Archive for the 'design' Category

Giving thanks to Artists and Organizations

So many artists and organizations are out there doing interesting things, but it takes more than a cursory glance at their work to appreciate fully what they have to contribute. In today’s busy world, not everyone has time to do that on their own, and thus many artists and innovators go unappreciated. Fortunately for you, noble reader, the nsavides blog is here to help.

Below are links to a few of the artists and organizations I’ve profiled on the nsavides blog, arranged from newest to oldest. I hope you’ll find something of interest, someone for whom you can give thanks. On that note, I wish you and your loved ones a warm and festive Thanksgiving. Cheers!

 

1. Martin Scorsese

The iconic NY director is known for his gangster films, but he also has a spiritual side that you might have missed: http://blog.nsavides.com/2012/11/02/scorsese-new-yorker-cinemas-dostoyevsky

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2. Zappos

This online shoe company has developed a legendary service reputation. Here’s what happened when I decided to find out for myself if their service lives up to the hype:

http://blog.nsavides.com/2012/06/06/zappos-happiness-in-a-hopeless-place-a-love-story

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3. John Ford

The man who turned the Western into a well respected art form around the world was also a great American. Here’s why: http://blog.nsavides.com/2012/03/04/john-ford-tough-guy-filmmaker-american

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4. Will Eisner

The godfather of today’s graphic novels showed us that comic books can be more than children’s books: http://blog.nsavides.com/2011/12/01/will-eisner-graphic-novel-godfather-dreamer

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5. J.K. Rowling

Why the Harry Potter series is better and has more depth than “adult” novels from critically acclaimed writers like Philip Roth: http://blog.nsavides.com/2011/10/29/spooky-goodness-of-harry-potter

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6. George Stevens

This director of classic films like Swing Time, Shane, Giant, A Place in the Sun, and The Greatest Story Ever Told is not widely considered to be one of the world’s greatest directors. Here’s why he should be:

http://blog.nsavides.com/2011/05/03/the-fight-to-canonize-director-george-stevens

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7. Cameron Crowe
This esteemed director behind films like Say Anything, Almost Famous, and Jerry Maguire makes being optimistic look cool again: http://blog.nsavides.com/2010/12/23/rock__roll_warrior_for_optimism

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8.  Small Giants

In this seminal business book, Inc. editor Bo Burlingham makes the case that successful businesses can also be soulful and considerate: http://blog.nsavides.com/2010/07/06/small-giants

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9. Pixar

Pixar is the only movie studio in the United States that has a 100% track record of producing hits. This might have something to do with it:

http://blog.nsavides.com/2010/04/11/an-ode-to-the-super-genius-of-pixar

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10. Target

The company shows us how to have good taste without being snobby about it: http://blog.nsavides.com/2008/11/08/why-target-doesnt-feel-corporate

Will Eisner: Graphic Novel Godfather, Dreamer

“Dreamers journey through life to a cadence all their own. They make decisions or enter undertakings that often seem naive and confounding to the pragmatists, who, in the end, thrive on opportunities set in motion by fantasy and imaginings. This is a story about a dreamer.” That’s how Will Eisner introduced his graphic novel The Dreamer. It also works as an introduction to the man himself.

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I enjoy reading graphic novels and comic books. They showcase some of the most inventive storytelling on the market, but I discovered Will Eisner only recently.  I don’t know what took me so long.

It’s not like he’s an obscure guy in the comics world. The Eisner Awards that recognize excellence in American comics are named after him, and his Contract with God and other Tenement Stories is widely considered to be one of the first graphic novels. Even if it wasn’t the very first, it helped to transform the juvenile world of comics into sophisticated adult reading, paving the way for Art Spiegelman’s Pulitzer Prize-winning graphic novel, Maus.

Eisner was working on his seminal comic series The Spirit in the 1940s when comics were starting to go out of fashion.  As Neil Gaiman writes in his introduction to The Best of the Spirit, “his contemporaries dreamed of getting out of the comics ghetto and into more lucrative and respectable places.” Not Will Eisner.

He was more interested in producing something great out of his passion than in pursuing what others considered reputable. I admire that.

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Make no mistake, Eisner is a master at what he does. Most comic books are written by one person and illustrated by another. Eisner does both in top-notch form.

Flip to a random page of his work and you’ll probably find panels with heightened, dynamic action next to carefully delineated portraits that reveal character. The equivalent of that would be a Jean Claude Van Damme type winning an Oscar for his layered performance as Mr. Darcy in Jane Austin’s beloved classic Pride and Prejudice.

Speaking of which, when Eisner isn’t illustrating his own stories, he is adapting material from classic texts. I was particularly impressed by his adaption of Moby Dick. Herman Melville’s novel took me weeks and weeks to finish. It’s worth the time, but it’s no easy read. In contrast, Eisner’s children’s book version is 32 pages, so I read it in less than an hour.

Moby Dick – Will Eisner, 2003

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Despite the dramatic difference in length, Eisner’s edition nails the essence of the story, with themes intact and everything. Impressive.

In previous posts, I’ve defended optimistic art because I don’t think it gets the respect it deserves. I like Eisner’s work, but he is no warrior for optimism like Cameron Crowe or Harry Potter. It is a darker world Eisner conveys full of shady underworld types, vicious wife beaters, and treacherous females. Justice shows up less and less in his later work, and when she does, it isn’t always pretty.

It has taken me some time to appreciate that kind of storytelling. My inclination is to offer some kind of hope. After all, don’t most people already have enough real-life experiences to sense that life is sometimes cruel and unfair? Why focus on that side of things? It is sort of like inviting company over to your house and then forcing them to stare at your unwashed toilet.

Choosing to clean the toilet does not take away from the reality that the toilet was once unclean. It just points to another reality, that you care enough about your guests to give them a more sanitary experience. Besides, the reality of the toilet does not negate all the other, more appealing parts of the house.

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Still, there is a place for stories that delve into the soiled corners.  Storytellers can, for example, depict violence in an exploitative way that fuels our basest instincts or they can search for the truth behind the violence. The first is reprehensible. The second is instructive and possibly a step closer to peace. Eisner does the latter by bestowing a sense of humanity even to his lowlifes.

There are some monsters in this world and many of them work in the entertainment business, ladies and gentlemen. Fortunately I have seen films like Robert Altman’s The Player, so I am not entirely caught off guard. That’s the value of Eisner’s  occasionally grimy stories: They warn of the dark things that humans are capable of doing. The prudent reader will observe and take caution, perhaps saving himself future grief.

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That’s not a new outlook. When I read The Federalist Papers I was surprised by how often the writers would suggest that a wise government is one designed to anticipate inevitable deficiencies of character. In contemporary political treatises, the notion of human fallibility has been whitewashed into politically correct platitudes, where citizens are mostly enlightened types (excluding, of course, those employed by corporations) who always act in the best interest of everyone involved.

Having lots of self-actualized types working to make things better for everyone sounds appealing, but history’s tragedies warn us that those in power aren’t always so noble.

Read enough Eisner and you might be less inclined to forget that humans have been, and still remain, creatures of light and shadow. Eisner offers enough examples of heroism so as not to dissuade us entirely from hoping for the best in others, but his work also reminds us to tread carefully just in case people don’t heed their better angels. After all, to err is human, or so they say. So they say.

In more conventional comic books, the bad guy meets his demise when the good guy gets him: Justice is serviced with a Pow! That kind of set up finds its way into Will Eisner’s stories as well, but sometimes the villain’s own vices do the deed.

New York Life in the Big City – Will Eisner, 2006

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In stories like “The Last Trolley,” “Martha & The Renaissance Primitive,” and “The Last Hand,”  the Spirit’s role is reduced to an observer. Basically all he has to do is show up and watch as the guilty ones self-destruct.

As a force for good, the Spirit’s mere presence tends to serve as catalyst for that destruction; His decency makes them so uncomfortable that they will do anything to escape it, including confession. Coming from a comic-book writer, that’s not too shabby an insight, don’t you think?

Eisner doesn’t flinch from depicting the dark side of human nature, but he still manages to suggest that the villains too have inherent value, that they too might be worth saving, if possible. Sometimes he allows the bad guys little endearing or comedic moments. Other times, like in “Christmas Spirit of 1948″ or “Satin,” Eisner makes us despise someone at first but then turns the tables and asks us to sympathize.

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In Contract with God and other Tenement Stories,  Eisner doesn’t clearly portray his characters as being good or evil. That way we’re more sympathetic when something unfortunate happens to someone who may have done bad things.

I suggested earlier that Eisner brought respectability to the once lowly art form of comics. That’s actually not a bad way to frame his artistic sensibilities as well. He likes to take lowly, unappealing subjects and give them dignity.

In the hands of lesser artists, The Spirit could have easily become another pulpy detective-hero story. Eisner turned it into a compelling, psychologically astute series, one that allows f0r the occasional intrusion of supernatural mystery.

In his New York Life in the Big City graphic novel, he gives the city’s underbelly a poetic quality, and my guess is that his inclination to bring dignity to the ugly things influenced his decision to tackle The Princess and the Frog.

