Communication Shift: From "Selling Products" to "Improving Society" Through Communication (Hatori Shoten) is my attempt to outline the future of advertising. I'm pleased to announce a new series based on this book, serialized in Web Dentsu Tsūhō.
I wanted this series to explore the issues and dissonance surrounding advertising activities, and to search for the future beyond them. But I wasn't sure what form it should take. Normally, one might think of a dialogue format, but when Akiko Nakajima from Dentsu Inc. PR suggested, "How about an exchange of letters?", it clicked.
I envisioned writing letters to people I thought should read this book, sending them along with the book itself. This way, the ideas embedded in the book would pass on like a baton, changing form as it connects from person to person.
It's a bit—no, quite embarrassing—a raw, zero-objectivity exchange between me and someone else. If you're willing, please join us.

The first recipient is Keita Kusaka from the Kansai Creative Bureau. From the start, I knew it had to be him. We've known each other for years, he contributed to my serialized column 'Communication Shift' in AdTie, and recently, he's been involved in incredibly interesting projects like the Bunno-sato Shopping District Poster Exhibition. I wanted to know what he's thinking about now.
To Keita.
A few years ago, when Kusaka was in Tokyo, we worked together a lot.
And back then, I was really "struggling."
Once, I even wrote a proposal where the pages were blank from a certain point onward.
Because no matter what I wrote, it didn't reach my own feelings, and I thought I could no longer put it into words.
Those were days when, trying to be as true as possible to my own desire to "convey only what truly matters," things would inevitably, and strangely, go awry.
Kusaka always seemed to love my approach, telling me it was "the best."
Kusaka was clumsy, bad at lying, sensitive, and had a slightly reckless feel to him.
When he realized what was truly important and tried to act accordingly, things turned out strangely.
Maybe because he seemed to be trying to do just that.
Then Kusaka won the TCC Best Newcomer Award, and I vaguely thought, "He'll surely make it big as a copywriter."
Later, I learned he'd returned to Osaka and started a festival called the Self Festival after the Great East Japan Earthquake.
Drawn by the strange sound of "Self Festival"*1, I went to Osaka as part of a Communication Shift interview series. It was a festival where everyone brought things they'd thought up on their own to create together. A self-made mikoshi, a self-made parade... On either side of Kusaka, wearing a turban and sunglasses, men dressed as British soldiers saluted. They were juniors from his company.
It was then that Kusaka told me about the "straw sandal creator." He said there was an old woman who wove straw sandals every day, but she had no one to give them to. However, when she participated in the Self Festival, her sandals sold like crazy. She looked incredibly happy, and Kusaka thought, "Now that old woman is a straw sandal creator."
It was a good story.
That grandmother's feelings are "real."
But back when Kusaka started the "Fuminosato Shopping District Poster Exhibition"*2 to revitalize the town, also as training for young copywriters and art directors, it didn't really click for him at the time.
I wondered what kind of "truth" could possibly be found there. But learning it actually contributed to revitalizing the town, I recently looked into the poster exhibition in detail and realized that the rule—"Any poster is acceptable, and no matter what kind of poster it is, we'll let them put it up"—is actually brilliant.
"No coordination with the shop owners whatsoever." That's why "the creator's true feelings are there."
When people look at the poster exhibition, I think what they're really seeing is the presence of the person who made the poster, without hearing the shop owner's intentions, and it's that "truth" that draws everyone in.
And as a result, this poster exhibition draws large crowds and is greatly appreciated by the shopping district residents.
Do you remember when we once talked about advertising and lies?
Advertising is increasingly seen as not "telling the truth."
That's why we have to think about how to make advertising seem like it "tells the truth."
That's what we talked about.
I only recently realized that poster exhibition was Kusaka's answer to that question.
I had invited Kusaka to contribute to the serialized column 'Communication Shift' on the Sendenkaigi website "Adtai," yet I didn't use the dialogue section with him in the new book 'Communication Shift.' I've always felt bad about that.
Partly, it was because Kusaka's activities—mainly his Self Festival work—felt too far removed from advertising.
And another reason was, well, it felt like talking to someone close to me, and I felt a bit hesitant about it.
Ah, I really wish I could talk with Kusaka again now, in depth, and include that in this 'Communication Shift' book.
If he were to add something to this book, what would Kusaka write?
What would he add?
Please tell me.
2014.4.5 Susumu Namikawa
Hey, Nami.
Why didn't you include my interview in 'Communication Shift'?
My activities were the ones shifting communication the most.
Because it was too far removed from advertising...
That very reason is why communication hasn't shifted.
Honestly, Nami-san is carrying way too much on her shoulders.
She should just do things she enjoys more, things that make her laugh out loud, things she wants to do. But she's burdened herself with social media and advertising, turning herself into some kind of advertising saint. She needs to relax more, take off that robe, and just do what she likes, like when she was drawing shoujo manga in the conference room.
So, I'll just vent these frustrations for now.
Yeah, like Nami-san wrote, I'm bad with lies.
