I. Not a design firm
frog was usually mistaken for a design firm.
Even frogs struggled hard to define frog
because we were not a family,
although we bonded together like one.
We were not an agency,
although we billed our time.
And we were not a consultancy,
even though we gave advice.
We were not a think-tank either
because we also built stuff,
but neither a workshop
because there was more to it than the craft.
We were not a school, nor a museum
even when we taught, learnt
and safeguarded historial artifacts.
frog was neither a commercial brand or label.
Because there was not frog without frogs.
We were also not a cult — despite the suspicions– because the stories we passed along weren’t dogma. The giants before us were never gods, only good examples. And there were no holy books or a divine “frog way”.
Looking back, I think frog was more like a monastery.
II. Monastery
A monastery for the study of the human experience.
The temple — our studios — a physical space for reflection, work and community.
The dharma — our disciplines of design, technology, strategy and program (project) management.
The service — the commitment to care for and work to solve problems that transcended our personal lives.
Our rituals — shared moments to ground ourselves, connect, and share with others.
Our mantras — Form follows emotion and Make Your Mark, full of practical meaning.
Our teachers — stewards of the temple. Mindful and compassionate seniors that cared for their students through guidance, support and challenges to deepen the practice.
Our common search — to understand and improve the human experience.
“Creative Agency” was just the way to keep it going.
The best business model the monastery could find.
Slightly profitable, barely sustainable.
It was never perfect, but it worked beautifully.
We held each other accountable to the highest standards,
as if we worked for something bigger than ourselves.
Not for money, power or status
but the chance to be a frog.
ribbit!
III. When they took over
When they took over the monastery rapidly started to decline.
The monks, replaced by power-hungry clueless administrators,
and the common search replaced by rampant ambition.
frogs were labeled as ignorant hippies, hopeless romantics and infantile dreamers and were asked to be more “aggressive” and cold-blooded.
Confusion and fear, then cuts.
Some of us struggled… others disassociated.
The fewer that played along got awarded with trophies.
Some of the temples were closed down.
Others were taken over, grossly rebranded.
The teachers were slaughtered by a thousand paper cuts
(figuratively speaking, obviously).
“A new era” is what we called it.
To cope.
And as the sense of community dissolved,
a sense of self preservation took over.
IV. Just a job
It was just a job.
No it wasn’t.
Or was it?
I am still not entirely sure.
You don’t hear a lot of people describe jobs this way…
at least not sane people, right?
Were we… insane?
No. We were in love.
With the mission, the disciplines, the work, the people, the stories, the aspirations, the studio spaces, the ideas, the results, the clients, the new technologies, design, the craft.
The loss has been different for all of us,
but we’ve shared one thing:
the heartbreak.
At some point, all the frogs who I’ve talked to have described leaving in those terms. Not just burnt out, heartbroken.
We didn’t leave because work was hard, nights were long or business was tough. One leaves when there’s no reason left to stay.
Maybe in the end we were truly “ignorant hippies”, “hopeless romantics” and “infantile dreamers”…
…In the best of ways. And that’s exactly what made it work.
V. Once a frog, always a frog
Writing this took about a year.
Trying to understand why it hit me so deeply.
I share it with deep respect of whatever's left.
And with a sense of acceptance.
Because I finally understand that the search is not over.
That the learnigs are carried over.
And that nobody actually died.
Whatever happened will live on history books
(or probably just a fastco report)
of another failed design firm acquisition.
And the heartbreak
eventually goes away.
Making space.
For the new.
