On death and dying.

Yesterday, I read another one of those stories in what’s left of the advertising trade press, this one was about a young strategist working at Ogilvy in the Philippines who literally worked himself to death.

Worked himself to death.

Who hasn’t felt at times that we’re all working too hard, too long, too fast and we’re under too much pressure?

Who hasn’t felt like there are too few people doing too much work at too rapid a pace?

We heard from candidate Bernie Sanders in the late presidential campaign about income inequality—but we hardly realize the ramifications of that inequality. And Sanders kept income inequality as an economic woe--he did little to express the concept in human terms.

For the agency machine to generate the revenue and margins necessary for the malefactors of great wealth at the top of the holding companies to collect $100 million compensation packages, people have to die. Or get sick. Or get sick and die.

I don’t think we visualize—and think about—the sacrifices we all have to make so a few can make almost incomprehensible amounts of money.

"How was your day, honey?" "Fine, how was yours?"

 It’s really no different from how Carnegie or Frick or Rockefeller treated their workers a century and a half or so ago.

Think of mine cave ins—due to unsafe working conditions—because money that might have been spent on safety were instead spent on paying the few at the top their Croesus-like salaries.

I’m afraid a parallel of such peril is happening in our business. People working untold (and uncompensated) hours.

So a few can get rich.