![Two people stand in front of a large "WE [heart] PITCHING" sculpture in a lively city plaza. This scene, featured in We Love Pitching Part 1, captures the creative buzz highlighted by Stash Media’s guest editorial. Frame from Stash Magazine article.](https://www.stashmedia.tv/wp-content/uploads/We-Love-Pitching-Part-1-Guest-editorial-by-Claus-Cibilis-_-STASH-MAGAZINE-960x540.jpg)
In part 2 of his deep dive into the messy, contentious, (some would say broken) world of competitive creative pitches, Nerdo ECD Claus Cibils examines how pitching works and how it can work better.
From birth, we adapt in life, work, love, and everything in between. In pitching, survival mode kicks in before the game begins. Adaptation is constant. It defines the pitching process at every step.
Key parameters often go missing or prove inconsistent. Budgets remain unclear. Strategic priorities shift mid-process. Timelines compress. After the kick-off call, feedback loops narrow or vanish.
Under these unpredictable conditions, pitching becomes speculative by necessity. To stay in the game, you play the game. And professionals do what professionals always do. They fill in the gaps with assumptions.
At this point, the crack no longer looks like a crack. It starts emitting fumes, sparks, and some gooey green stuff.
“From the outside, the process appears efficient: interest confirmed, candidates identified. Beneath that efficiency, the real dynamics unfold differently.”
Assumptions multiply quickly. Creative teams try to anticipate what the client might want, what the agency might prefer, what the brand might fear, and what procurement might allow. The proposal stops responding to a clear challenge and begins navigating a field of possibilities.
Options expand. Decks grow. Visual worlds multiply. Work becomes defensive, not because people lack conviction, but because uncertainty demands insurance. And insurance is expensive.
Instead of refining one strong idea, teams chase multiple directions to accommodate unknown expectations. Risk does not disappear. It simply moves downstream. Over time, the industry found itself caught in a cycle shaped by the system: overproduce, overthink, overstress, often all within a single week.

Studios over-prepare because uncertainty demands it. Teams stretch internal timelines because deadlines rarely move. Silence after submission becomes normal, and closure becomes inconsistent. None of this is intentional. It is simply how the system has been allowed to behave.
When urgency becomes baseline, acceleration becomes culture. When feedback disappears, assumptions multiply. When participation outpaces review, evaluation becomes pattern recognition rather than exploration. The situation is no longer a fracture or a distortion. It is the upside-down world in all its glory.
Let’s set the record straight: pitching did not transform overnight. It drifted there, and we let it happen. No single group broke the system. Everyone learned how to navigate it and kept going. And it is understandable. Studios and artists need the work. Agencies need options. Clients need reassurance. Procurement seeks measurable competition. But that does not mean it is OK.
“When urgency becomes baseline, acceleration becomes culture. When feedback disappears, assumptions multiply. When participation outpaces review, evaluation becomes pattern recognition rather than exploration.”
Shorter timelines were accepted. Missing information became normal. More work was produced for less certainty. Dialogue and closure slowly disappeared. Everyone adjusted their behavior to survive the process, and over time, the system quietly became the norm. Which leads to an obvious conclusion: if the system drifted because of everyone, it can also be recalibrated by everyone.
That is the reason We Love Pitching exists: not to complain about the process. Not to romanticize the past. And not to eliminate pitching. The goal is simply to change the way we play the game.
Pitching still has value. Competition sharpens thinking. Diverse perspectives can produce stronger solutions. A well-run pitch can still be one of the most exciting moments in creative work. Fixing the machine will require uncomfortable conversations, negotiation, and shared responsibility. And for the best ideas to win, the process itself needs a fair fight.
This series begins by mapping the fracture: how pitching works today, where friction accumulates, and why the gap between creative capacity and commissioning structure keeps widening. From here, we start rebuilding.
WE LOVE PITCHING: Let’s change the way we play the game.
DISCLAIMER: All images are AI-generated. If it feels real, uncomfortable, or a little ridiculous, it’s intentional. Artificially made. Human crafted.