Nick Cage running from an exploding building

Why I’m calling it quits after 30 years of marketing copywriting

Well, I’m doing it. After nearly 32 years in marketing and copywriting, I am moving on.

It’s a strange feeling, leaving a job I’ve done for so long.

Interestingly, I don’t think I will miss it.

You may be wondering: How did I get to this place where, at the ripe old age of 53, I am not only willing to start over, but eager to turn the page?

I suppose the fuse was lit on my first day as an associate copywriter — really, a proofreader — way back in 1991.

The phrase “death by a thousand paper cuts” comes to mind.

And Hemingway: “It happened slowly, then all of a sudden.”

Let’s talk about the “all of a sudden”

My last straw came this past May when a prospective client asked me what I would say to convince his marketing leadership not to use ChatGPT instead of hiring a copywriter.

That was the moment I knew it was over.


For decades, we copywriters and other creatives have been forced to justify our value, and often, our very existence, to oblivious clients and employers. And now we have to compete with machines?

Sure enough, today there are dozens of AI programs built to write copy (with specific programs for writing emails, blogs, SEO copy, and more), design logos, create graphic designs, generate images, code web pages, compose music, make movies, and so much more.

As “thought leaders” on Twitter and LinkedIn post sagely and prolifically about how today’s creatives can harness the power of AI to help us do our jobs better, tomorrow’s AI programs are coming to put us out of work.

But as I say, the onrushing ubiquity of AI was merely my last straw. The truth is, I’ve been contemplating getting out for months.

Why I’ve been thinking of quitting marketing and copywriting

If you hadn’t noticed, wokeism is destroying the industry. From the avalanche of forced diversity to the endless push of trans propaganda, advertising now seems more obsessed with shaping and subverting the culture than it ever was about selling products and services.

(Read this blog post if you want to know who is behind this skullduggery.)

Again, this has been coming for some time. As far back as 2018, rumors swirled within the marketing department where I worked that copywriters may be asked to use plural “they/them” pronouns instead of writing the grammatically correct he/him and she/her in singular situations.

I remember thinking at the time that if this was where the job was heading, I was going to have to get out.

Five years later, 20 percent of 18- to 34-year-olds now identify as LGBTQ and I am just no longer interested in trying to relate to today’s modern audiences.

Below: A post I made to the Cranky Facebook page in April.

Is this what Gen Z looks like? Fuck that, I'm not wasting my time writing for them

All of which is to say nothing of the elephant in the room . . .

Today’s advertising sucks like an Electrolux

You know it. I know it. Turn on the TV or reach into your mailbox. You’ll be assaulted by the dumbest, stupidest, most idiotic and excremental “work” the advertising industry has ever produced.

There’s a reason why Bob Garfield quit his column reviewing TV commercials after 25 years of valiant attempts to bring sense and sanity to the field. I myself wrote precisely 33 ad reviews before deciding it was depressing and not worth the effort.

It won’t get better. People in advertising have been ignorant about their craft for years. Today, I wonder if there are even a handful of narcissistic, award-seeking cool kids in the industry who give a damn about the lessons legendary ad masters David Ogilvy, Leo Burnett, or Bill Bernbach can teach them.

A trip down memory lane

The other night while lying in bed, a carousel of memories played across the movie screen of my mind.

Earlier in the day, I had ended my obligation with my next-to-last-remaining client, and the finality of my decision began to feel surreally real.

To my complete lack of surprise, it wasn’t the good times that I remembered.

It was the paper cuts. Some large, some small, some drawing more blood than others. Together, they painted a crime scene to rival an episode of Forensic Files.

Some standout examples:

There was the time, early in my career, when my employer and our award-winning creative department (newly bought out by a huge, publicly-traded corporate hellscape) were forced to set aside our in-house work to slap together a 1,000-page industrial supplies catalog for the Mexican market. To be printed in black and white with no photos (only line drawings) on tissue-thin paper, the copy was all in Spanish so we couldn’t even read the damn thing.

Of course, anyone who breathed a word of complaint was branded a nattering nabob of negativity.

Then there was the time I joined a marketing department as the only copywriter and discovered that 9 out of 10 printed pieces contained multiple typos. Even my own work wound up desecrated by embarrassing errors, as the many “marketing managers” insisted on making copy changes themselves without allowing me a chance to review.

When I politely suggested creating a proofreading process to improve the quality of our output, the director called a meeting so the entire team could shoot me down. “We don’t have time to proofread,” was their unified and nonsensical excuse.

(Lather, rinse, and repeat for creative briefs.)

Some months later at the same job, this director called another meeting to pound home the point that “we don’t want your best” — her exact words — again, ostensibly, due to a lack of time.

In what had now become a recurring pattern in my career as a copywriter, I sensed that this meeting, despite including everyone in the department, was set up very purposefully to communicate its message to a single, specific person: me.

