When I was brought in, eBay Enterprise had already decided to shut down the affiliate advertising and creative production department. Most of the staff had been let go, the unit wasn't profitable, and the work across 30-plus mid-market and enterprise clients had drifted into inconsistency. Leadership asked me one question: can this be saved? I said yes.
That was the assignment. Not optimize a working operation, but rebuild one from the ground up while the business was still deciding whether to keep it.
I started by getting inside the problem instead of assessing it from above: the actual work, the actual breakdowns, the actual people still standing. Most of what had been called a creative problem turned out to be a systems problem. Ad-hoc workflows, quality standards nobody had written down, QA that reacted instead of preventing. The craft was fine. The clarity wasn't.
I rebuilt it around three decisions. One standard that held across every brand we touched, so the output stopped looking like thirty different shops. Workflows built to reach a good answer fast rather than a perfect one never, which is the only way to survive production turnarounds. And an offshore design team out of Costa Rica I'd worked with before and trusted, which grew past 20 people and became the engine of the whole operation rather than a vendor we handed things to.
I ran creative direction for display, web and interactive advertising across the full portfolio while managing and mentoring that team day to day. Within a fairly short window the unit was profitable, and shipping at a standard the company hadn't seen from it before.
What I took from it: most creative messes are conviction problems before they're clarity problems. If nobody believes the thing can be saved, no system will save it. Somebody has to say yes, and then build the thing that proves it.
When I was brought in, eBay Enterprise had already decided to shut down the affiliate advertising and creative production department. Most of the staff had been let go, the unit wasn't profitable, and the work across 30-plus mid-market and enterprise clients had drifted into inconsistency. Leadership asked me one question: can this be saved? I said yes.
That was the assignment. Not optimize a working operation, but rebuild one from the ground up while the business was still deciding whether to keep it.
I started by getting inside the problem instead of assessing it from above: the actual work, the actual breakdowns, the actual people still standing. Most of what had been called a creative problem turned out to be a systems problem. Ad-hoc workflows, quality standards nobody had written down, QA that reacted instead of preventing. The craft was fine. The clarity wasn't.
I rebuilt it around three decisions. One standard that held across every brand we touched, so the output stopped looking like thirty different shops. Workflows built to reach a good answer fast rather than a perfect one never, which is the only way to survive production turnarounds. And an offshore design team out of Costa Rica I'd worked with before and trusted, which grew past 20 people and became the engine of the whole operation rather than a vendor we handed things to.
I ran creative direction for display, web and interactive advertising across the full portfolio while managing and mentoring that team day to day. Within a fairly short window the unit was profitable, and shipping at a standard the company hadn't seen from it before.
What I took from it: most creative messes are conviction problems before they're clarity problems. If nobody believes the thing can be saved, no system will save it. Somebody has to say yes, and then build the thing that proves it.