"Who is Don Draper?"
That’s the question a reporter asks within the first thirty seconds of the Mad Men season 4 episode 1 premiere, titled Public Relations. It’s not just a plot point. It’s a challenge to the audience. By the time this episode aired in July 2010, we thought we knew him. We’d seen the flashbacks, the stolen identity, the suburban collapse. But when the screen flickers to life for season 4, everything has changed. The lush, suffocating comfort of the 1950s is dead. The technicolor dread of the 1960s has arrived, and Don is drowning in it.
He's living in a depressing, dark apartment in Greenwich Village. He’s divorced. He’s drinking too much, even by his standards. The premiere doesn't ease you back into the world of Sterling Cooper; it throws you into the scrappy, desperate reality of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. They’re the underdogs now. It’s a pivot that redefined the entire series, shifting it from a period drama about a crumbling marriage into a gritty survival story about a brand trying to find its soul in a decade that was rapidly losing its own.
The Scrappy New Reality of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce
Walking into the new offices is a shock. Gone are the sprawling, wood-paneled halls of the old firm. The new agency is cramped. It’s located in the Time-Life Building, but it feels like a startup. There are wires hanging from the ceiling. Creative and accounts are practically sitting on top of each other. This is the setting for Mad Men season 4 episode 1, and it perfectly mirrors Don't internal state: fragmented, unfinished, and precarious.
The agency is struggling. They have one big fish—Lucky Strike—and a whole lot of nothing else. This pressure cooker environment is where we see the "new" Don Draper, or rather, the desperate Don. When he bombs an interview with Advertising Age because he’s too arrogant to play the game, he puts the entire company at risk. It’s a cringeworthy moment. You want to reach through the screen and tell him to just answer the damn questions. But he can't. He’s still clinging to the mystery of the "old" Don, not realizing that in the 1960s, if you aren't talking, you don't exist.
✨ Don't miss: Temuera Morrison as Boba Fett: Why Fans Are Still Divided Over the Daimyo of Tatooine
Roger Sterling is there, of course, providing the usual caustic wit, but even his jokes feel a bit thinner. The stakes are real now. If they lose Lucky Strike, the lights go out. This isn't the leisure class anymore. This is the hustle.
Peggy, Pete, and the Jantzen Fiasco
One of the most memorable sequences in Mad Men season 4 episode 1 involves a pair of two-piece swimsuits and a lot of repressed 1960s morality. Don kicks the Jantzen executives out of the office. Why? Because they want "modest" swimwear marketing, and Don—ever the provocateur—tells them they’re too chicken to sell what they’re actually selling.
"I’m not here to tell you about your business," Don says, before essentially telling them their business is boring. It’s classic Draper bravado, but this time, it feels unearned. It’s a gamble he might not be able to afford.
While Don is playing high-stakes poker with clients, Peggy Olson and Pete Campbell are orchestrating a fake fight over a ham. Yes, a ham. They hire two actresses to brawl in a grocery store over the last Sugarberry Ham to create "news" for the brand. It’s brilliant. It’s also a sign of how the show’s power dynamics shifted. Peggy isn't the wide-eyed secretary anymore. She’s a strategist. She’s cynical. She’s becoming like Don, which is both a triumph and a tragedy. You see her growing confidence, but you also see the cost. She’s willing to lie, manipulate, and hustle because that’s what the new world demands.
🔗 Read more: Why Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Actors Still Define the Modern Spy Thriller
The Ghost of Betty Draper and the New Year’s Eve Disaster
We can't talk about this episode without mentioning the psychological wreckage of the Draper divorce. Thanksgiving at the Francis household is a masterclass in awkwardness. Betty is remarried to Henry Francis, living in the house Don bought, and she’s clearly miserable. The transition from "Mrs. Draper" to "Mrs. Francis" hasn't brought her the peace she expected.
Then there’s the date. Don’t date with Bethany Van Nuys. It’s a forced, hollow attempt at normalcy. He takes her to dinner, they see Betty and Henry, and the tension is thick enough to cut with a steak knife. Don is trying to play the part of the handsome bachelor, but he’s empty.
The episode ends with a bleak New Year’s Eve. Don is alone. He ends up with a prostitute who he pays to slap him. It’s a dark, gritty turn for a character who used to be the epitome of cool. It’s a reminder that Mad Men season 4 episode 1 isn't interested in maintaining the status quo. It wants to tear Don down to his studs to see if there’s anything worth rebuilding.
Why "Public Relations" Flipped the Script
Most shows would have kept the agency in the same building. They would have kept the marriage going for another two seasons. Matthew Weiner didn't. He blew it all up.
💡 You might also like: The Entire History of You: What Most People Get Wrong About the Grain
The brilliance of this premiere lies in its honesty about failure. Don fails the interview. He fails the Jantzen meeting. He fails as a father during his brief weekend visit with the kids. He’s a man who has lost his narrative. The title "Public Relations" refers to the agency’s PR, but more importantly, it refers to the image Don projects to the world. And that image is cracking.
People often forget how much of a reboot this season felt like. It breathed new life into the series by raising the stakes. It wasn't just about whether a campaign would succeed; it was about whether these people would survive the decade. The fashion got bolder, the colors got more saturated, and the loneliness got much, much louder.
What This Episode Teaches Us About Branding (Even Now)
Looking back at Mad Men season 4 episode 1 from a 2026 perspective, the business lessons are surprisingly relevant. Don’t initial failure with the Ad Age reporter is a case study in why "letting the work speak for itself" is a dangerous lie.
- You are the brand. In a crowded market, people don't just buy the product; they buy the person behind it. Don’t refusal to tell his story nearly killed the agency before it started.
- The "Ham Fight" logic. PR stunts aren't new. Peggy's ham fight is the 1964 version of a viral TikTok trend. It’s about creating a conversation where there wasn't one.
- Know when to fire a client. Don’t dismissal of Jantzen was arrogant, but his logic was sound: if a client is fundamentally afraid of their own product’s appeal, you will never make them happy.
The episode concludes with Don finally "getting it." He sits down for another interview, but this time, he spins a yarn. He tells a mythic version of himself. He creates the legend. It’s a lie, but it’s a beautiful one, and it’s what the world wants to hear.
Moving Forward with the Draper Mindset
If you're revisiting the series or studying it for the first time, pay attention to the silence. The most important things in this episode are the things Don doesn't say. He’s a man in transition, and transition is always messy.
- Watch for the lighting change: Notice how much darker the SCDP offices are compared to the old Sterling Cooper. It’s intentional.
- Analyze the Peggy/Don dynamic: This is the season where they truly become peers, even if Don isn't ready to admit it yet.
- Look at the costumes: Janie Bryant’s costume design in this episode marks a sharp departure from the 50s. The silhouettes are changing, reflecting the social upheaval of the mid-60s.
Ultimately, this episode is a reminder that reinvention is painful. Whether you’re a divorced ad man in 1964 or someone trying to navigate a career shift today, the lesson is the same: you have to be willing to kill your old self to become who you need to be next. Don Draper started the episode as a mystery and ended it as a story. The story was fake, but in the world of advertising, that’s often the only thing that’s real.