We use metaphors when what we have to explain may not be obvious. Given the complex nature of software, metaphors are used regularly. Every time you jump on your computer you are looking at different metaphors which come in the form of the icon. If you click on a folder icon, it’s not taking you to a folder; it’s taking you to a set of information. The folder icon is a metaphor for the organization of your documents. It is both a graphic element and a tool of information architecture used for better understanding. But, there is a problem sneaking up on us. Most of our metaphors are based in analog.

Many things no longer need to look like what they do. A television used to need a giant tube, which dictated its size and shape. Over time it got flatter. And then a lot flatter. Now a television has become a slim black box with a screen. Telephones have had a similar evolution. Once they were large devices that had a distinct look that was dictated by its analog nature. Now they’ve changed.

The convergence of devices on your average smart phone breaks metaphors like never before. It’s a phone, but looks nothing like the phones we grew up with. It’s a camera, but looks nothing like the cameras we grew up with. It runs applications, but looks nothing like the computer you grew up with. Given the newer technologies in development, your phone will soon become your wallet too. And for all it does, what does it look like? A slim black box with a screen. With this evolution we have lost inherit visual cues that analog gave us. This effects how we communicate in the digital space.

We are comfortable with using icons as a base metaphor for information on Web sites and operating systems. Look at the Windows OS. Your information and documents are subdivided into folders. But, if you look at how documents are increasingly digital, at one point you realize the metaphor of a folder may no longer be a logical reference.

If there are no paper documents, then there is no need for folders to place them in. At some point in the future, this will happen. With smart phones and digital readers, it may not be as far off as you think. The folder metaphor as we now know it will become an antiquated reference to how we used to do things.

The number of cell phone subscriptions will hit 5 billion this year. I would also argue the average icon used to represent a phone is outdated. If you do a Google search on phone icons you will see an overwhelmingly large number of images that have little to do with your average phone experience.

Holding on to these analog references makes little sense. Sometimes it’s the language that doesn’t add up. Tapes and VCRs have a rewind button, but so does you’re DVD player and DVR. It was called rewind because you were physically winding tape back to the first reel. The term fast forward is still relevant, but we should ditch rewind and call it fast back. Other analog references are less innocuous.

The accepted QWERTY keyboard layout is rooted in analog. It’s been arguably shown that other keyboard layouts are more efficient. But with the invention of the keyboard, they wanted to create something that was familiar and easy for those using mechanical typewriters. Now we’re stuck with it.

I am certainly not being nostalgic. I don’t want to be stuck with the old. I don’t want to cater to analog. I say good riddance, but it forces new questions to be asked. Abstraction is the removal of details. Digital has hastened the abstraction of these objects we create for ourselves. Fundamentally, it becomes a communication challenge. I see it as an opportunity for new language and new metaphors, but digital metaphors.

If we could only be like the weatherman. Making predictions about the future, talking about the chance of something happening, and never being held accountable for being inaccurate. Ruin someone’s outing because you failed to predict rain? No big deal, the weather gets blamed, not the person who told you what it was going to do. We cut the weatherman slack because he can’t nail down all the factors involved. If he could, we’d have a legitimate reason not to like him when our supposed-to-be blue skies are gray. Too bad a programmer’s ballpark estimate doesn’t get the same leniency. An application build is just not one of those things that is easy to predict.

With programming, an accurate estimate is created from a list of what the software is supposed to do. Usually, even the most custom application is still going to be composed mostly of things that an experienced programmer has done before. If a programmer has 10 specifications, they will break each item down by the time it takes to do them and add them all up to reveal the cost. Then there are the “X” factors, or the things we are asked to do that either have never been done before, or are so unusual that it’s going to take a little extra effort to figure them out. The best course of action is to relate the task to a similar activity and go from there.

Accurate estimates are made from realistic expectations. Not surprisingly, the ballpark figure is the mother of all false expectations. A ballpark figure is a generalized price range that you give to clients to help them understand if a project is within their budget. True, you can’t sell something without a price. But a ballpark figure is always a bad idea because you are taking something that is mostly not subjective and making it entirely subjective. Now everyone is guessing what they can and can’t get for a price. When things go bad and profit margins erode, you can usually trace it back to false expectations set by a ballpark figure. So how do you fix it?

