Spotlight: Daring greatly in Pakistan

When I was in university studying Film and Graphic Design, I walked around with a deep desire to tell stories. Most creative people have it. I also wanted a life beyond work. I wanted freedom: to have a full life while I grew professionally. Free time to play Lego, to paint, to squander. Time for sports, lazy summer afternoons with family and unending conversations that weren’t about work. Time to build ties with the rest of the world.

Isn’t it all this perspective that feeds into what we create as stories, as art, as design? Isn’t what we create at work heavily influenced by what we do outside of work? I started avidly following women filmmakers, those who made it big and those still struggling. I saw the high achievers, and the hidden cost of those achievements. The few women who succeeded had traded personal goals for projects and relentless hours at shoots. Their resilience often came from sacrifice. Sacrificing family time, emotional availability, daily check-ins with parents, even health. I didn’t want that. I wanted to find a way out somehow. One where I could be conscious of the choices I made considering the true price I might pay decades later. I didn’t yet know how, but I knew what.

In my final year at university, I did my thesis project on rebranding the Arts Council of Pakistan. I envisioned it as an inclusive space representing all kinds of artists, especially in Karachi. I wanted the launch of their then new and upcoming indoor theatre to showcase the true experience of a performer. To tell stories of vulnerability and creative courage, with the human experience at its core. The parts we don’t see or think about. My short film, ‘Taaliyaan’ (meaning: Applause), told the story of an actor hustling through Karachi’s crowded streets, frantically preparing backstage, getting ready to step into his moment of truth. That project, while doing its bit as a thesis and delivering on grades, ended up giving me insights into what drives great creative work. I realized then that your effectiveness as a creative depends heavily on who you work with, in a space where you are able to be yourself, safely. A conducive environment meant lots of vulnerability, not alone but with your ‘tribe’.

As a fresh graduate, I wondered if I could choose my environment though. We had all heard about toxic ad agency cultures. Did I want to step into that? I decided to explore and see if I could find a space that aligned with my values. I was offered a job at a leading ad agency before I had time to hesitate. I was curious to know what earning a steady pay check would feel like. Would it change me? And how might I perhaps, create some change, if I dare?

Fast forward four years and I could see that whereas many people in ad agencies were well intentioned, the systems did not reflect these intentions. They were designed for profit for the few, there was no meritocracy. I saw firsthand what were harmful practices and how that toxicity influenced creative work. I began advocating for small changes by asking questions and presenting alternatives. Mostly it was assigned to my naivete and shrugged off. Sometimes, I was able to enact a small change. Less wasteful meetings. Better ownership of tasks. I learned by doing that clarity and empathy could actually shift work culture. This was encouraging.

Later, at a leaner ad agency, affiliated with a global network, I walked into my CEO’s office to let him know I was expecting my first child. Upon finding out, I heard the boss sigh with great despair how all the best female talent makes the exact same ‘mistake’. It was startling. I started realising that the contradictions women talk about are real, given this was an ad agency with actual maternity policies in place. I worked there for nine months, and they continued to deduct my salary for coming to work late every morning, exactly as they would for anyone else. I decided to take the pay cut and not skip breakfast. It was a strange dichotomy: to be so inspired by life itself on the inside and yet be so invisible to the working world.

AN AGENCY DOES NOT NEED TO OPERATE 9-TO-5 AND CAN GET WORK DONE REMOTELY BECAUSE OF INTELLIGENT ACCOUNTABILITY LOOPS.

My next boss was kinder. He agreed to flexible hours and I in turn worked harder than I ever had. And while my work relationships strengthened, I continued to see that the broader ecosystem was rigid. Around me, so many friends, after having children, just left work altogether. Some resigned happily but they struggled with a sense of deep disappointment in themselves. It felt wrong.

As I have continued to work in this space, I have come to strongly believe that for creative work in particular, a mind at ease is mandatory for consistent output. Make the workspace an inspired, happy one and it results in truly remarkable work. Unfortunately, when it comes to family-friendly workplaces, I have seen time and again that although the policies are there in words, but in practice, they fall short. In theory, we have maternity leave and flexible hours, but in reality, it translates as guilt, snide remarks, and missed promotions.

So, what does one do? Creatives build and solve. We dare greatly.

I had no legal jargon and framework, no fancy economics degree but I had to start somewhere. I started advocating for policies first for myself, and then for the people around me. The idea was to have policies firmly rooted in empathy and humility. What does that mean exactly? Fair for all stakeholders, not just the owners. My aim was to not only create policies for creative professionals that were aligned with a design thinking / empathy mapping framework, but where the needs of both the employees and the owners were met so that the policy could be sustained in the long-run. This meant tracking the value of the company to the creative (salary, healthy work culture, portfolio of good work) in relation to their value to the company (effective jobs delivered, business development, great team player etc.).

As I have moved from working at to helming a creative agency of my own, I have come to firmly believe that especially for creative services, with newer avenues empowering creative people to work from home and earn well on their own entirely, policies that recognize talent and give credit where its due will thrive. Benefits can no longer be top heavy. Younger creatives will not subscribe to businesses that have unfair distribution of power. An agency does not need to operate 9-to-5 and can get work done remotely because of intelligent accountability loops. Indeed, an agency that supports caregivers isn’t doing creatives a favor—it’s just doing smart business. Burn out for working parents in the summer break is real. So many learnings, and two full decades of work under my belt, I am considering announcing a 3-week summer break for caregivers in June and July. The industry must keep daring greatly.


Nagin Ansari Founder and CEO of Backspace, a full-service creative agency, expertise in design, communication, campaigns and brand building with a global client portfolio, educator, advisor, mentor and mom.

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Nagin Ansari