ADWOKE: The Drugs Don't Work.

A (delayed) personal rebuttal to one of the most irresponsible ad industry headlines ever.

In many ways, I pity this generation. We, the supposed adults, in our greed, apathy and corruption, have failed you.

Case and point, last fall, Adage featured an article that exemplifies this failure. The headline read, “Why Creatives Should Microdose LSD and Cannabis Before Big Pitches”. The AdAge piece then goes on to talk about the supposed benefits of putting yourself in an altered state by “microdosing” LCD and cannabis before pitch meetings.

The subhead read, “Want to nail that big creative pitch? Bring along some LSD.”

The Onion or Babylon Bee? No, Adage, a now completely useless ad industry pub that’s an empty husk of its former self. (Above from Adage’s article.)

This article, mind you, came out in the middle of the pandemic when people were isolated from each other. Alcohol and drug abuse were skyrocketing, right along with mental illness and depression in America. If only for this reason, the article was highly irresponsible.

The Adage headline was surely done for the clicks. Yet that it was done at all tells you the maturity level of the folks running Adage and just how unserious a publication it is at this point.

My real issue with AdAge’s article though is, it’s just dreadful, destructive advice - directed at young people. Yet I don’t remember any Ad Industry leaders speaking out against it (that I’m aware of).

That’s a shame.

Well, here’s what I discovered about using chemicals in the quest to aid performance: the drugs don’t work. In fact, as the band, The Verve, once sang, “…they just make you worse.”

I say this from personal experience. In the beginning of my career, I tried using alcohol and drugs in order to cope with big presentations.

MY PERSONAL STORY ABOUT USING TO COPE WITH WITH PUBLIC SPEAKING

In 2001, I worked for TBWA/Chiat/Day. It was my dream job and I was an eager, junior copywriter. When an idea my partner and I had managed to catch the eye of ad legend, Lee Clow, he tapped me to present in a meeting for the 100 million dollar XM Satellite Radio account (Now called Sirius XM Satellite Radio).

There was just one problem. I was absolutely petrified. Totally frightened to the point of near paralysis about this pitch. See, I naturally loathe presenting. Though I’m quite extroverted one on one, put me in front of a big room and I tend to psych myself out. People seemed to be shocked when I tell them this about myself, but it’s true.

In order to cope with this fear, I first tried using alcohol. I did that because I believed it might help me get through that pitch. At the time, I wanted badly to impress Lee Clow and all the other TBWA/Chiat/Day brass that would be in that meeting. I desperately wanted to succeed. And maybe more tellingly, I desperately wanted not to fail.

So I decided I would try drinking to help cope with the stress of that presentation. I had heard, wrongly, as it turns out, that vodka couldn’t be detected on your breath. Of course, I knew that alcohol certainly dulled inhibitions and I figured that certainly couldn’t hurt. So right before the big presentation I went back up into my room. Since the pitch was in the same hotel we were staying in, I opened up the mini bar, poured about 3 shots of vodka into into a glass with some orange juice and guzzled it down.

Within a few minutes, the familiar mix of warmth and the feelings of loosened inhibitions filled my body. Feeling suddenly a bit more courageous, I waltzed down into the pitch room and…

…I killed it.

Yes, I nailed the presentation. And it was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to me.

Why? Because it was in this moment, I had unknowingly struck a deal with the devil. Yes, I had killed the meeting. And, yes, I helped us win a $100 million account. All great news, right?

But who had really killed it in that meeting, I wondered? Me? The vodka? Who was more responsible for the success? This question would haunt me afterwards and the truth was, it was unanswerable.

Sure, that was me in that room performing before those C-Suite executives. But it was the buzzed me, the emboldened-by-a-chemical me. Yet the real me didn’t help win that pitch, because the real me never made it to that meeting. Buzzed me showed up and won the day.

Now what I was doing, of course, was just using alcohol to deal with a common phobia: public speaking. And like so many, I wanted a bandaid, a pill of sorts, a quick fix. I wanted something to make the anxiety, that bordered on sheer terror, go away. Alcohol would make it all easier, I thought. Yet I was too young, perhaps, to realize this solution was too easy.

Soon, the problems began. I found my world shrinking. Alcohol had become, in my mind, the key to my public speaking success. If it lubricated my social interactions on a Friday night, why not on, say, Monday morning? Of course, I told myself I’ll keep it under control. I’ll just drink before the key meetings anyway. Just a little vodka once and awhile. It doesn’t smell, after all, right? Yes, this is what I would do and it would all be fine. Sure, it would be a tad cumbersome but with a little effort and a lot of vodka, at least I could navigate my career.

And just like that, I realized I was becoming a certified alcoholic. Because what else is an alcoholic but someone who needs alcohol to cope?

