In Praise of the Cube: Creatives Need Privacy
I'm a bit of an introvert. Maybe more than a bit. I find group activities somewhat draining. I find solitude rejuvenating and I do my best creative work when I'm alone.
Given that, it's kind of funny that I've spent my career leading large groups of designers and artists in creative settings, Fortune 500 companies, global brand consultancies and learning institutions.
I began weaving the web of my career as a painter, a fine artist. A solitary pursuit for the most part. When I needed to find a path to make a better living I got my MFA so I could teach. I loved teaching because I love learning. I love sharing how to travel a path of learning with others.
Later, I found that being a creative director was a lot like teaching except you made more money. Also, your work and the work of your teams are enjoyed by people all over the world. No artist wants to work in a total vacuum.
But with this transition came a need to be more outgoing. To be more often involved in group pursuits than individual ones. I built up that muscle. And it took a lot of trips to the gym.
Susan Cain, in her book "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" writes about how in the 20th century as our society moved from agrarian communities in the country to the cities, we changed. We went from working with a small group of people who we knew well to living and working in large groups of people we didn't know. Being "outgoing" became the goal. Our hero's became the great salesman of the world. Our bible, Dale Carnegie's "How to win friends and influence people".
This evolution brought with it physical changes to where and how we are working. In the corporate world and particularly design studios, the move to create open floor plan work spaces has reached a critical mass. In a knee-jerk reaction to breaking down the walls of de-personalization that the Dilbert-esque office cubicle seas wrought, we have lost something that was worth protecting. Solitude. Designers need solitude. They need quiet and privacy to ruminate and ideate and play with ideas. Without distraction.
The casualties of this evolution are everywhere. You can see them in any design studio in the world hiding under their noise-cancelling headphones. They aren't just getting into their own jams. They are trying to escape the constant noise and distraction the crumbling of the cubicle walls has brought down on them.
One designer on Whirlpool articulates what I have heard over and over in my years as a creative leader:
"I work in an open-plan office, and hate talking to the people near me. I just don't want to annoy everyone else. So instead, I hole up at my desk, earphones on all day. I email people who sit five feet from me. Whoever designed my office has absolutely failed: Instead of making people more collaborative, it separated them. This trend needs to stop."
The results of this trend are also quantifiable it turns out. Finland's Institute of Occupational Health reports a decline of 5-10% of the performance of cognitive tasks like reading, writing and other creative work when in an open office setting. Management might be too drunk on the work-pod Kool-Aide and the cost savings in office furniture. Or the shoulder-surfing tabs-keeping on "what the hell are these people doing?".
Or that open office plans just look cool. And I have to say they do look cool. Because if we look cool and modern, we are cool and modern, right? I mean, can you imagine a design firm with cubes? I didn't think so. This, it turns out, is a big part of the problem.
The facts increasingly point to this: Companies see open, collaborative spaces as an extension of their brand image. They are more interested in how it looks, than how well it actually works. Solitude is just out of fashion. Simple as that. And for creatives and designers that's a problem.
It should be a problem for their companies, too.
All this is outweighing optimal creative productivity. And since when has business turned it's back on improved productivity? Especially when in today's business world, creativity and innovation are what separates the winners from the also-rans.
The fact is people whose work is distracted make 50% more mistakes and take twice as long to finish. Maybe that has something to do with the complaint that we are working longer hours than ever.
Plus, most designers don't like it. You've heard "A happy wife is a happy life"? Well it goes triple for designers.
The real question is: What does work? The answer is choice. Balance. Companies and agencies need to give designers access to both kinds of work spaces. If I were to place a bet, I would bet that the spaces that afford designers quiet, uninterrupted concentration and a reasonable amount of visual privacy will be the ones being fought over. Tooth and nail, if I know my designers.
The pendulum of open floor plan offices needs to swing back to center.
