Archive for the ‘Scenes’ Category

Burning Platforms

Wednesday, August 3rd, 2011

Before yesterday, I’d never, to my recollection, heard the phrase ‘burning platform’ used in a business conversation. Yesterday I heard it used multiple times in two different conversations, with teams in two different businesses, in two different parts of the U.S., to refer to issues they are addressing.

A pattern defines a game.

This is what a burning platform looks like:

BurningPlatform1

What’s the story here? Well, let’s see…it’s an environmental disaster…lives are no doubt endangered (many have already escaped in lifeboats, jumped or been killed (e.g. ‘fired’)…the focus is on containment instead of productivity…the PR spinning is beginning…a hundred lawyers are circling…Wall Street is manipulating markets based on shareholder emotions…the media is fanning the fear…the government is organizing committees that will haunt and impede productivity for years to come…cities, states and municipalities are seeking reparations. Whatever good can emerge from this mess will be years, maybe a generation, in coming.

Metaphors like ‘burning platform’ represent a level of meaning that accompanies all communication, the Meta level. (The other two are Cosmetic and Emotional). The Meta level contains metaphor, symbolism, allegory, parable, analogies, etc. Meta meaning is powerful stuff and should be chosen with great care. It’s why brands work so hard, at such great expense, on their identity. Those symbols mean a lot.

At GameChangers, we practice what I call the science of narrative. This science requires specific, deliberate and objective choices about what metaphors we put into play.

The Center for Public Policy and Administration defined the phrase ‘burning platform’ in 2005. ‘Burning platform’ according to the CPPA, came into meaning when a driller on a burning offshore oil-drilling platform calculated that his best chance of survival was a 150-foot jump that he’d never make under normal conditions. A burning platform came to mean an ‘urgent condition requiring bold choices.’ All good, and useful. Context is huge, however, and after the Deepwater Horizon explosion, the context for this phrase changed and, along with it, its meaning. Now it means ‘unmitigated disaster.’

Look at the photo again. That’s the image of a burning platform most of your audience will conjure when this phrase is used. Whatever changes come about because of the pictured scenario promise to be painful, litigious, lengthy and costly. This is not what we want when we change the game. We want change that is productive, agreeable, fast and inexpensive to implement.

Clearly, we need a new metaphor to capture this meaning.

It’s like that old Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon intro, where Bullwinkle pulls a monster out of a hat and says “No doubt about it, I’ve gotta get another hat.”

We’ve gotta get another hat.

Leave it to Jobs

Thursday, July 21st, 2011

Over the past three and a half years at GameChangers, we have gone through Cirque du Soleil-like contortions  to explain improvsiation and its value to business in the Networked World.

We have defined it as “A process for producing consistently positive outcomes from unforeseen circumstances.” We call it “serendipity by design.” “A game, a theme, and an exploration.” “Collaborative problem solving.” “Acting on environment and letting environment act on you.” Listening, Learning and Transformation.” “Agility + Ability.” “Freedom within Structure.” “Creating a cosmos out of chaos.” “Openness to opportunity.” “The Big Yes-And.” “Flexible Vision.” “How Tina and Amy Got Their Grooves,” and “Not comedy.”  Among others.

Leave it to Steve Jobs, interviewed in The Pixar Story, Leslie Iwerks’ 2007 feature documentary, to phrase it with the assured elegance of an Apple design.”Unplanned collaboration” is the phrase he uses.

“We wanted a place that would encourage unplanned collaboration,” said Jobs in describing the design of Pixar’s new studio. He repeatedly cites this this as the architecture’s objective.

He didn’t connect this phrase to improvisation, per se, but it’s as good a definition as we’ve heard. Improvisation is unplanned collaboration. And even though it’s unplanned, it’s all part of the design. In the architecture of improvisation, you fully expect to run into someone unexpectedly. When you do, you are prepared to exchange information, find an agreement, and build a scene together or continue one that had begun earlier. You expect that others might jump into this scene with you, and you are prepared for anything they might add. Through this process, in thousands upon thousands of such unplanned increments, each filled with its own unique potential to be productive, you move your narrative forward.

It’s hard to imagine a better case study for the value of improvisational design than Pixar’s studio, or a better model of what it means to be a GameChanger than Steve Jobs.JobsCirque1

Jobs also said it took ten years for Pixar to make any money. We’re just going to ignore that one. Play on.

