refined. When Khai declared, “Give me gold!”, our creative teams across the world responded with work that set a higher bar. Creative awards are a dangerous thing in our business. They only represent excellence inasmuch as the juries who decide them can recognize it, or, in the politics that go with jury service, are prepared to reward it. David Ogilvy did not feel comfortable with them, although he was not alone in enjoying the lustre they brought. But by the early part of this century, three things had changed since he received the Clio shown in this picture. First, the clients themselves had started attending Cannes in droves, attracted in a brilliantly successful strategy by the owners. It started with Procter & Gamble; and then the rest followed. For those clients, it became of a way of improving their own creativity, which in turn helped them achieve competitive advantage. David was sometimes enamoured and often sceptical of advertising awards, and rightly so. In the years since his wins creative award shows have become big business. Individual clients come and go, but collectively they changed Cannes from something self-indulgent into something more missionary, concerned with the value of creativity in business. The categories for entry expanded into effectiveness,