Why Great Marketers Quit

Hey,

I don’t know how much time I have left in this industry.

And I say that not with resentment, but with love. I love this business. But sometimes it doesn’t love us back.

Lately, I’ve been reading the D&AD Copy Book from 2015 — a time capsule of craft. Some of the best in the game talking about what they do, without ego or fluff. Real advertising. Real writing. Real obsession.

None of them talk about awards. Or titles. Or promotions.
They talk about watching people buy toothpaste.
They talk about rewriting a headline 37 times.
They talk about loving what they do, because they do it non-stop.

That’s the curse and the charm of this business.
It’s not just a job. It’s an obsession.
Somewhere between art and science — and often misunderstood as both.

The Encyclopedia Kids

When I was a kid, I had stacks of encyclopedias. I’d read them over and over again, not to master any one subject, but to soak in everything. That same curiosity lives in marketers. We become part-time anthropologists. We dig into industries we never planned to touch. One week it’s floor tiles. The next, fintech.

I talked about this recently with my mentor Bobby. We both agreed: the magic is in the variety. The randomness. The mental gymnastics. You become a jack of all trades and master of none — and proud of it.

But lately, I’ve noticed something else.

The best people in the industry?
They’re tired. Or gone.

Why the Best Leave

Let’s stop pretending it’s about money, titles, or LinkedIn headlines.

It’s not.

People leave because they’re exhausted. Not just physically — mentally, emotionally, creatively.

They leave because the system is broken.

Because what this industry sells and what it rewards are two very different things.

Here’s why great marketers walk — even when they still love the work.

Creativity is killed by committees.

What starts as a bold idea quickly turns into a team-building exercise.
Everyone gets a say. No one takes a stand.

By the time it’s client-ready, the work is safe, soft, and forgettable.
Death by Slack thread. Death by Outlook feedback. Death by “Can we make it pop?”

We claim we want brave work — but we reward the people who never rock the boat.

✅ Fix: Protect creative autonomy. Reward sharp thinking, not corporate survival skills.

You’re always selling — even internally.

It’s not just clients you have to win over.
It’s the creative director. The strategist. The group head. The head of insights. The CEO. The intern’s cat.

Marketing used to be about ideas.
Now it’s about politics.

✅ Fix: Streamline decision-making. Let fewer people kill more ideas.

No one teaches anymore.

Agencies are full of juniors. The seniors either burned out or got promoted out of relevance.
There’s no time to mentor, no patience to teach, no space to grow.

The people who could teach are swamped.
The people who need to learn are drowning in deadlines.

✅ Fix: Build learning into the system. Make mentorship a KPI, not a nice-to-have.

The CMO Role

Now, imagine you’re a CMO.

You spent your whole career fighting for that title.

Here’s your reward:

• The average tenure for B2C CMOs? 4.0 years.

• For B2B? Slightly better — 4.5 years.

• In 2023, 22% of B2C CMOs were in their role for less than a year.

You tryhard for decades… and you stay five years, max.

That’s the game.

In Conclusion: Love It or Leave It?

There’s no cheat code for fixing this industry.

No magic deck. No perfect agency model.

But maybe that’s exactly why it’s still lovable.

Because at its core, advertising is just a bunch of curious, weird, creative people getting together to make cool stuff — and maybe, just maybe, sell a few more units while they’re at it.

We’re entertainers for the bored. Storytellers for the distracted.

We make content for people looking for something — anything — to feel.

And if you’re lucky, you get to do it surrounded by others who are just as obsessed as you.

So yeah, the job can be boring. It can be brutal. But it can also be fun.

And if you’re going to burn out anyway, at least burn for something you love.

Please. Love what you do. It makes everything easier.

Best,
Marti

P.S. I’m writing this in the middle of a massive agency pitch…

…and moonlighting on a Young Lions brief.

If this hit home, forward it to someone who needs a reminder:

Our work is crazy. And kind of amazing.