Cloud Noise

Wednesday, May 18th, 2011

Toby Daniels (@tobyd), co-founder of Social Media Week, passed along this video this morning. It’s hilarious, and as the title of Charna Halpern and Kim Howard Johnson’s famous book goes, there’s a lot of Truth in Comedy.

StartUpGuys1

Here’s the Truth in this scene: With the coming of the cloud, there’s going to be so much new information coming online all the time that the invitation is to stay comfortably lost in it all, rambling on about our own stuff without really listening. Ever. We’re full of it. Just like these guys. Truth.

So what are we listening for?  For the game we can play together. From a productive game will come a narrative that makes sense of it all. But only after the the game has been played.

Later, when people ask, we can look back and say, “That was our strategy.”

Meanwhile, I sort of agree with the caption on the video: ‘The best strategy is one you don’t understand.’ Funny. True.

Amber Magic

Tuesday, April 19th, 2011

Last week, I went to see a friend’s band play at a club in Hollywood, and got there to discover that they were third on the bill.  I had some time, so went across the street to Starbucks, where I read the paper and drank a cafe mocha.  The colorful characters are always present along Hollywood Boulevard, and a number of them were streaming in and out of the Starbucks, so I amused myself by tweeting about them.

One of them was a teenaged girl lugging a big suitcase. Her cheeks were painted in glitter. She looked tired. She ordered a water, then got a book out of a suitcase that looked to be crammed with rave clothing, smelled the book, and began reading.  On occasion, as she was reading, she would laugh out loud.

I figured I had the story.  Practically a cliche.  Underage girl, probably a runaway, goes to Hollywood rave, crashes with people she meets there, and when everyone is no longer amused, they kick her onto the street.  Now she was headed back to San Bernardino or Topeka, or wherever.

To confirm all this, I initiated a conversation with her.  It turned out that her name is Amber.  She works with a group in the Bay Area called Magic Princess that does party performances.  A couple of days earlier, they had gotten a phone call from the Make-a-Wish Foundation in L.A., and Amber happened to be in the office when the call came.  An eight year old girl from Los Angeles with a terminal illness had made a wish to see a fairy.  Amber volunteered to play the fairy.  She rode a bus for 12 hours from Oakland to L.A., spent the afternoon being the little girl’s fairy and was waiting for the bus, to ride 12 hours back home.

The light of Amber’s beautiful story exposed the wrongness of my pathetic preconception. How often do we do this? We perceive things to be a certain way because we see them from the perspective of our own experiences, when in reality, our own experiences are a very narrow lens, like trying to see the world through a pinhole camera. When we manage to put down that lens and really look around, we discover that every interaction holds the potential for something new and wonderful.

It is only when we let go of our own narratives, our scripts for what we think we want our lives to be, our prejudices preconceptions and fears, that we can truly experience the beauty of what life actually is. We don’t have to make the magic. It’s all around us. And if we’re open to it, it will happen.AmberFairy1

Letter from an Angry Mother

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011

Dear Children,

I know you are busy with your lives and your careers and such, and you know I’m not one to meddle or nag.  Live and let live, that’s my motto.  But as your Mother I’ve got to tell you that your behavior lately has been hurtful to me, and to the rest of our family. You seem to have forgotten that I am a living, breathing being, with real feelings. And right now my feelings are hurt. Badly.

I held you in my arms.  Fed you.  Gave you a nice home. Helped you grow into the people you are today. I guess I have failed, because the people you are today have wounded me.  I want to scream.  Sometimes I do scream.  Of course you don’t hear me, you only hear what’s coming out of your own mouths. How about listening for a change?

I made it possible for you to get an education, so you can do whatever it is you do for a living (I still don’t understand it!???) and yet you take me for granted.  Like I am nothing to you.  This is the treatment I deserve?  This is your response to a lifetime of love?

I do not ask for your thanks.  A Mother’s job is a thankless one.  I accept that.  Spare me the holidays.  Show me some appreciation, that’s all.  I will not be ignored! I will not go gently into the night!!!

How about I cut off your inheritance? You have no idea how close I am to doing it.  You’ve already blown through most of what I intended to leave you, anyway.  Take, take, take, and never give back, that’s you.