The first step is using an interaction designer. This is integral to the process of an accurate estimate. The interaction designer communicates with account, creative and the programmers to understand what the software is supposed to do. Next, the interaction designer will document a flow of how the application should work by producing a series of pictures. That way, no one will be left interpreting a Word document, which most people don’t read anyway.

Now you have a visual document that sets expectations for the designers, programmers, account, project management and the client. These are your documented specifications. Now the programmer has as much information as everyone else and can better gauge how long it will take to produce.

At this point, you can circle back to the client and say, “This is what you asked for and this is what it costs. Anything else is extra.” You can start small and build up from there, but the important thing is that you only ever estimate on known specifications.

When you generalize, programmers have to guess at specifications and sometimes don’t factor them all in because, quite simply, they aren’t mind readers. Under the most ideal circumstances, it can be tricky to nail down exactly how long something takes to produce. If you don’t provide all the details, however, your programmers should be held no more accountable for inaccurate predictions than your local weatherman.

Ever watch the television show House? Each week, Dr. House solves the latest medical mystery though an obscure idea that seems to approach him from anywhere or anyone. The “a-ha” moment that reveals itself does nothing more than point the way. It takes the doctor’s creative genius to recognize the idea when he sees it. And it takes his experience to make the idea a reality and actually solve the problem. Understanding the value of an idea is the first part of good creative direction. The second part is having the know-how to make it a reality. We are surrounded by ideas all the time. Recognizing value in a single thought floating in a sea of ideas takes not only creative intelligence, but experience.

Benjamin Franklin said, “At twenty years of age, the will reigns; at thirty, the wit; and at forty, the judgment.” As a young designer, I came about good ideas by spawning hundreds of bad ideas. I would push myself like I was at the gym. Just 4 more ideas, just 3 more ideas, 2 more, okay last ooonnne. Done.  Now in my thirties, I feel like good ideas happen more quickly. By comparison, they are certainly more clever. The difference is, I now see ideas through the scope of my experiences.

We see a lot of good ideas with poor execution on the internet. Actually, some studies have shown that people watching YouTube are turned off by high production value. I don’t know. Maybe free content needs to look like it’s free. I always ask, “could it be better?” How would you improve it? How could you make it more meaningful? In looking back at my blog, it’s no big surprise to me why some entries do better than others. It’s not only the quality of the idea, but the quality of the execution that counts.

Crowd sourcing uses submissions from an online community to solve a particular problem. This is probably the most literal interpretation of how a good idea comes from anywhere. The Pepsi Refresh project is one of the most popular expressions of crowd sourcing. This project not only outsources the generation of the idea, but the judgment of the idea too, through online voting. I feel like crowd sourcing is an interesting way to generate ideas. I am always willing to listen to anyone, but it’s the judgment aspect that I have trouble with. In the end, I feel like average judgment equals average success.

A lot of CEOs make unpopular decisions, only to become wildly successful. Sure, they could have done what everyone expected them to do. And that would have sufficed. But recognizing the value of a good idea, even when everyone else doesn’t, is a hard road to follow. You’re stamped with a lot of nasty labels until you prove your detractors wrong. The flip side is that, sometimes, unpopular decisions are just bad decisions. But that’s what makes it interesting.

Everyone has the right to their own opinions and ideas. In a professional setting, they have the right to express those ideas, or at least should be able to express them without fear of reprisal. But who makes the final call? There always seems to be some confusion surrounding opinions.

In the mind of a creative professional, there is a real separation between professional creative evaluation and personal opinion. Having an opinion does not qualify your average person for anything more than having an opinion. A creative director’s opinion reflects years of training. Sometimes it’s based on intuition, other times it’s easier to explain. They push to understand both failures and successes. This becomes the basis of a trained professional’s decision. A personal opinion is about what you like; a professional opinion is about what an audience will like. Sometimes it’s the same, other times it isn’t.

