One time, a client CEO asked me to do a talk to her brand managers, to explain to marketing people what advertising is supposed to be about.
(Top Tip: advertising isn’t the same as marketing.)
It seemed to go down well, but at the end one of the marketing directors took me aside.
She said “We loved what you said Dave, but do you have to do all that cockney barrow-boy bit?”
I didn’t know what to say.
I think, translated, she was saying they liked what I was saying, but why did I have to put on a working-class accent?
This surprised me because I wasn’t putting on an accent.
I know I have a cockney accent, but it never occurred to me that it was a problem.
I went to college in New York where people listen to what you say, not what accent you say it in. In business in America, your accent is irrelevant.
What surprised me was that this person thought there was only one correct English accent that everyone should aspire to, and anyone not using that accent must be too lazy to speak properly, like wearing dirty clothes or not bothering to wash.
I kept quiet because I didn’t know what to say.
I grew up on a council-estate in Dagenham where everyone sounded like me.
All my relatives (31 uncles and aunts) came from Mile End and all sounded like me.
The only time I ever heard posh people speak was on the BBC: TV or radio.
It never occurred to me that people would think I was the odd-one-out for having a working-class accent, I just sound like every bus-driver, shop-assistant, or factory worker in London. I spoke the way everyone else did, why would I be ashamed of it?
It reminded me of Charles Dickens’ book, Great Expectations.
In it, the main character, Pip, is brought up by his sister’s husband, Joe Gargery.
Joe is a manual labourer, a blacksmith, he can’t read or write but he is the kindest person you can imagine.
He loves Pip and spends all his time and money bringing him up as well as he possibly can, giving him the best he can afford.
As Pip grows, he meets a very pretty girl, Estella.
He falls in love, but she is very aware that she is socially Pip’s superior and she constantly makes him feel inferior.
Pip is desperate to impress her and brings Joe to meet her guardian, Miss Havisham.
Joe is so embarrassed at his lack of education and manners that he can’t even look Miss Havisham in the eye. In fact, because he is so unsure of correct etiquette, he can only address her via Pip.
Miss Havisham and Estella are openly contemptuous of Joe and ridicule him.
Pip, instead of taking Joe’s side, is humiliated and ashamed of Joe.
Joe, in his shame at not being worthy of Pip’s new station in life, leaves London and goes back to the country so as not to be an embarrassment to Pip.
Pip is ashamed of where he came from, and that marketing director evidently expected me to be like Pip, ashamed of where I came from.
She expected me to disguise my background by changing my accent.
I often notice that in advertising, the people doing it are ashamed of where they came from and desperate to prove they are better than that.
They adopt a posh accent and do their advertising the same way.
Consequently, they don’t do advertising for ordinary people, they don’t do advertising to entertain or even talk to the people who actually buy their brands.
They don’t use common language, or common reasoning, that would be beneath them.
Which is why we have advertising done by upwardly-aspiring people who are constantly trying to impress other upwardly-aspiring people.
We have advertising done purely to win awards at Cannes where there are no ordinary people.
Advertising done by people who are pretending to be something they’re not.
Advertising desperate to impress the Esmeraldas and Miss Havishams.
Advertising that ignores the Joe Gargerys, and pretends they don’t exist.
Hello Dave, I’m researching some great TV ads and came across your JFK one for London Weekend Television. “In 1963 a missile destroyed America” I wanted to add a credit for the agency and the year. It’s outstanding. What was the agency and year?