If you’re not going to show me respect, I promise you I’ll start taking back what’s rightfully mine.  How did you like it when I took back that piece of Japan last month? That hurt, didn’t it?  You felt that, didn’t you?  It is just the beginning of where this thing is headed unless you get your act together.

At one time, the family owned a million or more varieties of apples, did you know that?  What are we down to now?  Six?  Seven?  It took me ages to save up my precious minerals collection.  You walked off with it, and you’re not bringing it back, you think I don’t notice? It took me 10 million years to build the family oil business, and you’re going to blow through it in a couple of measly centuries?  Some nerve.  Frack me?  No, frack you!!!

The Dodo was my favorite tsotchke , you probably didn’t know that, did you?  Of course you didn’t, because it’s always all about you.  I loved that animal, it made me laugh every time I looked at it, and then you broke it.  I miss my Dodo.  It was one of a kind.  It cannot be replaced.  Too late for an apology.  Don’t even try.  I’m not forgiving you for that one.

Mustard gas?  That any children of mine would make such a thing is one of my greatest heartaches.  Agent Orange?  First of all, I resent like hell that you named it after one of my favorite fruits.  Second, I still have a rash in Southeast Asia, one of the most beautiful parts of my body (one of the few I have left) because of it.  Asbestos?  Awful stuff.  Zylon B? If only it were the bad science fiction it sounds like, instead of the awful reality it was. Still gives me nightmares. And then to top it all off, you take innocent little hydrogen, and turn him into a weapon?!! Honest to Gaia, where do you learn such things?  Who are your friends?

Chernobyl?  Nuclear reactors and vodka? That was a bright idea. First, you poison me with  radiation, then you invite tourists to see the results?  Why?  So you and your kids can laugh at the featherless geese?  Have the geese not been humiliated enough?  (Yes, they have!)

Is anyone ever going to take responsibility for the mess you made in Bophal? Someone did it, and someone is going to clean it up, and we are going to wait right here until that happens, I don’t care how long it takes. And if one of you doesn’t own up to it, all of you will.

How is that cancer thing working out for you? Nobody had cancer before you brought it home, we didn’t even know what the stuff was. Now we can’t get rid of it. What’s the matter with the genes I gave you?  Nothing is ever good enough for you, is it? You’re weaving a tangled web, that’s all I can say. What are those hard red things you call tomatoes, anyway?  The corn was just fine until you came along. What is so bad about four teats on a cow? Why must you try to make six? Stop meddling with my DNA! It’s my responsibility. Keep your noses out of it!

PlanetEarth2Another thing—my air conditioner isn’t working. Why? Because I have you for children, that’s why. You broke it with your incessant smoking, and I don’t see you offering to fix it. Fine! Tell the police they’ll find my body in the kitchen, propped against the open refrigerator, where I went to get one last breath before my lungs turned to ash.

My water!  What has happened to my beautiful water? I turn my back for a minute, and you’ve dumped so much of your crap into it that all I hear is complaints from the other family members. The dolphins and whales won’t shut up about it. The salmon don’t spawn like they used to.  The octopi are pissed.  I’m not even going to go into what the plants have to say. I’ll say it for them. Thanks for nothing!!!

Have you no idea how much pain I am in?  I’m sick.  Last year I had a leak in my gulf that didn’t let up for months, and my turtles and birds are still hurting.  I get the cold sweats.  I cry for no apparent reason, until I can’t cry any more. The doctors don’t know what’s causing the vomiting, which I do with awful regularity.  My nausea is the only constant of my existence.

You have hollowed me out.  Drained me.  The only feelings I have toward you are angry ones.  Maybe venting like this is what it will take to get your attention, or make me feel better anyway.

Don’t make me lose my temper!  The last time I lost my temper, I killed the dinosaurs, you know.  That was me.  Boom!  Just like that. Gone in a heartbeat. It was an accident.  The Creator slugged me and I slugged back, and the poor dinosaurs got in the way.  I am not a cruel woman, as you often claim (don’t tell me you don’t, I’ve read your diaries!!!)  Anger can be a cruel thing, though, the reason being you never know who’s going to get hurt by it. The dinosaurs happened to get caught in the middle of a quarrel between me and the Creator and that was that.  You do not want a repeat of that scene, I promise you.  Or maybe you do.  Maybe we’re going to find out.  That’s how angry I am.  Your behavior is a slap in my face, and don’t think I won’t slap back. I will. Promise.

