were headed by bastards and phonies. One of the most agreeable things about running an agency is that all your accounts are in different industries. In the morning you discuss the problems and opportunities of a client who makes soap. In the afternoon it is a bank, or an airline, or a manufacturer of medicines. But you pay a price for this variety. Every time you see a client, you have to be sufficiently briefed on his business to give relevant advice. When I was the chief executive of my agency, I always took home two briefcases, and spent four hours reading their contents. Not much fun for my wife. Next to homework, my worst enemy was the telephone. I was usually 25 return calls behind. When you are appointed to head an office in the Ogilvy & Mather chain, I send you one of these Russian dolls. Inside the smallest you will find this message: ‘If each of us hires people who are smaller than we are, we shall become a company of dwarfs, but if each of us hires people who are bigger than we are, Ogilvy & Mather will become a company of giants.’ Agencies are breeding-grounds for sibling rivalry. Will Cadwallader get a corner office before Balfour? Why did you invite Pennypacker to lunch instead of Morgan? Why was Sidebottom made a Vice-President before Winterbottom? The agency I know best has two Chairmen, three Presidents, two Managing Directors, eight Executive Vice-Presidents, 67 Senior Vice-Presidents and 249 Vice-Presidents. You might suppose that nobody would take such nonsense seriously, but they do. Giving out the titles reminds me of Louis XIV: ‘Every time I give someone a title, I make a hundred people angry and one person ungrateful.’ What can you do to keep sibling rivalry under control? You can be fair, and you can avoid playing favorites. Said Dr. William Menninger: