The Brainstorming Handbook

By: Interview with Burkey Belser |  9/2000

How do you define creativity?

For me, creativity is metaphor, the coupling of unexpected ideas, whether intellectual or artistic; i.e., film stock and confetti can merge to celebrate filmmaking. That's an intellectual idea. When the texture of chalk resembles pavement, that's an artistic idea.

What do you feel is the biggest block to your creativity?

The lack of information about the client and their goals.  In fact, I believe this is the ONLY block to creativity.  With insufficient information, a designer can wander around in the desert forever. Rain may fall, flowers may bloom, but the bloom will never be the right flower without the right information. Of course, an individual can be stupid, in shock or a coma but short of those tragedies, creativity is available to everyone equally.

How do you overcome that block?

Stop. Put down my pen. Call the client and admit I failed to ask the right questions. We start over.

What piece of advice would you give to a fellow designer planning a brainstorming session?

We have a rigorous program for creative sessions in order get meetings started on time and move them along quickly:

The Account Executive defines the scope of the work and brings a copy of the budget with rough deadlines.

The copywriter brings a summary of client interview notes and a deliberately half-finished copy of our own peculiar creative brief. The half that's finished tells us who we are selling to, selling against, what the product or service will do for the user and how its benefits are defined. The part that's unfinished is left for the creative session to explore—market drivers and the brand promise (unless this information is still relevant from an earlier creative.) The copywriter also brings a Roget's Thesaurus and a dictionary.

The designer brings creative annuals and sets up an Internet connection. (I should explain.  We are very careful in our use of annuals and the internet, which can be dangerous. We use annuals to lift up the caliber of creative exploration quickly.  I discourage page turning—just open the annual and generally let it sit. I'm not at all embarrassed by this because we are required to note inspirations [volume, page number] to prevent copying. Furthermore, following Arnold Saks demand of his studio, everything that comes out of our shop must be somehow new.   I have told our staff if you believe annuals are the source of the new, think again. The ideas are at least three years old by the time the annual arrives on your doorstep. Nevertheless, the use of annuals gets us quickly past the chessboard, knight and headline that reads, "It's your move!"

Everyone must bring substrate (legal pad, paper, tissue) and drawing implements (pen, pencil, crayons, markers, etc.

We outlaw some ideas: the aforementioned chessboard, globes and disembodied hands.  Anyone can bring these outlaws in if they have a remarkable solution that lifts the hackneyed idea into an entirely new class.

Brainstorming Alone?

I have lists that I use to quickly generate new ideas. For example, changing the shape of an image changes everything.  Using the panorama feature of a camera sets up an entirely new way of looking at the familiar—from landscapes to portraits, everything is suddenly fresh and exciting.  Take lots of pictures. Follow the old but respectable high reject-to- usable National Geographic ratio. Be sloppy with your images. Dance with the camera. Turn your experiments into print.

Brainstorming with Groups?

A minimum of two and a maximum of seven. More than that and the creative session becomes a retreat requiring a facilitator.

Same duties. The Account Executive defines the scope of the work and brings a copy of the budget with rough deadlines. The copywriter brings client interview notes and a half-finished copy of the  creative brief. The designer brings creative sources and sets up an internet connection. Paper and pencils.  The only one with a computer is the AE with a laptop.

Okay, go! Finish the creative brief. Start tossing around ideas. Find some acceptable ideas within the envelope. Be silly. Our creative sessions don't start until we get silly, which usually begins with my admonition, "Okay, walk like a duck."

So, tell us about the results.

For years, we've created ads and other materials for a law firm in North Carolina.  During that time, a bulldog has emerged as a symbol for the firm.  He's gained a name, "Winston," after Winston-Salem and, of course, Winston Churchill.  You'd think that was silly enough but, even so, our creative meeting for the new firm brochure began earnestly—always the death knell to great creative. Finally, after being stuck in our earnest mode, I insisted we get silly. Perhaps this is the signal—or permission—to be creative. Shortly thereafter, we were telling the tale of the firm's legal services through Winston's eyes.  We even put a "Winston-cam" on the bulldog.  All the photographs of business scenes take place under the table, not on its surface, from a dog's-eye view. Great brochure from a unique point of view! Now Winston is computer-animated in his commercials in elevators and online. Always breaking new ground in the field, we have a great client (Womble Carlyle and its missionaries, Mark Whitley and Paula Blanchat) but also a great guru in Diane Hartley who pushes us and everyone involved beyond our comfort zone. Now, everyone in the firm recognizes there is no going back. There are only unexplored roads going forward.

Talk to us about brainstorming with non-creatives

It is remarkably arrogant to think there are "non-creatives." Some of us are trained as creatives and some not, but everyone can draw from the inexhaustible well of creativity. Getting a large group to "be creative" poses the special challenge of managing a more complex dynamic, but even the smallest group can fail unless groundrules are laid for the creative meeting.

We use the writings of Edward DeBono to guide our creative sessions and everyone in the studio is familiar with his "six hats" theory. (DeBono has written many books, but one of the easiest is Teach Your Child to Be Creative.) The theory is simple and the rudiments can be taught in less than five minutes:

"Let's all wear our green hats now.  Green is the color of growth. Let's generate as many ideas as we can. No black hats. Black hats critique ideas.  We'll need the black hats later to help decide which of our ideas will work, but no black hats now, okay?"

See how easy it is? Immediately even a large group is brought under control. Black hats are the most trouble and, with this idea, quickly neutralized for now—but ready to be used later. There are white hats (information gathering), red hats (emotion, no reason necessary), yellow hats (why this idea will work, sunnyside up, the opposite of black), blue hats (summarizing where we are now and where we should go next).

Within a short time, we had dozens of ideas for a new name for the organization, including some very wacky ones.  When we used the six hats theory to narrow down the ideas, the group felt satisfied we'd come to the right conclusion.  What could have been a nasty meeting run by the most vocal members became a delightful meeting with everyone participating.

Creativity—real, professional creativity—is not loosey-goosey or willy-wonky. It is a solid discipline that can be remarkably efficient or remarkably sloppy. Even the best shops will be sloppy.  But this century’s Leonardo of graphic design, Milton Glaser, said, even the worst 60 percent of work from the best shops is better than the best 20 percent from the worst.