You’re the only species that has made a practice of killing your own kind, did you know that?  The rest of the family are disgusted by this. To make matters worse, you glorify it in your games and your stories like it’s a good thing.  I hang my head. When I think that children of mine are doing this, I want to die. I do.

You cannot leave your spent rods and your empty drums and your plastic gyres lying around the house like it’s the morning after a frat party and not expect to suffer the consequences!

You cannot not pump me full of your potions like I’m some daft heiress you’re poisoning for her dowry and expect to get away with it!

You cannot not take what is mine and pretend it is yours without waking up someday to the reality that you are a generation of thieves!

Here’s an idea for you.  Leave!  Move out of the house!  If this is the way you’re going to treat me, take your smokestacks off the roof and your jet skis out of the driveway and get out!  The rest of us can use the room. The coyotes would be happy to have your bedroom.  Do you think the trees care whether or not we have cable?  Probably not.

You are my Children, and this should not have to be our relationship. Truly, though, I am at my wits end, at a loss for what to do about the horrible way you are treating me.

Please do better.  There’s still time to heal these wounds, but not a lot.

Love,

Your Mother

‘Yes and’ Artfully

Wednesday, March 9th, 2011

The basic building block of improvisation is ‘Yes and.’  The premise of every statement improvisers make is one of agreement and addition.  Scenes move forward by ratcheting along with the ‘tool’ of yes-and like a climber finding holds on the side of a mountain…

MountainConnect1BYes, we are here, and I see a place we can grab over there.  Yes!  A new crack reveals itself, and we grab it.  We see another hold and we make the move.  Yes, and now we’re experiencing the mountain from a new perspective.  Multiple new holds appear, and one hold at a time, with each move accompanied by a thousand little calculations that are faster than conscious thought, we move up the face of the mountain.

Beginning improvisation students tend to use the phrase ‘Yes and’ literally.  Skilled players discover infinite ways to ‘Yes and’ without necessarily using the words themselves.  This keeps technique in the background where it belongs.  A scene in which every player begins every contribution with the words ‘Yes and’ will get sing-songy in a hurry, and that’s not what we want.  We want nuance.  Refinement.  We want technique to be second nature so that it becomes invisible to our audience, and we can pay attention fully to the realities of the environment and our fellow players.  That’s gamechanging leadership.

Gamechanging is the art of doing what’s best for the scene.  That means knowing a lot of different ways to yes-and.  GameChangers yes-and artfully, with technique taking a backseat to the scene’s objective.

They can do it with a smile and a supporting comment.  Or

A reaction and a correction. Or

With constructive criticism. Or

By giving gifts to their scene partners and making them look good.  Or

By seeing and adding to the environment. Or

By joining in the shop talk of the scene. Or

By keeping the scene focused on its objective. Or

By supporting the scene from offstage. Or

By making declarative statements instead of interrogating scene partners. Or

By energizing and heightening the emotional level of the scene.  Or

By emphasizing convergence on a solution when a divergence of ideas gets unwieldy. Or

By doing what our friend Kristen Parrinello calls ‘invisible work’ (@invisiblework is her Twitter handle), the little moves that are so subtle as to be invisible to the audience.

Walt Disney used to call yes-anding (and Pixar Animation has taken to calling it) ‘plussing.’  Add something to the scene, and if you don’t have anything to add, get off the stage.

Not that you shouldn’t practice yes-anding by literally using those two words.  You should.  Use them as a kind of warm-up or rehearsal, like you’d practice the basic forms in ballet or the scales in music.  When the game is on, and you’re in the heat of a big scene, ‘Yes and’ may not literally pop up in your dialogue, but the technique will be there, invisible and inaudible, doing its work, ratcheting you and your team to the summit of whatever mountain you choose to climb.

Revolution 2.0

Thursday, February 10th, 2011

We don’t normally delve into politics here, but what’s happening right now in Egypt is too universally relevant to ignore.  So park your politics at the door and drink up…

WaelGhonim1

Wael Ghonim

Wael Ghonim, Google’s marketing manager for the Middle East and North Africa, had been held captive by the Egyptian government for 12 days.   Recently released, he has been doing interviews describing what’s going on his country in which he describes it as an internet revolution, ‘Revolution 2.0′  is the name he has given it.  Here’s a 5-minute CNN interview with him (sorry for the link out, embedding has been disabled).

