The Single Best Thing I’ve Ever Heard About Ideation and Brainstorming
Cate McGehee Aug 30 2017
Something my grad school professor said changed the way I’ve thought about brainstorming forever. Now it’s the best thing I can tell anyone else.
There are dozens of ways you can get a room going and pan the gold from a group’s brainstorm. There are hundreds of blog posts out there that list techniques for generating and vetting ideas. This isn’t one of them.
Instead, this post is about one idea. It’s not an exercise, but a framework. And it combines two of my favorite things (metaphors and graphs) for one unforgettable notion that has framed the way I approach ideating ever since. And it might change your process, too, maybe more than any of those listicles can.
Ideation and Brainstorming: An Illustrative Story
Once, in a graduate class in the University of Washington’s Human Centered Design and Engineering program, the professor asked the class what we could do with a piece of string and a coin with a hole in the middle. He threw an image up on the projector:
“So, what can you do with this coin and a piece of string?”
Silence. No one really knew what he meant. No one wanted to ask and look silly.
“I’m serious, what can you do with these?”
One student raised his hand.
“Make a necklace,” he ventured.
“Excellent. What else?”
Another student: “You could use it to level a table.”
“Excellent. What else?”
There was a pause, and the professor suggested, “Maybe you could use it to make a tiny swing for a mouse.”
The class was emboldened. People started suggesting more ideas, nervous at first but then with gusto. Some ideas were good. Some were lame and poorly wrought. Others, ridiculous but somehow clever.
“You could use it to hypnotize someone”
“Fish a magnet out of the gutter.”
“Create a scale that can only measure whether or not an object weighs more or less than the coin.”
“Make a lasso.”
“Or a noose.”
After a while, the suggestions died down. The students searched their minds for more to contribute, but the room fell silent.
“Nothing else?” the professor asked. No one spoke.
“What we just did was an exercise I use to illustrate how brainstorming works,” he said. “Most people think they know how it works, because it’s a term we’ve used since we were children, but I don’t think most people realize that brainstorming follows a bell curve.”
He drew a basic bell curve on the whiteboard and labeled its axes:
“Almost any ideation session follows this pattern,” he continued. “The x-axis is how long you spend ideating. The y-axis is how many ideas you come up with.
“At first, people are quiet,” he continued. “They’re afraid to get the answer wrong or look dumb. The first idea always takes the longest to be said—you can see how gentle the slope is at the beginning of the curve. But once someone says the first idea, others follow, and in increasingly rapid succession.”
He annotated his bell curve:
“After this period of ramping up, people begin a kind of frenzy. This is when the most ideas are generated, and it is the result of people finally feeling comfortable to truly say anything.”
“Do you remember what happened in our brainstorm just now, about the coin and the piece of string? Do you remember when I suggested the swing for the mouse? It wasn’t the best idea. It wasn’t even a very good idea, and the ideas you came up with beforehand were probably better. But I knew if I threw something absurd out there, you all would feel more comfortable getting a little absurd yourselves.
“It’s not the best idea that encourages the room to speak, it’s the silliest, the craziest, the most impossible or even the dumbest. That’s why we say there are no bad ideas. Because once you have your first ‘bad’ idea, you enter the peak of the brainstorm.”
He added again to the whiteboard:
“So what happens next?” the professor continued.
“The ideas slow down. Just as it gets progressively easier to think of ideas in the beginning, it gets progressively harder to think of more after you’ve reached the peak. Nothing lasts forever, including brainstorms. If you try to keep forcing new ideation after the brainstorm has run its course, you’ll reap diminishing returns.”
He drew a final note on the whiteboard:
And then he dropped the metaphor:
“There’s a reason people call it ‘popcorn-style’ when a group of folks shout out ideas willy nilly. When you microwave a bag of popcorn, you have to wait in silence for the first few kernels to explode, and then the whole bag erupts. In the end, the pops become fewer and fewer, and you have to remove it from the microwave before you ruin the batch.”
I’d never heard that before, and I haven’t forgotten it since. Now, the most important thing I know about ideation is that you need to keep going until it’s really over. Too many people stop ideating before the brainstorm is actually complete and they miss the peak of it entirely. The brainstorm isn’t over when you have one good idea, it’s over when you can’t think of any more ideas at all.
If you’re coming up with ideas in a marketing meeting, the same principle applies. Don’t stop ideating after the first few ideas, and keep pushing until ideas come rapidly. And don’t stop until you’re really done.
And finally, if you’re trying to facilitate a brainstorm, you might have to swallow your pride and suggest something as absurd as a mouse on a swing.
If you want more than just a story and a single piece of advice, however, I recommend Portent’s newest ebook, Plug and Play Content Strategy. Author Augustin Kendall offers many exercises for ideation, vetting, and prioritization that will take you a lot farther than the end of your bell curve:
Cate worked in publishing and book publicity before moving to agency marketing. Since then, she's done media planning for the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee at a leading ad agency in Washington, D.C., led hundreds of content campaigns for an SMB digital marketing agency in Seattle, and worked on the content strategy and execution of in-house enterprise teams. She's a graduate of the Human Centered Design and Engineering certificate program at the University of Washington, and loves finding the intersections of content marketing and user experience here at Portent. In her free time, she's a freelance arts and culture writer with the Seattle Weekly as well as other publications locally and nationally. Read More