All the news we could fit in print.
The transition from founder to former operator is one of the quieter rituals of the media business, though it rarely stays quiet for long.
The transition from founder to former operator is one of the quieter rituals of the media business, though it rarely stays quiet for long.
There was a time, not so long ago in Silicon Valley chronology, when a company announcing it would spend $195 billion on anything would have occasioned some alarm, or at least a few raised eyebrows in the financial press.
The financial services industry has spent decades trying to make credit cards seem like something other than credit cards.
The advertising industry, having spent decades debating whether a tree falling in a forest makes a sound, has now turned its attention to the more pressing question of whether a television commercial playing in an airport terminal is really a television commercial at all.
The old saw about all politics being local may soon apply with equal force to all advertising — or at least to advertising on Amazon.
The history of American advertising is, in part, the history of brands figuring out what to do with new screens.
In the advertising business, as in the rideshare business, the phrase "renewed relationship" can mean many things.
The company that once told Madison Avenue to keep its hands off the iPhone is now, ever so quietly, leaving the door ajar.
The announcement that an agency has given its chief creative officer more responsibility is one of those pieces of news that arrives with the regularity of the tides, and with approximately as much surprise.
The ancient art of guilting a friend into making a decision has now been industrialized.