The fight for attention is over – why I’m farewelling advertising

For over two decades, I worked at the creative and strategic coalface – across agencies in Australia and the UK, and for the last six years, at US+US, the brand agency I founded and led. And while I’ve stepped away from agency life to focus on my own thing, one belief has only grown stronger: advertising isn’t working the way it used to. In fact, it doesn't work the way it should at all!

When I launched US+US, my intention was clear – a relationship-led, full-service creative company offering brand, design, strategy, and yes, advertising. For a while, we did it all. But over time, advertising became the fly in the ointment – the source of strained relationships, budget blowouts, and underwhelming outcomes.

Today’s advertising feels like a pointless endeavour – not just the act of trying to persuade people to engage with something they have absolutely no interest in, but also the making of advertising. All too often, projects are time-pressured and budget-poor. Briefs ill-defined. And now, in 2025, completely undermined by AI.

So I’ve stopped. Retired. Not in protest, just in acceptance. A decision I wrestled with for a long time.

And I say this as someone who fell in love with advertising on my first day in the industry back in 2001. I’ve greatly enjoyed working with scores of lovely, caring and creative people.

But that advertising and today’s advertising are like night and day.

Here’s the harsh reality. Attention has vanished. Many of the marketers who truly understood advertising have left. Budgets have been decimated. Media channels that allowed ads to breathe and flourish are gone. Even the advertising ‘greats’, the brilliant folks who made the industry what it was, have gone. In their place, we’ve got a fresh, diverse workforce – a very positive shift. But we’ve lost experience, insight and understanding.

The decline of advertising was always on the cards. Progress happens, things change, and sometimes, industries outlive their relevance. The ad industry, like taxis faced with Uber, is clinging to its former glory, arguing for its relevance when, in truth, it’s becoming obsolete. And let’s remember: no one rushed to defend taxi drivers.

Here’s something to chew on: established wisdom states that gaining attention is a measure of advertising value. Attention helps marketers know if their ads are breaking through the noise and engaging consumers.

My contention is that advertising needs attention to work in the first place, i.e., people need to pay attention. And therein lies the paradox. Today’s audiences are empowered, sceptical, and spoiled for choice. They scroll past, skip, block, and tune out ads with ease. Consequently, advertisers face the challenge of grabbing attention using methods that inherently require it – targeting an audience that is increasingly resistant to giving it.

Advertising needs attention to work, but today’s highly distracted audience is incapable of giving it.

Recent research shows that attention spans are dwindling. Over the past two decades, the average time a person can focus has dropped from around 2.5 minutes to about 45 seconds. Similarly, today’s attention span is around 8.25 seconds – less than that of a goldfish. Our digital lives and constant information influx are reshaping attention spans, making sustained focus rare.

The problem goes deeper than simply capturing attention. Metrics like viewability, clicks, and completion rates have become proxies for success, but they don’t tell the full story. An ad might catch someone’s eye momentarily, but does it resonate? Does it engage the viewer’s mind, or is it just another blip in the content stream, forgotten seconds later?

If advertising needs attention to work, what’s the alternative? The answer isn’t about “delivering something valuable” or “using emotion.” That’s been laboured a thousand times over. The answer is simpler, foundational.

Build and nurture a brand that is confident in its own skin, not fighting for momentary attention; it’s about consistent presence, recognition, and resonance. Every time someone encounters a brand, it gains a little more strength, embedding itself into memory and becoming a reference point. It doesn’t need to shout because it already has a voice, a story, and an identity.

So, where does that leave us? With a model that moves from chasing attention to cultivating identity. Building a brand is about creating something substantial and lasting, a foundation that consumers trust and choose over time. Instead of superficial engagement, brand focuses on enduring value. It doesn’t require the constant attention-seeking of advertising to remain relevant.

Brand building is business building. It’s being both conscientious and pragmatic, creative and insightful. It’s cultivating an expression of who a business is – not what it’s trying to sell (although that’s clearly important).

Brand welcomes attention, but doesn’t seek it, eschewing transient impressions for real, lasting connection. And in a world increasingly resistant to advertising, brand is what will remain standing, strong and unshaken.

The most rewarding parts of my time at US+US Brand Agency, and various agencies before that, have been working with businesses and organisations to uncover who they are, why they are distinct, how they can emotionally connect, and what undiscovered aspect powers their relevance.

I did it with financial unicorns like Judo Bank and emerging usurpers like Goodbye Gas. I found joy working with international logistics company Natrio, and Australian funds manager, Castlerock. I helped craft authentic identities for Ballarat and Victoria. And I always strived to find a view on what’s right for my clients in the long term, not what’s gonna grab the most attention – or awards – now.

So yes, I've retired from offering advertising as a service – I'm happy to offer counsel, or advise on creative and campaigns – but I'm doubling down on brand, because, in the long run, it’s brand that builds enduring connection, loyalty and drives sustained business growth.