Creative evaluation does not come from having an idea or two. It’s about having thousands of ideas, and executing hundreds of them over years. A creative professional at an advanced level knows how to prioritize, evaluate and judge what is better. The process of raising an idea can sometimes be anything but lucid. It’s tricky to know when you’ve arrived at the right solution, but experience teaches you judgment. And that judgment is what gives meaning to an idea.

From an earlier post you may be familiar with this story, but I didn’t fully disclose how bad the circumstances were. My team was about halfway through a small phase of a large project that had a solid estimate in place. Out of the blue, account service started freaking out. At a status meeting we were being called out for causing the project to run over budget. We shouldn’t have been anywhere close. After some investigation it was learned sales and account service adjusted our estimate without telling us. Only because they had the audacity to point fingers did we find out. The sad thing is it was just one of many times the estimate was adjusted. Later on we discovered our agency had billed around $600,000 for over $1,000,000 of work. The girl that made the mistake of calling us out was let go. Her boss who actually made the adjustment remains employed.

What happens to a client that gets free work? They expect free work. One of the first rules of negotiating is to never give something up without getting something in return. The client asked and we gave. We took nothing in return and so that’s what we ended up with. After that agency tried to fix the error of their ways and enforce some level of profitability, the client pulled the project and handed it off to their internal IT team. I am sure that turned out to be a rude awakening for the client, but for that agency, it was long drawn out process that cost $400,000 and made enemies out of its coworkers.

A salesperson’s job is to show value. If they can’t do that one thing, I don’t know what purpose they serve. Stroll into any automotive showroom and a salesperson will start walking you through the features of the car you’re interested in. It’s preemptive price justification. Infomercials do a good job at this as well. Regardless if the customer is paying just $19.95 or an affordable $19,500.00, there is healthy amount of value statements and enthusiasm built into the pitch.

I respect good salesmen. They take the time to understand the work they are selling. They know the product inside and out. They understand exactly how it will benefit their clients and how to go about communicating that. Certainly, they know a pitch has to be informative and entertaining. It’s the art of showing value.

When salesmen are bad it sometimes comes from laziness, but other times it is gullibility or the lack of a backbone. I have had enough client interaction to know how they can push. You learn anything not in writing doesn’t exist. If you’ve been in business long enough, client requests go something like this. If you do this for me now, I will give you more work later. Or, this project will get you great exposure. Well, the promise of exposure is not worth a check in the bank. The promise for more work later on is fine if they want to sign a contract. If they don’t put it in writing, we call that a lie despite it being intentional or not.

I can think of a client I also knew personally. I used to do software development for him. No matter what he was doing, he was negotiating price. Always looking for an angle on how to get something for free, didn’t matter if it was fundamentally unethical. The way he saw it, if you could exploit the system, there was a problem with the system. He was just being smart. He may not have been honest all the time, but he certainly wasn’t breaking any laws.

So yes, clients push to get the best prices for products and services, big surprise. Sometimes they cross a line. Sometimes they don’t. Like any relationships, they might just keep pushing to see how far they can take it. If you don’t know how to effectively stand your ground, you’ll get bullied. There are a lot of industries that wrestle with this.

Advertising agencies are often asked to develop ideas first to see if clients want to buy. Could there be a worse way to do business? Your agency spends weeks on a pitch competing against four or more other agencies. The company you’re doing work for reviews all the pitches to select one agency that gets paid. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in resources are just wasted if you don’t get the win. It’s just another way giving away free work can be financially devastating.

We all do things at times without direct compensation. We invest thousands at college in hopes of landing a job that is more financially fit than flipping burgers. Maybe it’s a personal relationship that has you doing favors for someone who will return them at a later date. Too often in business though, someone tries to confuse indirect compensation with what they are really offering, which is nothing.

If you have a set bill rate and there is a set amount of time the work will take, accepting anything less is just giving it away. When offered less money, offer less work. If the sales team has a problem, you need to put your foot down. The client has a problem? Now, it’s a negotiation. Once forced to accept a concession, call it out and get something in return. Regardless of the situation never sell your work for free.

I will leave you with a video that sums up the experience well:

The designer is a visual problem solver. Programmers are engineers. Account service and sales focus on clients. But, we all focus on business. We have to keep our ears open to really listen to what other groups are saying to understand the different angles. I am not talking about the details of how we work, but ideas about what we doing and why. They are not the territory of any one group nor should they be.

