Good Work Isn’t Cheap: How to Reset Expectations About Creative Value

Jon Burgerman possesses a healthy outlook on commercialism: “I like to think that I haven’t necessarily sold my soul, I’ve merely licensed it.” Images courtesy of Jon Burgerman.

Artist Jon Burgerman recently received a dream email, albeit with a glaring concern. A company worth billions invited him to give a talk to 1,000 employees—and offered him no compensation for his time and expertise.

Burgerman, the UK-born, Brooklyn-based artist often credited as the leading figure in the popular 'Doodle' art style, possesses a healthy outlook on commercialism: “I like to think that I haven’t necessarily sold my soul, I’ve merely licensed it,” he notes. But, because he is very polite, he refrained from writing the company back and saying, “$0! Are you mad!?”

Here in his own words, Burgerman shares how he responds to those who assume creative work is free work, and how we can reset expectations about the value of what we do.

Jon’s work is just plain fun.

The email was very flattering. Someone from a company I admire said they loved my work, that they’d seen my videos and thought they were inspiring.  This person asked if I would like to do a presentation about my creative process to one team in their company to maybe 1,000 people. Would I be up for that? 

I said, Wow. Sounds great. And I asked what the compensation was for my time.

The fee they offered? Zero dollars.

I thought, You’re not going to pay anything? Surely, the talk must be of some value to your employees. I used to be in a hobby band that people didn’t pay to come and see, but we passed a bucket around at the end of the night and people chucked in a few dollars. And this billion-dollar company said in effect: We’re not going to do that.

I don’t want to name and shame, so I won’t call out the company. I want to work with brands and build relationships. I’ve done similar talks at other companies, and employees walk away inspired, happy, and can see things in new ways.

I wrote the person and said that, while I really appreciate the opportunity, I need to be compensated for my work and time. They responded and were apologetic—they had probably heard this before and were embarrassed.

This isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened. I’ve been speaking for about 20 years. Companies ask if I can come and draw something at their offices. They ask if I can draw on people. When someone has asked me to provide a service for free, I’ve said to them, “You’re pretty much asking me to do work for you because that is the cost.” Exposure doesn’t put food on the table.

What are some paths forward? We, as creators, need to realize the value we provide and not to accept these kinds of offers. And I recognize that we’re all guilty of it, in one way or another, especially when we’re starting out in the industry. It’s tough to tell people to not do it, when you used to do it. But that’s something we need to do.

Businesses are always going to ask for stuff for free or a discount. If we can stick to it, it will be more difficult for them to make these asks. The higher-ups at corporations need to accept that the work we do is valuable, and they should be embarrassed to ask for it for free. If they fail to do that, maybe there should be a ‘name and blame’ blacklist to highlight the companies that don’t pay?

We also need to be aware of our options. When people email proposals, it is the start of the conversation. We can always counter their terms. The more you do that, the more people understand what these things costs. It’s the same for getting your apartment rewired or your roof fixed. When you give a price, you give people a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the market rates. I’ve written people back with my rate and one time I had the client say, “Good for you.” As in, glad you get that.

In other industries, rates are either publicly listed or tend to follow a certain formula. In our industry, there is so much mystery. With many types of work, and new formats and mediums, it can be hard to know what to charge. We need more discussion of what people get paid. How much should someone get paid for a one-hour talk? You hear rumors: This designer gets $10,000. This one does it for $500. The one benefit of my hair going gray is that I feel I can probably charge more for my talks now, since I look more distinguished.

The value we provide is more than simply talking for one hour. Picasso once said something like, ‘It may have only taken me a minute to draw this for you—but it took me a lifetime to become a master.’ You’re sharing the recipes; the stories behind the works, discussing the failures and what didn’t work. Ideas are worthless and invaluable at the same time, and you’re about to give away all of your magic spells.

It’s frustrating when you know it’s a company that can afford these things—and that, presumably, all of their employees attending the talk get paid. If you find yourself in this situation, I would suggest writing them back with your fee. Even if you don’t get the work, let them know that this work should be paid for and it’s not free.

You can say, “I would love to do it, and my fee is this much. Let’s take it from there.” If they write back and say, “We don’t have a budget,” you can say, “Then you don’t have a speaker.”