The storm shall pass
One of the many benefits of getting older is understanding that storms always pass. We're in the middle of one right now. Economic gloom and low business confidence. A government that keeps rocking the boat. A glorious summer of heatwaves and long holidays with people out of office. People tightening their belts. All while AI disrupts the creative sector like never before. It's fair to say this is one of the worst storms I've seen. And yet, despite the thunder and gales, I have every faith things will turn around.
If you're one of the many creative people suffering right now and wondering if you have any career left at all, know you are not alone. This is a universal problem. I'm hearing it from all corners of the sector. Illustrators seem to be suffering the most. As are those I know and love in photography and fashion. Designers are feeling it too. Clients are simply not replying to emails. Ghosting is the new norm. Projects have been put on hold or disappeared entirely.
Ok, so this sounds depressing. And it is. But I'm an optimist. I genuinely think that while our industry is undergoing profound change, a new golden era of creativity is on the horizon. I can see patches of blue sky amongst the grey, and I want to explain why. Because I think many of us need something to hold on to.
Why I'm hopeful
First, I've been here before. I launched Creative Boom in the aftermath of the last financial crisis, when everyone told me it was madness to start anything. The freelancers who felt abandoned by the industry back then went on to enjoy over a decade of good times.
Downturns always feel worse than they are. Budgets aren't deleted; they're deferred. Somewhere in every silent client's spreadsheet is a pot of money that still has to be spent, and work that still has to be done.
Secondly, and this is the bit I find really exciting: AI is flooding the world with “sameness”. The same polished and faintly hollow output, everywhere, all at once. And when everything looks the same, the human stuff becomes the premium. Taste. Judgement. A wonky line that could only have come from one person's hand. A point of view. These are the things clients cannot generate, and I believe they'll pay a proper price for them once the novelty wears off and the mediocrity becomes obvious. It's already happening. Some brands are increasingly proud to say their work was made by actual people, much like food packaging that boasts about being organic and free-range. Give it a year or two, and "made by humans" will be a big selling point.
And third, the creatives I know who are still busy have one thing in common: people buy them, not just their portfolio. They've built direct relationships with their audience and their clients. Nobody can ghost their way out of a genuine connection. That's a skill any of us can work on, starting today.
What to do while it blows through
If you're out in the hills and a storm blows in, you find shelter and endure it. It helps to have the right equipment, of course. But if you've discovered you're not fully prepared, you can take steps now to do better next time. That means working on your branding, marketing, and website. Refining your offering. Spotting new ways to sell what you do. What are clients' pain points these days, and how can you be the one to fix them?
Use the quiet to your advantage. Ring the clients you actually like, with no agenda beyond hello. Update the portfolio you've been ignoring since 2020. Make something for yourself, the thing you never have time for when you're busy, because self-initiated work has a funny habit of attracting the commissions you actually want. And rest. Seriously. When the enquiries come back, and they will, you'll want to meet them fresh rather than frazzled.
Anyone who's sat out bad weather in a tent knows the weird bit at the end: the drumming rain stops, you unzip the door, and the light is better than it was before the storm rolled in. That's what's coming. Sharper fresh air, views across the horizon, and a lot of us stepping out at the same time, blinking, ready to make things again. Hold on. See you on the other side.