Then there is Eisner’s Fagin the Jew. In it, he retells Oliver Twist from the perspective of Fagin. Fagin is still a villain who tries to lead little Oliver astray, but we discover that his childhood was very similar to Oliver’s. Fagin too was abandoned at a young age. Fagin too is given a fortuitous opportunity to get established within respectable society, but there was just one small problem.

You see Fagin was a Jew, and back then respectable society didn’t take too kindly to Jews. And so, all of Fagin’s legitimate efforts to advance himself are thwarted. To survive he is forced into a life of crime.

Fagin the Jew – Will Eisner, 2003

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Oh, those respectable societies back then. They were quite adept at saying the right things, but how different things would have been if they had actually lived up to their stirring rhetoric. But anyway, things were very different back then. Now days, well now days, respectable society is a whole new breed, very modern, very reformed, or so they say. So they say.

At first glance, some of Eisner’s stories seem a little bleaker than I’d prefer. In the stories themselves, justice isn’t always served. The stories with a hero end happily, but sometimes there is no hero who steps up to do the right thing.  That leads to tragedies great and small, but that’s not the end of it.

Someone did observe the wrongs, the injustices that crippled the characters in Eisner’s stories. There was a hero lurking in the shadows after all. His name was Will Eisner.

Will Eisner, 1982

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He used his consummate skills to entertain, yes, but also to tell the truth. He saw wrongs that needed to be righted, and he did something about them, bringing the sordid spots into the light where they are easier to clean. Read his work and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be a little bit more inclined to help in the cleaning.

If cleaning doesn’t sound all that appealing, well maybe you should still go ahead and take that shower anyway. I’ll appreciate it, and so will Procter & Gamble or whoever else supplies your personal hygiene products. Thank you very much.

After you’ve done that, please consider the words of Einstein, “The world is a dangerous place. Not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don’t do anything about it.” So smart, that Einstein.

There aren’t many real heroes in the world, and I don’t want to dilute the word’s meaning by using it to describe someone who is merely talented at what he does, but Will Eisner is the real deal.

 

The last book Eisner produced before he died was Plot: The Secret Story of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. Published in 2005, it is the culmination of more than 20 years of Eisner’s research, and it tells the true story of one of history’s most infamous forgeries.

The Protocols of the Elders of Zion has been used throughout the world to spread hatred of the Jews. The KKK distributed it. Hitler cited it as a key influence, and Muslim radicals still reference it as a factual source, even though it has been categorically refuted by countless historians.

Ask the local occupier scene kids, the supposed 99 percent,  if they have heard of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I bet many have. I bet some will claim that it reveals the truth about the Jews in power. That’s been my experience talking with some of them, anyway. How appalling that the old lies are still very much alive and well, but how encouraging that Eisner spent so much time and effort trying to refute them.

Protocols of the Elders of Zion – French edition, 1934

 

Eisner admits that Plot required more research than any other story that he produced, and the research is evident in the historical sources he references to prove the forgery.

Interestingly enough, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, that evil document which has done an inconceivable amount of damage to the world for over a hundred years, was the work of just one man. That’s how evil tends to operate. It has taken a community of decent, diligent folks like Will Eisner to slowly repair the damage. That’s how goodness tends to operate.

I’m not trying to take anything away from Eisner’s remarkable body of work, but I consider Plot: The Secret Story of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion to be his most important work. Eisner was a practicing Jew throughout his life, so it is not inappropriate, I think, to say that Plot is his strongest contribution to tikkun olam. That’s a Hebrew phrase for “repairing of the world.”

As fate would have it, the true story that inspired Eisner’s first graphic novel made the last one possible. In later interviews, Eisner admitted that the premature death of his own daughter led him to write Contract with God. In that story, a good man undergoes a crisis of faith and becomes jaded when his adopted daughter dies at an early age. He sees her death as a senseless injustice, and it becomes the defining tragedy of his life.

Contract with God – Will Eisner, 1978

 

Had Will Eisner’s own daughter not died in a seemingly unfair manner, then he would have been far less aware of the ongoing injustices around him. Without that tragic experience, I doubt that Eisner would have found the resilience to take on the ongoing injustices perpetuated by the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

Contract with God is a story written out of anger, but still Eisner allows for the possibility that there is a bigger purpose behind the seeming unfairness of the tragedy. At the end of the story, a young man comes across the original contract with God, and he vows to honor it. The story ends before we learn what becomes of that young man. Eisner himself didn’t yet know where his own tragedy would lead him, so his ending parallels his own outlook at the time.

I don’t know what it is like to lose a child, but I have my own reasons to be angry at God. It is one thing to sense that you are asked to help a cute, vulnerable baby. It is quite another thing to sense that you are being asked to help someone you consider, at times, to be a hypocritical monstrosity, a glorified product, a creature who lives a life of privilege but has done everything possible to hurt you.

I’ve tried to avoid that fate, but it is not as easy as you might think. Go ask Jonah if you want a second opinion on that.

To be fair, when I am tempted to focus for too long on the monstrous deeds of others, I am reminded of the horrible things I too have done. I too can be just as monstrous if I’m left to my own devices, but I don’t wish to be left.

That desire to become something better than what I’ve been allows a greater good to guide my steps. It is the source behind my optimism, behind my perseverance. I call that God.

Be that as it may, it is not my fault that the person in question is screwed up. I had nothing to do with it. Besides, I’ve done the best I could and it was not enough, and I have my own issues. It feels like I’m fighting windmills, and I’m getting tired of that feeling.

 

Speaking of which, Eisner also illustrated Don Quixote. His version is called the Last Knight. Eisner sees Don Quixote as another dreamer who endured mockery and bravely fought for something more noble than the reality at hand.

Still, Don Quixote appears foolish when he is the only one who sees the world a certain way. It’s when others buy into the merit of seeing the world as it should be and not as it is,  when they too dare to dream the impossible dream, that Don Quixote  stops looking so foolish.

Come to think of it, he starts to look more like King Arthur. Really, the main differences between Don Quixote and King Arthur can be explained away by their companions. Don Quixote had only Sancho Panza. Arthur had all the Knights of the Roundtable plus Merlin the Magician. Truly, optimism is a team sport, ladies and gentlemen.

I want to believe in the best in people. I want to believe in tikkun olam. It was the optimistic films that got me interested in filmmaking, not films like Chinatown, in spite of what all the screenwriting books might suggest.

(Has there ever been a screenwriting book worth its weight that did not include page upon compelling page of in-depth analysis on Chinatown? I get it. Chinatown is a great film, but so is It’s a Wonderful Life, and that doesn’t get anywhere near the amount of ink. Why is that?)

New York: A Life in the Big City – Will Eisner, 2006

 

Here’s the thing though: pursuing a film career has threatened my capacity to sustain a sense of optimism, the very thing that got me interested in filmmaking in the first place. I don’t know that I can sustain my efforts much longer. There is only so much heartache I can take without seeing progress, and the last few weeks have been some of the most discouraging moments of my life.

This time, I can’t turn it into a happy ending without your help, ladies and gentlemen.

I’ve already done a write-up on director Frank Capra, the director responsible for It’s a Wonderful Life, but allow me to close by mentioning him again. He’s one of my favorite artists, so I hope Will Eisner won’t hold it against me too much.

According to some biographers, young Frank Capra was a bit of huckster, a conman even, the sort of struggling rogue Will Eisner might have featured in his stories. Capra grew up poor in the mean Italian ghettos of Los Angeles, so that doesn’t seem implausible. Consider too that his films like Meet John Doe and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington showcase men who first discover themselves to be  phonies before they decide to stand for something.

The biographers suggest that at the start of his film career Capra came close to leaving town  with other people’s money, money that was meant to fund Capra’s early films. Had he done that, Capra would have killed his chances at becoming an established filmmaker, and he would have never made the films that inspired so many people. For some reason though, he stayed.

There is speculation that he stayed because of a mysterious stranger to whom Capra repeatedly alluded. In his autobiography, Capra does not name the man but credits him with reawakening his conscience at key moments of his life. For whatever reason that stranger took interest in Capra and helped him do the right thing, and for that reason he may have been the determining variable that allowed Frank Capra’s life to start as an Eisner illustration and end as a Capra film.

Tikkun olam only happens if enough people want it to happen, help it to happen. Do you want it to happen? The ending of it all will depend on your answer. Choose wisely, my friends.

 

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The Glories of Design Thinking for Everyone

Good design is life-affirming. It makes us feel like someone cared enough to make something that we will enjoy.  The deliberate beauty inherent in good design is proof that existence is not all chaos and suffering, so hooray for that.

BMW Museum, headquarters

Photo credit: flickr.com/max78

One of my favorite design companies is IDEO.  The company was founded by David Kelley, because as he told Fast Company, “I had an intuition I couldn’t survive corporate America. I hated the hierarchy and just wanted to work with my friends.”   What’s not to love about that?