There was the time, years later and at a different job, when I stuck my neck out to challenge incorrect grammar forced on copywriters by the Compliance department that, frankly, would have ruined an entire campaign and made us all look like morons.

I vividly remember addressing the issue with our division’s VP of marketing, a vainglorious woman with brightly colored eye shadow applied in bold streaks that extended far out from the corners of her eyes, and her dismissive response:

“You know, I think if I showed this to my mother and asked her, she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

Are you kidding me?

And yet, always in these situations, somehow, I was the asshole.

There was the time I was forced to accept a promotion from senior copywriter to creative supervisor even though I didn’t want the job and had turned it down twice already.

“We’re not asking you this time,” said the VP.

And so I accepted it, a powerless position that took me away from my core competencies and the work I really wanted to do.

I struggled. I wasn’t good at it. And when the time came to stand up for my team of copywriters and designers — for example, by pushing back against insane workloads and unrealistic deadlines that were stressing people out and killing morale — our department manager (who was new, and a con artist, and who we all suspected was doing drugs) called me out angrily for “being negative.”

For me, that was always one of the worst parts of working in marketing — people’s refusal to acknowledge that conflict is an important and necessary part of a healthy workplace. Too often, people who dared to go against the grain were branded as “negative” even when honest debate and constructive criticism were needed. (And now you know another reason why I named this blog The Cranky Creative.)

Happy ending to the story above: eventually, one of our copywriters made an impassioned plea to the marketing director, and “Perky Percocet” (as we unaffectionately called her) got her charlatan ass fired.

Or, how about the time when my interim marketing director (a lifer at a public university) asked me to rewrite an entire series of lead-generation emails because the enrollment manager didn’t like them? (Basically, she wanted me to neuter the emails of copywriting best practices. For example: “Stop with the postscripts,” she said. “This isn’t elementary school.”)

Once again, an interdepartmental meeting was called for my benefit, and the usual pile-on ensued.

“Is this really the hill you want to die on?” my marketing director asked me. But I would have the last laugh. I was already in the final stages of securing a new job and I served her with my (impeccably well-written) resignation letter the next morning.

Then there was the time at the direct mail agency when I pitched a new client two concepts that would position the company as a friendly and helpful resource unlike anything else in that industry.

What did the client choose instead?

Two bullshit concepts from another copywriter based on trickery and deception, designed to prey on the ignorance of the mailing’s most gullible recipients. One was disguised as an invoice that was due to be paid.

Yes, the client loved those. My marketing and account managers loved those. The copywriter who pitched those ideas sounded incredibly self-satisfied for having pulled these tired tropes from his bag of dirty marketing tricks.

Ladies and gentlemen in marketing, this is why people hate us.

In my career, I have been criticized for being “particular,” “a perfectionist,” and — most astounding to me — “thoughtful and conscientious . . . to a fault.” (This last actually appeared on one of my performance reviews.)

Most recently, as a full-time freelancer, I’ve been ghosted by clients and done work for which I have not been paid. I’ve applied for new gigs and full-time positions, but the silence from hiring managers has been deafening.

Have you seen the About Us page of the average marketing agency today? Very often, you’ll have a hard time finding anyone over the age of 30. In this industry, ageism is alive and well and I think it’s finally caught up to me.

But hey, it hasn’t been all bad

Truly, I have a lot to be thankful for. I started my first copywriting job at a great company filled with smart and fun people. We did award-winning work that was the envy of our industry, and the lessons I learned from my talented colleagues built the foundation for my career and all the work I have ever done.

Over the years, I made lasting friendships with some of the best people and greatest role models anyone could hope to meet.

I did work I was proud of and got results for my employers.

I started my own business — an exciting and fulfilling adventure.

I grew into a different person, a better person.

I learned from my mistakes.

Being a marketing copywriter for the past 30 years hasn’t been easy, and much of the time, it was really damn hard. But all things considered, I had a good run.

Now it’s time to move on.

See all Cranky ad reviews | Go to blog home page


What do you think, creatives? Is now a good time to get out of marketing and advertising? Or am I just a big crybaby? Share your thoughts below.

27 comments

  1. CC, you have a great deal of imagination and brilliant skill in language. I’ve enjoyed this blog for several years now and been entertained and enlightened by your wisdom and courage. I know all of these talents will be beneficial for you in the future and wish you well in all your ongoing efforts.

    I wish something could be done to rid the market of awful advertising, but too many companies are casting blame for their failures on others instead of reflecting on their actions (like Anheuser Busch), thus putting out more and more crap. Wendy’s current series of ‘humorous’ ads have become particularly bothersome in my opinion, but all of the pharmaceutical ads are also atrocious, showing that the industry has lost its imagination and gotten rid of the true professionals. Reminds me of Swamp Castle from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “the strongest castle in these isles” because its standing on the remains of three others, but is still very vulnerable to other elemental factors.

