The tragic flaw in the design firm model.

In ad agencies, where once upon a time copywriter was conceptual king, the domain of language is still valued, and is firmly under the copywriters’ control. Some visual people will attempt to influence the copy, and that is a healthy thing. But the writer still gets the final say.
Design firms are another story. Recognizing that any generalization about design firms is going to be gross and riddled with exceptions, I will make this one: Design firms tend to play fast and loose and badly with language. Language is devalued, thus diminishing the value of the work produced by design firms.
Here’s my theory about how this happens.
Most design firms are staffed with designers and the like, and not so much with copywriters. Either copy is provided by a freelance copywriter, or, if the firm is large enough, maybe there is a writer on staff. But there is seldom if ever a person in power who is equipped or inclined to advocate passionately for the language. This arrangement invites the insidiously subtle, systematic denigration of language. So we have a problem. Three problems, in fact.


The problem with using freelance copywriters.

A freelance copywriter will not fight the good fight. He is cast in an order taker role, so, while he may make a case for using this piece of language rather than that, he will not be falling on any swords for it. He is being paid to provide copy, not grief. A contentious freelancer gathers no work.


The problem with using the staff copywriter.

A staff copywriter at a design firm is a defenseless orphan. He will quickly learn to do only what is necessary, copy-wise. And he will learn that, when the designer changes “one little word” in the headline so that it breaks more cleanly, there is no court of appeals. If he raises the issue, he is being “difficult” and blowing the issue out of proportion. In the long term, therefore, the better copywriters will not populate design firms because of their place in the pecking order. So staff copywriters are B or C players, delivering pedestrian copy, perpetuating the design firm habit of being okay with, and accustomed to, pedestrian copy.


The problem with not using a copywriter.
Clearly, seeing copywriters as second class citizens and sources of necessary-evil clutter is problematic. But there is a more insidious cancer at work in these environments, and no one seems to want to acknowledge it.
The designer is often put in a position to act as de facto copywriter. Budgetary and time constraints provide an easy excuse not to bring a copywriter into many projects, particularly if the project doesn’t involve long copy, but merely some copy. Not everybody can design, but, hey, everybody can write to some extent.
As a result, many designers become passable copywriters. But only passable. And that is where the insidiousness creeps in. For the designer, once he has learned that he can construct a coherent sentence or a paragraph or even a headline, and can come up with bad puns with the best of them, and worse, finds that no one seems to object to the quality of the writing, he becomes more confident and comfortable in this role.
For the design firm, this becomes a very cost-effective solution. No need to pay a freelancer. The copy just shows up on the page, more or less free. It may not be riveting copy, but, again, no one objects, so it must be okay.
Some designers recognize, deep down somewhere, that the piece they’ve just created isn’t as good as it should be, because the language, and often the concept itself, is unremarkable, pedestrian, the same old blah blah. But it sure looks shiny and new. And the client loves it because they haven’t learned to expect exceptional copy, just “good enough” copy. The only criteria the copy must meet have to do with being clear and grammatically correct. The same criteria you would apply to an instruction manual.
If you are never exposed to design that sparkles plus copy that sparkles, you don’t miss it.


How did this happen? It’s really very simple. Design Firms are generally started by, run by, owned by designers. Designers are visual. Language tends to be a liability, visually. It complicates things. It clutters the page. It mushes up and mucks up the design. Many designers simply don’t truly embrace and value language appropriately. It is almost universally considered, within the world of design, to be a necessary evil. And designers are less likely to value language because they are less likely to be good at it. Designing isn’t writing. People whose talents lie in the visual arena tend to be less language-oriented and vice versa. This might be a good time to remind yourself that I recognize the risk of such sweeping generalizations.

The question remains: How can this state of affairs be fixed? I’m afraid the only way is if the work produced by design firms that do value language is more successful than work by firms that don’t. Over time, good writing would become perceived as a competitive advantage for design firms that provide it. But I don’t see this happening any time soon.

By the way, why are design firms called firms while ad agencies are called agencies?