For well-rounded work, the creative industry needs next-generation talent to bring new perspectives, lived experience and creative risk. But for many, it has never felt harder to break in. “We talk about ‘raw potential’ but then ask for polished portfolios and prior experience,” say Shelley Smoler, CCO at Lucky Generals, and Kitty Munro, people and culture director at the agency.

These days, job descriptions stretch far beyond entry-level requirements, morphing into wish lists of experience. Many feel the industry has lost sight of what ‘entry level’ really means. “Entry-level roles are exactly that – the first meaningful step into a creative career, whatever learning pathway someone has taken,” says Claire Robertshaw, executive creative director at Design Bridge and Partners. “The joy of a junior role lies in the learning, the opportunity, and the guidance an agency commits to offering.”

One reason expectations have increased is commercial pressure. Leo Young, founder and creative director at Good Nugget, a creative talent accelerator and youth insights studio, believes that, at a result, entry-level and junior creatives are now expected to make an immediate impact.

“Agencies are working faster and in different ways, and clients are putting pressure on that as well. So they’re expecting things quicker, for cheaper and there’s less time to train junior talent,” he explains.

“Companies want hires to be able to contribute instantly, but it becomes a vicious cycle as no juniors are hired, there’s no training provided for entry-level talent, and then there’s no future pipeline because those people don’t exist. So it’s not that there’s an issue with entry-level roles themselves, it’s that we haven’t got the support or structure for them.”

Alongside this, a culture of anxiety has formed around the increased use of AI in creative work. Broadly speaking, entry-level roles have supposedly declined since the introduction of ChatGPT and other AI models, and research suggests that more than two-thirds of those working in the creative industries believe AI has undermined their job security. Yet many feel the perception is worse than the reality.

“AI has changed how we work in concept, not in output. We use it for writing, for ideation. It’s useful early. It doesn’t touch finished work. The real risk isn’t juniors being replaced. It’s a creative culture that drifts toward work that’s technically competent but conceptually empty,” explains Daniel Peterson, founder and creative director of Base Design Melbourne. “AI pulls everything toward an aesthetic midline: fast, legible and a bit dead behind the eyes/ When everyone has the same tools, judgement is the differentiator. That’s always been true. AI just makes it more obvious, and more urgent.”

The deeper concern, as Peterson sees it, lies in how AI reshapes client expectations and the perceived value of creative work. “When a brand starts to behave like marketing, and marketing can be generated at volume for almost nothing, the case for considered creative work gets harder to make,” he notes. “That’s not an AI problem. It’s a value problem. And it starts with whether designers understand what their clients are actually navigating.”

Whether these pressures are overstated or not, in this landscape investing in new talent can begin to feel like a risk. But the real risk is that only those with specific experience, contacts or insider knowledge are considered for roles, further limiting who gets to enter the industry.

Despite this, there is growing recognition that restricting access is not the answer. Increasingly, initiatives, internship programmes and alternative entry routes are being set up to combat the access gap, while also benefiting those already working within the industry. “Interns, in particular, bring a unique burst of energy, curiosity and fresh thinking. They often challenge assumptions, spot emerging cultural shifts, and experiment more freely – all of which can spark new ideas inside a studio,” says Robertshaw.

Design Bridge and Partners has worked with D&AD on initiatives including Shift and New Blood for over a decade, and the partnership has become “mutually beneficial”. The New Blood briefs not only provide real-world exposure for young talent, but Robertshaw believes clients themselves can gain new perspectives. “[They] gain an invaluable insight into their brief from a global Gen Z cohort – our Canesten brief has been downloaded over 10,000 times which is amazing exposure for the brand.”

At Lucky Generals, the agency recently launched The Lucky Way, a four-month internship offering real-world experience to aspiring creatives. “The original drive was actually quite simple: if people don’t know the industry exists, they can’t aspire to join it,” say Smoler and Munro. “So The Lucky Way started as a challenge to ourselves: what if we stopped expecting talent to find us, and instead created something that might find them?”

It was only during the development of the programme that the team began to understand how layered these barriers really are – not just financially or geographically, but in terms of networks, access and confidence. “If you never see people like you in an industry, or you’ve never been told it’s ‘for you’, it’s easy to assume it isn’t,” they say. The Lucky Way requires no experience, offers London Living Wage and travel costs, and provides additional support for those based outside the capital.

Elsewhere, platforms like Young’s talent accelerator Good Nugget aim to bridge the knowledge gap. Through a 16-week training programme, workshops and real working briefs, the initiative partners with agencies, studios and other creative organisations. “We focus on real-world experience and boosting skills and confidence while helping underrepresented talent understand the industry,” Young explains. “For a lot of people, they don’t know how much about the creative industries, all they know is the role of a designer. But there are so many other people that are behind making that campaign or piece of work happen. What we do is share all the stuff they don’t teach you until you’re actually on the inside.”

Many of these initiatives don’t require formal education, prompting ongoing debate about whether a creative degree is still necessary. Rising tuition fees maintenance loans and accommodation costs have made higher education increasingly inaccessible, further contributing to a lack of diversity. At the same time, self-directed learning has become more viable than ever.

“Degrees can shape how you think, which can be valuable. But they’re not the only path,“ say Smoler and Munro. “From a social mobility perspective, higher education can be a luxury. We get more diversity of thought when people’s routes in are more squiggly than linear. There’s huge talent out there that didn’t, couldn’t or doesn’t want to follow the traditional path.”

Peterson sees formal education less as a requirement and more as an opportunity. “Time to build context, develop taste, engage with history. You can’t shortcut that,” he says. “We don’t need people who can operate tools. We need people who are active, curious participants in the world. That requires formation, not just training.”

Young echoes this, noting that while degrees can foster creativity, they do not always prepare graduates for the realities of the industry. “[They] don’t know what the industry infrastructure looks like, what the different types of roles are, or the interpersonal, soft skills that are needed,” he says. “The education system doesn’t prepare you enough. I understand why schools and colleges don’t because they don’t have the resources to, but universities should be working closer with industry to prepare their graduates better. But that’s the gap that Good Nugget helps fill.”

While initiatives and education pathways are evolving, supporting entry-level talent does not end at the point of hire. Retention – and the conditions that allow people to grow – remain just as critical. “A truly inspiring design studio isn’t just about the amazing work they produce. It’s also about having a culture where people connect and work together to come up with new, creative ideas,” says Robertshaw. “These things create a space where good ideas thrive, and collaboration leads to rewarding work.”

“Bringing people in is only half the job. Agencies need to invest time in mentorship, clear progression paths and psychological safety,” add Smoler and Munro. “Retention requires energy. It’s easier to hire heavyweights who can immediately solve problems. But that’s a short-term fix.”

Their approach focuses on building environments where young talent feels supported and able to grow. “From The Lucky Way we will ensure we don’t fall into this trap by creating departmental ambassadors, buddy systems, jargon-busting workshops, investing in mentoring for the interns with Commercial Break to name a few ongoing and consistent initiatives.”

“You’ve got to understand why everybody is there,” adds Young. “For [entry-level] talent, the first few months are critical. Mentoring or a buddy system where somebody can feel confident enough to ask questions in a new company is a no brainer... There needs to be structure and a chance to lay out expectations. Those first six months is when they’ll form their ideas of what they think of the company and so you really need to manage where they should be, break it down to a granular level and give them an opportunity to give feedback.”

Ultimately, the challenge is not a lack of talent, but a lack of sustained investment in it. As Young puts it: “We need to invest in people not just what they can do for us. That’s what makes it work. I’m a big believer in bringing human connection back into the workplace.”

First published in Creative Review.