‘Twas the Night Before Launch Day

‘Twas the Night Before Launch Day

‘Twas the night before launch day, when throughout HQ,
Not a worker had left, there was too much to do;
The plans were laid out by the whiteboard with care,
While our Innovation Chief Sarah planned with great flair;

The team was all nestled all snug at their posts,
While visions of success inspired them the most;
And Sarah in her blazer, so sharp and so bright,
Had just settled in for a long working night,

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
She sprang from her desk to see what was the matter.
When what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But the CEO and board, spreading holiday cheer!

“Now, ARCHITECTURE!” they cried, “We need strategy and rules!
Now BEHAVIORS and CULTURE!” – these ABC tools.
“Tell us Sarah,” they said, “how you’ll lead us to glory,
Through bringing new value – tell us your story!”

She smiled as she stood, confidence in her stance,
“The ABCs of Innovation aren’t left up to chance.
Architecture’s our framework, our process and measure,
Our governance model not built at our leisure;

“The Behaviors we foster? Curiosity leads,
With courage and commitment to meet future needs.
And Culture,” she said, with a twinkle of pride,
“Is how innovation becomes our natural stride.”

Her cross-functional team gathered ’round with delight,
Each bringing their skills to help win this big fight:
“From concept to testing, from planning to more,
We’re ready to launch what we’ve worked toward before!”

The CEO beamed and the board gave a cheer,
“This is exactly the progress we’d hoped for this year!
With Architecture to guide us, and Behaviors so strong,
Plus Culture to fuel us – well, nothing could go wrong!”

Then Sarah exclaimed, as they turned out the light,
“Happy launching to all, and to all a good night!
For tomorrow we share what’s been worth all the wait,
Guided by ABCs, we’ll make something great!”

If You Want to Be Happy, Ignore Your Customers

If You Want to Be Happy, Ignore Your Customers

“Now I know why our researchers are so sad.”

Teaching at The Massachusetts College of Art and Design (MassArt) offers a unique perspective. By day, I engage with seasoned business professionals. By night, I interact with budding designers and artists, each group bringing vastly different experiences to the table.

Customer-centricity is the hill I will die on…

In my Product Innovation Lab course, students learn the innovation process and work in small teams to apply those lessons to the products they create.

We spend the first quarter of the course to problem-finding.  It’s excruciating for everyone.  Like their counterparts in business and engineering, they’re bursting with ideas, and they hate being slowed down.  Despite data proving that poor product-market fit a leading cause of start-up failure and that 54% of innovations launched by big companies fail to reach $1M in sales (a paltry number given the scale of surveyed companies), they’re convinced their ideas are flawless.

We spend two weeks exploring Jobs to be Done and practicing interviewing techniques.  But their first  conversations sound more like interrogations than anything we did in class.

They return from their interviews and share what they learned.  After each insight, I ask, “Why is that?” or “Why is that important?

Amazingly, they have answers.

While their first conversations were interrogations, once the nervousness fades, they remember their training, engage in conversations, and discover surprising and wonderful answers.

Yet the still prioritize the answers to “What” over answers to “Why?”

…Because it’s the hill that will kill me.

Every year, this cycle repeats.  This year, I finally asked why, after weeks of learning that the answers to What questions are almost always wrong and Why questions are the only path to the right answers (and differentiated solutions with a sustainable competitive advantage), why do they still prioritize the What answers?

The answer was a dagger to my heart.

“That’s what the boss wants to know,” a student explained.  “Bosses just want to know what we need to build so they can tell engineering what to make.  They don’t care why we should make it or whether it’s different.  In fact, it’s better if it’s not different.”

I tried to stay professional, but there was definitely a sarcastic tone when I asked how that was working.

“We haven’t launched anything in 18 months because no one likes what we build.  We spend months on prototypes, show them to users, and they hate it.  Then, when we ask the researchers to do more research because their last insights were wrong, they get all cra….OOOOHHHHHHHH…..”

(insert clouds parting, beams of sunlight shining down, and a choir of angels here)

“That’s why the researchers are so sad all the time!  They always try to tell us the “Whys” behind the “Whats” but no one wants to hear it.  We just want to know what to build to get to work.  But we could create something people love if we understood why today’s things don’t work!”

Honestly, I didn’t know whether to drop the mic in triumph or flip the table in rage.

Ignorance may be bliss but obsolesce is not

It’s easy to ignore customers. 

To send them surveys with pre-approved answers choices that can be quickly analyzed and neatly presented to management.  To build exactly what customers tell you to build, even though you’re the expert on what’s possible and they only know what’s needed.

It’s easy to point to the surveys and prototypes and claim you are customer-centric. If only the customers would cooperate.

It’s much harder to listen to customers.  To ask questions, listen to answers you don’t want to hear, and repeat those answers to more powerful people who want to hear them even less.  To have the courage to share rough prototypes and to take the time to be curious when customers call them ugly.

So, if you want to be happy, keep pretending to care about your customers. 

Pretty soon, you won’t have any left to bother you.