I'm bad at telling lies, but I'm even worse at being lied to.
And I spot lies really fast.
(I think I'm about as fast as Salinger's Zoe)
And when I realize I'm being lied to, I just freeze up and can't do anything.
That's why I was always cold toward advertising.
But working with people in advertising who didn't lie was really fun.
That was Nami-san. That's probably why she asked me this question.
"Realizing what's truly important,
and because of that, acting strangely,
what do you feel as a result, what do you gain, and what do you see now?"
The real truth I've realized.
For me, it's that "advertising isn't interesting."
It's been a long time since advertising touched my heart.
Even things considered interesting in the industry, like ACC or Cannes.
Experiencing things like Afghanistan during its civil war or the earthquake disaster has also made me jaded.
When some countries don't even have milk, why do we have to sell so many things?
Why are we still pushing mass consumption when resources are running out?
A short story is more interesting than a commercial,
and a YouTube video made by high schoolers is more interesting than a professional production.
I just couldn't draw a line between advertising and everyday content.
And if I kept making ads like this, I'd turn into a boring person.
That sense of crisis is what drives me.
I need to keep training my sense of fun. I've kept up a photo blog for about six years now, and I think that's led to all sorts of things.
Like serializing work at Kyōichi Tsuzuki's place, or holding this silly festival called the Self Festival.
The Self Festival was fun.
There's no pretense in the expression.
The quality varies, but everyone is overflowing with the desire to express themselves.
That's what you call the impact of a first album.
Sometimes an unknown artist's first album is more interesting than Bob Dylan's sixteenth. That's it.
The power of that first album, "The Waraji Album," released by the straw-sandal-making grandmother, was great.
Advertising lacks that.
The desire to "express something" has been whittled away.
Most adults say things like "Ads aren't my work, they're the client's work," but that "not-my-work" feeling is rampant and makes ads boring.
I mean, if you're called a creator, you gotta have the guts to say "This is my work!" right?
(The word CREATOR is, dare I say, synonymous with god.)
And the 'Shopping District Poster Exhibition' was a great example of harnessing that "desire to express" effectively.
I was in charge of training young staff, and while brainstorming ideas, I thought, "Hey, why not make posters for each shop in the district?" since we were holding a Self Festival.
The young staff at the Kansai branch were listless, had few opportunities, and a vague sense of stagnation hung over them.
I wanted to break that. (Well, Tokyo had its own kind of stagnation too.)
"Just express yourselves however you want. Dirty jokes are fine. Your own work is fine."
And I made sure to set up a solid foundation where they could express themselves freely.
I told the shop owners we'd create whatever we wanted, and we'd skip all the presentations and confirmation processes.
That might have been the secret to its success.
Everyone's intense desire to "make something fun" just exploded in the shopping district.
It wasn't that the expression itself was real; the desire was real.
Everyone's frustrated with their "expression," huh.
This shopping district poster exhibition really hit the mark.
Lots of media came to cover it, and it won tons of advertising awards.
And we didn't use a single celebrity or spend any money at all.
And that's when I thought.
Oh, advertising is actually fun, I thought.
Everyone was enjoying looking at the ads.
It was like viewing art in a gallery.
And I realized something else.
The folks at Dentsu Inc. are brilliant.
If these people could fully express what they want to do, they'd create something amazing.
I want to create a vessel where everyone can unleash their full potential.
Not just creatives, but sales, media, strategy—a place where all kinds of people can unleash their full potential. A place where that power isn't used defensively for adjustments, brakes, or considerations, but can be directed forward with everything they've got.
So, you ask, aren't you expressing yourself fully?
I am. I am.
Dressing like a homeless person and wearing Chanel perfume,
or walking around town dressed like the Taliban and getting yelled at by the police.
I'm starting to lose track of who I am.
May 13, 2014 Keita Kusaka
P.S.
Truth be told, the only person I can call my mentor is Nami-san.
She never taught me how to plan projects or write copy.
She never told me to do good for society.
She just taught me how to work.
That it's okay to work according to your own beliefs, not money or organizational logic.
*1 Self Festival
In May 2012, a bizarre 21st-century festival began in the shabby shopping district of Shinsekai Market in Naniwa Ward, Osaka City—anyone can join, anything goes! Art, hobbies, special skills... People of all ages create the festival with performances of their own choosing. A major wave in Osaka. Its slogan is "Celebrate Yourself." This year's event is scheduled for September 13-15. Core members include Kotakeman, Keita (Keita Kusaka), and others.
*2 Fuminosato Shopping District Poster Exhibition
An attempt to revitalize a declining shopping district through creative power. Posters for each store in the shopping district were created by volunteers from Dentsu Inc.'s Kansai branch. Following Shinsekai Market, the second installment featured Bunsato Shopping Street. 39 participants created 130 posters, while 60 participants produced over 200 posters. The posters' creativity and the social significance of revitalizing shopping streets drew coverage from various media outlets, making it a hot topic centered in Kansai. Now, about half a year after the poster exhibition ended, it's inexplicably trending again online.