I suppose it’s fitting to start this post by saying, this line is not mine.
I heard it first from a talented designer I worked with years ago named Debra Ford. We were taking a continuing education class on the subject of concept development and, early in the course, she just blurted it out.
I was young. She was young. Most of the students in the class were young. We were all full of ourselves, except for Debra. She had the humblest demeanor, if not the most talent in the room.
I was immediately drawn to her, as she, with those few words, kicked the stool right out from under my rump. I thank God I came across her early in my career, as her statement was the most important concept I could ever have gotten out of that class.
You see, as a “creative” hire, growing up in the traditional ad agency environment of the early 1980s, I was coddled, allowed to wear jeans and tee shirts to work where others had to wear suits (as was the convention of the time). I had toys lining the walls of my office. I said outrageous things and did outrageous things to confirm my standing as one of the “creatives.” I seriously thought I had everyone fooled.
Truth was, I was often unsettled by deadlines, not sure of where my next great concept would come from, but bound, sure and determined, that it would be my idea and that I would get (and deserve) all the credit for proposing it.
Needless to say, a lot of my ideas never saw the light of day, expunged by wiser creative directors who had seized on better ideas.
Then Debra came along. And I grew up. Through her example, I started to see that my selfish pride was only limiting my creativity, blunting my thinking and diluting my solutions.
Debra cracked me open to a better understanding of the “mastermind” concept, so eloquently presented by Napoleon Hill in his classic treatise, “Think and Grow Rich,” which I happened to pick up well after Debra and I had met.
In simple terms, Hill describes the power of putting multiple minds on a problem and allowing the combined intelligence to bubble up a more perfect solution. While Debra never mentioned Hill directly, she had the right idea. The perfect solution can come from anywhere or, in the mastermind construct, possibly everywhere, all at once.
The secret is simply getting out of the way of the perfect solution. It’s what all great creative directors instinctively understand and practice.
A great idea can come from another creative colleague, an account executive, a salesperson, a customer service rep, a spouse, a neighbor or, yes, even the client directly.
It can ride in on the ether of all these combined sources, floating up until one indefatigable idea sticks. Or clicks, with a slight refinement. Or survives a beating from a less humble contributor striving to impose personal authorship on the outcome with self-aggrandizing clumsiness.
The latter case can be particularly troubling, especially when that self-aggrandizing klutz happens to be the authority who is paying for the effort.
But even then, the unselfish mind can intercede with deftness, and in some cases, avert the disaster that is invariably the product of a heavy, selfish hand. Indeed, it is in the giving away of authorship that the greatest concepts are allowed to breathe. It is by opening the aperture on the solution landscape that the best solution can find its way in. It is by quieting the ego long enough, to recognize the electric strike of a dazzling idea, that the best creative product might emerge. The ultimate muse. The very product of an unselfish mind.