The current CEO for IDEO is Tim Brown.  In an earlier post, I looked at his ideas about playfulness.  This time I want to focus on another TED Talk he gave.  It’s here below:

[ted id=646]

Most striking to me is his challenge to wrestle design away from the “priesthood” of designers and give it back to everyone. Mr. Brown explains that you don’t have to study design for years to use its principles.  Just think about how someone else will use a particular product or service and adjust accordingly.  When other people start smiling while experiencing what you do, then you’ll know you’re on the right track.

This got me thinking about the kinds of everyday things that are well designed.  Here are a few examples:   If you’re buying furniture at Target you’ll notice that all the display items have an easy-to-see red circle with a number.  To ensure the furniture you buy is the same as the one you saw on the display, all you have to do is match the circles and the numbers.

Simple, but a lot of stores don’t do that, and that means there’s more of a chance that someone will buy the wrong item.

Photo credit: flickr.com/bhamsandwich

The recycling program here in Chesapeake provides a blue recycling bin that is the same size as the city’s trash cans.  The lid on the recycling bin features colored pictures and words that illustrate what can and cannot be recycled. It is now so convenient to recycle that someone would have to exert more mental effort to avoid doing so.

Suppose, though, that the bin wasn’t the same size as the trash can and it had no picture. Then, I might notice that the recycling box is already full and out of reach.  Suppose too that I wasn’t sure about whether the bottle I was holding could be recycled.  Instead of taking the time to Google it, I would just throw the bottle in the trash. The thoughtful design of the city’s recycling bin undermines that possibility.

These days when I play a new video game, I first like to try it without reading instructions.  It’s not just because I’m a guy who avoid instructions on principle to demonstrate manliness.  Rather, I want to notice the kinds of clues that the developers added to aid my progress, and besides the better designed games render the manuals redundant.

In those kinds of games, not only do you learn where to start, but you also get contextual hints if you linger too long in one spot, and should you run into trouble too soon, healing potions appear.  That way you won’t get too discouraged before you’ve had a chance to get immersed in the game.  Wouldn’t it be great if consumer electronics like cameras or WiFi routers did similar things?

Photo credit: flickr.com/adobemac

In regards to books, when I see a chapter that approaches a hundred pages, I think to myself, “oh man, how will I finish this?   Not too long thereafter I end up doing something else.  (Perhaps you, my noble reader, can relate.  I don’t write the shortest of posts, I know, but I’m working on it.  Until then, maybe you can just look at the pictures and nod solemnly  a few times as you pretend to read.)

In comparison, Stephen King generally keeps his chapters short.  It’s the literary way of saying, “come on fella.  You can do it.  Just a few more pages and you’ll finish off another chapter.”  This is not to say that Mr. King’s books are hard to read.  He knows how to keep his audience engaged, so the pages basically turn themselves.

The Right of the Road - Fredric Remington, 1900

A few more examples: A masterful painter adjusts his composition so that the vanishing points, sight lines, and areas of contrast guide your eyes to the important parts.  Or, think about all the Westerns you’ve seen.  When the bad guys wear mostly black and the good guys wear mostly white, isn’t it easier to tell what’s happening in a big gunfight or bar brawl?  Without color clues to distinguish the warring factions, action scenes sometimes devolve into noisy confusion.

But, you don’t have to be a movie maker to bring design thinking into your world.  If you turn off your wipers when going through the tolls then you’re designing a better experience for the attendant who won’t get splashed with water.  If you write company policies in readable English, then you might actually get employees to read them without resorting to threats.

Photo credit: flickr.com/bhamsandwich

Do you have any additional suggestions about how others could design a better experience for you at work or at play?  If so, please share them.

Should you, for some freak reason, want to design a better experience for me in regards to this blog, then you could leave comments or share your gratitude if you appreciate my writing.  I’m not doing this for a paycheck, so it keeps me motivated when I know that I’m doing something others value and find helpful. Also, if you happen to be planning your will in the near future, I could use a foundation of some kind because, you know, that does look nice on the ole resume.

There’s another way you can help.  One of the things I do when I’m not writing or sharing meals with the stars—and by stars I mean the illustrious ones in the sky— is technical support for Canon.

On behalf of the world’s technical support representatives, let me humbly ask you to graciously AVOID WRITING IN ALL CAPS.  It is not enjoyable to read.    We want to help you.  Help us help you.

One more thing, and this is more of a personal issue, so take it with a grain of salt, or spice it up with a dash of pepper, if you prefer.  Here goes: when you say ASAP, you might think that you are communicating your cleverness and efficiency by saving the 2.3 seconds that it would take to say something more personable like “as soon as you can.”  Unfortunately that is not the case.

Furthermore, you might also believe that by writing ASAP repeatedly and then underlining  it and highlighting it and maybe even putting glitter on it, you are bumping your inquiry to the front of the ASAP queue. This too is a tragic inaccuracy.

Just be honest about your situation and treat people with respect, and you’ll get much better results most of the time.

Photo credit: flickr.com/austinevan

In closing, we can all show others that we care through the things we design, even if we’re not professional designers.  It’s just a matter of doing unto others as you’d have them do unto you and doing so in an elegant way.

A Celebration and a Warning Regarding Playfulness

If your life doesn’t have enough playtime then there might be something seriously wrong with you, at least that’s what Dr. Stuart Brown, founder of the National Institute of Play, suggests.  I’ve been considering his ideas ever since a friend shared this video with me, and I think he might be on to something.  The video is about thirty minutes long, but it’s worth watching. (You can see a larger version of the video on the TED site here.)

(This link was updated from the TED site to the YouTube one on April 11, 2012 due to embedding issues from TED’s site. The link is the same, but some links did not work properly when I migrated my blog from nsavides.wordpress.com to the current location.)

 

As a writer, I keep my eyes open for new ways to understand others (and myself). That’s not just about getting better at my craft, although that’s a nice bonus, but there is something intrinsically compelling and beautiful about getting closer and closer to the truth of a person.

After reflecting on Stuart Brown’s ideas, I’m now convinced that you can get a  decent sense of a person just by considering his or her play history. At first that might seem silly, but let’s consider the idea a bit.  Aren’t you a little more wary of someone with whom you’ve never shared a laugh?  And if playtime was insignificant, why does our society value sports so highly?

Professional athletes, highly skilled individuals who train extensively to play games in public, are some of the highest compensated members of our society. Successful movies, music and shows often feature visual gags,  amusing variations on a theme, and witty dialogue  (they don’t call them plays for nothing, folks).  Let’s not forget about video games: According to the NPD Group, the United States video game industry generated more than $20 billion worth of revenue  in 2008.

The Lute Player - Frans Hals

The Lute Player - Frans Hals

Playfulness isn’t just a financially valuable attribute to some folks.  Frank Capra, the director of films like It’s a Wonderful Life, and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, uses playfulness or its absence to reveal character.  In Capra’s World War II documentary Why We Fight, the narrator asks us to, “take a good look at these humorless men.”  This happens just as the camera reveals grim footage of men like Rudolf Hess, Hermann Goering, Joseph Goebbels, and Adolf Hitler.

The implication is that because these men appear humorless, they are not to be trusted.  In comparison, consider what Capra says about comedy in his autobiography, The Name Above the Title: “Comedy is fulfillment, accomplishment, overcoming.  It is victory over odds, a triumph of good over evil.”  Did you get that? As far as Capra is concerned, comedy is what happens when goodness prevails, and without playfulness there is no comedy. It mixes well with the ideas of Dr. Brown, does it not?

Would you like a more contemporary example?  No problem.  In the world or Harry Potter, we are allowed to enjoy the playful side of magic only when we’re around the good kids. The bad guys are only interested in the magic that allows for cruelty and domination.  Are you starting to see a pattern?

Perhaps this is a redundant point, but the moments that feel most corporate at work and in my personal life are decidedly unplayful ones. Work is going to be hard and frustrating sometimes, I know.  Otherwise employers wouldn’t be so quick to entrust us with their hard-earned cash.  That’s not what I’m getting at.  I’m more interested in the cruel or banal moments in our lives that make it harder for us to keep alive our own inner sense of playfulness.

Being playful doesn’t have to be the polar opposite of doing business.  That’s one of the key ideas from a different TED lecture given by a man who is also named Brown, Tim Brown in this case.   He is also the CEO of the design firm IDEO as it happens.  Here’s the video link, if you’re interested.  (It’s the last video link in this post, I promise. Once again here’s the link to the video on TED.)

Tim Brown suggests that there is a connection between the playful environments of places like Google, Pixar, and IDEO and their ability to solve problems  in creative, but also highly effective ways.  It’s as if a playful environment makes it feel a little safer to bring a sense of a playfulness to the work at hand.

Research he references concludes that the most playful kids are the ones who come from the most stable and loving families. It follows, then, that companies who are smart enough to value playfulness should do whatever they can to make the workplace feel more like a supportive family.

Let’s get back to Stuart Brown, the guy from the first video.  It’s interesting, isn’t it, that Stuart Brown doesn’t just ask us to set aside some time for playing.  Instead, he advocates an ongoing state of playfulness. It’s a subtle distinction, but it’s worth addressing.

If play time becomes a mandated thing, then it could quickly turn into something ugly.  By ugly I mean something like a mandatory Nerf-powered shootout in cubicle land where the ambivalent employees have to face off against the obnoxious office go-getters.  Then playtime would get measured, and employees would get evaluated on key play metrics.  At this point, the management folks would quite possibly turn this data  into sheets of uncompelling bar-graphs, and these sheets would be distributed to unsuspecting employees in the name of promoting playfulness.  Honestly though, whose idea of fun is that? (Not mine.)

Stuart Brown is right: The real magic happens when you can bring a sense of playfulness to any situation, but only a true saint can preserve a sense of inner playfulness even in the most trying of circumstances. Whenever I’ve seen the Dali Llama speak (on TV not in person), I’ve noticed an almost jovial lightness to him no matter what he is discussing. The Apostle Paul is another great example to consider.  Even in jail he was  writing about how he had learned, through the grace of God, to be content with all things.

I know being content and being playful don’t mean the same thing, although I do believe they go hand in hand.  When was the last time you remember being simultaneously jealous and playful?  What about being both playful and malicious or conniving?

I don’t about you, but my soul has been muddied from time to time with malicious or conniving inclinations.  In those moments it wasn’t so hard to be persuasive or assertive. I could even muster up a kind of contrived imitation of playfulness, but I couldn’t be truly playful until I put aside, at least temporarily, those ignoble preoccupations.  That’s why I buy into Stuart Brown’s claim that playfulness is an essential part of building trust.

 

Senecio - Paul Klee

Senecio - Paul Klee

Now comes the warning: not everything done in the name of playfulness is good.  Sometimes things are going to hurt. I think part of becoming an adult involves learning to face the pain in our lives without always looking for a way to anesthetize it, to make it seem more fun.  It is the unfiltered sting of truth that lets us better see the broken parts of our lives, but many of us, myself included, find it easier to pour some sugar on our problems as we keep on dancing to the same old dissonant song.

Do you have friends who are always joking around even in serious moments?  Those kinds of  people might seem amusing enough right now, but what if ten years go by and they still aren’t working to improve the world around them?  What about the hardcore gamer who stops providing for his family just so that he can play more games or the sports fan who does nothing but watch games on TV?  What about the partygoers  who bankrupt their futures just to buy a few more temporary thrills? These are all examples of how an inclination toward playfulness can turn tragic.

Stuart Brown tells his patients to explore the most joyous moments of their lives and to adjust their lives accordingly.  That’s great advice.  Let me also suggest that it might be helpful to consider the moments in your life when being playful seems most difficult or when your inclination to play seems most excessive. Do what you can to figure out what it was that robbed you of your ability to enjoy the moment in those situations, and then try to face similar situations in a better way.

I’m going to explain that in a kind of indirect way but also in a personal way, so bear with me. It’s not easy for me to use myself as an example: writing honestly and in a personal manner doesn’t always make me look good, but I wouldn’t respect myself as a writer if I did any less.  In my more optimistic moments I believe that by being honest about my struggles, I can help both you and me in the process.   The wisdom or foolishness of that concept will, I’m sure, reveal itself over time.

In any case, with my life being what it is, I have to believe that the truth, and not my profit margins or my badass quotient, can eventually set me free, free to be the best version of myself, the man I someday hope to be. Maybe you think that’s a foolish thing to believe.  Maybe you’d rather get tips on expanding market share or becoming more of a badass?  If so, then by all means go and find something else to read.

Intrigue - James Ensor

Intrigue - James Ensor

But then, maybe a few of you can relate? If so, then thanks for sticking around.  I hope I can reward you for your patience and your desire to get beyond the surface of things.

With that said, here are some examples of  when it is hard for me to be playful. In  the past, I had difficulty finding a sense of playfulness about my work.  It was too important to joke about because it was the only way I knew of determining my value as a person.  It was an awful way to live.

Now I’d like to think that I don’t take my work as seriously.  I’m participating in a silly one-act play over at the Smithfield Little Theater later today, for example, but sometimes I still get caught up in the belief that my work is the only thing that matters in my life.  Kind of a corporate way to think, right? I know, but when I think that way, I don’t have to put myself in a vulnerable position when dealing with others.

Speaking of other people, I have a hard time remembering playful moments that I shared with my dad when he was still alive. My mom and my sisters played lots of games with me, but not my dad.  Like many other dads, he was too busy with work and with other pursuits to have much time to play with me.

He was helping his patients fight off cancer, and that is admirable enough, and yet the absence of a dependable and playful father figure in my childhood made it harder for me to bond with other guys, whether in sports or in class.  It is still hard for me to form lasting, sincere and playful friendships with others.  Don’t get me wrong: ultimately, I hold myself responsible for the quality of my relationships, but my dad’s interactions with me didn’t make this kind of thing easier.

Earlier I mentioned an admiration for the Apostle Paul’s ability to be content regardless of his situation.  I am, on certain days, the exact opposite of the Apostle Paul: I sometimes have difficulty finding a sense of harmony, of playfulness, even in the most comfortable of settings, and in those moments my world becomes unbearable.

Self Portrait with Masks - James Ensor

Self Portrait with Masks - James Ensor

Anything that can make the moment feel more enjoyable becomes very appealing, whether or not it is good for my long-term goals or even my soul.  In those God-forsaken, loveless moments, the only thing that matters to me is finding some way back to that illusive state of bliss, no matter what it takes.  I try to avoid taking the easy way out when tempted by such toxic siren songs, but I don’t always succeed.

Yes, sometimes I’m the guy who is pursuing playfulness in the wrong way, the one who laughs too much, the one who has a few too many drinks.  I’ve been the guy at the party who has made others shake their heads with disapproval and ponder the uncivilized creatures that this world can produce.  It does wound me so to get that reaction, and yet that’s probably the look I would give to myself if I was a third-party observer.

I try very hard not to be that guy, but sometimes it is easier to laugh and joke and make an ass of myself than to face the truth of the moment.  The only remedy I know for that kind of thing is to acknowledge the pain, to give the moment back to God, and to open my heart to the love that’s out there. It’s not an easy remedy, and I’m not good at adhering to it, but it’s the only thing that seems to work even in a subtle way.

In the book City of God, Saint Augustine writes about the importance of enjoying the presence of God.  He writes that no one is foolish enough to suggest that a man who drinks from a fountain is doing something good for the fountain.  Nor does a lamp benefit when a traveller uses it to navigate.  Why then, asks Augustine, do people assume that God is meant to be loved and enjoyed for the sake of God and not for the good of the souls who love and enjoy Him?

I believe the only way anyone can maintain the ongoing sense of playfulness that Stuart Brown advocates is to enjoy the presence of God moment by moment. It’s OK if your conception of God is different than mine. You might not even believe in God, and you might be better off in this life than I am.  Obviously, I don’t have it all figured out, so there’s no reason why you should take my advice if it doesn’t somehow ring true.

Even so, I still think you might benefit by trying to reconcile yourself moment by moment with something bigger than you, a higher power if you will, in case you find that phrase less objectionable than the word, “God.”   If you and I diligently seek out the truth,uncomfortable though it may be, and listen carefully to the still small voice that speaks with love inside our hearts, then I believe (when I am not distracted by anger or despair) that someday we’ll wake up and discover that our worlds are once again filled with playful possibility. Why take my word for it, though?  My soul is, after all, still a murky blend of light and darkness.  Seek for yourself.

Several Circles - Wassily Kandinsky

Several Circles - Wassily Kandinsky

(This is one of my favorite abstract paintings. It made an impression from the moment I saw it.  Serene and playful, the circles gracefully overpower the darkness around them.)

Let me end with another reference to Frank Capra.  Towards the end of his life, Capra was involved in a video tribute for the late director George Stevens, the man responsible for Shane and other cinema classics. I was captivated by Capra’s playful demeanor even in old age.  Up to that point, I had assumed that older people were by definition more severe than younger folks.  Frank Capra, though, had more vitality and twinkle than a lot of kids I know.

He was talking about looking up George Stevens when he got to heaven so that they could work on something special together.  That kind of cheerful disregard towards death is what it can look like when the good kind of playfulness prevails.  And so, I’m going to pray for more of that kind of playfulness for me and for you.  Here’s to a more playful, less corporate world!

It takes me a little longer to write the kinds of posts I prefer to write, and sometimes my schedule gets complicated, so I can’t promise to have new posts available on a consistent schedule . That’s why I encourage you to sign up by email. You can do that by clicking here.

If you’re following along by  email, you’ll know right away when I have a new post waiting for you.  It is very easy to unsubscribe, and you won’t receive anything unrelated to my blog.

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Walt Disney, the Illusion of Life, & Being Less Corporate

Walt Disney films are largely responsible for my interest in making movies. I’m not afraid to admit that.  I couldn’t say that in college.  I was too preoccupied with what  my classmates and professors thought of me.  Back then I was more likely to talk about Citizen Kane and Stanley Kubrick films.  Those are masterfully crafted movies, sure, but they had practically zero influence on my aspirations. Not so with Walt Disney’s creations, but in my effort to matter to the world I had forgotten that.