  2. Congratulations CC! I wish you all the best. I have enjoyed your blog for quite a few years. Your voice has been one of the saner examples of what not just advertising, but what the soul and spirit of America has been for most of its existence. Now, it seems, all is eroding.

    My husband and I are both retirees after working for many years, myself in education and he in communications. We share your opinion of the sad state of indoctrination/bullying vs education/cooperation which permeates all aspects of American life now. We are children of the 50s, growing up at a time when, though not perfect, life was sane. We can’t imagine what working in today’s business and education environments must be like. I pity younger people that must endure it. They have no concept of what true freedom looks and feels like.

    Once again, congratulations. I know you will succeed in whichever direction you decide to take next. All our best CC!

    1. Thank you so much, Cynthia! Yes, we live in strange times. I never thought I would feel particularly grateful to have come of age in the 1990s, but looking back, that was a pretty good deal. Here in 2023, the future looks dystopic with all the talk about AI, digital IDs, social credit scores, transhumanism and 15-minute cities. I thank my lucky stars that there is still time for someone like me to make a career change like the one I’m making now. Not long from now, I fear the music will stop and many, many people are going to find that there just aren’t any chairs (jobs) for them to sit their asses in.

  3. Sounds like you’re making the right decision. Onward & upward! I’ve only been following you for maybe 18 months but have really enjoyed hearing there are many other people out there who feel the same way as I do about all this WOKE crap being shoved down our throats. “Wokeism & the avalanche of forced diversity to the endless push of trans propaganda.” Couldn’t have said it better myself! I hope the Cranky Creative will still be around as the helpful common-sense voice of reason. Enjoy your new endeavors!

    1. Thanks, Thorman. Yeah, I think the blog will be sticking around. I sense seismic changes coming to the advertising industry, if not a collapse. I would like to be here when it happens, because the schadenfreude will be delicious!

  4. You were NOT a bad creative manager. We just had the world’s worst marketing manager and director. Man, those were the days. Glad to have suffered through them with you. Can’t wait to hear about your new adventures.

    1. Kind of you to say, Melissa, but I really was not up to the task. Thank goodness we had a good team of copywriters and graphic designers (and production people!) who knew how to pull together.

      Oh, and ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the copywriter who made that impassioned plea to our marketing director. Along with Ryan, Melissa is another one of the few creatives I have known with the courage to speak her mind.

      Thanks for writing, Melissa!

  5. You’ve done your part to make marketing better. Go on and make something else better. I’ve moved on to corporate communications, and I don’t miss marketing much.
    Where I work, the marketing team is in tatters, a shadow of what it once was. You’re right—executives don’t see the value of great copywriters teamed up with great designers. It all decays without their support until, finally, it actually has no value—and then the execs point their finger and exclaim they were right all along!
    This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.

    1. This comment really hits home, Ryan. But then, you always were one of the few creatives I ever knew who had the courage to say it like it was. That’s a trait I greatly admire.

      This reticence on the part of people in creative positions to push back on their problems — or, more specifically, the people causing their problems — is precisely why so many creatives and creative departments meet their ends just as you say — with a whimper.

      We suffer in the conditions we tolerate, to mangle a phrase.

      Thank you for taking the time to comment and show once again that you understand what many other creatives are either too timid or too browbeaten to admit.

      Oh, and I’m glad you got out, too.

  6. You’ve had a great run Rob, wishing you all the best in whatever comes next! Always better to leave the party early….

    1. Mike! How long has it been? Thank you, man. Those are true words you said about leaving the party early. It does feel like the time is right. Thanks again for taking the time to write. I hope all is well with you!

  7. I always enjoy reading your posts and only most recently subscribed. You are one of the few “voices of reason” in the marketing field. I could use expertise like yours! I sent you a LinkedIn connection request and hope that you’ll reconsider. There are plenty of companies like mine that could really use your help.

  8. My only question is: what took you so long? Just kidding my friend. I don’t blame you at all. As someone who spent 45 years in the ad business, take it from me, there’s very little I miss about it now that I’m retired. As a crusader for trying to create good advertising that achieves the right goals, you will be missed. Best of luck as you begin a new chapter in your life. And enjoy a less stressful, frustrating and thankless profession.

    1. Thank you, Mike. I am indeed looking forward to a less stressful, frustrating, and thankless profession. I hope it’s out there. Marketing is the only profession I have ever really known — I’m very interested to see what the outside world looks like!

  9. For us, we will always remember the annoying, godawful, obnoxious, and overplayed Liberty Mutual TV commercials as the downfall and the worst of American advertising and marketing! You will be greatly missed…Good Luck in your future! Gary

    1. Oh Gary, your endless and unwavering hatred for Liberty Mutual TV commercials has brought a smile to my face more than once, and today is no exception. But not to worry, old friend. I’m not quitting the blog. I still have some bones to pick with brands, ad agencies, and the industry as a whole. I expect you’ll hear more from me, though maybe a bit sporadically as I adapt to my new life outside the asylum.

