In the quest for creativity, how many of you have found yourself staring at a blank page on a screen, longing for that elusive spark of inspiration.
Best practices. Two words that sound harmless enough, don’t they? Like a warm cup of tea or a neatly trimmed garden. But let’s be honest—they’re the marketing world’s favourite excuse for playing it safe. “Oh, it’s best practice,” someone chirps, and suddenly the room nods in unison, as if mediocrity has just been knighted. It’s the siren call of comfort zones everywhere, and it’s dragging brands into a sea of beige.

Here’s the problem. Best practices are nothing more than an echo chamber. They reward sameness, applauding ideas that are so overdone they’re practically antiques by the time they hit a client’s inbox. Every email subject line: “Don’t miss out!” Every bloody advert: “Celebrating diversity” (with the same stock image of a high-five). Every TikTok trend: the same knock-off banter that’s already yesterday’s news.

It’s death by a thousand clichés, and it’s sucking the soul out of creativity.

What we need to do—what brands have to do if they want to survive—is embrace chaos. That might sound messy, but messiness is where the magic happens. Chaos isn’t just a buzzword; it’s the antidote to everything that’s predictable and bland. It’s what happens when you throw away the formula, scrap the mood board, and ask yourself: “What’s the one thing our industry is too scared to say?”

You know what people hate about advertising? Most of it. They hate the fakery, the cringe-worthy earnestness, the relentless sense that brands are trying to be their mate. They hate the jargon, the gimmicks, the way every campaign feels like a regurgitated version of something they saw last month.

So why not start there? Start with the grievances, the eye-rolls, the deep sighs that come from enduring another lifeless campaign. And then do the opposite. Say the unsayable. Show them something real, something they’ll actually give a damn about.

Take Nike’s Colin Kaepernick ad. That wasn’t some watered-down, focus-group-approved nonsense. It was brave, divisive, unapologetic. People burned their trainers on Instagram, for crying out loud. But it also made millions of others feel like Nike stood for something bigger than profit margins. And the result? Nike wasn’t just part of the conversation—they were the conversation. That’s the kind of cultural resonance you can’t buy with a “best practice” checklist.

Or Burger King and their mouldy Whopper. Disgusting? Yes. But forgettable? Absolutely not. That campaign flipped the entire fast-food narrative on its head. While everyone else was shouting about how great their food looks, Burger King said, “Look how gross ours gets, because it’s real.” It was bold. It was risky. It was chaos. And it worked.

This is what happens when you stop pandering to comfort zones and start leaning into discomfort. Chaos doesn’t just break the rules; it burns them and throws the ashes into the wind. It forces your team to stop thinking about what’s safe and start thinking about what’s true. And that’s where the real power lies: in the moments that feel raw, unpolished, and a little dangerous.

Let’s be clear—this isn’t about anarchy for its own sake. Chaos isn’t throwing ideas at the wall and praying something sticks. It’s about creating a space where you can challenge the status quo, where wild ideas aren’t shut down because they don’t tick the right boxes. It’s about trusting your gut over the algorithm and betting on humanity’s innate love for something bold, unexpected, and deeply authentic.

The truth is, your audience isn’t sitting around reading case studies about best practices. They don’t care that your campaign followed the rules. They care about how it made them feel. Did it shock them, entertain them, make them laugh, cry, or text their mate about it? If the answer’s no, you’ve failed.

So, stop playing it safe. Stop obsessing over benchmarks and formulas and whatever the hell your competitor is doing. Best practices are a creative cop-out, a way to avoid the hard work of actually thinking. They might get you through a presentation unscathed, but they won’t get you noticed.

The brands that win are the ones that dare to go where others won’t. They’re the ones that make us uncomfortable, that make us think, that make us feel. It’s not easy—it never is. But if you want to make work that matters, if you want to build campaigns that leave a mark, then best practices aren’t your ally.

Chaos is.