This is the trap of drug use. It creeps into more and more of your life. I had now begun to think that drinking alcohol was not just the answer to big meetings. In my mind, it was becoming a consideration for any meeting in which I had to present. Soon, I found I was beginning to become preoccupied with my fear.

Within a month or so of the XM pitch, I found myself asked to present to a client, again. This time, by conference call, and I panicked. My world had shrunk further. What if I couldn’t perform? What if I froze? And so, not long after that pitch, once again, I turned to my new-found formula for success and pounded a mini-shot bottle of vodka.

This time, I did so at my desk.

Here it was 9 am in the morning and I was slamming vodka straight up at work. All to get through, yes, a phone call presentation.

Then, on the way to that meeting, something fortuitous happened: I ran into a coworker on the stairway, who took one whiff of me and blurted out,

“What the heck did you drink last night?”

To my great relief, she didn’t realize that drink wasn’t, in fact, downed last night, but 5 minutes earlier - at my desk, no less. Although utterly embarrassed, it was a wake up call. Alcohol, I realized, wasn’t an answer (It’s worth pointing out, I was still full of nerves on that phone-call meeting anyways.)

Oh, and as I learned, rather embarrassingly, vodka does have quite the pungent scent.

OUT WITH THE ALCOHOL. IN WITH THE PILL.

I became convinced alcohol wouldn’t do. First off, I smelled like I was 3 sheets to the wind at work, all before 9:30am. Lovely. And even after drinking, I found I was nervous in that last meeting anyways.

What was I going to do, tote bottles of vodka around with me the rest of my career? And it seemed as though my fears were only growing bigger anyways.

Around this time, wouldn’t you know it, I developed a fear of flying after a bad flight out of New York. And, of course, my public speaking fears weren’t abating.

I wanted desperately to have a successful advertising career as a creative. Yet the two things I would need to do in order to achieve that - presenting and flying to meetings to present - were becoming dread-inducing experiences for me. Looking back, someone, I believe was trying to get my attention.

Again, my fears were only growing larger and I was growing ever smaller. But as I said, I decided rather early into all this, that I could no longer use alcohol as a way to cope with presentations or flying. It was impractical and didn’t work anyways.

So, like an idiot, I decided I would try a prescription drug instead: Xanax.

I had heard that Xanax, a powerful Benzo - as they are affectionately called - worked to suppress feelings of anxiety. I read somewhere that even Pro golfers even take it. Hey, if it’s good enough for them, why not me? Xanax is odorless. And even better, a doctor will prescribe it. So it’s more acceptable, I thought. I mean, at least I’m not drinking at my desk, right? And a tiny Xanax pill is small enough to slip in your wallet. Best of all, I knew someone who was all-to happy to lend me a few. Just to try it out, of course. I’ll just use it once in awhile, just when I needed it.

So, I tried Xanax for the first time in a campaign pitch for Sony PlayStation and…

…I killed it.

Indeed, I did very well in that meeting. But again, I wondered, who did well in that meeting exactly? Me? The Xanax? Of course, it was me and the Xanax, but honestly, who was more responsible for the performance? Who’s to say where I ended and the Xanax began in terms of my presentation confidence and delivery?

Again, as with alcohol, immediately my world began to shrink. When else might I need to take Xanax to cope? On a plane to deal with my fear of flying? In an internal agency meeting where I might have to speak? Meanwhile, my fear of public speaking was only growing and my dependence on a chemical to cope with it, was growing too.

Not long after using Xanax in that meeting, something fortuitous happened again, I took it another time and I failed in that presentation.

This time, the Xanax made me groggy. I was dull. I struggled to marshal my thoughts. I didn’t like the way I felt at all. And worst of all, I was, yes, nervous still.

PRODIGAL, GET ON YOUR KNEES

It was at this point, I abandoned any hope that alcohol and even prescription drugs could work. For one, the idea that I had to depend on a chemical to deal with my fears just didn’t sit with me well. I didn’t want to be drug dependent in order to combat anxieties - anxieties that only seemed to be getting worse. Also, far from liberating me from my fears, these drugs’ power over me only seemed to grow, along with my fears.

So I committed to walking away from them as a solution to deal with my anxieties. Yet this was also problem and I had no game plan. My only plan was not to take Xanax or alcohol or anything else before presentations. Which meant the paralyzing fear remained, only now there was not even a crutch I could lean on.

Most people know that I’m a Christian, but I don’t believe I was one back then. Over time, as a true believer today, I’ve learned a lot about how God works. Namely, it’s often counter-intuitive. One thing I’ve found true: is when he wants your attention, he will often bring you to your knees.

