The simple is that complex

 
Column We like to preach change, but we take it easy when it comes to change in our own company. Introspection is still one of the most prominent features of our industry. 
Recently at London Heathrow Airport. A glance out of the window once again makes you realize what an incredibly complex and highly sensitive system guarantees that thousands of processes are controlled here in such a way that not permanent chaos, but reasonably predictable conditions prevail. Quiet or clearly perceptible moaning and swearing about long queues at check-in and security checks can be heard everywhere, and every traveler enjoys the latest Heathrow horror stories from those waiting in line, but when you look at it soberly, it is actually quite astonishing that this infinite variety of disciplines interacts in such a way that a comprehensible and functioning whole is created.
On the surface, a highly complex work of art such as that of an international hub has little to do with the everyday attempt to translate abstract briefings into tangible and perceptible communication that, at best, does not annoy, but rather creates a desirable "lovemark" from a product, service or company, whose followers reward it with "loyalty beyond reason".
In our industry, too, many disciplines have to work together and be managed in such a way that communicative harmony is achieved. However, we are not masters of simplification, as we like to claim, but rather discipline fetishists who complain at every opportunity about how "complex" our work has become.
That's right. Compared to the management and organization of an international aviation hub, the mutually beneficial and complementary combination of individual communication disciplines is almost disturbingly simple.
But somehow this actually very pleasant circumstance seems to shake our professional self-image. How else is it that we use increasingly inflationary terminology to claim complexity where there is none? We all talk without hesitation about cross-media, multimedia, through the line, above the line, below the line, we present ourselves as specialists in dialog, "classic" advertising (what, please, would non-classic advertising be), PR, branding, interactive and other media and whatever other terms are or will be invented.
In any case, the astonished public (which is, after all, the recipient of our messages) doesn't give a damn about the fragmented communication landscape; it can't and doesn't want to know from which quiver of communication the arrows are being shot. It is only interested in whether they hit the target.
The same naturally applies to our customers, who are increasingly disconcerted to see how individual communication disciplines are still vying with each other, and in the worst case against each other, for the most important influence on the brand, as if in a beauty contest.
New disciplines and specializations with imaginative names are invented almost daily, disproving the idea that we approach a multi-layered communication task in a "holistically" integrated or whatever way. No one doubts that there are creative talents and proven experts for every single communication challenge.
What is missing are generalists or "navigators" who, like air traffic controllers, have an overview and do not become self-absorbed in the details of their own importance. Introspection is still one of the most prominent features of our industry. A critical view from the outside always helps us more, and lateral entrants with a fresh perspective fit perfectly into an interdisciplinary communications team.
We like to preach change when we are in front of our customers. When it comes to change within our own company, we like to take things a little more slowly. In this respect, we have to be careful that we don't end up with the permanent delays that we like to complain about when we're sitting at the gate and the plane just won't take off.
Kaspar Loeb is CEO of the Geneva-based advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi Simko