If insight into new and better ways of designing and delivering products, services and affecting societal change is the holy grail for research, then creative thinking and angling for a new perspective is the needle on the compass that will lead us there.

I’ve just finished reading Jonah Lehrer’s ‘Imagine: the science of creativity’ and I am going to go out and start reading his other books as soon as I can.

In his consideration of the creative processes of writers and musicians such as Philip K. Dick, Bob Dylan through to the success of organisations such as Toy Story-famed Pixar and Post-it giant 3M – Lehrer distills the conditions under which creative thinking, innovation and new ideas flourish. He also considers the societal conditions that gave rise to Shakespeare and the conditions under which we can create ‘excess genius’.

It starts out hard: we have to fail first. According to Lehrer, if you think you have the answer, you probably don’t. Maybe you do, but it might not be the most innovative or insightful. Using many examples repeated throughout his book, Lehrer shows that the most creative ideas and solutions come after we’ve hit the wall. Expecting and accepting failure is a good thing because failure leads to breakthrough thinking. The trick is to fail hard, fast.

Take a risk, consider something irrelevant. A relaxed trouble-free mind that has time to ponder and explore previously unconsidered connections is step two. Our best ideas come to us when we’re not focused on them - for example, when having a warm shower. In the workplace, Lehrer cites the success of the ’bootlegging hour’ or the ’15% rule’ where researchers are encouraged to speculate new ideas.

Have a coffee and focus on that insight. Creative thinking isn’t just about epiphany, it’s about concentration and hard work to make that insight real. It’s about analysis and interrogation – it’s about tracking that hunch and proving it. It’s about being critical and tough with ideas – only the best ones will stick, and we can’t get precious about this if we’re truly after the best.

Weak connections, unanticipated collisions and sharing knowledge across fields is where ideas come to action – it’s where the return on all those hot showers and caffeine-fuelled hours spent at the computer can really take flight (the success of the ‘bootlegging hour’ is in that employees must share their ideas across the organisation). Lehrer looks at the importance of ‘outsider thinking’ and the ability of the new, different (and young) to look at things from a fresh perspective. He talks about the ideas-generation predictors of population density (Lehrer says that ‘cities with unusually fast pedestrians create more new ideas’) migration, ad hoc gatherings and the ability to share ideas within industries without penalty – all these conditions are said to give rise to creative places like Silicon Valley.

Finally, Lehrer considers the value placed on creativity within our education systems and in respect to monetary rewards. He makes the point that if we can turn-out prize-winning athletes by formula, then the same is possible for our thinkers, innovators and artists. As a society ‘we have to make it easy to become a genius’.

In this post (which I warn you, is more a plea) I’d like to share two dreamed-up diagrams as I try to explain that research value does not equate to total number of words written or slides delivered. Value is in meaning communicated. Value is making a client’s job easier. Value is in action taken.

The main reason I can’t get to the ‘value’ is that I am drowning in data. I have limited time, as do my internal clients, my calendar is riddled with meeting-cancer and my telephone is so over-worked that the cord connecting it has almost worn away with twisting and lifting the receiver. As such, when I sit down to read a report (in time that I pre-book so as to preserve it) my heart tends to sink when I print it and realise it’s over 100 pages long.

Why is it impossible to get value from a 100 page report?
Let’s first consider diagram 1.

As demonstrated by this graph, the law of diminishing returns applies. Initially, the number of report pages read increases the insight gained and retained. However, when this reaches its peak (which, depending on the nature of the project would be an optimal 30 pages or so, at least for me) there is a steady decline in insights gained and retained.

The main reason I can’t get value from an 100 page report is the fact that I can’t easily see what action is to be taken. If I can get past time pressures and go on the journey of reading the 100 page report, I tend to get lost in the information and start to ask myself whether or not I am simply reading raw data tables, or transcripts of interviews – and then I get to thinking: Where’s the point in all of this?

I must acknowledge that there are often very good executive summaries written. Please note that an executive summary should not exceed more than a few pages.

I commission research because I believe that research will result in better products, services and community outcomes. I don’t commission researchers to compile data and transcripts into door-stopping reports because I like sitting at a desk that’s become a fortress of paper. I commission research because I am seeking insight, new angles, and that unanticipated edge that comes from considering things in more depth.

On this point, please see diagram 2.