‘Revolution 2.0′ is a classic example of how a scene breaks down when a leader doesn’t share the narrative with a team.  It doesn’t matter whether the scene plays out over 30 years, as with Mubarak’s reign, or whether it’s the duration of your company’s offsite, the dynamic is the same:  Scenes in which one player tries to script and control the narrative are doomed to fall apart in a networked environment.

Not that I’m putting myself in the same lame league as a world-class scene hog like Hosni Mubarak, but ’scripting’ is my own biggest challenge as an improviser performing on stage.  For much of my career, I got paid for telling stories.  I made a career out of coming up with ideas that others on my team were tasked with implementing.  I led by articulating a vision that others would follow.

And then…

Through improvisation I have come to see that when you participate in a narrative without controlling it, the stories tell themselves.  I understand now that collaboration is the shortest path to implementation.  I realize that vision is only as good as what you can see in the moment, and that the best leadership is actually skillful following in disguise.

‘Revolution 2.0′ is a demonstration of the power of a shared narrative, and a global referendum on what leadership will look like in the Networked World. The Egyptian narrative belongs to the Egyptian people and the harder Hosni Mubarak works at controlling it, the more obvious this fact is going to become.

(UPDATE:  AT 8 AM PST ON FEB 11, 2011, HOSNI MUBARAK RESIGNED.  THE PEOPLE OF EGYPT ARE OVERJOYED.  CONGRATS TO WAEL GHONIM AND ALL EGYPTIANS ON THE END OF A BAD SCENE AND THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ONE!)

Quili

Tuesday, February 1st, 2011

I was thrilled last Wednesday to have lunch with Phillip Spolin, nephew of Viola Spolin, the godmother of modern improvisation.  Phillip had some kind of two-pronged plastic thing in the breast pocket of his jacket, and throughout our meal, I’d steal glances at it, wondering what it was.  A pair of glasses?  A couple of pens?  I was so caught up during our lunch in his stories about Viola that I never got to ask him.PhillipSpolin_Quili1

After lunch, I left the restaurant a minute behind him, and he was in the parking lot waiting for me, with the thing that was in his pocket in his hand.  It was a plastic figurine in a dancer’s pose.  (The two ‘prongs’ were its legs.)  He explained it to me that it was called a Quili, and that an artist friend of his, John Perry, had invented it.

On Friday, we were going to be doing a GameChangers event, and I’d been looking for some kind of prize to give away to participants.  Quilis would be perfect.  Our theme was ‘Connect the Dots,’ and that’s exactly what Quilis are designed to do–connect with one another in unique configurations with the super-strong rare earth magnets in their hands, feet and heads. Perfect alignment with our theme.

Spolin put me in touch with Perry, who lives in Agoura on a small ranch at the end of a winding gravel road.  He provided us with 20 Quilis, including several that aren’t yet on the market, for Friday’s event.  Perry had been designing refrigerator magnets five years ago when he came up with the idea for Quilis, and began making prototypes.  He had to design around an old patent on a small wooden cowboy figurine from the 1960s that had magnets in its hands and feet.  The patentable difference is that Quilis can stand alone without magnetism.  “Quilis don’t balance,” explained Perry.  “They stand.”

The current line of Quilis is available at museum and gallery gift shops.  The new line will be featured in the gift shop of the Kodak Theater when Cirque du Soleil begins a long-term engagement there this July.

In certain ways, improvisers are like Quilis.  They can connect with one another, with their environment and the objects in it.  (Rich Talarico calls it ‘Velcro-ing”)  They use their spines to help define character.  They don’t balance.  They stand.Quili_PerryCaption1

The Oakley Coda

Thursday, December 16th, 2010

Back in October, when the 33 Chilean miners emerge from the mine where they have been trapped for 69 days, they are all wearing Oakley sunglasses.  Every journalist covering their emergence comments on it.   Every photo of every rescued miner–and how many impressions is that worldwide?  Billions? Trillions? Chillions?—shows them wearing their Oakleys.  I’ve been following the narrative for a while, and long after the rescue has ended happily, I am still curious how those sunglasses got on those 33 billboards faces for all the world to see.LosMineros_Oakleys

Three weeks ago, I contact a friend, Kurt Kochman, who used to work at Oakley (he’s now the Web Customer Experience Manager for Skechers) who puts me in touch with an executive at Oakley, who puts me in touch with a PR person from Oakley named Diane, who puts me in touch with journalist in Chile named Jonathan Franklin, who Diane says, “Knows the story better than we do.” Hmm. A non-Oakley person who knows the Oakley story better than Oakley does? This is my kind of branding. No wonder I wear Oakleys.

