawn it” is a complete sentence. It does not need “we understand.” It does not need “we’ll do better.” It just requires everyone to calm down.

17606: On Converse KKKicks.

BBC reported Converse yanked an Instagram advertisement following complaints that the image evoked KKK imagery.

At least they didn’t rename the featured shoe Chuck 70 burning cross trainer.

Converse pulls ‘deeply upsetting’ advert after backlash

By Amy Walker

American footwear brand Converse has pulled an advert that social media users said evoked Ku Klux Klan imagery, saying it recognised “that we got this wrong”.

The photo, posted to the company’s Instagram account, received backlash online after critics described lighting in the image as looking like a white pointed hood.

A pair of shoes, dangling in the picture, were also likened to an image of a lynching victim by social media users.

In an apology, first issued on Friday, Converse said the photo had been removed from its social media channels and it was working to remove it elsewhere. “This should not have happened and we will do better,” it said.

The statement also said: “We’re sorry. We understand why this image is deeply upsetting and recognize that we got this wrong”.

The photo was part of a campaign promoting its Chuck 70 X trainer, launched internationally on 27 August.

The campaign features the South Korean singer Karina, of the K-pop group Aespa, who is pictured in a series of advertisements for the shoes.

Founded in Massachusetts in the early 1900s, the popularity of Converse has skyrocketed since its Chuck Taylor sneaker was first introduced to US basketball courts in 1917.

The global brand has been a subsidiary of Nike since 2003.

17603: The Naked Truth About Sydney Sweeney’s Novig Controversy.

 

Adweek spotlighted a new Sydney Sweeney controversy, noting the actress has gone from inciting ire with her wardrobe to doing likewise with no clothing.

The latest outcry is for a campaign hyping Novig, a sports prediction market and trading app, which protestors complain is insulting female athletes.

Okay, except research indicates most people interested in services like Novig—over 70%—are young males. So, a naked Sweeney is probably perfectly appealing to the target audience.

The American Eagle advertising offended people of color, while the Novig promotion pisses off White women—a group that has historically wielded greater power and influence than minorities.

In short, this scenario might pose more damage to Novig than Sweeney delivered to American Eagle.

Bet on it.

One Year Post-American Eagle Scandal, Sydney Sweeney Sparks Ire by Going Naked for Novig

The ad has received backlash for reversing years of gains for female athletes

By Robert Klara

Last August, Sydney Sweeney broke the internet with American Eagle spots showing her in a too-tight top and struggling with the zipper of her jeans.

In her new campaign for Novig, Sweeney has solved those wardrobe problems: She’s not wearing anything at all.

“Today, we at Novig unveiled out first national brand campaign featuring Sweeney,” the sports prediction app announced on its website, “bringing to life our belief that the best sports trading experience comes from a platform singularly focused on sports.”

The campaign’s title is “Just Sports.” But judging from the heated response from the public, “Just Sex” might have been a better title. 

Though some men have expressed appreciation for the work (one calling it “better than any sports playing right now,”) women have largely responded with disappointment and anger.

The problem isn’t showing skin, per se (advertising is already full of that). But at a time when female athletes have just begun inching toward parity in pay and fame, people feel Sweeney has turned back the clock to the Playboy era.

“I can’t describe how infuriated I feel when I watch this,” Australian gold-medalist swimmer Ariane Titmus wrote on Instagram, referring to Sweeney’s ads as “a kick in the face to every woman who has dedicated her life to perfecting her craft.”

Women outside the sports realm have expressed their dismay, too.

“Every great female athlete has used her platform to create movement, challenge norms, inspire change and make an impact,” AI executive Indigo Haddington responded on Sweeney’s Instagram page. “All she’s done is get paid for what she’s known for: her body.”

It’s unlikely that Novig or Sweeney were under any illusions that this campaign was about “just sports” in a literal sense. What’s beyond dispute is that the campaign takes a page from a playbook written long ago—a legacy that Sweeney herself seems to have nodded to in her response to the backlash: a post with a series of photos showing athletes, including MMA star Ronda Rousey and football beefcake Rob Gronkowski, showing plenty of skin.

Even so, even in advertising, a revealing image is one thing; a lasciviousness message is another. In 1971, National Airlines ran ads starring their leggy flight attendants who invited businessmen to “fly me.” In the early 2000s, Axe’s notorious “Billions” ad depicted a tribe of libidinous women chasing down a man who’d just used Axe body spray.

And while evidence is mixed that sex really increases sales, a 2013 study published in the Journal of Advertising found that “males evaluate ads with sexual appeals significantly more positively than females.” And when it comes to sports betting, one recent estimate suggested that 70% of the bettors are men.

Not that there’s no upside for the 29-year-old Sweeney, who’s not just the femme fatale here; she’s a partner and equity stakeholder, too.

