When we leave our ideas, fitness, mindset, or environment unattended, other forces take priority. Sometimes, an unattended period allows for the answer to reveal itself or a new perspective to present. Other times, our prior work is overgrown by new forces with another purpose.
Pursuing a different mindset to evaluate an opportunity or problem? Assign categories to the X and Y axes. Then, ask your team of decision-makers to plot their individual coordinates. Possible examples deployed as icebreakers:
Y-Axis: Innovate –> Protect X-Axis: Boost –> Undervalue
Y-Axis: Remarkable –> Indespensible X-Axis: Oversight –> UnScripted
Y-Axis: Trust –> Authenticity X-Axis: Passion –> Reliable
Despite all the economic data accumulated and monitored, the emotional perception of the economy is gathered in a few reports; the Consumer Confidence and Survey of Consumer Perception reports are headline examples. These are reminders that despite economic indicators pointing in one direction, the consumer’s emotional state may be uncoupled from economic trends.
How might we incorporate the perception and confidence of those we serve into our deliberations? Few dashboards capture the human element, instead prioritizing headline numbers. Enrollment might be increasing, but the trust we anticipated we were building is actually eroding the foundation. Our assessment of an enterprise’s progress (or regression) may be forecasted by anecdotal narratives before the data quantifies the disruption or delight we have generated.
The take-off and landing of an over-sea flight might get the most attention, but the cruise portion of the journey is where the distance is covered. The middle portion of our journeys is often overlooked, but it can have the biggest impact. A tailwind might push a commercial airliner to exceed 800 mph. A headwind and diversion for weather can create extended delays.
How might we recognize when we are in the middle portion of our journey? This is an opportunity to do the work that matters.
Contrast is what makes us stand out. It reveals ideas we might miss the first time we encounter an idea or opportunity. When we play the Where’s Waldo game, Waldo appears simple to find when introduced alone on the book’s cover. However, inside the book, Waldo is camouflaged when embedded in the images.
How might we leverage contrast to add depth or dimension to future deliberations?
How might we share our outtakes? The versions that were stepping stones to the finished product.
If professional athletes aspire to have an inspired fan base attend their events and cheer for them during a competition, is their reciprocity that they offer an interchange when encountering recreational athletes during training sessions? Said more directly, if amateur cyclists wish teams of professional cyclists greetings as they pass on the road, are multiple blank stares back from the pro squad a promising way to engage with fans? Might they lift a finger in recognition or utter ‘hi’?
How might we not overlook simple exchanges all due to our focus on assembling the greatest audience to cheer for us at our signature events? How might we remember that the most casual interactions might be the cement that creates a bond? Some of the most pleasing memories are formed in the unscripted moments orchestrated by serendipity.
There is audible frustration that current professional sport all-star games are becoming performative. There is little incentive to win, concerns about injuries, protective egos, and a growing apathy. How might an all-star event become noteworthy? Who is an all-star game for, the players or the fans? How might we ensure we are not hosting events that become irrelevant, even when we have the right people in the room?
Without awards, how would we know where we rank? How do you measure progress? Do you wait for the annual award show to allow for recognition or disappointment? What if you only have your personal results to use as a measurement? What if you only get a data report once a year? How long does an award sustain your efforts? Are you still talking about an elementary school spelling bee victory, a middle school track and field win, a high school team victory, a college academic achievement, a workplace honor from an accrediting agency, or the nod of appreciation from a co-worker? Awards have a shelf-life unless they are extremely rare (Noble Prize, Olympic Gold medal, World Championship). Awards might be waypoints to acknowledge and re-energize our efforts, but they cannot nourish or sustain us unless high school is the highlight of our lives.
What if we reserved the front rows for our super fans? How might our programs feel different if the people occupying the floor seats were highly passionate, dedicated, and knowledgeable? How might your audience’s mindset change if they were upgraded? The other option is to sell the best seats for the highest price (or allow transactions on the secondary market) and set high expectations. If we pay a premium, the margin to delight people is usually marginal. We can control certain aspects of our events, so why not promote the individuals who cheer for everyone?
What-if-concepts 