Ideas looking for problems.
How can we know how to solve the problem without getting the assignment? We can’t, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t be ready when it comes. The most adept problem-solvers—whether designers, architects, or surgeons—work within a methodology that ensures they are ready when duty calls. Problem-solving is somewhat of a rote process for most—putting one foot in front of the other as we march toward a solution. We are disciplined to afford time defining the problem—sometimes completely redefining the assignment. We conduct interviews and analysis, scan the horizon, and mechanically attempt to organize the criteria into a solvable task. All of this is standard operating procedure for idea-makers. It’s the necessary prep to give us the best chance at solving the problem. It’s the mental and physical noodling around that is required to uncover our options. We sketch random images with one eye on the brief and the other in the clouds. We dredge our minds looking for associations and scenarios that are beyond the obvious. This is the hardest part of problem-solving for many of us—a mental flossing of sort. All compounded by the reoccurring fret that we just had our last good idea. Truth be told, it’s easy to find yourself ill-prepared on any given day.
What if—instead of waiting for problems to charge us to think about possibilities—we think about possibilities without problems? What if we start to use our off-job time to build and furnish a trove of half-baked ideas—sort of a garage of parts waiting for a car to fix? Regular sketching and note-taking serve to unlock our static and stayed view of reality. When there is no criteria, no goal, the mind and hand are free to meander into places otherwise restricted. The net effect of repeatedly ‘going off campus’ is that we develop a habit of turning over rocks and truly looking at things differently. The comedian Steven Wright is famous for reminding us how narrow our everyday view of things can get. He paints the most absurd pictures with the fewest words. Phrases like “A lot of people are afraid of heights. Not me, I’m afraid of widths.” In a few short words, he turns our lens on its side and reveals a brand new way of looking at things. Likewise, a single sketch can often quell our fears and unlock an entirely new way of framing the discussion. Drawing is thinking.
I’m not suggesting that we collect pre-made solutions and then shoehorn them into problems. I’m advocating training our brain to be in shape by challenging it like the other muscles in our body. It’s like the combination of training for a marathon and a SWAT team. We are training for both endurance and the unforeseen surprises just around the corner. (Think illustration for the NYTimes Op/Ed due the next day.) With regular and long-term training, we are able to address a problem with both stamina and chops—the ability to think on our feet with a more agile and experienced brain. Combining pure work experience and a cache of observations—like sketchbooks and notes to self—we arrive armed with a well-traveled awareness. We are more able and likely to create fresh ideas because we have better skills at recognizing and making visual non-sequiturs. Suddenly a robust repository of random associations and connections are only six degrees from the answer to the problem.
Sketchbook entry 2005
“A lot of people are afraid of heights. Not me, I’m afraid of widths.”
—Steven Wright