Ideas have a life of their own. Ownership of an idea is like the relationship parents have with their children. You first conceive the idea. Next, you give it some time to let it grow and develop. You are the sole owner at this point, because you haven’t shared the idea with anyone. The day comes though when you have to let an idea stand on its own. You give it over to other people who push and pull it in different directions. They will form and influence the idea just as you have. As the originator you can be proud, but the idea doesn’t belong to just you anymore. Remember, the moment you speak about an idea is the moment you no longer own it.

I am strong believer in teamwork. A team is strongest when everyone plays their positions, but focuses on assisting each other. It can be a very positive and rewarding experience. My college design teacher liked to use the word synergy. Synergy happens when a group of people feed off each other’s input to create something that is better than any one person could have made. Conversations with true synergy are a thing of beauty. It’s how we jump from good to great. But, it’s not without its difficulties.

Opening yourself up to a creative dialog can be a bit like walking into a punch. It can really sting when people start jabbing at your work. But, if you leave your ego at the door, you can get through it. I’ve always tried to emotionally distance myself just a bit when I get into these situations. No one is attacking me, not usually anyway. I have had many successes in my career and I am not looking for validation, I am looking to improve my work. I accept what people say, valid or not. I try to listen to what they are getting at, even if they’re not communicating it very well. Some people mean well and say bad things. Other people just say bad things.

I spoke to manager once who told me that you want some level of competition between employees. I suppose that makes sense if the competition is healthy. The reality of it can be a cold smack in the face. I have seen just about every bad intention pursued.

There are the defenders of the status quo. Usually, their background has no training in creativity or problem solving. The head of the pack throws out a thought and everyone nods their heads in agreement. It’s silly. No creative dialog, just egos and assholes looking to be top dog. For them it’s not about leadership, it about control.

Sometimes you have ideas pissed on because someone just wants to mark their territory. They didn’t add anything relevant, didn’t make the work better, and in most cases watered it down with a full bladder to claim some level of ownership. And that’s what they do when they like the work.

If you are in a position where you can offer feedback, be careful. I was in a situation once where a business team put together a baffling presentation that accompanied a Web design I created. So I offered constructive criticism. In response, I received a demeaning e-mail letting me know I didn’t understand the first thing about presentations and they called out my design as “graphics” for their proposal. Having worked on dozens of proposals, I can say the response wasn’t valid. Criticism is not a personal attack, but when you are dealing with people who don’t understand creative dialog, they will fire back like angry children.

If we have an opinion that isn’t demeaning to other people and is purely intended to improve the work, we should take the time to articulate our thoughts and assert them. It does take some level of personal honestly. Are you criticizing the work because you don’t like the person who is came up with the idea? Do you not like how much attention other people are getting? I could go on and on about the wrong reasons to criticize. Personal egos can infuse dialogs with spiteful pettiness. Maybe, you are dealing with people who just don’t understand. Management should step in and help educate them. And if management doesn’t get it either, you’ve got quite a bit of work cut out for you.

We are in a people business. What happens if you don’t make an effort to respectfully listen? People won’t like you. And when we start to make enemies of our coworkers, it’s the work that suffers. They have their jobs, I have mine. I always ask people what they think, but I never tell them what to do.  I expect nothing less in return. We are educated professionals who have to trust one another. A creative dialog isn’t about forcing another person’s hand or dragging them down. It’s about opening yourself up to better possibilities, better work, and honest relationships.

From the time we are little kids, we live in a world of no. No dessert until you finish your vegetables. No, you didn’t clean your room. There’s a lot of big frustration around such a little word. We all want to run around and do what we want. As children, the first part of being punished for misbehaving starts with your parents yelling the word no. It takes our heads out of the clouds and puts our feet back on the ground.

As adults, no gets internalized. We don’t kick and scream when we hear it, although that would be funny to see a board room full of executives “expressing” themselves. Under the calm veneer of professionalism, we are all emotional animals that get mad when we don’t get what we want. That’s not to say we are all boiling under an icy exterior, but telling someone no has real consequences.