Wisdom from the Waters: An Innovation Leadership Fable

Wisdom from the Waters: An Innovation Leadership Fable

Once upon a time, in a lush forest, there lived a colony of industrious beavers known far and wide for their magnificent dams, which provided shelter and sustenance for many.

One day, the wise old owl who governed the forest decreed that all dams must be rebuilt to withstand the increasingly fierce storms that plagued their land. She gave the beavers two seasons to complete it, or they would lose half their territory to the otters.

The Grand Design: Blueprints and Blind Spots

The beaver chief, a kind fellow named Oakchew, called the colony together, inviting both the elder beavers, known for their experience and sage advice and the young beavers who would do the actual building.

Months passed as the elders debated how to build the new dams. They argued about mud quantities, branch angles, and even which mix of grass and leaves would provide structural benefit and aesthetic beauty.  The young beavers sat silently, too intimidated by their elders’ status to speak up.

Work Begins: Dams and Discord

As autumn leaves began to fall, Oakchew realized they had yet to start building. Panicked, he ordered work to commence immediately.

The young beavers set to work but found the new method confusing and impractical. As time passed, progress slowed, panic set in, arguments broke out, and the once-harmonious colony fractured.

One group insisted on precisely following the new process even as it became obvious that they would not meet the deadline.  Another reverted to their old ways, believing that a substandard something was better than nothing.  And one small group went rogue, retreating to the smallest stream to figure it out for themselves.

As the deadline grew closer, the beavers worked day and night, but progress was slow and flawed. In desperation, Oakchew called upon the squirrels to help, promising half the colony’s winter food stores.

Just as the first storm clouds gathered, Oakchew surveyed the completed dams. Many were built as instructed, but the rushed work was evident and showed signs of weakness. Most dams were built with the strength and craftsmanship of old but were likely to fail as the storms’ intensity increased. One stood alone and firm, roughly constructed with a mix of old and new methods.

Wisdom from the Waters: Experiments and Openness

Oakchew’s heart sank as he realized the true cost of their efforts. The beavers had met their deadline but at a great cost. Many were exhausted and resentful, some had left the colony altogether, and their once-proud craftsmanship was now shoddy and unreliable.

He called a final meeting to reflect on what had happened.  Before the elders could speak, Oakchew asked the young beavers for their thoughts.  The colony listened in silent awe as the young builders explained the flaws in the “perfect” process. The rogue group explained that they had started building immediately, learning from each failure, and continuously improving their design.

“We wasted so much time trying to plan the perfect dam,” Oakchew admitted to the colony. “If we had started building sooner and learned from our mistakes, we would not have paid such a high cost for success. We would not have suffered and lost so much if we had worked to ensure every beaver was heard, not just invited.”

From that day forward, the beaver colony adopted a new approach of experimentation, prototyping, and creating space for all voices to be heard and valued.  While it took many more seasons of working together to improve their dams, replenish their food stores, and rebuild their common bonds, the colony eventually flourished once more.

The Moral of the Story (just in case it isn’t obvious)

The path to success is paved not with perfect plans but with the courage to act, the wisdom to learn from failures, and the openness to embrace diverse ideas. True innovation arises when we combine the best of tradition with the boldness of experimentation.

Collaboration Software is Killing Collaboration

Collaboration Software is Killing Collaboration

In our race to enable and support hybrid teams, our reliance on collaboration software has inadvertently caused us to forget the art of true collaboration. 

The pandemic forced us to rely on digital platforms for communication and creativity. But as we embraced these tools, something essential was lost in translation. Last week, I watched team members sitting elbow-to-elbow spend two hours synthesizing discovery interviews and debating opportunity areas entirely by chat.

What collaboration is

“Collaboration” seems to have joined the ranks of meaningless corporate buzzwords.  In an analysis of 1001 values from 172 businesses, “collaboration” was the #2 most common value (integrity was #1), appearing in 23% of the companies’ value statements. 

What it means in those companies’ statements is anyone’s guess (we’ve all been in situations where stated values and lived values are two different things).  But according to the dictionary, collaboration is “the situation of two or more people working together to create or achieve the same thing.”

That’s a short definition with a lot of depth. 

  • “The same thing” means that the people working together are working towards a shared goal in which they have a stake in the outcome (not just the completion). 
  • “Working together” points towards interdependence, that everyone brings something unique to the work and that shared goal cannot be achieved without each person’s unique contribution. 
  • “Two or more people” needing each other to achieve a shared outcome requires a shared sense of respect, deep trust, and vulnerability.

It’s easy to forget what “collaboration” means.  But we seem to have forgotten how to do it.

What collaboration is not

As people grow more comfortable “collaborating” online, it seems that fewer people are actually collaborating.   

