
And it arrives: the long-awaited media request for proposal (RFP) hits our inbox. It starts with a humble request – registering on portals that feel more complex than applying for a trip on SpaceX.
Filled out the stack of forms? Check. Clauses you can vaguely understand but absolutely have to agree with? Check. All this before you even get sent the actual brief. Almost like going on a blind date – not sure if all that effort is going to be worth it.
So you do what you are told: register on platforms, sign terms and conditions even more elaborate than the Ambani wedding – all before a single brief has been shared. Occasionally, you’re even asked to agree to payment terms for work that hasn’t been awarded to you yet – but you do. Because without this, there’s no moving forward.
Then, the much-anticipated brief arrives. Sometimes, it’s a thing of beauty – well thought out and structured; the product of a marketing team who clearly understand the power of communication. Other times, it looks like it was written by an intern who works at the design department of DIY furniture store – here are lots of pieces scattered in different packets – good luck! Nevertheless, we rally.
One person in the agency bravely takes ownership, and soon becomes the most unpopular team member for weeks to come. A brainstorm follows – ideas are tossed around, there are some loud “Nahs”, but thankfully some even louder “Ahas”. Everyone seems to interpret things differently. Questions and clarifications are meant to be sent back to the client.
Responses are shared with all participating agencies because fairness is key, so that extremely intelligent question you asked that could lead to discovery. Now, everyone is privy to it. Occasionally, you’re thankful someone else asked the seemingly obvious thing you were ashamed to.
Then, the actual work begins. Long days that often turn into long nights. Timelines? Tight. Expectations? High. Pot noodles and crisps? Critical. And slowly but surely, through a combination of caffeine and utter panic, you produce a masterpiece. It’s strategic. It’s insightful. You’ve even discovered customer segments the client hadn’t thought of – surely we get extra points for that?
You hit send. Then you check your sent items or the portal to make sure it has actually gone. There is a collective sigh of relief. Lives go back to normal – well, at least whatever normal is in agency life. Eventually, the email arrives.
Sometimes it’s a polite “Thank you for your submission, unfortunately your proposal did not qualify on this occasion.” Other times, it’s a “Congratulations, you’ve been shortlisted. You will be invited to present in person on May 1.” No mention of why for either response, of course. The mystery is part of their charm.
And so begins the agency post-mortem. Was the insight too bold? Were we not out-of-the-box enough? Did we forget to swap slide 24 with slide 42? You speculate. You spiral. But eventually, you move on.
Now that you understand a pitch from the agency perspective, let me get to the point.
Agencies put a tremendous amount of effort into these pitches. We know it’s a competitive process. We’re not asking to win every time, just most of it. In all seriousness, what we are asking for – pleading for, and are deserving of – is feedback. Not the generic email that could have been written by someone junior in procurement. We’re talking about actual, useful and unfiltered feedback.
A paragraph, a sentence or even bullet points of what flew and what flopped – we’ll take it. Because feedback is how we get better. It’s how we understand your business priorities and your expectations.
It helps us sharpen what resonated and discard what didn’t make the cut.
Feedback is not about being diplomatic or polite. It’s about raising our standards. Feedback is what separates a transactional interaction from a professional partnership.
If you want better, more relevant, more evolved responses from agencies, feedback is your biggest flex. If you want an industry that’s constantly levelling up – start with real feedback.
In fact, if agencies were guaranteed meaningful feedback, we’d try even harder with every pitch. Because when you know someone’s going to take the time to thoughtfully respond, you’re far more inclined to up your game.
It’s a win-win, really. Brands get stronger ideas. Agencies get more innovative. And the marketing ecosytem elevates in totality.
So here’s my humble request; if you’re going to reject an agency, tell them why. If you’re going to move one forward to the second round, tell them why as well – they will fix what can be fixed in the interim.
Even a line or two is better than the deafening silence of client courtesy.
In the end, good feedback helps everyone – your brand included. Because better agencies do better work; better work makes better clients; and in the end, everyone wins – even if we lose that particular pitch.
By Raksha Khimji, Managing Director, Team Red Dot