I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
Shakespeare, Hamlet
We find ourselves in a mad rush to do innovation. We create innovation strategies, innovation processes, innovation jump-starts, innovation this and innovation that. We do things, as earnestly and energetically as we possibly can, and then we measure some stuff and decide that what we did was, or was not, a contributor to innovative output of this, or that. Then, we do it all over again, fingers crossed, all the while forgetting about the the single, most powerful, indispensable tool we have available to cause innovation: Stories.
From the time we first uttered an intelligible human syllable, we have known that stories, narratives, and tales are our primary means for both the creation and preservation of cultures, values, and ambitions. We have always known that without stories, without meaningful narratives that abide and live and breathe, our organizations, societies and governments grow sterile, lifeless and empty. Heraclitus, the great pre-Socratic, writing 2500 years ago knew that the achievement of great things starts with an idea, an ambition, a dream. He knew that great outcomes in any human undertaking require that you start from a place of believing in a story -- the story of ambition. "Big results require big ambitions," he said. And big stories.
Writing 2400 hundred years later, the great American Romantic poet Emerson told us that "fiction reveals truth that reality obscures." Of course. Our stories are our creations, and stories do not start out as "real." They start out as dreams, as fictions, as fantasy. They -- our stories -- are what we live inside of, and are our path to meaning, to belonging and to great actions. If innovation occurs as a result of culture (and it does), and culture is simply the sum of narratives (and it is), then innovation is directly descended from the stories we tell.
If innovation is about anything --whether you are talking about a Fortune 100 company, a country, an economic region or a non-profit -- it is about creating a future that does not exist in the present; it is about taking what is now intangible and rendering it tangible, taking the unseen and making it seen. Innovation is not here; it is there, in the future. Essentially, innovation is taking what is not true in the present and making it the true in the future. The Roman Tenth Legion was not born to greatness; Caesar created the greatness of the Tenth Legion through the narrative he created about them. Likewise, companies are not born to innovation, countries are not by nature innovative, and economic regions don't just become innovative by pumping resources into them. They can only be created, 0r re-created, as innovative inside of an innovation narrative.
We have always known this to be true and you can see it in our many incomplete attempts to address narrative in organizations. Consider the "Vision Statement," the arch enemy of all pragmatists. We are perfectly willing to expend enormous energy and time and resources creating a statement of intent or belief or hope around which we think our organizations can rally. We create it, then we sanctify it and then we share it, hoping that a few dozens of words can tell a powerful story. But a vision statement is not a narrative -- it is static and at the very moment it is created and shared it begins to lose its truth. At best it is a sign-post, a guide of sorts. But in and of itself, it has no life, because it is not narration. A vision statement of innovation is not the same thing as an active, living, breathing, constantly told story of innovation. If we want vision in our organizations we must be visionary in our stories, not our slogans.
Plato told us that "those who tell the stories rule society." Play with his words just a bit and you get: "Those who tell stories of innovation create innovative societies." Of course you need the tools and resources and assets of innovation to create innovation. But nothing really innovative happens until the stuff of organizations begins to operate inside of authentic narrative. Capital, people and technologies are just balance sheet items, outside of the context of an innovation story. Narrative -- real, authentic and aligned narrative -- calls resources into action against ambition.
Jean-Luc Godard, the great film director, said this: "Sometimes reality is too complex. Stories give it form." Those who are attempting to lead complex organizations or cultures and to create innovative solutions to complex problems would do well to reflect on this. We live in an increasingly complex world, and we work toward supplying increasingly complex needs, with increasingly complex tools. If we dwell in the complexity -- as individuals or organizations -- we risk losing our bearings. But if we live and work inside of a comprehensible, meaningful story, we will contextualize the complexity around us. Our stories will give form to our world and create the cardinal points we need.
Ask yourself these questions off and on during the day: "Am I narrating a tale of innovation in my community, in my organization? Do I authentically believe the tales I am telling? And is my story, my personal narrative about the community in which I reside, one that is consistent with my actions?" If you get a "no" answer to any of these, the only tool you will need to find out what is hindering innovation in your organization is a mirror.