The point of this diagram is that data and customer information is freely available, and often, incredibly high-vis. I see it everyday. I see too much of it, in a lot of cases. The purpose of research, for me, is to go deeper – consider this information and perhaps augment it (through surveys, focus groups, ethnography). The purpose of research is to dig for insight. This is the gold I’m after. This is what we’re betting on the research process delivering.

Unfortunately, the reports I read are heavily focused on the first two sections of the iceberg. Reports that provide detailed description of data and research process are not insightful. I don’t want you to dunk me in it, I don’t want to feel like I need to ’research’ the research report in order to reach the depth of insight - it’s up to the researcher, like a sea-diving information archaeologist to explore and to return with treasure we can both bask in.

The final point I’d like to make is that of prioritising information. If you’re not sure what to leave in, and what to take out, please return to the research questions and objectives. If the pages you’re writing don’t directly hark back to these then they’re likely to be surplus. In addition, it is often easier to start with something shorter and then decide, with your client, where further exploration might be needed or of interest.

Reports that get to the point, that present insights directly related to the research question are extremely valuable. The reason for this is that they have distilled information to the very essence of the issue at hand and enable the reader to easily access this. It’s only when research reports are easily read and re-read that the insight retained can be turned into the most important research output – action.

Research and researchers often face cynicism about what we do and why we do it -  the degree to which may vary, and with the difference being in how we respond to it. Perceiving cynicism as a negative shuts research down; perceiving cynicism as a healthy reality means we can use it to our advantage. And why shouldn’t we permit cynicism? After all, it is with a critical mind that we approach research - surely we can’t just expect our clients to accept what we do without asking after the importance of undertaking it? Regardless of whether we think it’s healthy or not – it’s real, and will remain.

Oscar Wilde described cynics as those who “know the price of everything and the value of nothing.”

I think the solution to cynicism lies in this. Researchers need to get smart(er) about demonstrating value. Clients know that research costs. Both time and money. It requires emotional investments of hope (for a useful outcome, that the time and money will be “worth it”) and faith (that the researcher knows what they’re doing and what they’re talking about). Often, we speak of research “return on investment”, about how it “adds value” and “makes a difference” - yet more often that not, we fail to make the connection between the work we do and the impact it has for our clients, their business and their customers. The pivotal point is that this ”difference” lies in the decisions made by the client – do they act on the research, or do they simply file the report and vow to remain cynical.

Research that leads to action is, of course, the holy grail for researchers (action-inspiring research being another, longer blog-post) – but how often do we follow up with our clients, ask what actions have been taken? At the end of a project the door too often closes too quickly and for too long. Some may consider it impolite to call and ask after actions - but by not asking, are we not missing out on our own most valuable customer insight? Should we not seek to understand degrees and lasting satisfaction (or not) with our product? I plan on asking more often. In the act of asking we can both learn and also build a client’s appreciation for what they did* do with the research. In this way, follow-up contact can act as a reminder as to the value of their original investment months afterward. It’s a patch against future cynicism.

*I assume, for the purposes of this post, that action is taken. Action might include a deliberate not taking of action, or simply acts of maintenance. If none of these apply, I think researchers need to be clear as to why the research remained inert. We shouldn’t shy away from understanding and addressing this.

Cynicism can be a positive and powerful opportunity for changing the way clients perceive research – in my experience, it’s often those who are most cynical about research in the first instance, once convinced of its value, who become research’s most powerful advocates.

In the last month or so there have been a number of articles in the various magazines and blogs I read suggesting we abandon brainstorming. The New Yorker suggests that brainstorming doesn’t really work. Alongside this, there are books like The Power of Introverts that celebrate the innovation that comes from time spent thinking on our own.

Researchers spend a lot of time working in silence and if I’m honest – isolation and quiet often helps me to focus. Yet – as researchers – we’re all about conversation – we’re about dialogue with residents, businesses and consumers – we are translators of information from respondents to clients and so communication, group communication and collaboration must happen.

So, how do we harness the conversation of others, distilled through quiet consideration, and work together for the best client outcomes? Often, we brainstorm.

But according to these articles and the scientific studies they cite, brainstorming produces less ideas, and less creative ones. Still, I’d like to defend the brainstorm – with a few adjustments:

1. Pre-work: Osborn promotes spontaneity, but he also promotes thinking about the issue in advance. A briefing and an outline of the topic should be circulated.  The complexity of problems to be solved, and knowing what I know about being an introverted researcher, suggest to me that thinking beforehand, analysing and collating existing information seems an obviously good idea.  