17602: More Amateurish Clubbing Of Callaway And Good Good Golf.

 

MediaPost published yet another perspective swinging at Callaway and Good Good Golf for their misogynistic marketing.

The author insisted the campaign “needs to be studied by anyone in the ad industry.”

Um, not really. There’s nothing new about the cultural cluelessness, circumstances, or root causes displayed by Callaway and Good Good Golf. Unfortunately, the concept and execution fortify a major stereotype about golf; ie, the game is dominated by White men.

The author’s recommendation involves four questions that should have been asked before greenlighting the concept.

Um, not really. Questions should have been asked and answered when writing the brief. And the concept should have been screened against the brief.

Contrary to the author’s contention that the scenario says something about creator campaigns, the issue is more basic.

First, experience, discipline, and mastery of craft are critical for success—it has nothing to do with the titles of anyone behind the production. In today’s arena, creator does not translate to creative director.

Second, insular and exclusive minds generate ignorant ideas. Full stop.

What The Good Good-Callaway Fallout Should Teach Brands About Creator Campaigns

By Kari O’Neill, Op-Ed Contributor

Good Good’s Callaway campaign, which features Good Good co-founder Garrett Clark running down and aggressively tackling female professional golfer Alexis Miestowski to stop her from grabbing his new Good Good-Callaway driver, needs to be studied by anyone in the ad industry.  

This is a profound example of a mistake in creative strategy. The allure of content creators is huge, but brands need to remain hyper-aware of what concepts are strategically sound for their brand. 

What Good Good said inspired the campaign. Good Good may defend the ad by saying it was a parody of the movie Obsession, where the main character buys a supernatural toy that grants him his wish to make his crush fall in love with him — to the point of unsettling horror. Good Good probably stood up in front of executives and claimed that’s how good the driver is — that the audience would be obsessed with it.   

Unfortunately, the response has been the exact opposite, with many calling out its use of domestic violence against women for entertainment. Amidst the backlash, even Clark admitted, it was “a super dumb ad concept, terrible ad in general. Not the greatest idea.”  

Here’s what Callaway needed to ask Good Good before green-lighting the concept.   

Is this pop culture reference relevant for the brand?  

One clear blindspot for Good Good was likely assuming what is popular in its own social circles may not be relevant to Callaway’s audience. Asking if Obsession was in the movie zeitgeist or something the masses would relate to should have been the primary question posed of the concept. Would the ad still resonate if the audience didn’t know about Obsession? Given that Obsession was released in May 2026 nationally and in the summer, a key risk is easily seen that the ad’s reference back to the movie likely would not be top of mind. 
 
Does this reinforce or add to a brand’s story?  

Additionally, a parody can be extremely effective, but only if translated conceptually well from the original creative into an exciting, authentic brand story. In Good Good’s concept, would the target audience see themselves in the story of the parody? Do most people see themselves in a horror film? Probably not. That, in and of itself, should have killed the concept. 
 
Is this the right feeling for the brand?  

Is this ominous feeling the right one Callaway wants people to walk away with after being introduced to this new driver? While the sound design itself clearly is inspired by horror films, it’s clear that the music alludes to harm while being played over an image of a woman being tackled to the ground. Don’t let an internally-focused haze mask the inappropriateness of the concept.  

Who has the power in the story?  

Even if this driver is targeted only to a male audience (which it probably isn’t, but let’s pretend), why did the person tackled have to be a woman? Strategically, what’s the advantage in that versus a man? The answer: absolutely nothing and worse. The hovering over her body while threatening her takes it even further from the corner of potentially funny to utterly unacceptable. 

Because cancel culture is always a risk in the world of creators and brands, brands need to be aware of power dynamics, whether its gender, race, or sexual orientation, among many others.   

The fallout certainly is not what anyone intended or wanted. According to Front Office Sports, three people, including Good Good’s vice president of brand marketing, Jeffrey Lefkovits have been fired. Good Good has lost its sponsorships from Callaway, its PGA Tour event title sponsorship, and its Golf Channel show, Big Break x Good Good.   

Dick’s Sporting Goods and Golf Galaxy also pulled Good Good merch off shelves. This is a critical lesson for all brands to take a step back and ensure the right questions are being asked of a creator’s concept. Not enough questioning strategically could be the difference between an exciting launch and a brand nightmare.

17593: On Zapping Callaway And Good Good Golf.

Adweek published more seemingly self-promotional schadenfreude from the Chief Marketing Officer of Zappi, who threw her sanctimonious soapbox at Callaway and Good Good Golf for their misogynistic marketing.

The author made one semi-insightful point: “The problem is that the infrastructure hasn’t kept up. Brands are producing more content, across more platforms, with more partners, for more audiences. The old model of heavily researching a few major campaigns wasn’t built for hundreds of smaller decisions.”