No comes from the head, but goes straight to the heart. A programmer rationalizes why something can’t happen because of logically based perceptions. These opinions are not formed out of malice or petty dominance, but far too often are treated like they are.

Before you whip out the big N-O, remember it’s an emotionally charged and potentially damaging word. People are scared to hear it. In the world of business, you will be judged for using that word and the negativity will come right back at you. People will make up all kinds of reasons why you told them no without diving in to deeper issues. It can be a little ridiculous, but it’s the world we live in and we need to adapt.

There are ways to disagree without saying no.  And before you call me out on being manipulative, I am not advocating any level of political doublespeak and clever misdirection. Not because it doesn’t work, but because programmers are smarter than that and we don’t need to lie. So you take no out of your vocabulary, but what happens when you find yourself in a no situation?

The two situations I normally encounter are when requests are literally impossible to achieve and the other is when they makes no business sense whatsoever. Programmers are problem solvers. So use your talents and think about what can happen and what does make sense. Focus on the reasons why something won’t work and develop a solution that fixes those problems.

A common situation is being given an unrealistic deadline. So instead of saying no, tell them about what you can accomplish in that timeframe. Figure out how to stage multiple releases and let the client know that you will concentrate on getting the core functionality right. This helps the team focus on what’s important. If you come up with a better solution, everyone wins.

It’s an educational process that involves the programmers, account service, and the clients. Don’t be mad at them for not knowing. You have to educate them about what reasonable possibilities are and they will educate you about what their problems are. When you fully understand the problem, you should have the confidence to offer up an alternative if what they are asking for doesn’t make sense. And remember, you’re employment depends on your company’s ability to sell something. I would rather be coding than playing salesman, but a good team has to help each other out.

Sometimes a dumb request can be a smart one with a little work. And sometimes despite everyone’s best effort, our clients won’t be persuaded at all. Even if you fail, the best part is you learn what will and won’t work. In time you find ways to shelf the word no in favor of a conversation, at least that’s what works for me.

I love the responses I get from my posts. What I would like to do this week is for those of us out there who have had success in dealing with these situations to post how they handled themselves to help others who might be struggling. After a week, I will take my favorite top three and repost to the main blog as guest entries. Thanks!

This guy liked the intellectually lazy, brute force approach. Don’t think. Just start coding now and get it done. Copy and Paste are now your two best friends. Well, mankind did build the pyramids with Stone Age technology. So I suppose there’s a lot you can accomplish with brute force, but I prefer to use my brain.

Writing software is a very creative discipline that requires a lot of abstract thinking about organization and performance. There are thousands of ways an application could be engineered. It first involves thoughtful planning at the beginning before a single line of code is ever considered.

Writing beautiful code is not just some nerdy game programmers engage in to see who can sit atop nerd mountain with their 4x scepter of insight. It’s about pure design that solves a problem. And there’s a real benefit to business. Beautiful code saves money. Beautiful code makes money. Ugly code gets work done quicker, but it’s like winning the battle, and losing the war. In time, bugs pop up and clients make changes that are impossible to accommodate. Sounds like time for an analogy.

Web sites and applications have a lot in common with cars; they both have a purpose and a personality. Just as we judge a car as being good or bad for a multitude of reasons, we can draw our analogy from these similar evaluations.

A car is designed around the driver, but for many it’s what’s under the hood that counts. Engines can be a mystery though. Sure, people get the basics, but it takes a mechanic to be able to take it apart and put it back together and an engineer to create one from scratch.

When we run a piece of software we look at obvious performance issues. Does it run? How often does it break? Most people you work with will get it up to this point. And from what I have seen, they only care about it up to this point. But, what about real performance?

In the automotive world, performance is well marketed to consumers. They take a certain feature, give it a name, and tell the consumer to want it. Traction control, dual overhead cams, and fuel injection are sold to the public regardless if they have a clue about what it means. The car nerds understand dual overhead cams makes for a more powerful engine. The general public just knows it goes faster.

