The Field Is Changing
Hassan Al-Ansari

A brick wall plastered with advertising posters, with a large hole broken clean through it
I've worked in advertising for more than 14 years. I've founded agencies, partnered in others, and watched generations come and go.
Today I'm seeing a fundamental shift that touches every side of the field: supply and demand, budgets and costs, delivery timelines, and even jobs and opportunities.
Unfortunately this is real, and this change isn't the first... and I'm certain it won't be the last.
This isn't the first time the field has gone through a change like this
It isn't the first time a shift has changed the way an agency works and the kind of talent and human resources it needs.
In the seventies and eighties, ads were made by the hands of illustrators and calligraphers. No Photoshop, no computers. Then came the computer, then Photoshop and Illustrator... and within a few years an entire profession disappeared. The illustrator who didn't evolve vanished, because a designer using software came along in his place.
The first collapse of the wall between human and machine
With the arrival of the computer, the gap began to narrow between manual talent such as drawing and calligraphy, and talent backed by a machine. The machine swallowed the craft: one person could now do work that used to require an entire team.
The specialist who owned nothing but a single manual craft became replaceable. The one who rose to the surface was the creative who could move between roles, because the tool had taken care of execution.
But this wall fell only partially, not completely
It's true that the machine merged the roles, but that merge stayed inside the boundaries of a single discipline. The designer could now do the work of the illustrator, the calligrapher, and the production artist, because all of it feeds into visual execution.
Yet he remained a designer. He never crossed into the world of the word, and no one asked him to write a single line of copy. The wall between "the one who designs" and "the one who writes" stayed standing.
Every specialization kept its larger boundaries, until something came along and tore them all down.
The wall falls completely
For the first time, the designer is no longer confined to the visual world. The designer writes. The writer designs. The wall that stood for decades between "the one who draws" and "the one who writes" collapsed in an instant. The designer asks the machine and it produces ad copy for him; the writer types a description and an image appears. There is no longer any protected specialization.
For the first time in the history of this profession, the boundaries between all roles, not just the visual ones, have actually begun to disappear.
Every time, the machine strikes the same points
If you look back at history, you'll notice that the arrival of the machine always struck three core points: speed, cost, and quality.
Work that took days by an illustrator's hand became hours. Cost dropped because one person did the job of a team. And quality, once the exclusive domain of the professional, came within reach of the beginner.
The same story is repeating today with artificial intelligence, only far faster and far deeper.
Artificial intelligence broke the triangle
For decades we lived under one law: you can pick only two out of three. Want it fast and good? It'll cost you. Want it cheap and good? It'll take time.
That law has broken.
Why did it break? Because the roles are now within everyone's reach. The designer writes, and the writer designs. When the barriers between disciplines fall, the wasted time and the extra cost fall with them. And you can get high quality, quickly, and at a lower cost.
Speed in particular has become the differentiator today. Whoever delivers faster, wins.
So what's left?
In the middle of all this demolition, there is one element the machine hasn't mastered "so far": the idea.
Artificial intelligence writes, designs, and executes at astonishing speed. But it doesn't know why. It doesn't understand cultural context, or the human moment, or the instinct that makes one idea land while another passes unnoticed. It's excellent at "how it's made," and still weak at "what deserves to be made, and why now."
Every technology that has passed through didn't replace the thinker; it replaced the executor. What remains is the owner of the idea, not the owner of the tool. Sharpen your mind before your tools: a tool is learned in days, but an idea is built through experience and research.
The mind that never stops developing is the one that stays out in front, no matter how the race changes.
Combine human intelligence with artificial intelligence, and you win
The thinker who refuses AI has an idea that is trapped and slow, outpaced by other people's ideas even when theirs are of lower quality. And whoever uses it without an idea gets results just like everyone else's. The one who remains is the one who combined both: a mind that thinks, and a machine that executes fast.
Artificial intelligence isn't going to take your job, but the creative who uses it is the one who will.
This isn't a battle of human against machine. It's a battle between a creative who has mastered the tool and a creative who was late to adopt it. Exactly like the illustrators who thought they were the backbone of the industry, right before someone who mastered Illustrator and Photoshop came along and took their work.
Why is all this happening so fast? Why now?
The economy is shifting, the budgets of organizations and companies are shrinking, and geopolitical tensions are reordering priorities. The client who used to spend now asks: how do I get the same quality at half the cost and half the time? And the agencies that want to survive are forced to adopt the machine to produce more, at a lower cost, and faster.
What makes the shift inevitable isn't only that the technology exists, but that the market gives no one the luxury of waiting. Whoever doesn't adapt gets overtaken by the market.