It’s taken me a while, but I have slowly returned to the things that I loved for their own sake and not based on what other people said.  Reading The Illusion of Life, a marvellous book about the story of Disney animation lovingly told by two early Disney animators, Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, helped me to restore my unashamed enthusiasm for many of the Disney animated films I grew up with as a kid.

book_the_illusion_of_life

The first film I remember seeing in the theater was Snow White.  Pinocchio was the first film that compelled me to stay up late and ponder its mysteries, in this case I was trying to figure out what it would feel like to get transformed into a jackass.  (A few years later, I would understand the jackass thing all too well, unfortunately. I’m working on getting things right these days, but it’s a process.)

During the holidays, going to a Walt Disney film became a tradition for my family.  It was a time when we’d stop fighting with each other and informally agree to be temporarily harmonious.  It was a nice time.  But moving on, my  interest in computer animation too was colored by my exposure to the Pixar films that Disney distributed.

Not everyone in my world had a similar admiration of Walt Disney. My college professors carefully avoided any reference to Disney’s influence on cinema history, although the man pioneered new techniques for working with sound and color and had won twenty-six Oscars before he died.  (For all you film kids doing the math at home, that’s a few more than the nine Oscars that Stanley Kubrick’s films won.)  It is also worth pointing out that while Hollywood was still years away from conceiving of the effects film, Walt Disney gave the world Snow White, the first movie in which every single frame featured a created effect.

One of the books I had to read in college was Simulacra and Simulation by Jean Baudrillard.  He wrote several long and loveless paragraphs about how Disneyland was the ultimate example of our false and simulated existence.

Baudrillard’s book was a joyless thing, perfumed with important-sounding philosophical concepts. I don’t remember much from the book beyond an impression that Baudrillard wanted to convince me that he was smart and very well read, and that his work  anticipated the Matrix films (films that I enjoy much more than Baudrillard’s book).

For comparison, let’s look at how  The Illusion of Life discusses Disney’s accomplishments. In the book, Walt is quoted as saying “I am interested in entertaining people, in bringing pleasure, particularly laughter, to others, rather than being concerned with expressing myself with obscure creative impressions.” Did you notice the emphasis on serving others in that quote?

That’s a lesson that the book’s writers, Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, absorbed well.  Consider their advice to aspiring entertainers: “The ancient counsel ‘Know thyself’ is full of wisdom, but, for the entertainer, it is possibly just as wise to suggest, ‘Know your audience.’

snow white

photo from flickr.com/expressmonorail

What a contrast with Baudrillard’s style that is.   Disney’s work has brought a sense of joy and wonder to millions of people around the world.  Jean Baudrillard has filled the minds of philosophy students with intellectual contempt and a sense of superiority over the uninformed.

I know that the Walt Disney Company is a very powerful multi-national corporation, and I don’t celebrate everything that the company does, but I’m talking about the man who started it all, the man who lived up to his well-known quote: “We don’t make movies to make money, we make money to make more movies.”  I tend to root for the philosophers, but in this case Baudrillard comes off as the more banal and  corporate one.

To delight in a thing for the sake of the thing itself and not for the potential profit it brings is an essential aspect of being less corporate. If you can’t tell that the writers of The Illusion of Life created the book out of a deep, delighted love  for animation and for Walt Disney, then you probably can’t recognize love when you see it.  There’s the cover that transitions gracefully from black and white to color, the textured yellow paper that greets you when you open the book, the full-page color stills that appear in the first few pages, and the playful, yet thorough, prose.

All of these things are clues that this is a book that cares very much about getting the details right.  The book has 489 colored prints, thousands of black-and-white drawings, and it was printed in Italy; that’s definitely not the way to produce a book if you care only about maximizing your profits and keeping costs low.

On top of that, there are several flip-book sequences on the top-right corners of the pages that beg for your attention.  I would have still bought the book without that feature, a feature that must have taken a bit of time to sync up, but how magnificent to discover one more extra that Frank and Ollie threw in for us.

teacups

photo from flickr.com/expressmonorail

The animator-writers of the book speak fondly of Walt most of the time, and they dedicated the book to him, so obviously they liked the guy.  But, they don’t give him the idealized  hero treatment that I’ve seen the Walt Disney Company do on occasion.  Instead, the writers give us examples of when Walt was abrasive, difficult to please, and even wounding.

Look at how they critique a bonus system that Walt tried at one point: “The bonus system did not produce better pictures or even good ones.  Few regulations do.  Efficiency is better built through dedication rather than speed for its sake.”  How refreshing that they were not afraid to discuss the strengths and the weaknesses of their boss and the man they admired.

Since Frank and Ollie are honest about Disney’s flaws, we are more likely to believe them when they sing Disney’s praises, and sing they do.  They talk about Walt’s incessant curiosity and his high standards.

Walt Disney didn’t fall into the corporate trap of  resisting change merely to do things like they’ve always been done, and his drive to innovate wasn’t limited to technology.  For example, he didn’t hesitate to hire women for his ink and paint department, even though it was accepted knowledge  at the time that only men could do the job effectively.

Nor was Disney afraid of failure. Apparently, he wanted to be a live-action director when he first came to California, but that didn’t work out so well.  Instead of giving up, Disney returned to animation and worked hard to produce Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoons.

But, thanks to strong-arm negotiation tactics by Charles Mintz, a producer working for Universal, Disney was soon locked out of the very cartoon he helped to create.  On top of that, most of his workforce was signed away from him.  Disney had every reason to get bitter, but instead he stayed focused and created a character known as Mickey Mouse.

2430476513_8485095a3d

photo from flickr.com/expressmonorail

Frank and Ollie also talk about the spirit of cooperation that Disney encouraged. Everyone was expected to share knowledge and to help those who were struggling on a concept.  They quote Disney as saying, “Everyone has to contribute or they become laborers,” and they give a few examples of Walt’s determination to find the right job that best suited the strengths of his people.  The assumptions that everyone matters and that everyone has distinct skills are seemingly obvious, but they are still ignored in more corporate environments.

Since Disney animators helped to define the craft of animation, Frank and Ollie could have thrown around corporate phrases like “proprietary information” and “intellectual property” when discussing their animation processes.  Instead, out of a desire to see their beloved field of animation advance, they broke down their technique into twelve distinct principles that are thoroughly illustrated with one example after another.  Those twelve principles are now the cornerstones of all the animation training programs that I’ve seen.

By giving information away and trying to be helpful, Frank and Ollie earned for Disney the loyalty of thousands of animation students who succeeded by studying their work.  Too bad more companies aren’t as generous with their resources these days, since their businesses could benefit greatly if they did. It’s the curse of the all too-powerful legal departments and of the frivolous lawsuits that make such departments necessary, I suspect.

While discussing the craft of animation Frank and Ollie write, “The animator should be as surprised as anyone at the way it comes out.”  Exactly right, but that should be true for any work that isn’t corporate in nature.

You can do all the planning in the world, but you’ll never know all the conditions and the particulars that might come up until you dive into the thing.  When you react to changes in the moment, your work has vitality.  Otherwise it is a representation of a preconceived idea that grown distant from reality.

Think of the last corporate event you attended.  Were you surprised at all when the wacky speaker made lame, self-aggrandizing jokes and then talked about how the numbers  for that quarter were great news for the company, regardless of what the numbers actually looked like? That kind of speech is bad because it stays the same regardless of what happens in the world or with the audience.

Anything with vitality, whether a service, product, or person, has to be surprising at least in some sense, by definition. Otherwise, let us call the thing in question dead or corporate.

3042741167_afe6a2cfe3

photo from flickr.com/expressmonorail

I will end with two more  quotes from the book.  ”Our true personalities are best revealed by our reactions to change we did not expect.”  Not bad insight from men who make cartoons, don’t you think?

Toward the end of the book, Frank and Ollie throw in a quote from William Faulkner.  Faulker explains that it is a writer’s “privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past.” At that point, Frank and Ollie add that “even the cartoon can try for such ideals.”

If animators aim for such lofty ideals, maybe it’s not asking too much for you to reconsider the merit of animation in general and Walt Disney in particular.  Or, you could go back to reading Pretentious Quarterly and producing and endorsing things that bring more despair and decadence into the world, but don’t expect me to applaud you for that.  I’ll be too busy celebrating the things that make me smile and keep me hopeful.

Six TED-Talk-powered Tips for Making the World Less Corporate

Photo by ramon_perez_terrassa on Flickr

Photo from ramon_perez_terrassa on Flickr

 

“Too many rules prevent accomplished jazz musicians from improvising, and as a result they lose their gifts, or worse, they stop playing altogether.”  That’s a quote from Barry Schwartz’s fantastic speech on our society’s loss of wisdom.   (It was a speech given at this year’s TED conference, and I highly recommend watching it.)

