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Oh, California.

There's nothing like a trip to California to cause a refinement and readjustment of my beliefs and values.

Last weekend provided an opportunity to ask 28 other Vistage chairs to challenge gaps between my beliefs and my behaviors.

One of those gaps: spending too much time online, especially during the evenings. It's costing me incremental depth in my relationships here at home. So the computer has to be turned off at dinnertime.

But, wait. I'm online at night because I have real online work to do. And I have online work to do at night, because I am working out of the home all day.

Push has come to shove.
Something has to give. So I decided to trim my workday work load.

Right now. Before I change my mind.

So I have just quit a beloved teaching assignment.
This week, I asked Ohio State to remove me from the lineup starting in the autumn. That gives me one more academic quarter to try to get it right. (And, ethically, there are already students enrolled. I don't want to disappoint them.)

I told my current students about my decision. There was some argument that I should continue. But, mainly, we all agreed that I preach about (in the words of Pink Floyd) "exchanging cold comfort for change," so I should move on.

The Immediate Challenge
I cannot slow down — even on the job I've just quit.

Here's a note to the students:

To a Most Memorable Class Of Students:

Someday you will quit your job, like I have with Ohio State. (If you have missed a few classes, I've asked Ohio State to leave me out of the teaching lineup starting in the autumn. Maybe it's a final quitting. Maybe it's a few years off. I don't know.) 

If you have already quit a meaningful job, you know this: there's nothing like the old job.

By that, I mean: once you have quit a job, you are suddenly tempted to work less hard at it, preferring to coast toward the finish line. Your attention and passion are naturally drawn toward what's coming: the next job.

As a teacher, I need to serve as a role model on this issue. So I am committed to striving all the way through to the finish line. I will double my effort. I will double my accessibility. (Let me know if you want to meet with me during specially scheduled "office" hours.) I will work harder.

One Ball Dropped
I have loved, loved, loved teaching creativity at Ohio State. I have felt like the Liberal Arts Department of the Business School. 

I have thought that, in a world that teaches people how to be computers, I can be someone teaching them to be human. Pretty preposterous stuff. Ambitious. Somewhat successful, according to more than a few students.

Still, I can't juggle as many balls, because some of the balls are becoming heavier and taking on a more golden hue. So I had to put this ball down.

 

Psst. Wanna hear some lectures on marketing?

For the first time, after two decades of teaching, I believe I just might have reached the level of competence.

And you are invited.

Tomorrow, January 23rd, at 6:45 p.m., I return to CCAD for the first of a dozen weekly lectures on consumer behavior.

Come. This is your invitation.

There are 100 students registered for the class and it will be taught in a big, comfortable auditorium, so you can just blend in. Each class is only 75 minutes. You could come to this first Monday, any Monday, or every Monday.

Don't be shy. I would love to have you there.

(About a dozen folks accept this invitation each semester. They just show up. Nice!)

Let me know if you are coming, and I will send you a map to the specific location. Or just download the syllabus and come.

Ye Olde Rut
I taught this course for years, years ago at CCAD. As one student wrote:

“The course was high-energy, optimistic, full of humor and most importantly: informative. It was one of the few courses that just about everyone who took it not only looked forward to the next lesson, but recommended it to their colleagues as well.”

But, I left after hearing this thought about teaching:

If you are teaching the same thing the same way for more than five years, then you lack either ambition or imagination.

(I think this might have come from Noam Chomsky.)

I was indeed stuck in a rut.

The students were generous and appreciative. But I was teaching the same thing, in the same way, year after year. The presentation slides were so ready, I would just show up and let 'em rip.

So it was time to go away.

The Course Is Sound
Over time, I'd designed — and now redesigned — the course to help artists:

• Make work that is more than beautiful. The course helps the artist think through the work, so it persuades others and changes behavior.
• Justify each piece of work as more than beautiful. The course helps the artist describe work to executives in the workplace, to win more production budget for, say, the photography.
• Live a fuller life. We must live for more than our art. We can live creatively and ethically. So: let's!

The legendary CCAD education — especially its intensive first year, "Foundation" — expertly develops each artist's technical skills.

But having hired dozens of CCAD graduates at Young Isaac, I have seen too many who are riding solely on their technical proficiency. They do have highly developed hands and eyes — but aren't always levering their minds.

That's where this class comes in.

Bridging The Gap
After years of helping CCAD artists win the favor of businesspeople in the workplace, I've been teaching MBA candidates about creativity. This has me building the same bridge — over the creative gap — from the other side.

Now, with my MBA experiences, I'm really enjoying working with the artists at CCAD.

And you. Coming?

Welcome to the Creativity Students

Doug Dangler is the coordinator for the Writing Center and the digital media specialist for The Ohio State University's Center for the Study and Teaching of Writing.

He recently asked me, "What do you wish all your students knew about your course — before they arrive for the first class?"

Here's what. 
Here is a video that Doug made to welcome my students to the first day of class.

 

Psst. Wanna hear some lectures on marketing?

Tonight at 6:45 p.m., I return to CCAD for the first of a dozen weekly lectures on consumer behavior.

Come. This is your invitation.

