We were in a pickle.
A debrief spouted out the dire news in slide after slide. Flagging sales. Frustrated customers. Poor product adoption.
A sense of exasperation filled the virtual meeting. I could sense steam rising from the foreheads of my colleagues, arrayed in small squares on my computer screen.
Everyone seemed perplexed as to why the status quo wasn’t working. But no one was willing to offer an alternative.
So, I did.
I recommended a new approach. One wholly focused on the most basic business concerns of our customers, and how our company – rather than its offerings – could help solve them.
There would be little mention of the details. We would hold product-specific specs in reserve until the customer requested them. We would deprioritize concerns about onboarding or data integrations when crafting our messaging.
Those were important issues, no doubt. But our company wouldn’t have the privilege of addressing them if the customers didn’t see the need for our services. And, in that regard, this broader messaging might cast a wider net.
Several people seemed uneasy with this suggestion. I could see them squirm a bit and glare at their webcams.
But no one outright told me no. So, I put my plan into action.
This didn’t quite work the way I hoped. And I found myself supporting a different business segment as a result.
It was a humbling experience. But I wasn’t disheartened.
For the essence of my original suggestions found new life with a new regime and a few refinements. And as I watched the relaunch from across the business, Version 2.0 started gaining momentum.
The business segment was no longer stuck in the mud. It was slowly, steadily making progress.
I might not have had the right answer. But I was on the right track.
I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.
This is perhaps the most famous quote from America’s most lauded inventor – Thomas Edison.
We can thank Edison for many modern staples, including video cameras, audio recording equipment, and – of course – the light bulb. But there were plenty of potential innovations that went bust in his lab as well.
Those duds might seem like footnotes. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
If Edison hasn’t experienced those failings, he likely wouldn’t have found such wild success. He would have gotten gun-shy, or proven unwilling to tinker and iterate.
Yes, even if he didn’t have the right answer, Edison was willing to explore the right track to find it. He didn’t let the twists and turns of that track distract him from the mission.
This spirit is sorely lacking today.
All too often, we aim to have the right answer before we open our mouths or lift our hands. We hesitate to make our move unless we have absolute certainty of success.
In a sense, this is understandable. No one wants to look foolish. And we strive not to be the person before the person behind the breakthrough, as I was.
But the right answer rarely grows on trees. Sometimes, it’s a Google search away. But most times it must be cultivated.
Committing to the right track gets us there, even if it doesn’t promise an immediate payoff. And the more we absolve ourselves of that dirty work, the fewer right answers we uncover.
Our knowledge base gets smaller. All while problems get bigger.
It’s a recipe for disaster.
We often say that Thomas Edison’s inventions changed the world.
They did. But not quite in the way we might think.
Take the light bulb. The filament encased in glass was a vast improvement over candles and gas lamps. It posed less of a fire hazard than those traditional lighting methods. And it could be turned on and off at will.
But it couldn’t become ubiquitous outside Edison’s lab without another innovation. Namely, a system to generate electricity and ferry it to the bulbs.
Edison turned his attention to building this system. And within a few years, his Direct Current (DC) utility system had been installed in multiple cities.
It was a crowning achievement for Edison. A paradigm shifting solution.
Or so he thought.
You see, DC wiring helped illuminate Edison’s perfect replacement for candles and gas lamps. But the DC system itself was far from perfect.
Its equipment was bulky and inefficient. And the required voltages proved devastatingly dangerous for anyone caught in the electric current.
A new solution – Alternative Current (AC) utilities – had none of these concerns. It was more adaptable than the DC system, and it didn’t require as high a voltage throughout the distribution chain.
The pioneers of the AC power distribution system in the United States were George Westinghouse and Nikola Tesla. Westinghouse was a rival to Edison, while Tesla was a former Edison employee.
Predictably, Edison fought relentlessly against the AC standard. The ensuing showdown for utility standard adoption because known as The War of the Currents. And it was riveting for a time.
But ultimately, AC power won out. It was more modern, more cost-efficient, and safer than DC power. It checked all the boxes to become the de-facto standard.
Edison was undoubtedly stung by this setback. He had sought to tie his legacy to his power generation exploits. But instead, he found it confined to the light bulb.
But Edison’s failure was not one of innovation. Rather, it was one of framing.
Edison was on the right track with the DC power system. It established the infrastructure that AC power could iterate upon.
But by declaring the right track to be the right answer, Edison closed the book prematurely. He limited his horizons, he capped his knowledge, and he abandoned his pursuit of the problem.
It was a costly mistake.
Which Edison do we want to be?
We all face this dilemma, no matter our level of innovativeness.
Do we want to be the tinkerer, the iterator who finds a yes through 10,000 nos? Or the authority who stands in front of yes like a stone wall.
That first option doesn’t sound too appealing. It requires patience and persistence, and it brings you face-to-face with rejection.
But make no mistake. The costs of the second option are far starker.
Yes, clinging to the right answer at all costs is a fool’s errand. One that can send us down the wrong path or keep us from pursuing the right one.
So, let’s change course.
Let’s open our minds. Let’s tap into our reservoirs of courage. And let’s commit to getting on the right track.
We won’t regret it.