Damn. I’m about to commit the cardinal sin. I just can’t help it…
Damn. I’m about to commit the cardinal sin. I just can’t help it. My feed is flooded with noise from Cannes Lions International Festival of Creativity. I know I shouldn’t cast any stones but screw it, here goes. Let’s talk about advertising.
So we’re coming to the end of Cannes Lions week, the annual migration of adland’s elite to the Croisette, where creativity is toasted, trophies are handed out like hors d’oeuvres, and everyone pretends this still matters.
Sir John Hegarty one of the great wise men, offered a quiet provocation: “Creativity is losing its value.” And there’s no better place to witness that slow erosion than this sun-drenched, self-congratulatory jamboree, where the industry gathers to admire itself with unwavering enthusiasm.
Let’s be clear: if you’re in Cannes, it’s marvellous. It flatters your ego and does wonders for your social capital. The sun’s out, the rosé’s chilled, and the affirmations flow like endless Aperol Spritz at the PMW 100 Powerlist bash. If you’re not there? You suppress your FOMO, scroll LinkedIn resentfully, and mutter that “it’s not what it used to be.”
Yes, the work can be brilliant. But brilliant for whom? The algorithms don’t care about your Lion. Nor does the audience become obsessed with the reality of TikTok trends and ridiculous celebrity deepfakes shared on WhatsApp. We talk about “purpose,” “storytelling,” and “cultural impact” but rarely do we ask who’s really listening.
Advertising used to make news. God knows we made agencies and campaigns famous. The fees were decent, and the ambition was through the roof. Now, only mawkish sentimental Christmas retail campaigns edge into public conversation. No one outside ADWEEK or Campaign discusses a world quietly being replaced by AI-generated briefs awarded by virtue-signalling procurement departments and rubber-stamped by zombie bean counters.
Those who win awards at Cannes feel vindicated. Those who don’t, mutter into their tins of M&S premixed Negronis, home alone. But the deeper issue isn’t who wins, it’s who notices. The industry applauds itself louder each year, while the public scrolls past, numb to the pageantry. We’re broadcasting to ourselves, using a frequency the outside world stopped tuning into long ago.
Because that’s what Cannes is now: a beautifully choreographed bubble. Adland and PR-world as performance art. The world outside the Palais is chaotic, mistrustful, and fractured. People are looking for clarity, not campaigns. Meaning, not meta. Less razzle, more relevance. Creativity was once how we helped people see the world. Now, it’s too often how we avoid it.
So by all means, celebrate your moment. Dance on the yacht. Raise your Lion to the Mediterranean sun. But don’t confuse industry noise with public resonance. We don’t need louder parties. We need a clearer purpose.
Go for the gong, by all means. But if you want to matter, really matter, be brave enough to start making news in the real world again.