      Good to hear from you!

    2. Well said, Gary. What’s worse is that every time Liberty Mutual comes up with something so awful that it seems to be as low as they can possibly go, some idiot in their marketing department just grabs a stronger tool and keeps digging.

      After wet teddy bears, I couldn’t imagine them coming up with anything worse, and then they began their “nostalgia” campaign. “Research shows that people remember ads with …” followed by a scene that would be embarrassing as a kindergarten play. Despite all of them that I can recall claiming some level of being unforgettable, I can’t really remember many of them at all, except for those few that plagiarized much better ads.

  10. No, Dagne Taggart, you’re not a cry baby… your integrity has kept you in the machine long enough — it’s all going to hell, let it go.

    I got out years ago because I couldn’t stand the phony boloney nonsense that surrounded me, especially in high-tech MarComm. Now I edit non-fiction manuscripts. I cannot even stomach watching all the ad crap on TV these days, let alone be a part of creating it.

    I hope this doesn’t mean your blog is going away, because we need it. There was no mention of what you plan to do next. Don’t disappear, we still crave your critical perspective… even if you have found John Galt.

    1. Thanks, Kinchan. I’ve always admired you, and believe me, I’ve thought of you often as I’ve prepared my own escape.

      I think what’s disappointed me the most in my five years of blogging here at The Cranky Creative is how few real, working creatives seem to engage or have much to say. I hear from tons of people — consumers and TV viewers, regular folks — who are fed up with ads and TV commercials. But the creatives who do the work? They are mostly silent. I’d prefer to think they have Stockholm syndrome rather than believe they could be that aloof or they are simply unable to smell what they are shoveling. In any case, it’s sad. I started this blog because, in my darkest days as a copywriter, I would have loved to have found the comfort, community, and helpful tips and advice available here. C’est la vie.

      You’ll be happy to know I’m planning to keep the blog going for the foreseeable future. Whether to voice my own opinions or to give voice to others who don’t have one, it will be my way of staying in the fight for now.

      So don’t go anywhere! And thanks for writing. It’s always good to hear from you.

  11. Good luck to you! I’m only a couple of years older than you & I’ve noticed the dumbing down. Sad.

  12. Great post. I personally feel that most advertising has shit the bed entirely and is stooping to whole new lows. I’m not in advertising but I often wondered to myself how such absolutely moronic trash (ie AAA, liberty mutual, Geico) would be brought forth in an ideas meeting. Where these companies would actually dole out sums of money for absolutely nonsensical shit. Utter stupidity which is not only incohesive but avoids any relation at all between a product or service and the spot.
    It’s a sign of the times. Unfortunately the fake ass diversity is complete bullshit. And God forbid a woman’s hygiene products spot doesn’t show us a giant black ass or have crass over the top symbolism.
    We’re now actively becoming paste eaters and the ad industry is reflective of that. It sucks because when you have 500 channels and every time you change the channel you start a new round of commercials. Making me usually use the mute button or get up and leave.
    Unfortunately I think ai is here to stay and everyone is going to be unemployed in advertising because it’s going to be so easy to produce commercials and text that it won’t make sense to pay for it. Tragic.

    1. “We’re now actively becoming paste eaters.” Ha! It sure seems that way, doesn’t it? You make great points. I, for one, would love to see a comedy sketch about advertising creatives sitting around a board room and coming up with just the most insanely idiotic ideas ever. Because you know damn well that that’s exactly what it looks like at a lot of these agencies.

      Wet teddy bears, anyone? Motaur? Please, someone give these asshats the enthusiastic mocking they deserve.

      As for AI, maybe it will be a good thing for advertising. I’ve said it for years: this industry needs an enema. Maybe once machines are in charge of making the ads, we’ll see work that’s made to increase sales rather than indulge creatives’ egos or win awards.

      Bah! Who am I kidding. The clients are just as guilty. If the top marketing brass at today’s brands are so incompetent that they can be duped into paying huge sums of money for brain farts like Lil’ Sweet and LiMu Emu & Doug, then maybe the best thing for them is to spend some time alongside Bud Light’s former VP of marketing reflecting on their choices in the unemployment line.

      Thanks for writing.

  13. I understand. Although I never felt like I did anything noteworthy, I got off the ledge and went back inside the window I left open, everything looked different!
    PS: “Kasparov Syndrome” has been identified.

    1. You’re right, Max. Sometimes our big gambits don’t turn out as we had planned. But that’s all part of the fun, yes? So long as we find our way in the end.

      It sounds like you have. I hope so!

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