Damaged people are dangerous as they know they can survive

Assange is a damaged character, not just because of his comparatively recent Wikileaks brainchild, but possibly because of how his entire life has unfolded - partly by design, partly by circumstance.

He is currently on Interpol's most wanted list, has a warrant for arrest in Sweden, and is denounced by his native Australia and has been told he faces criminal charges if he returns. As if that's not enough, he has served a spell in prison for hacking, was in hiding with his mother during his teenage years due to custody battles, and then faced another custody battle over his own child in the late 1990's.

He undoubtedly has a phenomenal mind, and this is paired with what often comes across as an awkward and geeky manner. This interview with him on TED shows both of these qualities in abundance.

None of this is news, but I'd like to posit two theories about why he keeps going, and why this is endearing to so many.

First, why he keeps going. In one of the many films named 'Damaged' (I think it's this one) there's the quotation that forms the title of this post. It's hard for us to empathise with Assange, but there must come a point at which you feel so embattled that it becomes a way of life, and if you're tough enough you can focus the adrenaline energy into doing something positive (he and his mother formed a group called 'Parent Inquiry into Child Protection' that helped people access legal files about child custody issues had hitherto remained beyond their grasp).

That, mated with a potent cocktail of hacking ability and a putative knowledge of philosophy and neuroscience, could easily be seen to make him think that if anyone's going to effect change, they're not going to be much better prepared than he is.

Perhaps it also becomes an addiction, as the neurotransmitter adrenaline courses through his nerves, resisting sleep and causing restive twitches (both of which his colleagues testify to, although I can't remember where I read this).

And it's all of the above that leads me to why he's so endearing: a sleep-deprived, adrenaline junkie hacker, in hiding from international politicians, fighting for his kid, having led a gypsy childhood, and exposing the tawdry-to-downright-dangerous diplomatic goings-on that governments want to hide.

Move over Stieg Larsson (oops, you already did): this has got more film potential than any of your novels.

Post-logic marketing

I spend a worrying amount of my time in workshops, guiding a collection of well-meaning people toward a conclusion that is often entirely logical.

Nothing wrong with logic when it comes to many things, but when it comes to creative advertising I think that it can be a brand's enemy.

We're in danger, especially in the healthcare sector, of being slaves to logic at the expense of imagination. Why should we pat ourselves on the back for being able to see how a concept links to a product? Why should the link be that obvious? Why should we always have to show a patient / a situation / a hackneyed metaphor?

Some may argue that it gets the point across quickly. However, I would opine that it's pretty damn irrelevant if the concept is so dull in the first place that no-one bothers looking at it or feeling any sense of connection or emotional response.

I've always hated market researching concepts for two reasons: first, no-one spends hours questioning a concept in real life - this only leads to lowest common denominator creative that offends no-one (and attracts no-one). Second, Jo Public is not paid or trained to be creative, or to imagine. Instead, they're paid £40 to turn up, criticise and offer their 'logical' reasons why they approve of something.

Which, if you're in the medical profession, is likely to make your stated view one that you think will make you sound like a committed and logical physician, when actually you're stifling an emotional response.

Logic is often all we have when we're trying to describe why a concept should go forward and be made into an ad. But consider this: how are some of the best works of art 'logical'? They stay with us, intrigue us and make our hackles rise very often because they can't be categorised. And that, in my book, is brilliant.

Some may think this is at odds with being a planner. I disagree. To be able to take clients to the point at which they favour emotion over logic takes a lot more effort and convincing, despite the fact that you'll have a lot more chance of standing out.