This industry loses the plot faster than a Netflix reboot. One week it’s Kokai margins, the next it’s AI logos, then suddenly every third person on LinkedIn is an “Generative AI guru.” Everyone’s sprinting in different directions like caffeinated squirrels, clutching PowerPoint decks labeled “disruption.”

Meanwhile, the basics — honesty, decency, actual human connection — are treated like optional add-ons.

And here’s the boring-but-profound question that never makes it into the pitch decks: how do you stay rooted when the ground itself won’t stop shaking?

Shabbos (or Rest).
Not “self-care™,” not your CMO’s keynote on “mindful leadership.” Actual rest. The radical act of walking away. This industry burns itself hot enough to light its own awards backdrop, and the only real rebellion is the audacity to unplug. A day off says: you’re not a machine, and your worth isn’t tied to refresh rates.

(For proof, see every exec who brags about sleeping four hours a night and then mysteriously “steps back for health reasons.” Hustle culture isn’t noble. It’s stupid.)

Middos (Character).
Forget vanity metrics. Try patience when someone screws up, honesty when everyone else is bluffing, loyalty when the incentives scream betrayal. Campaign dashboards fade. Cannes Lions gather dust. But character? That lingers.

Think about it: FTX ran Super Bowl ads with celebrities, raised billions, and vaporized. Meanwhile, the companies still standing are the ones that quietly built trust over years. It’s not sexy, but it’s the only compounding interest that matters.

Real People Over Avatars.
Behind every DSP dashboard, every Slack channel, every late-night “urgent” email, there’s a human being. The frazzled client. The overworked junior planner. Even the crank who just called you an “asshat” in your inbox. Avatars flicker out. People remember how you showed up.

Ask yourself: when you’re negotiating media buys, are you treating people like CPMs on legs or as actual partners? Spoiler — they know the difference.

Community as Anchor.
Markets collapse. Bosses leap to competitors. Platforms pivot themselves into oblivion (looking at you, Clubhouse). The only thing that holds is the circle you break bread with. Colleagues who turn into friends. Mentors who take your calls when the job is gone. Neighbors who don’t give a damn about your Cannes reel.

Adland has a raging case of shiny-object vertigo. Web3, Metaverse, NFTs, blockchain deodorant, AI that can barely conjugate verbs — the carousel spins, and agencies rebrand every six months to keep up. “AI-first.” “Web3-curious.” “Metaverse-native.” They forget the one job they actually had: telling stories to humans.

But here’s the contrarian power play: being grounded as your brand. Imagine a shop that doesn’t sell itself as “bleeding-edge,” but as steady, sane, and allergic to buzzword inflation.

Picture the pitch: “We don’t promise magic beans. We promise not to waste your time or money chasing them.” In an industry addicted to hype, that might be the only differentiation that matters.

Your career won’t be measured in Cannes Lions or how many AI panels you moderated at CES. It’ll be measured in phone calls — the ones people still take when your title disappears.

Staying grounded isn’t flashy. It won’t win the sizzle reel. But in a business built on sandcastles — platforms, algorithms, ephemeral relevance-as-currency — the boring stuff may be the only foundation strong enough to last.

Are we building legacies on solid ground, or just surfing the hype cycle until the tide goes out — leaving us sitting in the mud with nothing but a jargon-filled slide deck and a participation trophy from Cannes?