I’ve been a regular reader of Gregg Easterbrook’s TMQ column for years, despite my casual (to say the least) relationship with the NFL. Recently, he made an observation about analytics that perfectly crystallizes a parallel transformation in marketing:

“TMQ started pounding the table about going for it more often in 2006, when the term analytics was unknown in sports. […] Analytics has gotten out of hand in football, and analytics does not like field goals. You must go for it to be a mensch in analytics. Twenty years ago, NFL coaches didn’t go for it enough. Now they may go for it too much, at least in situations where a field goal attempt beckons.”

The pendulum swing he describes in football strategy mirrors marketing’s own algorithmic revolution. We’ve wandered from the intuitive artistry of Mad Men to the cold precision of data scientists, replacing martini lunches with regression analyses.

Here’s the paradox: analytics are indispensable, yet they’ve become a refuge where creativity goes to hibernate. We’ve developed an almost religious faith in A/B testing, as if running enough experiments will somehow spontaneously generate brilliance. But marketing strategy isn’t emergent—it requires a coherent vision, a point of view that transcends the sum of our data points.

You can’t reverse-engineer inspiration from a thousand split tests any more than you can compose a symphony by analyzing hit songs. The result? Our industry has traded boldness for bureaucracy, producing work that’s statistically sound but spiritually empty.

The pendulum, I suspect, is primed for its return journey. Not back to the blind intuition of marketing’s golden age, but toward a more nuanced synthesis. Because while data can optimize execution, it can’t replace imagination. And in a world drowning in algorithmic mediocrity, boring marketing isn’t just bad marketing—it’s invisible.