shutterstock_232893838Give UBS credit for bravely launching a major ad campaign when antipathy toward big banks is as strong as ever.  The ads pose deeply personal questions in a bid to put UBS in the middle of an individual’s most critical dialogue.

But will people let UBS inside?

The ads are a bold stroke for the bank in an industry that isn’t known for cutting-edge marketing. With simple text, ample whitespace and dramatic photography – by Annie Leibovitz, no less – the ads are visually striking.

They are a more serious version of the traditional private-wealth-management advertisement in which a fictional client is shown smiling, successful and confident – all thanks to their helpful banker. Instead, in the current UBS campaign the clients look troubled and pensive, burdened by the weight of their success.

In one, a bearded executive seated alone in an empty high-rise office asks, “Am I a good father?” Another shows a man in his modest factory asking whether his business is growing fast enough. These are deeply personal questions, and the message is UBS wants to be there when clients grapple with them. The ads suggest the banker is there to ease a burden rather than celebrate success. Tangible signs of wealth are subtle, too – no yachts, race cars, or private jets.

But there’s nothing low-key about the campaign’s ambitions or the desire by UBS to maintain its dominance in managing money for wealthy clients. The ads are everywhere, thanks to a sizable media budget that recalls the heady days before the financial crisis. (One difference now, of course, is that UBS is marketing its wealth management services not its investment banking business, which it cut sharply in recent years.)

But whether clients expect – or want – their banker to have something helpful to say about parenting is an open question.

Most clients would be happy if their bank just did a few things really well, like handling payments, lending money and managing investments. Clients would like their bank to provide these services without excessive fees, deceptive sales practices or other shenanigans that might topple the bank (or the entire financial system for that matter). If a bank can clear that hurdle, clients might be open to other conversations.

Yet the banking industry has had a hard time doing this, and that’s where the campaign might fall short. A bank has to win the trust of its clients if it wants to have a conversation about big, personal life-issues.

More than seven years after the financial crisis trust in banks remains low, according to a study by Northwestern University and the Booth School of Business. The industry’s mishaps haven’t faded from memory.

For its part, UBS has a long history to overcome: helping clients evade taxes, manipulating Libor, colluding in the foreign exchange market, mis-selling mortgage securities, and the rogue trader who lost $2 billion in the blink of an eye. That’s a lot for a client to overlook on their way to an intimate conversation with a UBS banker.

It’s easy to understand why UBS wants to be seen as a place where clients can ask hard questions and get sound advice. The wealth management business is under siege. The rise of low-cost ETFs has given investors access to sophisticated investing strategies that previously were available only through big banks. What’s more, the rise of robo-advisors – online investment programs that select and rebalance a custom portfolio based on the customer’s risk tolerances – threatens the army of financial advisors employed by UBS.

But a robot can’t have a deeply personal conversation about your aspirations, fears and desires. Not yet, anyway. And until that happens, UBS wants you to come in for a talk.