Used to be, every agency of a certain size had a research department. This department was generally populated by nice people who had, at best, a tangential relationship to the creation of advertising.

They were the repositories of information regarding such arcane technologies as Clucas and DAR and any number of other acronyms.

And, as is always the case, there were people who were good at their jobs and people who were not so good. The good ones would help sell the agency's product to its clients, while the mediocre ones had no qualms about killing an idea because one housewife in Scarborough didn't like it.

But by and large, they were a support service.

Of course, that was then.

Now the research department runs the agency.

An overstatement? Yeah, a little bit, but not really. Who is the final arbiter of the substance of what we create? Of what we say to convince the customer to try our product or service? Who determines the tone and manner of how it's said?

That'd be Planning, formerly known as the Research Department. Boy, you want to talk about paradigm shifts? (To borrow a favourite phrase from you know who.)

So how did we come to this pass? Why did we give up control over the most important things an ad agency does?

Call it the cult of the consumer. Planners are the "keepers of the consumer." Only they truly understand what motivates the consumer. Only their insights into the consumer stand between us and the largest debacle since New Coke. But what are those insights? Are they ours and ours alone, or are they available to anyone with the inclination to convene a focus group? Just how important is an understanding of the consumer anyhow? Is it more important than our understanding of the product or service or brand we're selling?

Planning was supposed to be the big stick agencies were going to use to sell fearless, edgy work to clients that otherwise wouldn't look at it twice. Well, is it any easier to sell adventurous work now than it was before? I don't think so. If anything, it may be a little tougher.

Then if it isn't the big selling tool it was made out to be, what good is it? What does planning/research really bring to our understanding of our advertising and the effectiveness of our advertising?

Because that's the only true test of the value of anything we do. Does it make the advertising we create more effective?

So let's be arbitrary for a moment. We're all grownups here. Has advertising in this country gotten better or more effective since the introduction of planning roughly 10 years ago? I think that'd be a pretty tough case to make. I know there's a lot of boring sameness out there.

Look at the QSR/fast food category. Geez, someone had the great insight that consumers need to see the food. Can we honestly say that there's any strategic or conceptual difference between Pizza Hut, Harveys, the Keg or MacDonalds? "Gee, let's show lots of great food photography and get people's mouths watering." At least Tim Hortons, every once in a while, has the insight to talk about who they are, not just what they sell.

So how does everyone end up in the same place? Maybe because they all do the same research? The same focus groups? And get told the same story. Flavoured instant coffees in a tin? "That's my little break, making a little time for me." Wham-instant strategy.

How have we come to the place where what we say is determined not by the best and brightest minds among the agency and the client, but by a consensus of Scarborough housewives? Who is responsible?

We are.

We, the creative people and account people and management, who've given up our responsibility for the client's business. That is what we've given up. Responsibility. What the hell does an account person who isn't intimately involved in strategy do? What kind of creative person doesn't have an innate and/or hard-earned understanding of the way people act and feel and believe?

Answer one-nothing. The account person who doesn't take responsibility for advertising strategy fulfills the classic stereotype of the bag carrier, the coordinator, and, to go back to ancient times, the "client man." S/he is nothing but a handler, a eunuch, whose only job is to make sure the client is happy and that their requests get passed on to the agency and executed appropriately.

How much value does a client place on an account person who doesn't contribute to strategy? How involved can such a person really be in their business?

Answer two-a bad one. If I, as a creative person, don't understand what motivates people, what they care about, what can really move them in a certain direction, then I'm worse than useless. I'm just some artsy twit who, once again, fills every ugly stereotype ever assumed about creative people. I'm not concerned with the client's business, all I care about is getting noticed, jumping on the latest trend, and getting something on the reel that other creative people will ooh and ahh about.

We often talk about being "genuine business partners."

How can we honestly claim that title when the most senior account and creative people don't take responsibility for what is being said on behalf of our clients and their brands? I don't believe it's enough to have "input" into the strategic document. I don't believe we should be presenting strategic documents to clients for their input. I think we need to be down there in the trenches with our clients from the very beginning, fighting it out, arguing over direction and nuance, and discovering new ways to look at our customers and our products.

I think we need a new partnership.

We need a new partnership between the brand manager, the senior account person and the senior creative team working on a product. We need to share responsibility for success and for failure.

Everybody needs to have an investment in what we're saying.

We need to understand that our success is tied to our client's success. Not just in the traditional ad agency motherhood cliché. We need to do it at the most basic, even junior level. And we need to make sure that s/he understands that as well. I had an epiphany once, on the first shoot with a famously fractious client. Just bullshitting around, she asked us how we defined our jobs. I said our job was to make her a star.

For two years afterwards, we never had a moment's trouble from her.