Professional Copywriters Wanted

Some of my best friends are professional copywriters.

When I say “friends” I’m using the word in the way a copywriter would. I don’t really mean it.

H.G. Wells said copywriting was “legalised lying.”

George Santayana said that it was “the modern substitute for argument; its function is to make the worse appear better.”

Mark Twain said that “many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of copywriting.”

Stephen B. Leacock said that copywriting “may be described as the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get money from it.”

P.J. O’Rourke claimed that the job of copywriter was worse than matrimony: “Even the most capricious and demanding spouse is not going to divorce you for refusing to spend forty hours a week making up lies about toilet paper.”

Writers, philosophers and humourists have never had much time for their copywriter cousins.

Still, they are a necessary evil.

Who else would make up the words emblazoned on the sides of buses? A professional copywriter got paid handsomely for that £350 million claim.

Who else could come up with the immortal line, Leeds: Motorway City of the Seventies? Look how well that turned out.

And, more recently, let’s not forget “Vibrant” and “Iconic”, our local Leeds version of “Strong and Stable.” These words are everywhere, plastered on every billboard, applied to every new development, tacked on to every press release for the latest bar/shop/artisan coffee grinder going.

I once saw Armley referred to as “vibrant”.

It was in the window of the estate agents opposite Mike’s Carpets. Admittedly, it was after Mike had been granted all that cash to make his shop presentable.

If ever there was an appropriate use of the word “vibrant” it would be to describe Mike’s face after he’d pocketed the Heritage Lottery funding.

He’s also been referred to as “iconic”. My guess is that’s Yorkshire rhyming slang.

Whenever I see the words “Vibrant” and “Iconic” I want to fetch a washing line, a wooden chair, half a gallon of Esso Unleaded, and stab the play button for Gerry Rafferty’s “Stuck in the Middle With You.”

“Vibrant” makes me madder than Mr Blond in Reservoir Dogs.

It’s the sort of word only a professional copywriter would use.

If I was on the interview panel to find a copywriter for the Leeds Bid to be European Capital of Culture 2023 the first question I’d ask would be, “Are you now, are have you ever been, a user of the word Vibrant? Are you an Iconic sympathiser?”

Of course, I won’t be on any such panel. Vibrant will no doubt be in there, lots of it, vibrant communities and vibrant cultural organisations all vibrating with vibrancy to a vibrant Leeds beat. Vibrant may very well be the title of the bid. That wouldn’t surprise me. Alongside a picture of Bridgewater Place taken at an unlikely angle suggesting your phone took a snap accidentally as the wind knocked you off your feet. Iconically.

But couldn’t we do better? I hope so.

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