Whatever Happened to "Voice"?

I'd like to ask a "big picture" question - Why are we all sounding alike?

Take a script - any script - from a local promo and, with few exceptions, it'll work just as well on someone else's air, including the competition's. "Voice", that singular product of each writer's individual substance and style, is disappearing.

What the hell are we writers doing to ourselves? Have we commoditized what we have to offer? Or has the "skill" side of our jobs (literally, the technique we employ to get the job done in a create-on-demand world) slowly crept into the creativity side so as to undercut it?

I have a few theories...

1. The "Learned Behavior" Theory
We get to the table through talent. Someone - be it a professor, a mentor, a person you interned under - discovers you have an ability to put words together. As John Adams reportedly said of Thomas Jefferson, "you possess a happy talent for composition and a remarkable felicity of expression." So, someone suggests you write for a living.

Natural talent, however, isn't going to get you through alone - on that note, I will not quibble. There are elements of style you need to be aware of, tricks that work, a certain level of vernacular and vocabulary that you have to work within, etc. To learn this stuff, you apprentice under someone, you spend time as a PA or an Associate, or, if you're lucky enough, you get sent to a few seminars. After, you start putting what you learned to practice, refining the tricks you've learned. For most of us, this period of learning can take some considerable amount of time.

What frightens me is the probability that some writers subject their "voice" - the basic talent that got them in a place to write in the first place - to the rigors of their new learned behavior.

I don't object to learning all that stuff. I did, and I was better off for it. (In fact, I share the basics techniques I learned with every intern who I mentor in writing, and it works for them, too.) The key is to know how to internalize the essentials and get back to the "voice" you naturally have. It's similar to how good Shakespearean actors treat iambic pentameter - they learn it, and then they forget it. It has its place, but getting in the way of you connecting with the work is not that place.

2. Stresses of the Create-On-Demand Culture
It sucks to crank stuff out all the time. Creative rhythm really isn't designed for all that output. When we push the limits like we do, we get very uneven in our performance and our quality.

The business isn't going to change in this regard, though, so whining about it is really pointless (and yes, I recognize I just did).

Creating as a business function is stressful, nonetheless. When you are creating as a critical function - as I believe promotion is (it drives demand, functions rarely get more important) - it is even more stressful. Under these conditions, it is easy to cut corners.

In the case of writing, cutting corners can take the shape of relying on technique. You know the right words to slip into a script. You've got some time-tested phrases you can toss in. "Aw, hell, let's find a way to work in more of the slogan."

3. Competitive Pressures
Got a strong competitor in your market? Dominant competitor at that? Well, then you have a whole set of issues to deal with in terms of protecting your voice.

In the rush to keep up or stay competitive, it's very tempting to "borrow" (read: steal) someone else's style. Lift a phrase, lift a hook - Ah, I'm repeating myself. Check the archive for "The Amen Break and Creative Work."

Or, maybe you have an uglier issue. Upper management - the people who control your paycheck - may be sending you a signal that they want you to sound like someone else. I know, for a fact, that some writers - good writers, at that - have been forced to replicate someone else's copy at the behest of managers. That's just plain sad.

In a situation like that, well - Let's just say it's easy for me to admonish you. It's another thing entirely to put your job in jeopardy.

Implications
The thing that really troubles me about all of this - apart from the impact on the creative - is the impact it has on business. A product without a distinctive "voice" attached to it is a product lacking a distinguishing feature.

Think of the advertisers / companies who have developed a definite "voice". Apple has a distinctive superiority to its "voice", across the board.



VW, although it's changed vocabulary a few times, has a pretty clear "voice".



Bud Light has a clear - admittedly juvenile - "voice".



Spike TV has a clear "voice", dripping with testosterone.



And who's giving these products "voice"? People no different than those of us who work in the broadcast field. The only, real differences are that we lack huge budgets and, in our case, the client is also the boss. Oh, right, and they spend a lot more time thinking about what they're saying and doing.

Why, then, are we missing the importance of "voice"? I'm no Chicken Little - I think the television business has a lot of years left in it. Yet, there's no denying that the industry is in a tizzy over how to move into the future.

At a time like this, "voice" is critically important. "Voice" catches people's attention. "Voice" is memorable. "Voice" is distinguishable, a lot more so than empty phrases we copy and paste together into scripts.

This is a reality we all need to understand - management included. Doing the same old thing hasn't helped, it's only accelerated the erosion of audience.

Get back to your "voice" and put it in the service of your product. All this technique has gotten out of hand.