Instead, they’re:

  • Transacting: There is nothing wrong with email, texts, or messaging someone on your platform of choice.  But for the love of goodness, don’t tell me our exchange was a collaboration. If it were, every trip to the ATM would be a team-building exercise.
  • Offering choices:  When you go out to eat at a fast-food restaurant, do you collaborate with the employee to design your meal?  No.  You order off a menu.  Offering a choice between two or three options (without the opportunity to edit or customize the options), isn’t collaboration.  It’s taking an order.
  • Complying: Compliance is “the act of obeying a law or rule, especially one that controls a particular industry or type of work.”  Following rules isn’t collaboration, it’s following a recipe
  • Cooperating:  Cooperation is when two or more people work together independently or interdependently to achieve someone else’s goal.  Collaboration requires shared objectives and ownership, not just shared tasks and timelines.

There’s nothing wrong with any of these activities.  Just don’t confuse them with collaboration because it sends the wrong message to your people. 

Why this matters

This isn’t an ivory-tower debate about semantics.

When people believe that simple Q&A, giving limited and unalterable options, following rules, and delivering requests are collaboration, they stop thinking.  Curiosity, creativity, and problem-solving give way to efficiency and box-checking.  Organizations stop exploring, developing, and innovating and start doing the same thing better, faster, and cheaper.

So, if you truly want your organization to grow because it’s filled with creative and empathetic problem-solvers, invest in reclaiming the true spirit of collaboration.  After all, the next big idea isn’t hiding in a chat log—it’s waiting to be born in the spark of genuine collaboration.

Leaked MrBeast Document: A Shining Example of Leadership

Leaked MrBeast Document: A Shining Example of Leadership

In the often murky world of corporate communication, a leaked MrBeast document has emerged as a beacon of clarity. Far from being your typical vague, jargon-filled memo, this onboarding document is a crystal-clear recipe for success that’s as refreshing as it is rare.

But first, let’s address the elephant in the room. MrBeast’s empire isn’t without its share of controversy. Reports of toxic work environments, unsafe conditions for contestants, and allegations of rigged games cast a shadow over his content creation machine and his leadership capabilities. These are serious issues that merit investigation and discussion. As a result, this post isn’t an endorsement of MrBeast as a leader, it’s an endorsement of an onboarding document that he wrote.

The Secret Sauce: Clarity Meets Innovation

What sets this document apart is its razor-sharp clarity and relentless focus on creativity. Unlike the vague platitudes that plague many corporate communications, job descriptions, and performance matrixes, this document clearly outlines expectations, success metrics, and the strategies and tactics to fuel continuous innovation.

This clarity is transformative for people and organizations. When team members understand both the guardrails and the goals, they channel their creative energy into groundbreaking ideas rather than second-guessing their approach and worrying about repercussions.

Expectations: Always Be Learning

The first principle is a clear directive: always be learning. In MrBeast’s world, this isn’t just about personal growth—it’s about staying ahead in a rapidly changing digital landscape. This commitment to continuous learning fuels innovation by ensuring the team is constantly exploring new technologies, trends, and creative techniques.

While some see the definition of A, B, and C-players as evidence of a toxic workplace, the fact is that it’s the reality in most workplaces.  It’s the absence of clarity, usually disguised by claims of family-like cultures that value diversity, that makes workplaces toxic. 

Metrics: The Start of a Feedback Loop

The focus on specific success metrics like Click-Through Rate and Average View Duration isn’t just about measurement—it’s about creating a feedback loop for innovation. Clear benchmarks developed over time allow teams to quickly assess the impact of new ideas and iterate accordingly.  It also removes the temptation and ability to “move the goalposts” to create the appearance of success.

Strategy: Structure Meets Creativity

After describing what success looks like for employees and how they’ll be measured, the document outlines a structured content formula akin to an innovation strategy. It provides a clear framework of priorities, goals, and boundaries while encouraging creative experimentation within those boundaries.

Starting with a step-by-step guide to making videos with a “wow” factor, the document also emphasizes the criticality of focusing on “critical components” and managing dependencies and

Far from the usual corporate claims that direction and “how to’s” constrain creativity and disempower employees, this approach creates a safety net that allows employees to be successful while still pushing the envelope of what’s possible in content creation.

How to Become Your Version of (a non-controversial) Mr. Beast

You don’t have to be a content creator, social media savant, or company founder to follow MrBeast’s lead.  You have to do something much more difficult – communicate clearly and consistently.

  1. Clearly define what success looks like (and doesn’t) for your employees and projects.
  2. Establish frameworks that encourage bold ideas while maintaining focus.
  3. Define objective success metrics and consistently measure, track, and use them.

This leaked MrBeast document offers more than just a glimpse into a YouTube empire; it’s a masterclass in leadership in the era of hybrid workplaces, geographically dispersed teams, and emerging cultures and norms. 

The document’s approach shows that innovation doesn’t have to be chaotic. By providing clear expectations and frameworks, leaders can create an environment where creativity thrives, and groundbreaking ideas can be rapidly developed and implemented.

When viewed in the bigger context of the MrBeast organization, however, the document is also a reminder that no matter how clear you think your communication is, you must be vigilant for those who claim that bad behavior is just a “misunderstanding.” Leaders know that no amount of views, clicks, or revenue is worth sacrificing the well-being of their teams.