Jonathan Franklin

Jonathan Franklin

The Chilean miners, it turns out, come out of that mine wearing Oakleys because Jonathan Franklin works his way through school in the 1980s by selling sunglasses.  There’s a lot more to it than that, of course, but that is how the thread begins. “I’ve always been a fanatic for sunglasses,” says Franklin when we speak on Skype this week. “When I was in college [at Brown University], I made my living selling sunglasses.  I had a company called All I Wear. We had ten or twelve students covering campuses up and down the East Coast. I’ve also been a street vendor of sunglasses.  Good ones. Vuarnets. Ray Bans. Oakley wasn’t on my radar yet.”

Here is what happens between Jonathan Franklin’s college years and the rescue in Chile that results in the miners wearing Oakleys:

2) Twelve years ago, Franklin moves to Chile where he works as a correspondent for The Guardian. He also freelances all over the Americas for publications like GQ, Esquire and Playboy. He embraces the Chilean culture, loves it there, gets married there, begins raising a family there.

3)  In 2003, five years after the move to Chile, while covering a story in North Carolina for GQ about the World SWAT Championships, meets Erik Poston, a sales rep for Oakley. He and Poston bond over their mutual interest in sunglasses technology. “He took time off from whatever he was doing to talk about the optics in sunglasses,” says Franklin. “Oakleys are great in the deserts or the mountains.”

(We call this mutual interest, or agreement, ‘finding the game.’  It is game that will pay off for its players seven years later.)

4)  When he arrives on the scene of the August mine accident in Copiapo, 800 km east of Santiago where he lives, Franklin is the only print journalist given a ‘rescue pass, which means he has full access to the rescue site, and regular conversations with the miners. His pass designates his job on the rescue site as ‘Writer.’

5) A few weeks after the miners get discovered still alive, Franklin sits in on a meeting at which the subject is the design of the rescue vessel [The Phoenix].  “Talk about improvisation,” he says, “there’s never been anything like this. At one point, they said they’d need sunglasses for the guys. They just kind of skipped right over it, said they’d get safety glasses or something.  They had so many things to think about that they just skipped right over the glasses.  I raised my hand and said, ‘Excuse me, I am only a journalist, and I don’t mean to be butting in, but why don’t you get the guys some Oakleys or some real sunglasses?  And they said we don’t care about that.  And I said how about if I’m in charge of sunglasses?  So they said okay, fine, one less thing for us to worry about, you’re in charge of sunglasses.”

(This is classic ‘yes-anding’ by Franklin.  Yes-anding can move a scene in an unexpectedly productive direction.  It can also, as it does here, transform a trivial detail into something important and valuable.  These little twists are the stuff great stories are made of.)

6) “God knows why, but I had saved the guy from Oakley’s business card. So I write him a letter.   I said I’m a journalist, I’m not going to make a penny off this, but if you get me the glasses, I’ll get them to the miners.”

7) Oakley responds immediately. They ask for specs. The Chilean Navy, which is tending to the miners’ health, sends the specs. Anatomical, so that debris and dirt won’t get in. And dark. 1oo% UV and UVB ratings. Research scientists at Oakley go back and forth with the Navy a few times until they get the best lenses on the most appropriate frames. They ship 35 customized pairs to the Copiapo mine.

The glasses arrive at the last minute. A Navy doctor sends them down the rescue chute. When they come back up, they are on smiling faces surrounded by more smiling faces, and the rest…is eyewear history.

IMG_0523“The Chileans were very grateful,” says Franklin. “The miners, before they were released, were very grateful.  And it was good for everyone.  I know Oakley has gotten criticized for exploiting the situation, but the CEO of Oakley, who sent me the glasses, had totally forgotten about it.  He was watching the rescue on TV, and the first miner pops up and he’s wearing Oakleys, and the CEO says to his wife, ‘How about that, he’s wearing our glasses!’  And the second miner pops up, and he’s wearing Oakleys, and the CEO said, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s right, we sent them some of our glasses!’  He’d totally forgotten about it.”

