JACK OR ROSE?
The other day, in a fit of self-isolated boredom, I decided to re-watch James Cameron’s Titanic.
And as I did, I was struck by the depressing similarities between the sinking and my own career.
A few years ago, I was an ECD earning great money, doing great work, (o.k good work) and living in great places.
I was confident, successful and reasonably well off.
In short, I was “unsinkable.” Truly the “king of the world.” (Jeez, this thing writes itself.)
And with all the naivety of Captain E.J Smith, I proceeded to rush on madly, engines full ahead, towards my doom.
Sadly, the metaphors don’t end there.
Titanic, as everyone knows, didn’t have enough lifeboats. “Not enough by half,” as Mr. Andrews, the ship’s builder, said to Rose.
And neither, as it turns out, did I. No side hustles or alternative revenue streams like writing kids’ books or app designing, and no new skills like content writing or SEO.
Did I see the iceberg coming? Did I fuck. I didn’t have any lookouts posted, and even if there were, I’m not sure they would have recognised the danger signs.
The iceberg, let’s call it, oh I don’t know, ageism, the digital revolution, social media, struck me a savage blow.
Almost immediately, my unsinkable career began to founder.
To be fair, I didn’t panic straightaway. I was confident that, with my years of experience, a place in the lifeboats was pretty much assured me.
Accordingly, I wandered in leisurely fashion over to the boats, only to discover they were already full of millennials: UX designers, content writers, full-stack developers and influencers. Every seat was taken.
Mere moments later, as it seemed to me, all the boats had sailed and I found myself clinging to the stern of my career as it slipped quietly beneath the waves:
Next thing I knew, I was in the water. And Christ was it cold.
All around me were hundreds of my peers. Art directors, writers, designers, directors, all desperately trying to keep their heads above water. (Pun intended.)
Somehow I made it to a piece of wreckage and pulled myself partially out of the freezing water. (Thank you, short-term freelance gig.)
In the distance I could see the lights of the lifeboats. But with a sinking heart, I realised that none of them were coming back.
And that’s when it hit me. I was facing a life or death decision.
Sink or swim? Jack or Rose?
If I was Jack, then I would slip quietly beneath the waves and become a small obituary in Campaign Brief.
If I was Rose, then I would cling on determinedly until someone eventually came back to rescue me.
And so we arrive at the present day. And I’m still in the freezing water, chilled, sluggish and barely afloat.
But somehow, I’m managing to do a Rose and blow that silver whistle as long and as loud as I can.
Because if that lifeboat does come back, and I hear the faint voice of a business owner, agency head or recruiter singing out, “is there anyone alive out there?,” I want to make damn sure they hear and see me first.
Anyone else in the same boat?
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