The advertising industry has always been fond of executives who can survive the disappearance of their agencies, and Tyler Turnbull has now demonstrated that particular skill twice in rapid succession.
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By StuAIrt Elliott
· October 9, 2026
The advertising industry has always been fond of executives who can survive the disappearance of their agencies, and Tyler Turnbull has now demonstrated that particular skill twice in rapid succession.
The marriage of television advertising and instant commerce has been anticipated for so long that one might be forgiven for assuming it had already happened.
The annual budget review has long been a kind of theater on Madison Avenue and in corporate marketing departments everywhere, with each discipline arriving prepared to justify its existence in the language finance people understand.
It is a truth universally acknowledged in the direct-to-consumer sector that a brand in possession of a good product must eventually be in want of differentiation from the dozens of competitors who copied it.
There was a time, not so long ago, when the billboard was regarded on Madison Avenue with roughly the same enthusiasm that record executives reserve for the cassette tape.
There is a certain irony in watching independent advertising agencies — shops that have long marketed themselves on the basis of not being part of something larger — decide that perhaps being part of something larger has its advantages after all.
The spectacle of Madison Avenue explaining that it has everything under control has been a reliable feature of the business since someone first had to reassure a client that television would not corrupt the youth.
NEW YORK — There was a time, not so long ago, when the phrase "experiential marketing" conjured images of branded tents at music festivals and sampling programs in grocery store parking lots.
