Tim Hayward

Getting on my wiki

On a shelf just behind my right shoulder, clad in sober brown Rexine, is a metre and half of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. It should, if I had any claim to professionalism, be the best-thumbed thing in my library but in truth many, of its spines remain uncracked. I have, of late, fallen entirely under the spell of the Wikipaedia (as it should obviously be spelt). I know the risks. I know that it's too easy for generally accepted but incorrect ideas to gain credibility. I know it's possible for the unscrupulous or the frankly mad to warp any truth it contains. On the other hand I can't resist the convenience or the egalitarian thrill of such a huge body of free, peer-reviewed knowledge.

And neither, of course can anyone else. Businesses have been quick to see the potential of Wikis as a self-populating repository of corporate intellectual property. "This is great. We can assemble all the knowledge in the company, without any cost of data entry, and publish it to a waiting audience at a profit". The simple 'something for nothing' model is almost calculated to delight the hearts of company management and none more so than the ad agencies.

Ad agencies have a unique hubris about their ideas and intellects. Account men who consider themselves sharper negotiators than diamond dealers, creatives who genuinely believe they have the artistic chops to leave Hollywood in the dust and planners whose huge brains would dwarf a mere Hawking.

They sell, of course, on precisely this image. Clients are led willingly to that point (at the top of the garden path) where they believe that they're getting the very best ideas that money can buy.

Which is why the agency Wiki is going to be their downfall. They're right, of course, that there is no better way to collate and peer review knowledge. Where they're wrong is in believing that they'll be able to chisel out any value from their process of internal mining.

Collating the authentically self-generated ideas and intellectual property of a London advertising agency would give you four reusable ad concepts, nine thousand highly derivative PowerPoint slides (with triangles on) and the numbers of eight coke dealers. While that might cover more than a second-class stamp - it would also contain a terrifying quantity of received wisdom, prejudice, ignorance and stupidity. The idea that this could be packaged, branded and charged for ranks just a notch below King Canute's anti-flood strategy as an example of catastrophically misjudged self-belief.

There used to be a terrific column in Private Eye called Ad Nauseam, which quietly pointed out the sources of 'inspiration' for TV commercials - mainly Hollywood films or MTV videos. Sadly the column couldn't track the number of 'ideas' lifted from trainee creatives' portfolios or young directors showreels. What it did illustrate beautifully, though is that the ad industry, though it bills itself as 'creative' is, of its very nature, anything but. Successful ads talk to the mass of ordinary people in a way they can understand about things they can recognise. It is, of its very nature, derivative, slavishly pursuing a zeitgeist set by others.

The beauty of a Wiki is that it's all about stuff you don't know and other people do. Wikis are about humility and sharing. Wikis are about putting stuff out there for greater good and maybe learning a little. The notion of using one to harvest and turn agency 'knowledge' into revenue is so flawed as to be ridiculous. They should be putting what little they can contribute into the public domain to repay a small measure of what they've taken out.



		Getting on my wiki On a shelf just behind my right shoulder, clad in sober brown Rexine, is a metre and half of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. It should, if I had any claim to professionalism, be the best-thumbed thing in my library but in truth many, of its spines remain uncracked. I have, of late, fallen entirely under the spell of the Wikipaedia (as it should obviously be spelt). I know the risks. I know that it's too easy for generally accepted but incorrect ideas to gain credibility. I know it's possible for the unscrupulous or the frankly mad to warp any truth it contains. On the other hand I can't resist the convenience or the egalitarian thrill of such a huge body of free, peer-reviewed knowledge. And neither, of course can anyone else. Businesses have been quick to see the potential of Wikis as a self-populating repository of corporate intellectual property. "This is great. We can assemble all the knowledge in the company, without any cost of data entry, and publish it to a waiting audience at a profit". The simple 'something for nothing' model is almost calculated to delight the hearts of company management and none more so than the ad agencies. Ad agencies have a unique hubris about their ideas and intellects. Account men who consider themselves sharper negotiators than diamond dealers, creatives who genuinely believe they have the artistic chops to leave Hollywood in the dust and planners whose huge brains would dwarf a mere Hawking. They sell, of course, on precisely this image. Clients are led willingly to that point (at the top of the garden path) where they believe that they're getting the very best ideas that money can buy. Which is why the agency Wiki is going to be their downfall. They're right, of course, that there is no better way to collate and peer review knowledge. Where they're wrong is in believing that they'll be able to chisel out any value from their process of internal mining. Collating the authentically self-generated ideas and intellectual property of a London advertising agency would give you four reusable ad concepts, nine thousand highly derivative PowerPoint slides (with triangles on) and the numbers of eight coke dealers. While that might cover more than a second-class stamp - it would also contain a terrifying quantity of received wisdom, prejudice, ignorance and stupidity. The idea that this could be packaged, branded and charged for ranks just a notch below King Canute's anti-flood strategy as an example of catastrophically misjudged self-belief. There used to be a terrific column in Private Eye called Ad Nauseam, which quietly pointed out the sources of 'inspiration' for TV commercials - mainly Hollywood films or MTV videos. Sadly the column couldn't track the number of 'ideas' lifted from trainee creatives' portfolios or young directors showreels. What it did illustrate beautifully, though is that the ad industry, though it bills itself as 'creative' is, of its very nature, anything but. Successful ads talk to the mass of ordinary people in a way they can understand about things they can recognise. It is, of its very nature, derivative, slavishly pursuing a zeitgeist set by others. The beauty of a Wiki is that it's all about stuff you don't know and other people do. Wikis are about humility and sharing. Wikis are about putting stuff out there for greater good and maybe learning a little. The notion of using one to harvest and turn agency 'knowledge' into revenue is so flawed as to be ridiculous. They should be putting what little they can contribute into the public domain to repay a small measure of what they've taken out.

		© Tim Hayward 2005 - 2007