Beautiful code is high performance. And everyone wants that because it’s faster. Google markets their speed. Type in any topic and you will see at the top of each page a list of how many things were returned and how fast you got them. It’s really impressive when you stop to consider how much data is being sorted to return relevant information. It doesn’t matter if you are writing code or building an engine, you can’t get good performance from a lack of engineering. Speed is good, but maintenance is even more import.

Cars are expensive to maintain and so is software. A study conducted by Human Factors International found that 80% of software life-cycle costs occur during the maintenance phase. Okay, cars aren’t as expensive to maintain as software, but you get the point. Well written software is designed to be updated, changed, bitch-slapped or whatever. It should take it like a man. There are real financial consequences when code takes a long time to update. It can even cancel a project. What I have noticed over the years is regardless of what I am told; I always end up having to go back into something to make edits. As important as this is, there is one more reason why the quality matters.

If an engine is well built, you can put it in several other cars. Good reusable code works the same way. If it’s done well, it can be placed in many applications. There is a business law that states the cost of products and services go down over time. It’s called the experience curve. Businesses find cheaper and quicker ways of getting the work done. When a cheaper way to do business is found, a company charges less to increase volume, or operates with higher profit margins. Either way competitors are adversely affected. Beautiful code can become that competitive advantage to manage the curve.

It’s all about money. It usually is. Ugly code may look like the practical choice. It’s an easy solution when you become defined by deadlines. Some programmers work that way, but surviving isn’t thriving. For businesses to grow and stay competitive they have to have a culture that prizes beautiful code.

Code is invisible to everyone but the programmer. It’s like the magic that takes place behind the curtain. Any team has to just trust a programmer about what is and what isn’t doable. The best course of action, estimates, and progress updates are all subject to the programmer’s opinion. There’s plenty of Type A personalities that have trouble with this, but it goes deeper.

First issues arise when a client decides what they want and when they need it by. Sales people want to sell. Telling the client they have unreal expectations doesn’t close sales. And holy shit, is that a recipe for disaster. I have seen account service cut estimates in half and move money around to accommodate their sale and their commission. At the end of the day it looks like the programmers are screwing up. They do it because it’s easy to blame the programmers.

They don’t teach office politics in school. They should, but that’s a different story all together. A programmer has to be quietly focused doing mental gymnastics to produce clean working code. It’s difficult and takes all your energy. There’s no time to run around to see whose throwing you under the bus. The games account service plays have consequences.

At a previous agency I worked at, I saw a 7 figure project go down in flames. Who caused the problem? Was it the group of industry leading programmers who worked 70 plus hour weeks to accommodate the client’s arbitrary schedule or was it the account service people who agreed to everything the client asked.

I don’t want to say programmers never cause issues. If you have ever seen the TV show Seconds From Disaster, catastrophic problems arise from a mix of people not doing their jobs. But, I did see the programmers doing their work. Not sure what everyone else was doing.

So what did the agency think? They laid off (fired) every one of those programmers. All the account service however, still works there. After that demoralizing death march, no one wanted to be there anyway.

The programmer’s path to hell is paved with the word yes. In order to police their own world they have to be vigilant about what is feasible. Being analytical, they usually put a lot of effort into an estimate. From what I have seen, it’s usually more effort than most put forth because they’re adept at thinking through multiple scenarios. Unfortunately, I have seen good estimates ignored or challenged. The more realistic they are, the more it is scrutinized from some reason.

It’s tough going back to the client with a set of realistic expectations. It makes closing far more difficult. You run the risk of someone else agreeing to the work (who will fail). But the programmer’s job isn’t any less difficult. Actually, they are the one group of people who are capable of understanding all of it. They know the code and they know the business problem. They may not be good at managing clients, but they certainly can understand what’s going on.

Trust your programmers. They are not only engineers and craftsmen, but businessmen as well. They will know from experience what happens to client relationships when someone makes promises no one can keep.

So yep, Apple has set up an ecosystem that allows them to maximize their profits by controlling the media, development, and the advertising that is displayed on their devices. A lot of people say why not. They are doing what’s in their best interest. I happen to think that strategy is flawed. And I know, I am just some dork with a blog and Apple is great and all powerful. But, here’s what I have trouble with.

