Normal.

Barbara Tuchman, the great Pulitzer-prize-winning historian once said, "The persistence of normal is strong." Here's wikipedia's rendition of "Tuchman's Law," which contains the phrase that pays.

Disaster is rarely as pervasive as it seems from recorded accounts. The fact of being on the record makes it appear continuous and ubiquitous whereas it is more likely to have been sporadic both in time and place. Besides, persistence of the normal is usually greater than the effect of the disturbance, as we know from our own times. After absorbing the news of today, one expects to face a world consisting entirely of strikes, crimes, power failures, broken water mains, stalled trains, school shutdowns, muggers, drug addicts, neo-Nazis, and rapists. The fact is that one can come home in the evening—on a lucky day—without having encountered more than one or two of these phenomena. This has led me to formulate Tuchman's Law, as follows: "The fact of being reported multiplies the apparent extent of any deplorable development by five- to tenfold" (or any figure the reader would care to supply)

I've referred to Tuchman's Law a fair amount in this space. And will surely refer to it more and more as trumpism and fascism gets a stronger grip on what used to be amerika. Despite the horror around us, we keep on worrying about what's for dinner, a sore hip, a 40-point-loss by the Knicks. While the world is no longer normal, we hold more tightly to the normality we can still hold onto.

I think about Tuchman's Law especially when it comes to the advertising industry, it's lemming-like linked in lunacy and the practice of agencies and holding companies and those still working going on as if the whole shebang hasn't fallen off a cliff.

'Tis the season for people posting colorful rectangles that say they're judging something or other. Ad Age, once reputable, runs money-grab after money-grab after money grub. They promote hot young creatives, 50 under 40, 60 under 5'2", and A-lists, B-lists and C-lists. In three weeks the tsunami of smarm will arrive--people announcing their descent on the old Greek settlement of Αἴγιτνα, which today we call Cannes. All these are pay to play ruses that presumably pay better than legitimate reality-based reporting.

Instead, we fete, and celebrate and applaud. 

We host, pontificate, and a-trophy-ize.

We persist in acting as if everything is normal.

No one raises an eyebrow and says, "Six years ago ________ occupied an entire building and had 1,500 people. Now they have a single floor and 350 people." Or "Not long ago ________ used to be the biggest agency in the city. Now, they haven't won a major piece of business in five years and they might have fewer than 300 people. Or "Just three years ago, _______ won Agency of the Year. Today, they have no accounts."

There's not a person in the industry not decrying the quality of work the industry produces. It's nearly impossible to turn on the TV or to see a commercial on a streaming service and see something that gets you to say, "I wish I did that." 

Yet no one questions that ten-fold proliferation of awards and award shows, or the massive environmental threat caused by a giant football-field-sized gyre of advertising trophies.

There are more awards than ever and less good work. More award winning people, agencies, strategists, networks, and whatnot, and less to show for all those awards. If 1966 were awarded like today, we'd have the Lt. Calley Humanitarian Award for Village Beautification and we'd all miss the irony.

Meanwhile, we're shirking from the shrinkage and warding off the wombatting of awards.

We are pretending everything's ok, until the lights finally go out altogether.

I'm encouraged by a few small agencies that seem to be sticking to their guns. I'm encouraged by the few who seem to still value elbow grease over posturing. I'm encouraged by those who stand up when the world sits down.

The persistence of normal is strong.

Maybe that's a sign of resilience.

But only if you notice what's not being noticed.