Why Every Great Campaign Starts with a Bad PowerPoint
Somewhere under the harsh glow of a conference room projector in Grey Lynn, a junior account manager nervously clicks to slide five of a truly dire PowerPoint. It’s 17:10, everyone’s hungry, and the creative director is quietly seething. Welcome to the birthplace of big ideas.
Here’s the thing: bad decks are the petri dishes of brilliance. You start with jargon and bullet points that could put an insomniac to sleep. “Disruptive synergy.” “Next-gen engagement architecture.” What does that even mean? No one knows, because that’s not the point. The point is, this sludge forces conversation. It sparks rebellion. Someone pipes up with, "This is awful, what if we just..." and now you’re off. A single moment of clarity tumbles out like a lemon pip that ruins a perfect Pav. That’s where the gold is.
The best campaign I’ve seen all year? Came from a presentation that looked like it was slapped together in Microsoft Paint. But somewhere in the mess was a kernel of weird truth—it hit a nerve about how people in New Zealand actually use their phones in the bathroom. Oddly specific, wildly relatable, completely uncomfortably true. That relatability got it greenlit.
So yes, next time you’re stuck in a never-ending WIP with slides that feel like punishment, lean in. Complain, critique, throw out every third slide. Because under that mound of mediocrity is usually the seed of something worth chasing. Just start flipping the slides faster.
Here’s the thing: bad decks are the petri dishes of brilliance. You start with jargon and bullet points that could put an insomniac to sleep. “Disruptive synergy.” “Next-gen engagement architecture.” What does that even mean? No one knows, because that’s not the point. The point is, this sludge forces conversation. It sparks rebellion. Someone pipes up with, "This is awful, what if we just..." and now you’re off. A single moment of clarity tumbles out like a lemon pip that ruins a perfect Pav. That’s where the gold is.
The best campaign I’ve seen all year? Came from a presentation that looked like it was slapped together in Microsoft Paint. But somewhere in the mess was a kernel of weird truth—it hit a nerve about how people in New Zealand actually use their phones in the bathroom. Oddly specific, wildly relatable, completely uncomfortably true. That relatability got it greenlit.
So yes, next time you’re stuck in a never-ending WIP with slides that feel like punishment, lean in. Complain, critique, throw out every third slide. Because under that mound of mediocrity is usually the seed of something worth chasing. Just start flipping the slides faster.