Being a copywriter:
It’s 1968. Don Draper, the creative director at an ad agency, meets Lloyd Hawley, a supervisor at LeaseTech, a company that installs computers, which, back then, took up an entire room.
“You must have a hell of a business right now,” Don says, gesturing towards the machine Lloyd’s team is wheeling into his office.
“We’ll see,” says Lloyd. “It’s tough, because we both sell IBM’s product and compete with them.”
“Who’s winning?” Don says. “Who’s replacing more humans?”
“Well I go into businesses every day,” says Lloyd, “and it’s been my experience these machines can be a metaphor for whatever’s on people’s minds.”
“Because they’re afraid of computers?” says Don.
“Yes,” Lloyd says. “This machine is frightening to people, but it’s made by people.”
“And people aren’t frightening?”
“It’s not that,” Lloyd says. “It’s more of a cosmic disturbance. This machine is intimidating because it contains infinite quantities of information, and that’s threatening, because human existence is finite.” He shifts his weight. “But isn’t it godlike that we’ve mastered the infinite? The IBM 360 can count more stars in a day than we can in a lifetime.”
Don looks at him. “But what man laid on his back counting stars and thought about a number?”
This conversation is fiction, an excerpt from Mad Men.
But the sentiment—the fear—is real, an accurate reflection of the tension people felt in the late 1960s when the emergence of computers was both a practical threat and an existential one. Back then technology evoked awe for what humans created, but also anxiety over being eclipsed by it.
In 2025, people everywhere, in almost every line of work, feel the same way. Once again, we’re feeling this insecurity, this dread, this loss of control, a “cosmic disturbance” as Lloyd puts it. It’s dehumanizing, in a way, a poignant reminder of our own finitude:
“The IBM 360,” Lloyd says, “can count more stars in a day than we can in a lifetime.”
“But what man laid on his back counting stars and thought about a number?” says Don.
As a copywriter, I love this exchange and think about it often. I think about Don’s position, about his reluctance to quantify the stars. Instead, he prefers to dream about them, to create stories about them. This mindset—this propensity to imagine and wonder and make meaning rather than merely calculate—is a big part of being a copywriter.