From a roving AdNews reporter back in 1978 to the current day AdNews publisher, as we bid Jeremy Light farewell, he recalls some unusual quotes from the booming ad industry in the 1980s.
“We work bloody hard here. We start around 7am so we can finish the day’s work by lunchtime. That way we can enjoy lunch and not go back to the office. We do that every day of the week.”
The year was 1980 and I was a young journo sent out to do a story on Mojo, the hot new agency that couldn’t stop winning pitches. The words came from the MD Don Morris, brother of Mo, who delivered them with pride, for the record.
I was impressed. As far as I could tell, the aim in those days was to finish your week’s work by lunchtime Friday and indulge in an endless lunch. But every day of the week? And announce it to the press for their clients to read? A touch arrogant, you might say.
I started working at AdNews in 1978. Now I’m retiring, and reflecting on how the industry used to be.
Sorry if I sound like a dinosaur, but I know I’m not alone in believing the 80s was the golden era of Australian advertising. Creativity became top priority, risks were embraced, and the money flowed.
Agencies received 10% commission from the media and charged their clients a 7.5% service fee, raking in a minimum of 17.5% of media billings.
Some agencies, like The Campaign Palace, believed they were better than the rest, so they charged a much larger service fee. Because they could.
The ad campaigns of the 1980s broke new ground in a whole variety of ways. Agencies leading the charge like The Palace, Mojo and John Singleton’s agency SPASM, couldn’t have been more different in style and output. But it was all new and exciting.
So why was there this explosion of creativity? It can’t have been just because there was more money around. It was more likely part of a broader cultural shift in the post-Whitlam era when the arts became more mainstream and people and organisations became more self-assured. In the middle of this, Australian advertising was finally recognised and applauded on the world stage.
“I’d like to sing the menu.”
The best event on the advertising calendar was the Caxton Awards weekend, when the creative elite gathered to impress each other and get hammered in an exotic location. The inaugural talent quest at the awards dinner in Alice Springs in 1979 was won by Fysh Rutherford, who sang the menu. For an encore he sang the wine label.
Jack Vaughan won the talent quest some years later by drawing a map of the world on a whiteboard in less than 60 seconds. As an encore he did it blindfolded and it was still remarkably accurate.
“The world is divided into two groups of people – people who believe the world is divided into two groups of people, and people who don’t.”
The two groups joke became a running gag one year, culminating in: “The world is divided into two groups of people – those who don’t want Jenny Bing to take her clothes off, and Jenny Bing.”
Sexism was rife throughout the industry, and attitudes towards women were thoughtless at best. I’m embarrassed to say that when we published a survey of advertising people in 1979 we called it The Adman Profile. And our annual awards were the Agency Man of the Year, Marketing Man of the Year and Media Man of the Year. We changed them the next year.
The media had a great time in the 80s. Television and newspapers took the lion’s share of ad revenue. Magazines and radio did very nicely too. How else could marketers reach their customers?
The choices were incredibly limited. Apart from outdoor and cinema there was only the phone and direct mail. Or personal representation (knocking on doors). Directories such as the Yellow Pages or Trading Post were the 20th century search engines.
Advertisers had no choice but to keep spending in the media, and the main media were all-powerful. The Media Council of Australia set the rules for the Media Accreditation Authority, which in turn decided which agencies the media would accept bookings from.
“We cut them off at the knees.”
This quote from the boss of a regional TV station in the early 80s, who was proud of the fact that they had thwarted the establishment of a George Patterson office in their city.
The station wanted to keep dealing direct with the local advertisers, so they undercut Patts on air time and production until the agency left town.
“We are the largest because more clients choose to work with us, so we must be the best, and we must buy media better than anyone else because we have the most clout. You’d be foolish to go anywhere else, Mr Client.”
In the big smoke, George Patterson kept on growing because it was so big. This approach worked well until creativity became a major issue.
Because of its size, Patts dominated, but Clemenger eventually finished on top and Patts couldn’t handle being number two. Peter Clemenger was the smartest adman around, despite claiming not to know why his agency was successful. He always made sure the agency had the right mix of business and creative.
“Jeremy, people try to write stories like that about me, but they never get published.”
In the ‘80s I received a call from a journalist who was writing about property deals in the Coffs Harbour region. He said the name Harold Mitchell kept cropping up, and could I give him some background. I told him about Harold’s media buying business and wished him luck with the story.
I mentioned this to Harold some years later at a function and said I didn’t know whether the article was ever published.
Harold’s response is above. It’s not really relevant to this article but it’s a favourite of mine and I’ve finally got the chance to use it.
Happy Days.
Jeremy Light