It’s sad isn’t it, when our jazz musicians, athletes, unique thinkers, visionary entrepreneurs, volunteers, and all the others who strive to bring more meaning into the world  experience something that causes them to forever stop doing what they do.   Too often the villain responsible is a corporate one, a thing that could have been avoided with a thinking mind and a working heart.

The death blow doesn’t always come from the heavy artillery.  Sometimes all it takes is a phone call.  Please allow me a personal story: it’s why I had to write this post.  With just one five-minute phone call, a producer that I’ve been in contact with for over seven months almost shattered my inclination to ever create again.   He did this not by denying the merit of my project, something that I’ve been working on for the past few years of my life, but by telling me that after 7 months he hadn’t gotten to read it yet because his time was very valuable.  

 

Old Poorhouse Woman with a Glass Bottle - Paula Modersohn-Becker

Old Poorhouse Woman with a Glass Bottle - Paula Modersohn-Becker

 

I sent him 11 pages to consider, and yes folks, that’s 11 pages and not 110.  Before I did that I saw his shows and read his book to better understand him and to determine whether my project could possibly be relevant to him.  I thought it could be, but I assured him that I would not call or email him again if he gave me a definitive no.   A “no” he would not give me, but a declaration about the value of his time, he freely shared.

I shut down as a person for almost a week because of that.  I got little done, and I wasn’t the easiest to be around.   Because of him, I thought seriously about just settling for a life of doing corporate work and spending money to buy more comforts and pleasures.  Thank God, I no longer feel that way.

I’m not writing this to lash out at him in public.  That’s not my style.  I prefer to settle my disputes with someone person to person, and as God is my witness, he will know what I think of his actions, and I will get a definitive yes or no from him, or I will die trying.

My point is that sometimes even seemingly small, thoughtless moments can perpetuate a more corporate world.  The producer in question is not altogether bad man.  He is in many ways, I’m sure, more decent than I am, but he almost convinced me to give up entirely on pursuing any kind of creative expression, the very stuff that gives my life the strongest sense of purpose, harmony, and hope.  Put differently it’s part of the least corporate elements in my life.  

I recognize the very real possibility that I have done or  could do to someone else what he almost did to me.  This list, inspired by Barry Schwartz’ lecture, is my way of fighting that possibility:

 

1. Take strong positions.

If you’re not interested in a project, why tie up someone’s time by being ambiguous?  By saying an honest no, you make it easier for someone to turn his attention to more rewarding possibilities.  Certainly, it can be uncomfortable to say no and face the disappointment or frustration of another person, and besides, staying undecided for as long as possible is convenient.  Unfortunately, with your ambiguities and your delays on a decision, you add your own home-made resistance to someone else”s dreams, and dreams are hard enough to bring to life without your half-hearted opposition.  

Barry Schwartz isn’t vague about what he accepts and what he doesn’t.  That’s one reason why he’s compelling.  Corporate speakers, though, are too concerned about saying the wrong things, so they hedge.  To prevent you from realizing this, they distract with mesmerizingly awful PowerPoint  animations.  No one enjoys hearing those people speak, but everyone claps out of habit.  

Speaking of PowerPoint presentations, you’ll notice that the slides Mr. Schwartz uses have an elegant,  minimalistic design.  The ideas are strong enough on their own so that cutesy, animated gifs aren’t needed to hold the audience’s interest.   (To read more about the thinking behind the slides for the presentation, check out this helpful lessons-from-TED post from slide:ology.)  If your presentation isn’t compelling enough, maybe you should spend more time tweaking your ideas and not your clip art.  

 

2. Avoid meaningless clutter.

I am amazed by how many companies choose to use hold recordings that go something like this, “Thanks for calling.  Your call is very important to us.  It will be answered in the order in which it was received.”  This is something any company can say.  Is your company just like any other company or does it have something special to share with the world?  Your advertising says that you are special, so why let your phone messages or your internal training videos, or your memos argue otherwise?

As if the above phone message isn’t bland enough, too many companies opt to have the message repeat every 45 seconds or so.  Right when I am getting comfortable enough to start daydreaming about new possibilities, I get interrupted with generic words from a generic voice.  That’s sort of like throwing balls of Styrofoam at patrons right when they’re bringing a spoon of hot, savory soup to their mouth.  That kind of thing robs me of my appreciation for the moment, a moment that could have begotten good and useful things.  

Why waste words to apologize for the inconvenience when it really isn’t an inconvenience?   Asking me to use a different grocery-store isle because the one in front of me is closed is not an inconvenience.  It is a reasonable situation that common sense illuminates.  Using plastic phrases on me rarely makes me feel better, and clunky legalistic prose doesn’t encourage me to spend more money.  When I discover it in stuff I’ve already purchased, I  have fewer reasons to smile about the product in question.  

As Mr. Schwartz suggests, there’s no reason for teachers to read the lesson from a script.  That insults the competent teachers and bores the kids.  If the teachers aren’t able to come up with their own coherent lesson plans that address relevant topics, then they should be doing different work.  Making things easy for incompetent people to be mediocre has the unfortunate consequence of making the world more corporate at an exponential rate.  

 

3.  Incubate possibilities.

Both babies and new ventures cannot survive on their own without support from others.  The call that you don’t return could be the one that seduces someone to give up on something that would have changed the world.    One of my goals is to return a call or email that asks for a response within 2 days.  I’m pretty good at doing that most of the time.  If I can do it, why can’t you?    Why risk the chance of demoralizing someone when returning a personable call usually takes just five minutes or less?

Barry Schartz warns us that if people have to swim against the current for too long, they’ll give up.  Some ideas don’t have enough merit to justify their survival, but others do.  It’s tragic when the good ones get strangled by the organizational resistance that attack with bureaucracy and mindless adherence to policy.  

 

4. Avoid unnecessary rules.  

To quote Mr. Schwartz again, ”Moral skill is chipped away by an over-reliance on rules that deprives us of the opportunity to improvise and learn from our improvisations, and moral will is undermined by an incessant appeal to incentives that destroy our desire to do the right thing.”  The more rules you make the more you encourage the rise of corparate drones who merely follow policy and don’t think or interact with the particulars at hand.  Those kinds of workers can be crafted into docile automatons, but they won’t be very good at generating innovation and adapting to change.

 

5. Don’t be cynical.

Everyone has their shortcomings, but we sell people short when we search for base motives behind every deed.  Treating others with weary suspicion even when they do good makes it harder for that person to continue doing good.  I’m as guilty of this as anyone, maybe even guiltier than most; I face an on-going battle against encroaching cynicism, and I don’t always win.  

When you’ve been hurt, it is a challenge not to project those past experiences of cruelty and selfishness onto other people in the present.  But, if you keep treating an organization or a  contact with enough cynicism, eventually they’ll ignore you or live up to your expectations.  Neither party benefits from that, so that’s reason enough to keep a vigilant guard against corrosive cynicism.  

Follow Mr. Schwartz’s advice: “celebrate moral exemplars.”  Dare to praise others not just for their technical capacities but for the nobility of their actions.  You may risk looking unsophisticated, naive, and unhip, but do it anyway.  Virtue matters enough to justify the risk.

 

6.  Be honest. 

Well-intentioned buisness people are, on ocassion, hesitant to speak the truth out of fear for the market’s reaction or their jobs.  On a personal level, people are hesitant to tell the truth out a fear of rejection or of the consequences that come with the truth.  These are not petty matters to be easily dismissed.  

Sometimes being honest will cost you in the short term, but it comes with long-term freedom, freedom to be yourself and to make decisions based on what can help you or your organization grow.  In the end, honesty always prevails, but you won’t believe that unless you accept a metaphysical reality greater than the perceivable material, and often very corporate, world around you.  

If your worldview does not allow for a God or a universe that ultimately rewards character over profitability, then there is a very real danger that you will end up as another corporate denizen who will do anything to stay on top,  perhaps you’ll even apologize for the inconvenience as you uppercut me with your meaningless clutter.  Anything to stay ahead, right?

Photo from flickr.com/rickz

Photo from flickr.com/rickz

Here’s me being honest: I had decided against writing this post, until I came across Barry Schwartz’s speach.  The beauty of his ideas helped snap me out of my own private hell, long enough to write this.   Whether this post will be helpful to anyone, I don’t know, but writing it was helpful to me.  Before watching Mr. Schwartz’s speach, my plan for the weekend was to spend much of it drinking one beer after another at a local bar.  By being less corporate, Mr. Schwartz helped me to do the same.  

You can do likewise, if you’re so inclined.  Somewhere in the world a jazz musician will thank you.

 

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Business and Design Lessons From Malcolm Gladwell

If you wish to carve out a corporate existence for yourself, you will probably avoid showing others a new way of seeing something. Doing that is risky, unproven in profitability, and more conflict-prone than the old tried-and-true methods approved by the  powerful and the influential. Corporate fellows avoid the above-mentioned adjectives in the same way that unrepentant alcoholics avoid AA.  (This applies even to the indie-rock scene kids who slavishly follow the fashion dictates of their hipster overlords in the name of assimilated nonconformity.) Malcolm Gladwell is not one of those fellows.

