Stanford d.school viral marketing course rides again!

If you are a Stanford graduate student and want to get some sticky experience in designing stuff to be viral, please sign up for Creating Infectious Engagement.  This course is the third iteration of a vein of intellectual inquiry which began with Creating Infectious Action (CIA) two years ago, and became Creating Infectious Action, Kindling Gregarious Behavior (CIA-KGB) last year.  Is there a government agency named CIE anywhere on the planet?  Let me know about that one.

As usual, the d.school experience is all about team teaching, because it increases variance.  I have the pleasure of joining an illustrious, experienced, and fun teaching team for the class:  Debra Dunn, Perry Klebahn, Kerry O’Connor, and Bob Sutton.  We’ll be doing projects for Facebook and the Climate Savers  Computing Project.

You can find out more about the class at Bob’s blog.  The class is for registered Stanford graduate students and will likely be the most work of any class you’ve ever taken at Stanford.  If you are interested in
applying to the class, please send a resume and statement to CIEapplication@lists.stanford.edu
(no more than 500 words) about why you are interested
in taking the class and will be a constructive part of it.  Additionally,
please list your experiences, if any, with d.school classes.  Applications
are due March 15 and admissions to the class will be announced on March 19.
   Also, if you have any questions, please write
Debra, Kerry,
or
Bob.

Director’s Commentary: Amia Chair

Here’s a marvellous Director’s Commentary about the Amia chair.  Thomas Overthun, a colleague of mine from IDEO, and Bruce Smith of Steelcase take us through its genesis.

Watch the video, and find out why an integral part of innovating is being willing to cut everything in half.  It’s all about strategy that makes your hands bleed: I challenge you to find something in your work life that you should cut in half on the bandsaw, if only metaphorically.

Why not?

Adios, WoW!

Diegogyrocopter

Like my fellow blogger John, I recently quit World of Warcraft.  It wasn’t just about saving the $15/month I was blowing on a game I wasn’t playing anymore; many issues played a role in my decision, to wit:

  1. WoW just isn’t as cool anymore.  Ah, you say, it was never cool!  Oh, but it was.  WoW is the most amazing piece of "flow design" — the art of matching challenge to skill — that I’ve ever had the pleasure to use.  Pair its ability to put one in a state of flow with some beautiful graphics and an easy to use platform for social networking, and you’ve got one sticky game.  Cool, even.  But what is hip today soon becomes passe, and I fear that WoW has become a victim of its own success, becoming too familiar and too big.  And, to paraphrase a statement I heard over the weekend, advertising is the penalty companies pay for being uninteresting: I knew I had to quit WoW when I saw the commercial featuring Mr. T.  In its heyday, WoW didn’t need mass advertising.  (cash cow)*(milking it) = uninteresting
  2. Per the wisdom of Bob Sutton, I decided I had enough power, fame, glory, and material wealth.  In WoW, that is.  When you’re a level 70 Hunter and your equipment is good enough to not get killed every five minutes, and you’ve got a pet bear named Yogi who you love like a… dog, and your outfit couldn’t be more Darth Vader, and you finally built that gyrocopter to validate all those hours spent getting your engineering up to 350, there just isn’t much more left to life.  With all of this achieved, I quickly fell off the challenge/skill matching curve and the flow stopped flowing.
  3. Opportunity costs.  I’m all about learning by doing, and I learned a lot from tooting around the world of WoW.  I learned about designing for flow, and got a glimpse of what the future of truly social software may hold.  Enough, even, to get a journal article out of it.  Now that the learning is under my belt, I’m ready for the next thing.  What should I do?  Let me know if you have any ideas.

But I’m more than a little bummed.  I miss Diegoman a bunch already.  Sniff sniff, sniff sniff.

TEDding…

I’m blogging a bit from TED this week over at the TEDBlog.  I’m not trying to blog about big stuff said on stage, as there’s lots of "small" interesting stuff scattered around the conference.  I just wrote one post, more to come if I can tear myself away from the Google coffee bar.

Brand evolutions

Here’s some brain fodder to play with the next time you’re stuck in traffic: Evolution of Car Logos

Just look at the evolution of the SAAB badge.  Amazing how much churn there is on the automotive branch of the tree for a brand which only emerged after WWII:

Carlogosaab_2

Myself, I like the 1949 badge the best.  Don’t like the screaming chicken so much.  How does one say "Burt Reynolds" in Swedish?

As I look through this site, I have to admit that many of the older badge renditions are at least as compelling as their replacements, and often more so.  Having been a brand manager at one point in my peripatetic career, I sense that the rationale for many brand revisions or logo redesigns are rooted more in internal politics and the need to do something tangible for one’s yearly performance review than in market needs.  In other words, most customers probably don’t care if your new logo is slightly better than your old one, especially if they just finally got used to the old one, because it has only been the old for the three years that have passed since the last redesign.  As with management, sometimes the best marketing may be no marketing at all…

Anyway, it’s fun stuff.  Thanks to Tim for pointing me to this link!

