So is a conspiracy against interruption. While the industry obsesses over clever headlines and viral moments, So understands a deeper truth: people don't want to be marketed to, they want to be understood.
Brands need to earn the right to matter in someone's day. To become worth seeking out, worth talking about, worth caring about. We don’t want to interrupt someone's story, we want to be part of it.
The paradox of experience
We have learned something arcane in our impatient world: the wisdom that comes from watching the wheel turn.
Thirty years in advertising means we've seen the rise and fall of countless 'revolutionary' platforms, witnessed the breathless excitement over tactics that promised to change everything, and observed the quiet truth that human nature remains beautifully, stubbornly constant.
We've learnt to distinguish between the noise of innovation and the signal of genuine connection.
We understand that every brief contains the seeds of something unprecedented, not because the tools have changed, but because the specific constellation of human needs, cultural moments, and brand possibilities has never existed before.
This is the paradox of experience: the more you know, the more you realise how much you don't. Which gives us the rare ability to hold two contradictory truths simultaneously: that most advertising is forgettable noise, and that the right message, delivered with permission and empathy, can change someone's day, or even their life.
(Us)
Recoginition
Recognition is a peculiar thing. We chase being known when what matters is creating work that becomes known.
The paradox of meaningful work is this: when you create something worthy of the Tate Modern or the German Museum of Modern Art, when Harvard builds case studies around your thinking, when the New York Times puts your work on Page 6 repeatedly - the work transcends you.
It lives in conversations on radio stations you'll never hear, debated by people who couldn't pick you out of a lineup.
This is the highest form of cultural contribution. Your ideas ripple outward, shaping how others think and act, long after you've moved on to the next project.
The stranger who implements your framework, the executive who quotes your principle without attribution, the artist inspired by your exhibition - they carry your work forward without needing to carry your name.
The ego wants recognition. The craftsperson wants resonance. When you choose resonance, you build something that outlasts your business card. You create change that doesn't require your presence to persist.
Being known is temporary.
Creating something worth knowing is permanent.