If you work in this business it helps to understand that your job is to sell the client's product. So, what if the client's product isn't exactly something you like?

I remember a day, early in my career, when I was young and naive and on staff at a large agency. On this particular day management had gathered the troops to screen the agency reel for a kind of "aren't we wonderful" morale boost. As the lights dimmed and a huge screen came down, the hushed crowd gazed at beautifully shot spots for Hallmark and Kraft with images of puppies and children and marshmallows seductively blended with seamless editing and incredibly composed music. The lights come back up and after a rousing hand the erudite CEO, pipe in hand, takes the stage and opens the floor for questions. I'm not sure what possessed me, but perhaps after listening to insipid questions like,"Gee, how'd you get that cute puppy to lick the little girl's face," I decide to take advantage of this unexpected opportunity to "Ask The Big Cheese" and probe deeper. I raise my hand and, after what seems like forever, The Cheese nods in my direction...

"Do you have any reservations about advertising a product like marshmallows, which is all refined sugar with about zero nutritional value, and targeting mothers and their young children?"

As if a party guest had just knocked over the host's best crystal vase, a sudden uncomfortable silence fills the room. A few curious heads turn to see which of their co-workers is so bold, or stupid, to put the CEO on the spot in front of his entire staff. The CEO calmly pauses, takes a few slow puffs on his pipe, and with words measured as if he were on trial, responds:

"It is my belief that it's the government's role to decide which products should or shouldn't be advertised. And, as long as the product is legal, I believe it's the agency's hired responsibility to do the best job possible to advertise its clients' products."

I suddenly have visions of the corporate Gestapo quickly escorting me out of the room and beating me senseless. As the days pass I never second guess the legitimacy of my question, I just second guess the timing of it. I also wonder how much it effected my termination several months later.

---

A writer buddy of mine is one of the most talented in the business. The guy's amazing. After moving around a bit he settled into a high level, well-paying job at a huge agency. It didnˆt seem that long ago that my writer buddy and I sat around talking about the advertising hacks who sell out for the money to do the dreck we both hated. Now heˆs got a couple of young kids and a nice home in a fancy neighborhood. When I called to catch up I sensed a slight tone of resignation. He told me heˆs working on a battery account which features a fictitious family called "The Putterman's." The Putterman's could only be described as a plastic-coated, alien-looking, TV family-from-hell, with giant batteries fused to their spines. The spots consisted of bad sitcom-like shenanigans. Now, with a family and mortgage, it seemed my friend had new priorities. Before our chat concluded he shared what seemed like an attempt at vindication: When the 5-year olds at his daughter's birthday party heard he was the guy who did The Putterman's they all wanted his autograph.

During my career I've had to work on some challenging assignments (infant anal thermometers comes to mind) but never anything I've really had a problem with. I have been involved with a few products that seemed a bit, shall we say, questionable. One client -- a maker of homeopathic remedies for everything from sore throats to PMS -- explained how some people actually used these remedies on their pets. "PMS pills for dogs?" I asked in jest. "Sure," the client replied without a beat.

On two separate occasions I had to struggle to keep a straight face while being briefed about toilet seat products. One was some kind of electronic toilet. The other was a designer seat that was also being pitched as a new media venue. Advertisers could print their ad right on the toilet seat cover. I realize that all careers have there tough times and as I sat in those meetings, focusing on toilets, it was not easy to ignore the metaphor regarding the direction I felt my career was headed.

---

Obviously, enough agency people just see it as a job they're paid (often quite well) to do. Like most things, ethics is a matter of perspective. For example, while teaching my class at The School of Visual Arts, a student failed to bring in his assignment which was an ad for ACME Roach Traps. When I asked why the young man informed me that he had a problem with the assignment.

"A problem?" I asked.

"Uh yeah. Like, I just don't think it's cool to be killin' things, man" he replied.

---

Thirteen years after my "marshmallow incident" I find myself power-lunching with the (now ex) CEO to whom I addressed my probing question. When I bring up the incident he confesses to a lack of recollection. Prefacing it with how young and stupid I was, I replay the scenario:

"Hmmm, so what did I answer?" he asks sincerely. I tell him.

With hardly a pause the ex-CEO speaks in a soft but certain manner:

"I think my answer would be different today."

He goes on to say how he now believes that we all must be willing to accept more social responsibility for the decisions we make in business. After 13 years I feel vindicated. A year later, I notice a blurb in the trades about my converted CEO pal. It's an obituary.