A Return to Subtlety

A word on subtlety. Subtlety seems to be all but gone from mainstream culture. I think this is due in large part to the advertising and film industry's attitude toward "common" individuals - that they are dumb and unlikely to appreciate subtlety. And perhaps, consequently, we are breeding out the ability to recognize and use subtlety. Which is a shame. Enormously.

To speak to advertising specifically, I'm a huge proponent of getting consumers involved intellectually in the message. Make them a participant. Subtlety does this. Because it requires the audience to complete the thought, often in a creative way. And participation at that level engenders brand affinity.

I was inspired to write this post by a lovely set of illustrations by design student Lauren Monaco inspired by Kerouac haikus. The marriage of her simple, but ethereal illustrations to Jack's paradoxical words is nothing short of magical, and wrought with subtlety.

And so, I call you to arms. Inject subtlety where you can. And all shall reap the rewards.

Crave Boredom

Disclaimer: This post is not for the old-timers; you already know its insights. And this post is not for the newcomers, as one must learn discipline before one can let go of it.

I just read Wendy Richmond's article on Commarts.com, “Permission to Loiter,” and connected with it immediately.

She describes how the most meaningful projects arise from being in a place of loitering and idleness. She talks about how she now resists that urge to be productive, but rather lets it arise organically. These words particularly resonated with me:

I want to go against the obvious urge of being productive and instead wait to see, out of the infinite number of possible directions, where my thoughts choose to linger.

I've had a theory around boredom for some time now that converges with Richmond's thoughts nicely. For an active mind in today's information age, it's actually rather difficult to find boredom. Nearly impossible, if one does not actively cultivate it. RSS feeds, DVRs and the steady flow of all forms of entertainment (video games, movies, music, etc.) all mean that we never have to be bored again. And that to me is rather tragic.

We've all seen the deluge of diatribes against the excess flow of information, which tend to focus on the inability of individuals to process the information effectively, responsibly. But my fear is that we become too much the consumer and too little the producer. Even the majority of what's being produced is repackaging old information. (Consider the nostalgia trend in moviemaking. Did we really need a remake of The Dukes of Hazzard.)

But I believe boredom is what triggers the creative mind (where there is one). When the conscious mind is idle, the subconscious mind gets to work. And after a reasonable time, makes itself known to the conscious time. “Say, conscious mind, you've been shelling peanuts for the past hour. I'll bet you could build an automatic peanut sheller. And here's how.”

Now, I'm not advocating that we all wander around aimlessly for half our lives, waiting for inspiration to strike us rich. But set aside some time each week to do nothing. You might be surprised at just how productive doing nothing can be.

Not So on Target?

The Target Up & Up store brand has been on shelves for about a year now, and I'm still not sure I get the marketing goal here.

Yes, the design is clean, bright and not unpleasant to look at. Yes, it provides consistent branding. But it doesn't communicate, does it?

Take this Up & Up package for their baby formula.

The most prominent components, those that draw the eye, are the stuffed toy image and the Up & Up brand logo. What do these items tell you about what you're getting? Absolutely nothing. To find that out, you'll have to read the non-descript header near the top. Which would not be so unreasonable if you weren't looking at a sea of similarly labeled products.

Branding: 1
Communication: 0

Design that doesn't communicate serves no purpose. Even pure art communicates and connects to us. This is worse than a blatant case of "make the logo bigger." We have to add, "disguise the purpose of this package, please."

Thinking Like a Kid: Marshmallows and Spaghetti

I just washed a fascinating talk on TED.com about the "Marshmallow Challenge." Teams of four were given 20 sticks of spaghetti, one yard of masking tape, one yard of string and one marshmallow. The goal is to build, in 18 minutes, the tallest free-standing structure, upon which the marshmallow rests atop.

What's fascinating about the results is how successful kindergarteners were (highly) versus M.B.A. graduates (poorly). The reason is two-fold. First, the M.B.A. graduates have been trained to plan for the perfect solution and then execute, which in this case, as in the real world, leaves them little time to react if that one solution fails. The children simply dove in to the process without jockeying for leadership and were able to execute many iterations and revisions. Second, the marshmallow, when supported by spaghetti sticks is heavier than people realize. So when a single plan uses the assumption of a light marshmallow, and that marshmallow is not placed onto the structure until the end, there is little time to react when the structure collapses. On the whole, 40% of the teams finished the challenge with no successful structure.

I think we all like structure and process. It's a safe feeling place, where deadlines are fixed and people's time is protected. But perhaps the more traditional ad process is a waste of time. Perhaps, what would be more effective is to plan for playtime up front. Playtime by the people building the project, not the executives, not the managers, but the builders, the creative minds. Tell them, here are your spaghetti sticks, your marshmallows, now go try some stuff. Lots of stuff. Go nuts.

Oh, by the way, the most successful group? Engineers and architects. You know, the builders.

Here's the talk.