Do you want a Web enabled device that allows a free market to decide what gets put on it? Or do you want Steve Jobs telling you what you can and can’t do. I promise you, we will see more of these policy changes arise as new threats to Apple’s bottom line arise. Their new mantra is, if it doesn’t make us money were blocking it. Doesn’t matter if it’s something better than what they have or if consumers want it.

The consumers lose. People who are accustomed to Flash no longer get content they were looking for. Now with advertising, most people would rather not see any, but really they just don’t want to see bad advertising. Effective advertising is good advertising and Google is effective. So now Apple users can expect a lot of lame advertising on their devices.

User focused design is catching on. That was Apple’s competitive advantage. If consumers can get a device that is just  as easy to use and doesn’t have all these restrictions, that’s what they will gravitate to. The market will balance them out and all they will be left with is their iron grip.

Has this level of dictatorship ever prospered on the Web? In policing their devices they are going cut off their users from everyone else. I like the iPhone, but it’s not special anymore and Android phones are just as if not more capable.

I won’t be goose stepping out to get the next iAnything. This Nazi level of control is a bad thing for the Web and ultimately will be bad for Apple.

I went to college to learn how to be a good artist and designer, so that’s all I focused on. I deeply appreciate good design and I love to create things. The goal was to be a professional artist, although I had trouble nailing down an exact direction.

After working at a failing dot-com, I somehow landed at an advertising agency doing both design and development. I had a lot of ideas about design and what it meant, but I quickly found out how much I didn’t know about business and marketing, let alone advertising.

I taught myself how to write code, so I figured why not get some books on marketing and learn about this other world I was then a part of. All along, I was surrounded by smart people doing interesting work, so it was easy to absorb.

I kept learning by reading book after book. I wasn’t producing any traditional advertising, but the culture, the creative process, and my creative director made each day a lesson. I learned about branding, psychographics, and of course the big idea. To the initiated, the big idea is the guiding concept that becomes the hub of all strategies and tactical executions. Most importantly advertising teaches you how to create a story that people will listen to.

Any good communication is a story. It doesn’t matter if you are talking to friends, giving a presentation, or creating a 30 second spot on TV. It’s all about story telling. Dan Roam, the author of The Back of the Napkin, talks about how the best story wins. This means that when you are in a competitive situation, the person who can tell the better story will do more to engage and persuade an audience than the other guy. It’s not a new idea by any means, but it’s very well stated.

The old Coke commercial with Mean Joe Green, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lc0izCGKxP8, is a prefect example of advertising story telling at its best. It’s the story of opposites having something in common. Joe Green is a mean large black man. The kid is an innocent small white boy. Yet, these two have a common interest and they make a connection. Coke wants to appeal to everyone and that story delivers the message is a way a room full of marketing executives could never imagine. It’s genius.

The day to day business of advertising when it’s good is about having a creative dialog with intelligent people who will synergistically build an idea that creates deep meaning in the mind of a consumer. It’s rewarding when you have something that not only solves a business need, but is artistically brilliant. And it’s exhilarating when your work is nationally recognized. Showing up to work in shorts and sandals to talk about possibilities and ideas on top of getting paid a great salary is a dream job. But, there’s a dark side to it.

There are the prima donnas. These people are the worst. Everything in the world exists to do nothing more than reaffirm their greatness. Then you have the award grubbing creative directors. These people reject advertising work before clients can respond to it base on the fact that it won’t win an ADDY. Doesn’t matter if the work is what the client wanted, dead on target for the consumer, and solves a business problem. Bad management is rampant too. Temperamental and untrained, many people who run the show have no idea how to treat another human being let alone manage a team. The worst of it is the number of hours you work including weekends and holidays. They all lie to their employees about how a work life balance is important. 10PM Friday night meetings, 6:30AM calls to London on Sunday, and 60-75 hour work weeks were my reality.

I sometimes complain about advertising and the people who live in that world, but I really have learned so much from them. I understand what they do and I actually watch commercials if they are done well. Their culture of ideas is wrought with highs and lows. You have to be emotionally tough. I will always appreciate how difficult the job is. Hopefully, I have learned how to tell a good story.