Blank Slate Paralysis
Have you ever tried creating something from scratch? Whether it be cooking without a recipe, building without a blueprint, or creating a business with no experience. The freedom from rules and expectations is exciting if you have confidence and know-how, but the lack of direction is paralyzing if you don’t know what step one is, or even what the ultimate goal or measurement of success is.
I talk a fair bit about my time in college as President of my fraternity - and for good reason. It was eye-opening in many ways, one of those was the importance of history, tradition, and established processes within an institution. The temptation to do away with seemingly unnecessary routines or formalities; run events and meetings in a more “contemporary” manner; eschew the old way of doing things just because you don’t like them or don’t see their value. When you have the authority and ability to change how an entire organization is run, why not?
I resisted the temptation to revolutionize how my chapter was ran because I desperately relied on those old and traditional practices. Someone else already figured out when to run official meetings, how to take minutes, the order of operations (thank you Brigadier General Henry Robert for that one), and so many more things beyond that. Even our events calendar was heavily based upon previous years and decades of events. The names for many of our social events are traditional, even if not a serious affair. We host this event in September, this one in October, this one in March. This is what they need, this is how that turned out last year, this is the other org we collaborated with on it, this is how much it should cost, this is how many people we need to do it, etc. No need to buck tradition, only to adapt.
Every Fall semester, our fraternity HQ would send an advisor on a year-long trip to every chapter within his territory for recruitment and operational advice, staying a week at each campus. In 2019 I heard the most interesting piece of advice from one of those advisors: “Are you an organization with 100 years of experience, or an organization with a hundred individual years of experience?” What he meant was if we were actually learning from our past or simply forgetting it and having to fight the same fights year after year. How does one truly have 100 years of history? Through proper documentation, from start to finish; through a real practice of transitioning leadership positions from outgoing to incoming leaders; and through a proper observation that what you do in the present will likely echo throughout the years to come.
The toughest part of running any organization, or being in any position of authority, is when you have to create an entirely new process from scratch. Identifying a goal - whether it be increased sales, brand awareness, group buy-in to an activity, etc - then working backwards to create a way to accomplish that goal, then codifying it so the process becomes easier next time. It’s a difficult task to accomplish, especially if you find yourself thrust into the position of decision-making without expecting it.
I have often spoken of desiring to become a Jack of All Trades, someone who can do anything. I once heard a story of a man who was both a singer and a surgeon. He said he was always the best singer in the OR and the best surgeon in the choir, but never the best of either practice. It doesn’t take much practice to be better at a discipline than the majority of people. This seems to ring true to me, as I have somehow fallen into a career in marketing when I received my degree in history.
At multiple companies now, I was hired to originally do standard entry-level administrative work but was quickly given authority over marketing and advertising. The only reason I can imagine this is the case is because I have often worked for small, local businesses with limited staff. It would become apparent rather soon after starting that I was the most talented writer in the office, with an eye for optics and audience expectations. Did I plan on this happening? Not in the slightest. I obviously enjoy writing though, so I kept jumping at opportunities to do any amount of it.
I started picking up extra responsibilities at one company by just proofreading my boss’ emails that he would send to clients or business partners. I was rather shocked at his incredible success at owning his own business juxtaposed with the appalling manner in which he wrote. I was always taught that to be successful you had to learn how to write and communicate clearly, but I discovered rather abruptly that this simply was not the case at all. I was just raised by two Air Force public affairs professionals.
From proofreading simple emails, to writing entire company newsletters, to writing website copy, to creating social media ads, to my current position where I am daily creating new campaigns from scratch alongside the requisite copy and creative for a whole slew of different media. I found a weird niche of being the best writer in the office of small businesses, which for some reason means I’m the most qualified to direct and outline the brand new marketing plan from the ground up.
Am I the best writer at all? Absolutely not! I wrote historical papers on St. Patrick’s interactions with the old druids, and analyzed Beowulf for it’s melding of pagan expectations and Christian morals. I never once underwent any real study of marketing or corporate copywriting. However, the owners of the companies I have worked at all focused solely on their industry: finance, tech, insurance. It appears to me that you don’t need to be the best writer to be a valuable one.
Perhaps this is just the difference between a specialist and a generalist. I can’t tell you how a particular product or service would fit your niche need, but I can show you how your marketing strategies, sales pipeline, recruitment goals, office layout, and your current tech stack must all work together.
Right now at work I am in the middle of trying to create new processes and standard operating procedures for a department that I am standing up from nothing. I long for the days when I had old, traditional, pre-established standards, norms, procedures, calendars, and results to rely upon like I did in the fraternity.
It’s difficult to look at a blank canvas and be told to create whatever you think is best. That you are the expert in the room, or expert-adjacent. I’m establishing my own goals, my own key performance indicators, my own methods, my own means, and my own budget. Here’s what we should do, here’s how much it will cost, here’s what we should expect from it. I have people much more successful than me relying on my expertise. I don’t know how that happened, but I’m doing my best.
The best singer in the OR, the best surgeon in the choir. Sometimes that’s all you can ask to be.