Rethinking management education, organizing for routine innovation, Charles Eames, and the importance of holding the air gun trigger down

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Just the other week I had the pleasure of dropping in on one of Bob Sutton’s graduate courses at Stanford.  I was supposed to be on paternity leave, but if you haven’t noticed yet, I have this thing for racing and cars, and well, it’s only a ten-minute walk to the Stanford campus from where I live, and my wife is a kind and charitable soul when it comes to indulging my passion for gearhead gnarlyness.  Call it a busman’s holiday. This particular class (pictured above) deals with navigating innovations through complex organizations.  Yes, that’s a real NASCAR racer.  Yes, those are real live Stanford graduate students.  And yes, that’s what February in California looks like.

So what’s going on in the photo?  A very interesting exercise in teamwork which exposes and illuminates all sorts of juicy issues in organizing for innovation.  In this class, Sutton, co-teacher Michael Dearing, and guest lecturer Andy Papathanassiou of Hendrick Motorsports get teams of students to go through the process of changing the tires on a NASCAR machine.  It is harder than it looks: the tires and rims are heavy, the car wants to fall of the jack (well, it is on jack stands, but it feels like it wants to fall off), and the lug nuts seem to be cross-bred with jumping beans.  You can read more about the class exercise here and here.

After 60 minutes of watching teams of students go from zero to hero in terms of their tire-changing acumen, my head was buzzing with lessons for those studying the art and science of bringing cool things to life:

  1. Mind your modalitiesHow do you want to grow?  What are you trying to accomplish?  At first glance, changing a tire is easy, right?  Take it off, grab a new one, bolt it on.  But how might one reduce the cycle time by 10%?  50%?  90%?  How would you organize teams to reach those goals?  And on the other hand, how do you create teams that are able to change tires in a hurry in the heat of the Daytona 500 without missing a beat?  And how do you get one team or organization to be good at both innovating and executing?  I think it is all about minding your modalities, knowing what you are shooting for at any instant.  If we want to commit to taking 20% off of our tire changing times over the course of a racing season, perhaps we need to start an R&D department whose function is to create extreme variance, to find those weird solutions that will lead to paradigm shifts.  And perhaps we need to establish a test team whose job it is to sort through the revolutionary stuff coming out of R&D in the name of focusing and honing a few promising solutions.  And then we need to find a way to train our front-line team so rigorously that they can execute flawlessly on that killer idea birthed in R&D, and matured by the test team.  Minding modalities is about recognizing when it’s about business by design versus business as usual, and structuring and leading things accordingly.  It’s about embracing variance when it is needed, and driving it out when it is not.   The best racing teams, such as Hendrick, Penske, and Ferrari, know how to do both.  They are masters of innovation modalities.
  2. Seek out constraints:  when staring in to the abyss of a blank sheet of paper, constraints provide a vital toehold, a way forward.  Not necessarily the way forward, because rarely is innovating a linear process, but a way forward nonetheless.  NASCAR is an incredibly constrained environment when it comes to the design and operation of race cars.  Everything is templatized and mandated to the nth degree by a central organization.  And yet, creativity flourishes, the leading edge continually moves forward, and the garden blooms.  Sure, there are some a few "cheating" weeds here and there, but that’s racers being racers.  Cheating is just a way of signaling that that a constraint is likely invalid.  Constraints = Progress.  Infinite possibilities lead to stasis.
  3. Organize for information flow:  How do you design an organization so that it can innovate where it needs to innovate and execute when it needs to execute?  Here’s a clue: drawing org charts won’t get you there.  Ideally, one thinks first about critical information flows which need to occur in order for certain outcomes to be realized.  Once those information flows are identified, the organizational structure emerges fairly organically, with an org chart as a by-product.  I was thrilled to meet Andy Papa at this class exercise, because Hendrick does a wicked job of organizing for creative information flow.  As a pioneer of the multi-car team in NASCAR, Hendrick has cracked the code on how to structure an organization such that variance-reducing, execution-minded focus (separate teams each competing to win the NASCAR cup) can coexist with a non-zero, variance-embracing, innovation-seeking worldview (everyone in the organization sharing information in order to identify patterns which lead to revolutionary and evolutionary innovations, and hopefully, victory for all).  Racing teams have no choice but to evolve or die, and to make tough choices or cease to be relevant, so I often look to them for inspiration when faced with organization design challenges in my own work.  You read it here first:  Hendrick is the New Apple.  Or the new GE.
  4. Learn by Doing: I’m entering broken-record mode here, but the teams that did the best in this class challenge were those that dove in and started changing tires.  Instead of arguing over who would be the CEO of rickybobbytirechangers.com, and who would be leading the war for talent, these teams got down on the ground and got their hands dirty.  By the wail of the air gun, thee too shall witness one’s strategy emerge.  And so it happened — the best way around a NASCAR wheelwell can’t be thought through in one’s head, but has to be iteratively solved with hand and heart and brain.  In other words, strategy that makes your hands bleed.

Note to self: if ever I find myself swapping out new rubber in a big hurry, keep the trigger down on the air gun.  WFO, baby!