One of the reasons we enjoy stories is because they're relatable. They represent humanity and are emotionally driven.
The ancient Greeks and Romans knew this, as they spun yarns about the gods and heroic figures to explain aspects of nature or of the founding of their societies. The characters in their myths and legends had flaws just like we do, making it possible for their people to understand how it related to their own lives. Achilles' anger, Zeus' infidelity, Narcissus' self-infatuation. We could identify with them.
In the tradition of American tall tales, there's a similar tradition. Sometimes, the facts around a historical figure are embellished a bit, while other times characters are invented to explain a phenomenon. Johnny Appleseed was actually John Chapman, who planted nurseries of apple trees, while Paul Bunyan was a gigantic lumberjack who made the Grand Canyon while dragging his ax behind him.
And in more modern folklore, we have characters like SNL's Bill Brasky, the indefatigable Chuck Norris, and the Most Interesting Man in the World. Each one of these begins with a nugget of truth and builds on it in an entertaining way.
Which leads to this question: in marketing, do you have to lie to get ahead?
Perhaps "lie" is too harsh a word (although Seth Godin wrote All Marketers Are Liars). All marketers are storytellers, certainly. And just like the examples above, the stories need to be pertinent and believable. When we feel like we're part of the embellishment — that is, when it's known to us — we'll go along with it.
When it doesn't work is when it's an outright lie and we discover we're being deliberately deceived. If our trust is breached, it feels like a violation.
There's a fine line between embellishment and lie. The difference is in how you inform your audience.
Image credit: Scene from the Labors of Hercules on Cassone by Apollonio di Giovanni and Marco del Buono Giamberti, c. 1460 (public domain, Wikimedia Commons)
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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Road Not Taken is by far Robert Frost's best known poem. So much so that it has inspired many other creative outputs from others: books, commercials, episode titles for a dozen TV shows… In fact, it may be the best known American poem of all time. But most people get it wrong. The initial instinct is to view this poem as a celebration of individualism — of making a conscious choice and being reassured in our decision. But if you read it or listen to it again, one road isn't really less traveled. He says he " took the other, as just as fair," and " the passing there / Had worn them really about the same." So the narrator knew that both paths were comparable. And he just chose one of them, as it looked just as good as the other. The key though, is when he says: " I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence," meaning that one day in the future, he'll be recounting this moment in time. And what will he do then? He'll tell everyone: "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
Not Life Choices, But Story ChoicesSo this isn't really about making a difficult life choice; it's about how we concoct stories to make a narrative. How we perhaps look back at a situation and romanticize it a bit. Or infuse it with details that we didn't notice when it happened. Or embellish with larger figures or more expansive descriptions. Humans are natural storytellers. We have been since our earliest days, before our ancestors could speak or write. They told stories by painting on cave walls. And then around a fire, handed down from generation to generation. And finally in writing. Don't you think it's reasonable to believe there were embellishments and improvements along the way? Of course there were. I mean, who's going to want to read or listen to a poem about a guy who comes to two grassy paths and just picks one at random? So in that respect, yes, it's about choices. But it's about the choice to tell a story in a certain way. And each of us faces that every day as we choose to create our own narrative or a message for a brand or company. "We must take the current when it serves / Or lose our ventures"We need to choose which details are essential to include, and which are superfluous to the story and should be omitted. In doing so, we capture the imagination and attention of the people we're trying to reach, whether they're in a room with us or in front of a screen somewhere. The conditions in which we do this are ever-changing: platforms, moods, other priorities. And so elements of our narrative change accordingly. But always leading on to something better. The alternative is unthinkable. We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shadows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat;
And we must take the current when it serves
Or lose our ventures. — William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Act IV)
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Recently, we looked at Newton's Laws of Physics and their application to strategy.
Law 3 states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Every day, we're presented with scenarios that can invite a visceral reaction from us. A boss places an unreasonable deadline on an assignment. A colleague takes credit for your work. A family member doesn't do what they said they'd do.
In those situations, you have a choice. You can choose to be upset over what you perceive to be unfair – by those things that have already happened – or you can make a plan and determine a course of action.
"Day by day, what you choose, what you think and what you do is who you become." It depends on what you want to be known for and how you want to inspire others around you. Complaining about fairness invites a downward spiral of less fairness. Reacting positively to an unexpected series of events will develop strength and resilience. What do you want to be and what do you want to be known for? It's your choice.
Image credit: Heraclitus by Johannes Moreelse, public domain
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