2. Critical appraisal: Osborn encourages deferred judgement. Studies on brainstorming-effectiveness (e.g. Diehl and Stroebe) suggest that at the risk of causing offense participants should actively interrogate ideas. My most productive (and rewarding) brainstorming experiences are those that turn from ideas generation into passionate debate, and where one idea builds and improves on another.    

3. Impose a time-limit: Apparently brainstorming gives the illusion of productivity. So, stop at some point. Make it productive by sticking to schedule.  

4. Quality of brains involved: Intuitively this makes sense – the better the thinkers, the better the ideas (under the right conditions) to be generated. Researchers, who spend much of their time exposed to and immersed in data – be it conversations with consumers or data tables – are surely in the best position to maximise the benefits of brainstorming.

Let’s not give up on the brainstorm, let’s just do it differently.

This evening I turned down after work drinks to listen-in on telephone interviews for a survey we’re running. I used to do this all the time, and tonight I remembered why -

1. Listening-in reminded me of how easily we become removed from our customers by field processes. Obviously this is more true of quantitative methods, but it also holds true for me (as a client) who often sits in a darkened room watching groups through a one-way mirror. I’ve spent hours pouring over data and diligently noting language-use by group participants – this evening I got closer, I heard so much more than if I’d considered a row of respondent data and coded verbatim.

2. Listening-in reminded me of why I miss telephone surveys. Online surveys have seduced me, and for good reasons. They’re quick, cheap and convenient (for both client and respondent) but you can’t observe someone filling out an online survey (not yet). With online surveys you can’t hear the comments made in-between questions, the household surroundings, the thought-processes and reasoning vocalised – the tone changes, the pauses and the feeling behind what is recorded as ‘the answer’.

3. Listening-in reminded me of how we must always focus on doing research ‘with’ people, not ‘to’ people. I spent a lot of time on this questionnaire – turns out some of it was repetitive, and some of it was annoying – we’ve changed these things, reducing ‘read outs’ and the like, again, this is something you can’t avoid when you hear a respondent sigh on the other end of the phone.

4. Listening-in reminded me of how special research can be. Research is about customers being heard. For me, it’s about people being able to shape the communities they live in. Hearing the value customers place on our services, on our contact with them – and hearing their desire for improvement in a way that is considerate of the ‘challenges’ we face reminded me of how research can engage and empower respondents. I hope to always work on projects like this. Better choice, products and services for consumers and better communities for us all to live in. Research is about having a say and being heard.

5. Listening-in reminded me of how valuable good field interviewers are. If they weren’t interviewing for my survey I would suggest that they consider careers in broadcasting. Aside from being articulate, good interviewers are facilitators – and they listen more than they administer. Better than this, they are patient and they care what the respondent has to say.

6. Listening-in reminded me of how important qualitative research is. Context is king. My numbers need words, stories and personal accounts – perhaps more than the other way round.

Sometimes I ask myself: How did I end up being a researcher? How did I end up looking forward to learning about new household time-use trends, how did I become so concerned about when the next census would be held? People have kindly worried about me. But I can’t imagine not doing it. Research is a way of life: when I’m not at work, when I am at home, hanging with friends, or working on my writing – I’m still researching. I’m asking questions, I’m always enthusiastic about the prospect of answers. Answers are like gold. New, unexpected questions are like diamonds.

Herodotus is at least in part to blame for this habit.

Popularly referred to as ‘the Father of History’ and less positively as ‘the Father of Lies’ he is also considered one of the first true anthropologists – his work The Histories is an exceptional ethnographic work. An outsider through exile – his vast knowledge and writings were a direct threat to the tyrants of the time. Clearly, his extensive travel meant he spent a lot of time talking with people about their daily lives and the stories they told about the things they valued most.

The Histories is certainly part research report, part bed-time story. The combination is lasting, and packs punch even from its opening sentence -

Herodotus of Halicarnassus here displays his inquiry, so that human achievements may not become forgotten in time, and great and marvellous deeds – some displayed by Greeks, some by barbarians – may not be without their glory; and especially to show why the two peoples fought with each other.

How could I resist?