In re-watching Susan Cain's amazing TED talk about the power of introversion, one statement jumped out at me. "There are no revelations without solitude."
What design revelations and innovations have we already missed by removing our creatives space to think?
photo credit: Ben Mautner, @flickr
Sensory Packaging: Beyond the Box
I was interviewed by Packaging World Magazine about "sensory packaging" last year. I think that the topic is more important that ever. Everywhere you turn brands are engaging a broader range of senses to elevate the customer experience, improve engagement, driving trial and purchase.
I had a conversation with Microsoft a few months ago about how they might be able to "consider" with much more intent and attention the experience people have when they open one of their products. They have come a long way from the days of "What if Microsoft designed the iPod packaging" but they still have a way to go. Their Surface box is really quite sexy with a really nice use of clean lacquer on black matte.
I discussed Apple with them, of course, how could you not? That's who they are watching and chasing of course. Who isn't? Apart from the admirable visual cleanliness of the pack design, the tactile experience, the tightness of the box seams, the nesting of the product, the feeling in your fingers when the box top pulls off is all completely "considered". Even the smell of the interior.
Have you ever smelled the interior of a new computer box? You probably wouldn't even mentally register it, but I would bet that you have a olfactory memory of it. There is even a company that makes a USB device that exudes smells. Imagine if they offered a "new Mac smell". I'd buy one. Just like the car "scent pine trees" that smelled like "new car".
Olfactory memories are the most indelible that humans have. Every time I smell Chanel #5 I think of my grandmother. Every time. She passed 20 years ago. Every time I smell root beer I think of Deerhorn Camp in Wisconsin (long story…)
Here's my extended interview "The Sentient Side of Packaging" from Packaging World Magazine Anne Marie Mohan was a fantastic interviewer and I thank her for making sense of my ramblings where I discussed everything from scratch and sniff to velvet flocking.
A Great Career Looks More Like A Web Than A Ladder
In my professional life, I'd like to say I'm mostly self-taught. But to be truthful, I didn't teach myself. Hardly anyone does, unless they are a contractor or self-employed. It was on-the-job training; that is, experiencing new challenges and learning on the fly and with the help and guidance of some incredible managers.
I was schooled in the fine arts and got my MFA in Painting. But then, after years of struggling to find teaching work at the college level and working day jobs, I started my own apparel company. I eventually closed my business and went to work for one of my competitors as a T-Shirt designer. This was at the dawn of the computer era, so I taught myself everything I could on my own time at home, and then put it to work at the office, doing apparel, catalogs, marketing collateral, etc.
Eventually I moved up and started managing people and quickly discovered that managing designers was a lot like teaching, except you made a lot more money and weren't out of work every 9 months. And I was good at it. I loved inspiring, developing and leading creative people. And I found I loved business.
I eventually landed at a Fortune 100 apparel company and after 11 years worked my way up from director to VP overseeing 4 departments and 65 people. I had an incredible mentor there who gave me a new challenge or a new department or a promotion just when I needed it. I learned the "business" of business: financial reporting, budgets, HR goal setting, assortment planning, building presentation decks, doing cost/benefit analysis. All the things that they don't tell you you'll have to do when you think you want to be a CD. I am good at it and unlike many creative types, I also like it.
After I left the apparel/retail industry I moved over to the agency-side as an Executive Creative Director, doing strategic design, branding and consumer packaged goods. I had an incredible mentor there as well. I was learning on the job. I could lead designers, but knew little about strategic design or design thinking when I started. I learned to pitch and win new business, manage client relationships, build processes. All on the job.
My career isn't typical. As Paul Pressler used to say at the Gap, "A great career looks more like a web than a ladder." You have to teach yourself whatever you can, when you can. Be open to learning from managers, mentors, co-workers and even vendors. Take new challenges on. Embark on a new career trajectory even though you may only have a vague idea of where it's going or what you're doing. You'll learn more. Learning is one of the great joys in life. It should never end.