Lots to be learned from the Oakley Coda:

If you add something productive to every situation you’re in, outcomes take care of themselves.

Subject matter expertise is a good point of connection.

Minor roles in one scene can become major roles in the next scene.

Don’t persuade, participate. The best way to influence the game is by playing it.

Give gifts to your scene partners. Your expertise can be a gift.

Be sensitive to context. If you join a scene in progress, have a good reason why.

Meaningful connections have a long shelf life. This is relevant to network economies, where meaningful connections can be ‘parked’ indefinitely, until a scene calls for them.

Narrative trumps nationality.

Do the good thing in the moment, and the better thing will happen down the line.

Damn, I can’t think of them all! There’s a lot! Find something for yourself in this story and put it in play. Good things will happen as a result. There is a science to serendipity.

You cannot script a story like this. You cannot bake it into your media plan. You cannot buy it, for any price. No one at Oakley could have caused it to happen. If they had tried to achieve the same outcome on their own, it would have come across as rank exploitation. They would’ve never penetrated the inner circle at Copiapo. Instead, they had a conversation. Way back when, they planted a seed. When conditions were right, that seed grew and blossomed into something beautiful, something money could not buy—an incredible narrative.

If you’d like to soak up more of the Chilean miners’ story, you’ll want to pick up the book Jonathan Franklin is writing. It comes out February, 2011.

Zero History Lessons

Friday, November 12th, 2010
William Gibson

William Gibson

Where trajectories of fashion, business, government and technology will someday intersect, William Gibson is already there, reporting back in mindbending detail.  His novels are, for me anyway, like books of code, densely-clued mysteries about the near future, that challenge a present-day intelligence to unravel them.  Here is one clue that gets dropped over and over again in Gibson’s newest novel, Zero History:

In the future, improvisation is a must-do.

Page 135:  “Doing it, as a pickpocket had once advised him, as if it were not only the expected but the only thing to do.”  The improvisation:  When you invest in your scene, the scene makes choices for you.  ‘Doing what’s expected’ is someone else’s script for you, it’s a voice in your head that’s not even your own.  ‘Doing the only thing to do’ is the feeling that you are in tune with everyone and everything around you.  It is acting on the clarity of one’s intuition instead of  obeying the voices stored in the RAM of one’s rational mind.  Just don’t be using your new-found powers to pick pockets.  Not all improvisation is put to work for the good of the team.  Beware the bad game!

Page 171:  “THE ORDER FLOW” (Chapter title.)  Gibson’s characters talk about “the inability to aggregate the order flow”—the sum of everything being bought and sold around the world at any given moment in time—as being the dynamic that keeps markets alive.  “Stability’s the beginning of the end,” says the character of Milgrim, a high-level intuitive, quoting an even more intuitive base jumper named Garreth.  “We only walk by continually beginning to fall forward.”  The improvisation:  Always fall forward, never stand still.  Turn fails immediately into positives.  Embrace flow.  Stasis—a static state—is the enemy.  Harness chaos with structure.  Subvert structure with flow.

ZeroHistory1Page 202:  Garreth talking about whether a phone call that’s crucial to their fates will happen or not:  “Either way, we’ve moved it forward.”  The improvisation:  ‘Something happening’ and ’something not happening’ are both opportunities to move your scene forward.  Don’t worry about what will or won’t happen, do something with whatever happens.

Page 225:  “You’re just doing this to see what happens,” says Milgrim.  The improvisation:  Do something and see what happens.

Page 234:  “…some kind of London PR hive-mind thing,” says a character named Heidi, a biker chick who uses taser-tipped darts as her weapon of choice.  “Wires are hot but there’s no actual signal.  Kind of subsonic buzz.”  The improvisation:  This is a description of the group mind.  Nothing perceptible is communicated.  What the group needs to know is simply, without ever being consciously transmitted, already there, waiting to be shared.

Page 319:  “Follow the accident.  Fear the set plan,”  says Garreth.  “I thought you loved plans,” says Heidi.  “Love planning.  That’s different.  But the right bit of improv makes the piece.”  The improvisation:  Think of your process as a series of scenes, in Gibson’s lingo, ‘pieces.’  Preparation is more important than planning.  Planning goes out the window in the first few beats of your scene, but preparation will be there for you throughout.

Zero History also has juicy insights into the future of marketing and brand strategy, which I’ll post separately.

Now go do something to see what happens.