Les Saltimbanques at the Races - Picasso

Les Saltimbanques at the Races - Picasso

In his book Outliers, he challenges the idea that someone’s success is determined almost exclusively by his or her own efforts.  Mr. Gladwell still argues that individual effort matters: he insists that successful people need about 10,000 hours of practice to become masters  of their craft. Still, the book spends more time discussing the role society plays in encouraging and nurturing the success of outliers, the superstars in their fields who are exponentially mre skilled than their colleagues.  That kind of non-conventional thinking makes the book worth reading, but I want to focus on a specific quote from the book that hasn’t been as widely discussed.

Here’s the quote: “Autonomy, complexity,  and a connection between effort and reward are the three qualities that work has to have if it is to be satisfying.” If there is a better way to describe an uncorporate job, then I haven’t heard it.  As it happens, it’s also a helpful framework for discussing great design.

Few things deaden my enthusiasm for a job more than an employer who tells me exactly how to do my work.  Yes, every business and design assignment has its standards and protocols.  Nothing wrong with that, but why insist on making me or my coworkers read from a script or do things exactly like you do?  Machines need to be micromanaged, competent people don’t.  Instead, why not tell us what results you want, give us some flexibility in pursuing those results, and reward those of us who best achieve those results?

One of my worst experiences on a design job involved a client who wanted to tell me exactly what elements I should use for a poster and where they should go.  I don’t mind that kind of thing if a client has design instincts that are as good, if not better, than my own, but that was not the case with him. He relished the clip-art aesthetic.  I’ve had enough of those experiences that I now reserve the right to refuse to do work that I find ineffective in conception.  The customer is not always right, and life is too short to do ugly design.

Designers, artists, and employees in general have their own unique perspectives and abilities that they desperately want to share with you. Why not seek to discover and use those abilities to your advantage, so that you can accomplish whatever specific tasks need to be done?  You’ll get more interesting and more valuable results while keeping your employees more engaged.  I understand there this a place for procedure.  Deviating from it can involve some experimentation, and not all experiments succeed.  Still, the potential for discovering a friendlier, more appealing, more efficient, more profitable way of doing things, seems to be worth the risk, don’t you think?   Not convinced? Well, which would you rather have in your house: a Picasso painting or a generic photograph with a caption about corporate excellence?

Maxalot - Joshua Davis

Maxalot - Joshua Davis

Take a look at the above design by Joshua Davis.  This kind of visual complexity is something in which he specializes.  Maybe you’ve seen some of the ads he’s done for companies like Motorola? (If you like his style, you can see more of his work at joshuadavis.com.) In any case, is there not something compelling about this kind of complexity?  We are inclined to look for patterns in the complex, to discover a sense of order and harmony that transcends the chaos in our world and gives it meaning.  Too much complexity is an overwhelming, frustrating experience, but without enough of the stuff, we lose interest and don’t stay fully engaged.  No wonder Mr. Gladwell sees it as an essential ingredient in fulfilling work.

You could also say the same thing about a good design, which is after all, a pleasing arrangement of complex elements that serve functional or aesthetic purposes. Too simple a design conveys half-hearted apathy.  On the other hand, if you add too much complexity, then you produce something that interferes with its own functionality.  To pull off this balancing act with elegance and style is the real trick of the thing.

And now we get to the connection between effort and reward.  Notice that Malcolm Gladwell did not say the connection between effort and the amount of money earned.  It’s a pernicious corporate assumption that everyone does things simply for more money. Some people just want to see that their efforts earn them respect or affection from others.  Whatever the payoff may be, people want to see it come eventually, or they’ll stop working as hard or stop working altogether.  From a designer perspective, that means users may give up on a product, protest a policy, or ignore a poster that demands too much effort or attention without giving back enough rewarding functionality.

The volunteer who helps out at her church probably doesn’t want money for her efforts.  And yet, if she continues to give her time to serve others but gets no appreciation or sense of making a difference in return, she will probably stop helping at some point.

The local actors I know don’t care so much about getting paid big bucks or becoming famous (at least not all of them), but they do care very much about giving performances that are well regarded in meaningful productions.  They also care about connecting with other actors and earning their respect.  Taking away those things and you could jeopardize their future dramatic endeavors.  I’ve done a little bit of acting myself (I’m not a great actor, but I enjoy learning and going through the process), so I know how hard it is to face rejection after rejection without hearing, on occasion, about how someone was affected by your performance, big or small.

Conversely, if you want the world to be a less corporate place, be sure to pay people for the efforts that bring you satisfaction. One of the owners of the Boot, an Italian restaurant in Norfolk, Virginia known for a vast beer selection, hearty meals, and great music, told me about his visits to a nearby, upscale comic-book shop called Local Heroes.  He aims to buy something from the store every few weeks, because he believes the area deserves a place like that.  I feel the same way about the Boot.   I want to reward them for their efforts, so that they will continue to find satisfaction from staying in business.

Support the things you cherish with money if you can, but an honest, heartfelt thank-you is cheaper and sometimes more appreciated. Comments on this blog have helped me see that others value my efforts, and so I  continue writing, instead of merely looking for more ways to make money.  On some difficult days a few kind, thoughtful, or grateful words have made all the difference to me.  Knowing this, I look for every opportunity to offer a sincere and unique expression of gratitude to others whose efforts I appreciate.

Find ways to include autonomy, complexity, and a connection between effort and reward in the work you do, the work you ask others to do, and in the things you create, and you’ll be doing your part to make the world a less corporate place.  (By the way, thanks for reading this.  I really appreciate it.)

The Designer vs. the Artist: Who’s our Uncorporate Champion?

Good designers and artists make the world less corporate in their own unique ways. Their creations inspire, provoke, and engage us, and for that I am grateful.  I aim to do the same with my work, and I like learning from people who are better at achieving my own goals than I am.

Still, the potential for making things more corporate exists for both artists and designers.  I talk a bit about how to avoid being a corporate artist here.    In this post, I’ll look at some distinctions between a designer’s mentality and an artist’s, and how they can contribute to or fight against corporate thinking.

Essentially a designer is someone who creates things with a strong consideration for the end-user’s experience. A good web designer thinks about how easy a site is to navigate and how pleasing it is to read.  A graphic designer aims to capture his audience’s attention with just the right visual elements for the represented message.   Someone who designs products pays attention to how  functional, elegant, and costly the product will be to customers.

gmail

Gmail is my email provider of choice because of how intuitive it is to use and how elegant it is in its simplicity, but I can assure you that it was neither intuitive nor simple for the Google engineers to design.  They didn’t make an application that was easy for them to build or that gave them the best chance for self-expression. Rather they put emphasis on creating something that was easy for me to use and to customize based on my own aesthetic preferences.

Amazon.com didn’t think about what kind of return and shipping policies would be most convenient for their business managers.  They thought about what would be most convenient for their customers, and so they designed policies that allow for a 30-day exchange period, free shipping for purchases over $25, and friendly customer support.  (The one time that I had to call Amazon support was for a shipping mistake.  The mistake was my fault, but Amazon still offered to replace the item if I couldn’t get it recovered.  They corrected the shipping address so quickly that it was a non-issue.)    That’s why they get a lot of repeat business from me.

Various designers have their own styles and sensibilities, but the good ones are all still user-oriented.  Can you imagine one of Google’s or Apple’s designers getting rewarded for designing an interface that not only baffled you, but left you demoralized and unproductive for days at a time? Would it make a difference if these hypothetical designers wrote long and boring essays about what they were thinking when they created the hellacious, unusable interfaces?  Of course not, and yet there are artists out there who would consider it a professional triumph if their work had the effect on you that I described above.

Why?  Being an artist involves more emphasis on personal expression than being a designer, and the effectiveness of self-expression is sometimes evaluated based on whether it affects audiences in any observable way. Nothing wrong with that.  Artists can use their imaginations to paint pictures or tell stories that grow from their own experiences in this world.  Done honestly and with skill, that can help us better understand and appreciate our own lives.

Problems develop when artists buy into the absurdly stupid, corporate idea that they can and should express themselves in any way they wish and completely ignore how that expression will affect other people. Nero considered himself a consummate artist, using his power to gain forced acclaim for his music and staging maniacal torture  and killing procedures.  He was rumored to play his lyre and sing wildly as Rome burned, entranced perhaps by his own exquisite artistry.  ( Peter Ustinov played Nero in the 1951 film Quo Vadis, and it’s one of the best depictions of a mad, self-absorbed, and heartless artist that I’ve seen on film.)  Do you wish to be like Nero, dear artists? If not, then be so good as to think about the sentiments of others as you promote yourselves and produce your work and carry on as artists do.

