↘ Tom Knapman on inspiration in life science marketing.
12/08/26
A few months ago I sat down with The Drum for a podcast. Not their typical guest. I’m neither a CMO nor a creative director. Yet it’s more than ten years since I last donned lab specs and a white coat. The episode ended up titled “What does a chief science officer do at a creative agency?” I guess we are going to find out.
I’m a PhD biochemist. My job title is Chief Science Officer. My office is a creative agency in London. I’ve stopped trying to sort these facts into a linear career story because the linear career story doesn’t quite work. What I’ve settled on is that the scientist and the creative are the same person doing the same job in different ways, and this blog is the place I’m going to think out loud about what that means for the work.
Which brings me to my first entry. The spark.
If you’ve spent any real time in life science marketing you’ll have been to a conference like ASMS. Thousands of scientists together in the same city for a week, a packed agenda of talks and posters and exhibitions. Something happens across an event like this I always thought was a powerful conduit for progress in the field. I could call it the inductive effect. You spend the week rubbing shoulders with the giants of the field. People whose work you’ve dissected, whose experiments you’ve tried to copy, whose names you’ve spoken time and time again. Their work, their presence, even their academic arguments lift your own whether you meant it to be lifted or not. You go home with a slightly different sense of what’s possible, and you can’t wait to get back in the lab.
This is the argument I keep making for creative agencies working in life science marketing. If you want to do something genuinely fresh in a category as regulated, technical and cautious as this one, you almost certainly have to look outside the category for the fuel. That’s not a plug for what we do at Boulder (it is ;-)), it’s the reason a good creative agency exists in the first place. We spend most of our time absorbing thought from industries such as entertainment, gaming, fashion, even food and drink, that life science marketing doesn’t naturally sit next to. What we get paid for is the connections between all of that, channelled with insight back into a category that would otherwise keep producing another webinar.
Which is how we ended up making a film about ice cores, vanilla plantations and a motorcycle race across a city, for a mass spec company.
The interesting thing about that lift is how personal it is. Two scientists sit through the same session; one finds the idea fragment that salvages an entire line of research. The back-of-programme sketch ends up framed on their wall. The other takes nothing from the session at all but later spots a poster in the corridor that has nailed the experiment they’ve spent the last six months trying to do. Inspiration is a currency, but it’s not fungible. It shows up in different guises for different people, and often in places they weren’t looking for it.
