Next week I’ll be offline. Not because I’m hiding, not because I’ve run out of things to yell about, and certainly not because the industry is suddenly less entertaining. I’ll be away for Rosh Hashonoh, and then for Yom Kipper and Sukkos — the cluster of Jewish days that demand more than a LinkedIn status and a well-lit conference selfie. These are days for family, for quiet (or the kind of noisy family quiet that only relatives can make), for questions that don’t have a neat KPI attached to them: Who are you? What did you do this year that mattered? Who needs you right now?

We won’t publish new ADOTAT issues on those days. We will send out some ADOTAT+ pieces for your slow, suspicious reading — things to ruffle your brain a little while you’re actually paying attention to something besides programmatic dashboards. And Thursday — when we return — we’re dropping a long, blood-in-the-water issue on the CTV wars: Roku vs. Amazon vs. Samsung. It’s a fight for the living room and the ledger, and it’s going to be messy and consequential.

But before any of that, I want to push you — gently, then less gently — to notice what the holiday calendar is trying to teach us.

We are not indispensable.
Nobody writes into a funeral planner saying, “Hold the eulogy for my open-rate return.” Life will keep happening while you chase the perfect attribution model. Your inbox will swell, vendors will send product decks with three charts and one marginally honest claim, and the press releases will try to seduce you like a late-night infomercial. Meanwhile, there’s a kid learning to ride a bike in your neighborhood, a parent who forgot when to take their pills, a friend who needs a call that says, “I’m here,” not “I liked your post.”

Rest isn’t a luxury. It’s a strategy.
Taking the days off doesn’t make your job easier tomorrow; it makes you easier to be around. The sharpest insights come from a mind that’s been allowed to wander off its treadmill. Ideas don’t travel at the same speed as your Slack pings — they need silence, friction, and actual human voices.

Now the part that should make people squirm in their seats.

The “education” at many industry events is performative.
I’ve been told — more than once — that I don’t get invited to speak because certain sponsors would rather pay to own the room than risk a voice they can’t buy. One conference organizer told me flat out: “You’d bring people, but we’d lose sponsorship dollars.”

Translation: the agenda is for sale.

The panels are product demos in suits.

Networking drinks are a funnel.

The boss who sends their junior to a “training” that’s really a sales pitch should ask themselves: Are we learning anything, or just being primed to buy?

This isn’t a niche problem. It’s the business model of too many B2B events: gift, favor, quid pro quo, rinse, repeat. And when the pay-to-play logic rules the stage, real critique disappears — along with any hope of honest conversation about the industry’s deeper rot.

So when your team asks to go to the next big conference, don’t just sign off on the travel budget.

Ask three hard questions:

Who’s paying?

Who benefits?

What will we actually learn that will change how we work?

If the sponsor list looks like a roll call of companies who profit from opacity, maybe the education is a cover story.

On a personal note: this week has been rough. I’m still figuring out how to tell you about some bad news that’s changed me — and why I keep writing anyway.

Why do I keep writing?

Because this newsletter is my version of therapy.

Because the act of shaping a sentence that makes someone think differently is a small rebellion against despair.

Because you, yes you, sometimes send a reply that smells like a lifeline.

So Sunday’s column will be raw.

It will be honest.

It will be me trying to make sense of being human in an industry that treats people like rows in a spreadsheet.

If you’re not Jewish, you might think these days don’t apply to you.

You’re wrong. The lessons here are universal: slow down, choose what deserves your attention, and remember that business outcomes mean nothing if you don’t have someone to share them with.

Power, influence, and awards are fungible.

People are not.

Before I go: a housekeeping note. We’ll still be active enough to push ADOTAT+ previews to your inbox so you can have something to argue with while you’re off the grid. The big CTV piece drops Thursday and it’s worth the wait — because what happens in CTV will change your funnel, your reach, and a lot of boardroom math for the next five years.

So do this for me: turn off a notification or two. Call someone you love. Eat something that didn’t come in a branded packet.

And when you go back to work, bring the perspective you found in the quiet with you — the kind of perspective advertisers pay thousands for in workshops, except this one’s free and comes with a human heart attached.

See you on the other side, with a long, ugly dispatch about streaming platforms and the appetite for attention they sell.

Stay Bold, Stay Curious, and Know More than You Did Yesterday.