A former artist friend once told me that I didn’t understand her as an artist when I asked her to be more straightforward with me.  Distorting the truth is not artistry, sweetie.  It is called being dishonest.  Sleeping around with everyone in town is not “artistic freedom.”  A more appropriate phrase for that kind of thing is “being a whore.”   (I am just as guilty of this kind of thing when I drink more than I should, influenced by the mistaken, corporate idea that artists need alcohol to produce compelling work.)  It’s a tricky thing to find the right balance between self-expression and self-restraint, but it’s worth trying.

photo from flickr.com/onkel_wart

photo from flickr.com/onkel_wart

Artists, and non-artists alike, including me, have their own vices that they struggle against, but most people don’t use their job status to justify their vices.  Artists shouldn’t get a golden get-out-of-jail-free card just because they’re artists.  They affect others in good or evil ways just like the rest of us. To believe otherwise is to perpetuate narcissistic, corporate thinking.

So far I’ve come down harder on artists, but designers too can err on the side of corporateness.  Just like the chaff  that surrounds the wheat, there are ugly and hard-to-use things out there, trying to drown out the well-designed stuff.   Sometimes it’s because a designer tried to imitate stylish fads instead of discovering what works for the task at hand.  Or maybe it is a matter of designing with an emphasis on low cost over quality.  Or perhaps someone just lacked the drive to put in the work needed to get polished results.

Those are all definitely corporate conditions, but most designers would not consider the above examples to be definitive characteristics of good design.  We sometimes hold up our artists to different standards, though.  Our museum curators, after all, put up literal pieces of shit on display and celebrate the artistic accomplishment, the glorious self-expression involved.

Still, good artists offer unique points-of-view that come from the deepest parts of their souls. They can illuminate problems, encourage us to dream and marvel at the world we inhabit,  help us to understand and appreciate each other, and illuminate the hidden inner, demons inside of us.  Designers sometimes approach that territory, but they don’t dig as deep.

A movie made by a bunch of designers runs the risk of becoming shallow eye-candy driven by what designers think people want to see and not on drama that resonates with greater truth.  Not wanting to displease his intended users, a designer too may be less inclined to introduce ugliness or dissonance to make a greater point, and yet it is hard to get a complete sense of our lives without taking into account the ugly and the dissonant.

Obviously deliberate ugliness is very different from ugliness due to half-hearted or incompetent design work.  It is also worth pointing out that an artist is more prone to overuse dissonance or ugliness by overemphasizing the value of any kind of self-expression, no matter how depressing or misanthropic it may be.   Still, the complete absence of dissonance or at least a healthy acknowledgment of reality’s constraints is an obvious characteristic of all things corporate.   Now you know why those corporate training videos full of false smiles and exaggerated enthusiasm are so awful and hard to watch.

What the world needs is more designer artists, creators who care about the recipients of their work and the effect it has on them, but who also create by refining their own abilities for self-expression  instead of relying only on trends and templates.  I will try to be that kind of creator.  Will you?

If you’re up for the challenge, then we can make the world a less corporate place together.

Why Target Doesn’t Feel Corporate

I cringe when I enter some places.  Certain homes, businesses, and community establishments have this hard-to-describe, but easy-to-perceive corporate quality to them that makes me want to leave as quickly as possible. Target isn’t one of those places.

I go to Target sometimes even when I am not planning to buy anything. Unlike other stores, no one tries to pressure me into buying something as soon as I walk into the door.  As long as I don’t linger after closing time, I can stay as long as I want without getting the stink eye from one.  When I do have to make big purchases, I think of Target.

So why exactly do I go to Target when I’m not making a purchase?  Well, the delightful variations of good design on display inspire me. Seriously.  I love how Target makes design a priority without being snobbish about it.  They hire top notch designers like Sami Hayek to create fun and fashionable stuff, but the prices make practical-minded people smile.  (I would say practical-minded people like myself, but then I am only practical-minded about fifty percent of the time.  Maybe less.  Still it’s a good thing to practice.)

The corporate thing to do these days in the worlds of fashion and design is to posture like a rock star and mark up the prices accordingly. Fortunately for us, Target doesn’t do the corporate thing … at least not here.

Target’s dedication to design is evident in almost every one of their commercials.  Here’s one of my favorites:

The commercial shows us a playful and deliberately designed world that includes samples of the gadgets you can buy at Target.  As we watch, we’re reminded that Target cares about accessible design. Plus the Target logo is incorporated into the beginning and the end of the commercial, which helps us remember what the commercial is about. Most of the time, it takes only one viewing for me to remember a Target commercial.  There are so many other ads that I’ve seen 7-8 times, and I still can’t remember what product is being advertised.  And I study advertisements, people, so someone out there isn’t doing his job very well.

But enough of a digression.  One reason Target’s ads work so well is because of  the company’s clearly defined reason for existence. If you go to their site about themselves (found here), you’ll note that they have an entire heading dedicated to design.  Even more impressive to me was their 64 page PDF on Corporate Responsibility.  It’s a document that’s easy to look at and one full of beautiful pictures and informative text.  Among other things, the PDF explains how Target gives back 5 percent of profit to the local communities where they operate, how they promote safety in and around their stores, and what they’re doing to protect the environment and promote sustainability.

Does that mean they’re a perfect company?  Of course not.  Like any organization, I’m sure there’s room for improvement.  But, when you spend the time and money to put together a polished, 64-page document about how your company tries to make the world better, it shows that you care about more than just making money.

What can you learn from Target? Make your reason for being more important than your pursuit of profit or measurable results, and create environments where people enjoy lingering by meeting their needs and being hesitant about the hard sell. I need to be inspired, and I’ll reward places that inspire me with my time, money, and participation.  Other people need to be informed, to have internet access, to feel comfortable, secure, or appreciated.  Serve the need and you’ll get your reward eventually, whether it’s a financial, social, or spiritual reward that you seek.

Of course, this doesn’t apply just to places selling things. When I first started working for Canon, I would leave the office as soon as I could.  But that’s changed now that I’ve developed good relationships with my coworkers and my supervisors.   When I’m off the clock, I can get other stuff done in the office, so I linger sometimes, and I avoid rush-hour traffic in the process.   That adds values to my life, and so I’m more likely to stay with Canon as an employer.

My church has an artistic, friendly sensibility so I sometimes go a few minutes early and linger for a few minutes after the service ends.  But, you can bet an entire collection of in-your-face Jesus stickers that I’d get the hell out of a corporate church as fast as possible,  and I do mean hell in the most literal of ways.

Whatever you do, don’t do everything just to gain money or popularity or measurable results.  That’s corporate thinking and that kind of thinking isn’t welcome here.

The Smile or the Sigh: Why Delighting Us Matters

Want to know if the things you do come off as corporate to others? Then ask yourself this: Do my policies, products, presentations, performances, or practices make the people who experience them smile or sigh? (The alliteration was on purpose, oh yes!)

Below, I’ve included a release that I designed for when I deliver photographs on a CD.  (As you may know,  most reputable photo developers will ask for a release before printing high-resolution images from a disc.) What’s the point of including a boring document in this magnificent blog? Well, good reader, continue onward, and soon you shall know.

I didn’t include the (resized) form to suggest that I’m the best designer ever. I’m sure there are hundreds if not thousands of designers out there who can come up with a more compelling layout. But there is something pleasing to me about this particular form. It makes me smile. From a distance, it declares its function, and it defies convention with a sense of distinction. Maybe you don’t like it though. That’s OK. Design your own forms that look better, and you’ll make us both happy.

Normally, forms make me sigh. They are slapped together without much thought and they reek of corporate, bureaucratic language. I associate them with words like boredom, obligation, and inhumanity. I like my customers too much to wish those things on them, so I took the time to design a more interesting form for them, a form that I hope will help them smile just as it does for me. This took me an extra hour or two, but I think my customers are worth it. Are your customers and acquaintances worth the extra effort?

It amazes me that companies spend millions of dollars to get their advertising just right, but then they stuff their elegant products with inarticulate, soporific manuals and anti-human legal documents. Boring manuals are the norm, but what if a company started writing manuals of elegance, clarity, and wit? Would this not be a competitive advantage in the marketplace? I don’t know about you, but I personally would rather buy from a company who astounds me with excellent manuals than from a company who throws singing squirrels at me, trying to persuade me to buy their (squirrelly?) stuff.

And why should reading a legal document be to your spirit what the dentist’s drill is to your tooth? Take a look at the GNU General Public license here for example. Not bad. The language is easy enough to understand, but there’s room for improvement even here: I know that you lawyers write stuff in ALL CAPS because you want to make it harder to read, but how would you like it if I WROTE THE REST OF MY POSTS LIKE THIS or if I walked around yelling at everyone? Not cool? Exactly. The law is there to keep society running smoothly. It’s a good thing, so why not write it in a way that helps us admire both the law and your humanity?

In one of their promotional PDFs the AIGA (The American Institute of Graphic Arts) writes, The role of the designer is to have ideas – and to inspire them in others.” Great quote. Everyone has ideas, and everyone who isn’t entirely evil enjoys inspiring other people at least in some way. Not convinced? Lets assume that you get paid the same for doing your job whether you do it in a banal, uninspiring way that makes people sigh or in a way that inspires them and makes them smile. Which one would you choose? You don’t have to be talented at illustration to be a good designer; all you have to do is have ideas and aim to make people smile with them. The rest is just attention to details.