The laws of working for a producer

A plea

I first wrote this eleven years ago, and it’s been long buried on my old, invisible blog. It resonated last time. Everything is still true (although I produce less nowadays). But producers are some of the hardest-working, least-thanked people in the arts industry. Everything depends on them, but they are woefully under-trained and under-valued. Support your producers, please and thank you.

Via a strange mixture of accident and design, I've become a cultural producer. For artists who wish to sustain themselves, finding ways to enhance your business, production and management skills are integral. Without them, your work stagnates on a single level, and your finances never get off the ground.

So I’m a producer. And I work for producers. And if you’re an artist, you work for producers too. These people get you employed.

There are three simple ways to improve your reputation, increase your entrepreneurial awareness, and increase your chances of employment. These are things that you can do now. If you're already doing them, you're likely already reaping the rewards. It may not feel like it, but trust me, you're lightyears ahead of a lot of the pack.

1. Respond to e-mails & pick up your phone

It's late afternoon and I've got a deadline. I've been working on an application to pay you more money for the past ten days. At the beginning of the week, I e-mailed you asking for some details so I can support the application. The application has to be in in one hour. I foolishly thought one week would be enough for you to send me a 100-word paragraph about yourself. I was wrong. I wrote to you again 48 hours later after my initial e-mail—still nothing. I know your e-mail works. I know you check it. I'm now sounding like a crazed ex-lover, and I don't enjoy it. I've done all I can. You haven't responded, and the application has to go in without your material. The project (and you) now stand less of a chance of being funded.

As a producer I'm constantly e-mailing about dates, schedules, and asking for responses. If you don't respond within 72 hours, I e-mail you again. I ring you if I haven't heard from you after another 36 hours. If I understand that ringing you will give me a higher rate of success, I will now adopt the phone as the primary mode of contact. If, however, phone or e-mail doesn't work after three attempts (i.e., it's four to five days later and I haven't heard from you), then I classify the communication as failed. Three failed pieces of communication mean I see you as unreliable. Your chances of being employed by me again are low. I begin to worry about your commitment to the project overall. If other producers ask me about you, I will first tell them that you're difficult to communicate with.

Conversely, if you respond within 72 hours - even if it's with a 'just hold on I'm getting to it' response, I come to regard you as something like a God. You're a helpful companion on a long voyage. I see you as trustworthy and committed. You quickly become a favourite.

It's not hard to respond. Oftentimes, when I finally manage to get a hold of artists who have proved tricky, they remark that they saw the e-mail, meant to respond to it, and never got round to it. 'It's mental,' they often remark, 'I think [insert month we are currently in] is just stupidly busy for everyone.' Yes, yes it is. But a whole heap of people manage to respond to their e-mails. Don't be fooled; chances are you've already gotten a reputation. I've asked about you around town, and people know if you're lousy with responses or not. I've been warned.

So. Write back.

2025 edit: you have a right to rest and retreat. You don’t need to be available 24 hours a day. But make good use of an auto-responder if you plan to be away from your e-mail. That would be helpful.

2. Be nice. Be professional.

Manners. That's all I'm saying. Manners.

Please. Thank you. Turning up with a smile and ready to work with the team. Simple stuff, but you'd be surprised. Unless we're close, I'm sorry, I really don't care about whatever's bugging you. If something is bugging you to the point where it's impeding your work, for goodness sake talk to me. Otherwise, get on with the job.

Oh, and men. Look women in the eye when you're speaking. Be respectful. I don't want to work with you if you're an arsehole.

2025 edit: still true. Sadly, particularly on men. Blokes, don’t just speak to other blokes in the room. Talk to women and respect them.

3. Be humble. Be generous.

If you are generous and humble, you will be put into the good books forever and achieve iconic status amongst your peers. If there's something you know you could do but haven't been asked, and it takes you little effort or time to do it, do it. You will quickly become regarded as a legend.

Let your work speak for itself. You are not above or below anything. This career isn't a ladder, with better things awaiting you at the top. There's no such thing as going backwards, or forwards, there are just different gigs. You will almost certainly be miserable forever if you see your life as a set of jobs that should come in a particular order. They won't. Once you're at peace with this fact, you become much less concerned with letting people know what you've done in the past. Don't worry. We've all got Google, and we can find out for ourselves. If you're humble, funny, and down-to-earth, we'll love you. If we then go on Google and find that you're an incredibly accomplished person, we'll ADORE you.

Silence is better than bullshit. Shut up and get on with it.

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