The metaphor that comes to my mind is you’re sitting on a stool. He chops out one leg, but you’ve got three more. Then, he takes out another leg. You’re seriously hobbled now. But you’re still trying to hold it together, but with ever-increasing effort. In my case, I was trying to hold it together with alcohol and Xanax. But the coping mechanisms, obviously, can look different for everyone.

Then God will take away the third leg on the stool. Not because he hates you, but because he cares for you - enough to let you see how precarious your situation is. Now, your problem is beyond your control, but still, you’re trying desperately to not fall on your face. But despite your best efforts, it’s becoming increasingly impossible. Then, finally, he takes the last leg and you find yourself on your knees.

That’s what happened to me in that hotel room that day.

I’d come full circle from that XM Satellite Radio pitch with the fridge filled with mini-bottles of vodka. Now, I was in that spot again, years later, pacing nervously back and forwards, just an hour before another 100 million dollar pitch. Once again, all the most important people from my agency would be in the room watching. All of my same fears would be in that room, too.

Only this time, there was no alcohol to help. Or Xanax. Or a shred of confidence in myself left for that matter.

And that’s when I gave up. Utterly exhausted, I cried out for help - audibly.

Defeated, I remember saying aloud, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.”

Who was I crying out to? God. It was less a formal prayer and more of a spiritual flare gun fired into the air. It’s the kind of thing you do when you come to the end of yourself. The end of my ideas for how to manage my anxieties and my life. The end of believing I had any answers.

And now, I was completely trapped. Before me, was a meeting I couldn't avoid. And there was no going back and no solace I could seek from any drug. All I could do was cry out for help from God - a God that I wasn’t even following.

Sometimes you do things in life even though every fiber in your body is screaming for you to stop. Walking down into that giant presentation room that day was one of those times. It was an act of will.

Now, there was no voice from the heavens that spoke to me in that hotel room that day. It’s not like God took away the fear, either. In fact, I was as panicked, in that moment, as I had ever been, if not worse. And when my turn came during the presentation, where I needed to share the creative, I wanted to bolt for the boardroom doors, but I somehow managed to stand up and…

…I killed it.

Only this time there was no alcohol or Xanax to credit. Was it me? Was it answered prayer? Either answer, would be better than alcohol or Xanax getting the credit, of course.

Yet I am convinced to this day, that he heard me and responded. Walking into that presentation that day, facing that fear sober and asking for help from God, this was the true solution. I just had to be brought to my knees to see it.

THE ADAGE ARTICLE OFFERS A SEDUCTIVE LIE

Up front, I said that adults have let this generation down - and we have. This article from AdAge, is a case study in what I mean. And this is why I’m sharing this story with you, to warn you that this article is peddling a dangerous fallacy.

The truth is, public speaking and presenting is hard. Life can be hard. Dealing with fears is hard. Anyone who says it’s easy to do so is lying. Anyone who says there’s any easy fix to facing fears, like public speaking, is offering you a bandaid. Anyone suggesting the use of chemicals to overcome your anxiety and fears, is setting a trap - a trap from which some never reemerge.

I have lost two close employees/friends in advertising to drugs. They were using chemicals to cope with life, as almost everyone who uses does. Turning to mind altering substances to cope with anxiety is common, because, well, life is hard. And sometimes it feels necessary because our fears feel too big to overcome. So we reach for a pill, a joint or a glass of alcohol for relief, to compensate for what we’re lacking in that moment… what we’re lacking in ourselves.

That’s why I despise this Adage article, because the magazine positions itself as some kind of industry “thought leader”, while offering advice that only pushes young advertising professionals towards hell. It offers a short cut to being great at presenting, when, in fact, it’s not easy. It takes serious work.

To become great at anything - including presenting - you will need to choose the narrow path. In case that’s too cryptic, it’s the harder road, the one that requires sacrifice, bravery and discipline.

By foregoing any reliance on drugs, I began to do the work necessary to face my public speaking fears. I read books on the subject, I practiced before meetings and I exercised to purge excess energy from my body. Not only did this work, these activities were also all positive and beneficial. The fears didn’t go away, instead I grew more brave in the face of them.

Today, I’m someone who has dealt with the paralyzing fear of public speaking, and yet, was able to have a successful career where presenting was constantly required. I’ve even gone on TV to speak multiple times.

What have I learned from this journey? That there are no quick fixes. Drugs are a bandaid, at best. You’ve got to tackle the real problem lurking beneath the surface.

With hard work - and the smallest microdose of faith - anyone can overcome their fears and succeed.

No LSD required.

(*If you want to talk about what following Jesus Christ is all about, reach out to me I would love to talk with you. We’re living in very heavy times, but his yoke is light.

Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”)