So the question isn't "should I learn artificial intelligence?" The question is: can I catch up before the field passes me by?
I've worked in advertising for more than 14 years. I've founded agencies, partnered in others, and watched generations come and go.
Today I'm seeing a fundamental shift that touches every side of the field: supply and demand, budgets and costs, delivery timelines, and even jobs and opportunities.
Unfortunately this is real, and this change isn't the first... and I'm certain it won't be the last.
This isn't the first time the field has gone through a change like this
It isn't the first time a shift has changed the way an agency works and the kind of talent and human resources it needs.
In the seventies and eighties, ads were made by the hands of illustrators and calligraphers. No Photoshop, no computers. Then came the computer, then Photoshop and Illustrator... and within a few years an entire profession disappeared. The illustrator who didn't evolve vanished, because a designer using software came along in his place.
The first collapse of the wall between human and machine
With the arrival of the computer, the gap began to narrow between manual talent such as drawing and calligraphy, and talent backed by a machine. The machine swallowed the craft: one person could now do work that used to require an entire team.
The specialist who owned nothing but a single manual craft became replaceable. The one who rose to the surface was the creative who could move between roles, because the tool had taken care of execution.
But this wall fell only partially, not completely
It's true that the machine merged the roles, but that merge stayed inside the boundaries of a single discipline. The designer could now do the work of the illustrator, the calligrapher, and the production artist, because all of it feeds into visual execution.
Yet he remained a designer. He never crossed into the world of the word, and no one asked him to write a single line of copy. The wall between "the one who designs" and "the one who writes" stayed standing.
Every specialization kept its larger boundaries, until something came along and tore them all down.
The wall falls completely
For the first time, the designer is no longer confined to the visual world. The designer writes. The writer designs. The wall that stood for decades between "the one who draws" and "the one who writes" collapsed in an instant. The designer asks the machine and it produces ad copy for him; the writer types a description and an image appears. There is no longer any protected specialization.
For the first time in the history of this profession, the boundaries between all roles, not just the visual ones, have actually begun to disappear.
Every time, the machine strikes the same points
If you look back at history, you'll notice that the arrival of the machine always struck three core points: speed, cost, and quality.
Work that took days by an illustrator's hand became hours. Cost dropped because one person did the job of a team. And quality, once the exclusive domain of the professional, came within reach of the beginner.
The same story is repeating today with artificial intelligence, only far faster and far deeper.
Artificial intelligence broke the triangle
For decades we lived under one law: you can pick only two out of three. Want it fast and good? It'll cost you. Want it cheap and good? It'll take time.
That law has broken.
Why did it break? Because the roles are now within everyone's reach. The designer writes, and the writer designs. When the barriers between disciplines fall, the wasted time and the extra cost fall with them. And you can get high quality, quickly, and at a lower cost.
Speed in particular has become the differentiator today. Whoever delivers faster, wins.
So what's left?
In the middle of all this demolition, there is one element the machine hasn't mastered "so far": the idea.
Artificial intelligence writes, designs, and executes at astonishing speed. But it doesn't know why. It doesn't understand cultural context, or the human moment, or the instinct that makes one idea land while another passes unnoticed. It's excellent at "how it's made," and still weak at "what deserves to be made, and why now."
Every technology that has passed through didn't replace the thinker; it replaced the executor. What remains is the owner of the idea, not the owner of the tool. Sharpen your mind before your tools: a tool is learned in days, but an idea is built through experience and research.
The mind that never stops developing is the one that stays out in front, no matter how the race changes.
Combine human intelligence with artificial intelligence, and you win
The thinker who refuses AI has an idea that is trapped and slow, outpaced by other people's ideas even when theirs are of lower quality. And whoever uses it without an idea gets results just like everyone else's. The one who remains is the one who combined both: a mind that thinks, and a machine that executes fast.
Artificial intelligence isn't going to take your job, but the creative who uses it is the one who will.
This isn't a battle of human against machine. It's a battle between a creative who has mastered the tool and a creative who was late to adopt it. Exactly like the illustrators who thought they were the backbone of the industry, right before someone who mastered Illustrator and Photoshop came along and took their work.
Why is all this happening so fast? Why now?
The economy is shifting, the budgets of organizations and companies are shrinking, and geopolitical tensions are reordering priorities. The client who used to spend now asks: how do I get the same quality at half the cost and half the time? And the agencies that want to survive are forced to adopt the machine to produce more, at a lower cost, and faster.
What makes the shift inevitable isn't only that the technology exists, but that the market gives no one the luxury of waiting. Whoever doesn't adapt gets overtaken by the market.
So the question isn't "should I learn artificial intelligence?" The question is: can I catch up before the field passes me by?


