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...embedded in a page ad to promote CBS's autumn TV line-up and a Barclaycard water-slide iPhone application. But such digital formats on their own are no substitute for direct mail's power to reach valuable and less promiscuous audiences, he argues.

Last week, I had an amazing dream. Indulge me for a few moments while I recount it.

I was standing in the Central Hall of The Natural History Museum in the shadow of a diplodocus and there, in a display case, among dinosaur fossils, the teeth of extinct predators and some bone-handled flint axes, I spied an acquisition direct mail pack.

Beside it the words ‘artefact of a primitive civilisation - a potent fertility symbol, once worshipped by businessmen as a means to extend the consumer tribe'.

In my dream, I was suddenly caught by a big twister that roared in through the Romanesque arch of the front entrance, whirled me up Exhibition Road and deposited me like a dumbstruck child amid the interactive exhibits of The Science Museum.

I was agog. Above me hung a massive chandelier made entirely of Bic Biros, to my right stood a Wallace and Gromit plastic futuro sheep-pen, on my left a hologram of Ronaldo introducing me to an intelligent soccer ball that runs back to the centre spot after a goal is scored. And in my hand I held a 4-page A4 insert.

But this was no ordinary FSI. It featured a screen with a real-time video link to Rupert Murdoch. To my horror and confusion, The Dirty Digger was telling me to pay up for the privilege of watching him demanding money out of me.

By the end of the week, two seminal events in our industry had shown my dream to be prophetic.

The first (The Natural History Museum half of my dream) was news from the States that Reader's Digest, the iconic Big Beast of the Direct Mail jungle, was filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection - proof, if any were needed, that traditional prospecting direct mail is dead or, if not, certainly in remission.

From Reader's Digest HQ in Pleasantville, New York, came the thoroughly unpleasant management-speak announcement that Chapter 11 would allow the company managers to forge ahead with "growth and transformational activities". My guess is that these activities will exclude publishing, offline communication and anything aimed at the over-50's - the prime audience for direct mail.

The second piece of news (The Science Museum part of my dream) also came from the US. Together, CBS and Pepsi have created a new FSI. Inserted into 100,000 copies of ‘Entertainment Weekly', this printed flyer incorporates a wafer-thin video screen built into the page.  It's the first ever piece of full-motion video direct mail, activated when the reader opens it up - just like a birthday sound card. Like the ‘Daily Prophet' in Harry Potter, consumers will be addressed by real human beings - in this case, the characters from CBS's Monday night line-up.

It will be really interesting to work out the ROI on this one. Apparently, it costs "a low seven figure" sum to produce 100,000 copies of the flyer, whereas a full page colour ad in the same publication costs just nine cents a copy. Return on impact and innovation will, no doubt, be considerable. Return on Investment will not. But if this is an indicator as to the future, paper-based direct mail is in big trouble.

Which is sad.

Don't get me wrong. I love the possibilities that come with digital, the idea of a more empowered Digital Britain and the allure of more creative possibilities at lower cost in real time.

But I miss direct mail. And of late I've really been struck by the drop-off in acquisition-based traditional mailings. It's not just the tangibility, that smell of virgin paper like freshly laundered linen, the satisfying rip of the envelope, the spring-loaded stubbornness of the tight fold on the letter, the sheen of the stock, the tease and reveal of the idea that awakens all my reward sensors.

It's the respect that direct mail brings with it. If it resonates, I can read it in my own time at my own pace. If it doesn't, I can recycle it then and there. Like a good book. I decide when to pick it up and how to digest it. I'm judge, jury and executioner of the message. I'm in control.

I don't receive these surprising parcels of happiness any more.  And I'm all the poorer for it.

The height of the crash last October was the final nail in the coffin for high volume acquisition mailings, now seen, like Gordon Brown to David Cameron, as an ‘analogue medium in a digital world'.

Since October, there's been sufficient time for clients to readjust their financial targets for this year, reduce their acquisition targets and re-focus on their retention levels - mining the customer base to reduce churn and squeeze additional funds out of their existing supporters.

Reduction in marketing costs have meant that I've been getting more unsolicited flyers - mainly on local trades - and as a result, retention mailings that address me as a valued customer are standing out. Not because the messaging is getting any better or more relevant. It's simply that there's less competition for space on my doormat.

By the same token, acquisition activity has moved firmly into the digital world - as evidenced by the surge in SEO, pay-per-click, affiliates, online media deals, virals and i-apps - such as Barclaycard's water-slide i-app, a big departure for them from paper-based activity and, with Apple's blessing, something of a digital coup.

In the charity arena, I particularly enjoyed . It's a direct form of fundraising - a nice idea that allows the owner to interact with their pet. Simply upload a picture of Tiddles and Tiddles will talk to you. 

‘Talking Pets' is a very powerful recruitment tool - after all, most people would prefer to interact with their pet on their terms than with a pet charity on its. In return, I give Blue Cross my email address and they get to ask me for a donation - the value exchange is complete. It's an under-the-radar form of direct fundraising that's clever and insightful.

But the point is, two years ago, this fundraising approach would have been delivered offline as a cold direct mail pack.

The big watch-out in all this is what happens when the recovery kicks in.

If they're anything like me, consumers will lose faith with brands that have ditched the familiar channels in their pursuit of lower costs.

The inescapable fact is that digital does not appeal to the same audiences and it is not capable of engaging all the senses or engendering trust in quite the same way as carefully targeted direct mail. As part of a multi-channel strategy for acquisition, digital is potent, but used as substitution for direct mail, it's in danger of alienating more valuable and potentially less promiscuous audiences.

So my message to brands thinking of shelving direct mail in pursuit of new customers? Don't. Stick with it. Now, more than ever, you'll get to stand out on the doormat and it will pay back handsomely in conversion, net present value and lifetime value.

And if that message fails, sales at the Natural History Museum gift shops are up 21% in the current financial year. So you could always flog off your old direct mail samples as primitive artefacts.

Dan Douglass is executive creative director at Meteorite