This is followed by shameless self-promotion, as the CMO presents Zappi AI services as capable of screening content quickly and efficiently.

There are key flaws in the proposal.

First, the old model never heavily researched a few major campaigns—at least not through a culturally competent lens. Indeed, work was evaluated with an exclusive, predominately White perspective.

Second, AI has already been called out for its cultural cluelessness. The real problem in this area involves technology and algorithms created with an exclusive, predominately White perspective.

Third, the root problem—which Adland has absolutely failed to address for at least 75 years—is the global DEIBA+ issue. That is, White advertising agencies—and companies like Zappi—perpetuate an exclusive, predominately White perspective.

The problem is that the infrastructure is built on systemic racism.

Callaway and Good Good’s Ad Was So Bad, Even AI Audiences Sounded the Alarm

Callaway and Good Good are arguing about approval, but should be arguing about why no process existed to flag the video before it aired

By Nataly Kelly

You know the clip by now. Good Good co-founder Garrett Clark shoves fellow creator Alexis Miestowski to the ground as she reaches for his new Callaway driver. He stands over her and tells her not to touch it.

The ad is gone. So is the partnership. 

Retailers pulled Good Good merchandise, the company withdrew as title sponsor of a PGA Tour event, while Callaway pledged $1 million to organizations working to prevent violence against women in an effort to wash away the controversy. 

And the entire public argument is about approval. Callaway CEO Chip Brewer says the video was produced by Good Good but signed off by Callaway, and that “that approval should have never happened.” 

On Friday morning, Good Good CEO Matt Kendrick broke an 11-year Twitter silence at 3:38 a.m. to accuse Callaway of asking for the ad, approving it, then dropping his company in a “coordinated media blitz.” Asked whether he’d sue, he replied: “Not opposed.”

Both men are addressing the wrong questions. It’s not about who approved the ad; it’s how nobody and no process stopped it before it went live, when the tools to catch the warning signs cost less than the driver they’re selling. 

The story is much bigger than just one terrible ad

We’ve entered a dynamic where brands and creators need each other. Brands need creators to reach communities they can’t, while creators need to monetize their audiences.

That relationship comes with risk, as brands put decades or centuries of hard-earned equity into the hands of culturally nimble third parties, and ask them to translate it for new audiences. That’s inherently risky. It’s also increasingly necessary.

Creators aren’t the problem. The problem is that the infrastructure hasn’t kept up. Brands are producing more content, across more platforms, with more partners, for more audiences. The old model of heavily researching a few major campaigns wasn’t built for hundreds of smaller decisions.

An ad so bad even AI frowned upon it

The frustrating thing about the Good Good ad is that the warning signs weren’t particularly difficult to find. We tested the ad after it was pulled, first with U.S. consumers. It performed significantly below advertising norms on appeal, likelihood to drive behavior, brand fit, relevance, believability, and attention.

More telling was the reaction underneath those scores. Nearly one-third said there was something offensive, unpleasant, or disturbing about the ad. Shock was eight times higher than our norm. 

But let’s assume the Good Good and Callaway teams involved didn’t have the time, resources, or know-how to commission a traditional market research study for one piece of creator content. Fair enough. They at least could have tested the ad with AI.

So that’s what we did at Zappi. We ran the creative past 150 AI synthetic respondents trained on real consumer response data. We had answers back in just minutes. The ad received the lowest possible score (1/5) and even synthetic respondents could spot the warning signs about the content of the ad. Its recommendation, in hindsight, is almost unbearable to read: “Soften or clarify the physical moment so it reads as playful rather than awkward.”

Testing with humans allows you to feel the fire and know exactly how hot it was. But AI was a smoke detector that, if it had only been in place, would have told people to look more closely before the brand equity went down in flames.

Now, to be very clear, AI should never be the cultural arbiter deciding what’s acceptable, but when content moves faster than the infrastructure legacy brands have at their disposal, it can be an incredibly helpful early warning system that tells a human when something deserves a second look. 

What brand leaders should take from this

Who’s at fault here? Everybody involved. Who can learn from it? Marketers. Agencies. All of us.

Creator partnerships and the creator economy aren’t going away. Neither is the pressure to produce more content, faster, for increasingly fragmented audiences.

Brands need creators, and creators need brands. Both need better guardrails, frankly, to cover their own (brand) asse(t)s. 

For brands, those guardrails protect hard-earned equity. For creators, they protect the livelihood and audience they’ve spent years building. The lesson isn’t to slow creator marketing down until it resembles traditional advertising. It’s to build processes capable of moving just as fast as the media they’re meant to govern. And in this not-so-new reality, what the Callaway scandal makes clear is that AI already has an important role to play, but that many brands remain behind the curve.