There are 100 students registered for the class and it will be taught in a big, comfortable auditorium, so you can just blend in. Each class is only 75 minutes. You could come tonight, any Monday, or every Monday.

Don't be shy. I would love to have you there.

(Usually there are about a dozen Net Cotton Content readers who attend. Nice!)

Let me know if you are coming, and I will send you a map to the specific location.

Ye Olde Rut
I taught this course for years, years ago at CCAD. As one student wrote:

“The course was high-energy, optimistic, full of humor and most importantly: informative. It was one of the few courses that just about everyone who took it not only looked forward to the next lesson, but recommended it to their colleagues as well.”

But, I left after hearing this thought about teaching:

If you are teaching the same thing the same way for more than five years, then you lack either ambition or imagination.

(I think this might have come from Noam Chomsky.)

I was indeed stuck in a rut.

The students were generous and appreciative. But I was teaching the same thing, in the same way, year after year. The PowerPoint slides were so ready, I would just show up and let 'em rip.

So it was time to go away.

The Course Is Sound
Over time, I'd designed the course to help artists:

• Make work that is more than beautiful. The course helps the artist think through the work, so it persuades others and changes behavior.
• Justify each piece of work as more than beautiful. The course helps the artist describe work to executives in the workplace, to win more production budget for, say, the photography.

The legendary CCAD education — especially its intensive first year, "Foundation" — expertly develops each artist's technical skills.

But having hired dozens of CCAD graduates at Young Isaac, I have seen too many who are riding solely on their technical proficiency. They do have highly developed hands and eyes — but aren't always levering their minds.

That's where this class comes in.

Bridging The Gap
After years of helping CCAD artists win the favor of businesspeople in the workplace, I've been teaching MBA candidates about creativity. This has me building the same bridge — over the creative gap — from the other side.

Now, with my MBA experiences, I'm really enjoying re-meeting the artists at CCAD.

And you. Coming?

Teaching Creativity at Ohio State

I am so glad to be teaching another section of my course on creativity, starting on September 22nd at The Ohio State University's Fisher College of Business.

Personal Creativity and Innovation (BUS-MHR 390)
With the guidance of Michael Camp, I've taken the best of more than a decade of creativity teaching experience and have revised this course further still. (The former students are a great source of continuous improvement for this course.)

If you're an OSU undergraduate business student — or in another college and interested in this course — here is an overview:

Personal Creativity and Innovation (BUS-MHR 390) explores how people, places and practices foster human creativity. Students discuss: What is creativity? How can I become more creative? How can we lead others to greater creativity? Readings include academic, management, spiritual, confessional, and self-development literature on creativity, productivity, happiness and the optimal experience. Assignments include private daily writings and self-assessments of personal creativity. In order to become more creative, students must be willing to look within themselves and share what they find.

A teacher of artists and MBAs, children and adults, Artie bridges the gap between right and left brains in the corporation and within the individual. Students read and discuss the science and art of creativity, share personal experiences, write daily, take weekly field trips, and look deeply within themselves to better understand how to become more creative. In the end, students are more creative, can better relate to highly creative people, and have a personal curriculum for lifelong creative development, including a goal statement on just how the student plans to change the world.

If you have any questions about the class (or want this class to be taught at your corporate offices), please email me. If you wonder whether creativity can be taught, read this.

Here are some comments from three wonderful recent students:

"A 'can-opener' for your mind and emotions. Intense and intriguing. Expect to test and develop your emotional maturity in an unorthodox business school setting. Each class is different. You can never get enough; you're not supposed to - this class merely sets things in motion to help you attend to your whole self beyond this class. Don't expect to be uncomfortable forever - you'll begin to like what you discover about yourself."

"This class challenged me, but also helped me grow as a person. I feel that the things I learned in this class can be carried with me forever. This is a class I will never forget."

"This was the most mentally stimulating course I have ever taken."

On the other hand, some recent students suggested that I offer some warnings to students who are thinking about taking the class. So, let your expectations be guided:

1. The course can be unpredictable. I will lead (and be led) as the classroom conversation strays. Do not expect predictability.

2. The course is deceptively difficult. There is much reading and writing. But the work does not have diminishing returns; incremental effort yields incremental gain.

The syllabus is new and improved (and always under renovation). In its current form, it is here.

If you want to send a flyer to a friend — or post it in a hallway bulletin board, here's an old one.

One Bud, Well Bit

In the fall of 1978, I arrived at Yale to a class welcome by the then new president of Yale, A. Bartlett Giamatti.

Bart talked funny.
He couldn't help it. He'd read too much Dante.

During his Welcome Address To The Incoming Class of 1982, he compared his own summer of 1978 to ours, filled with uncertainty about arriving at Yale: for us, as freshman; for him, as the new president, a freshman of sorts.

But he didn't say it that way. He said, during the summer,

"The worm
of apprehension
bit deep
in the bud
of anticipation."

I recall we applauded the line. It was perfect. The phrase washed over us with delight, the intellectual joy of realizing that, yes, in fact, we had arrived at a special place, where words are discretely chosen, arguments are deeper, authenticity is pursued.

And we all knew — we felt it in our bones — how the worm would not let that bud alone.

Bart and Me
Bart eventually advanced his career toward his true love. More than Yale, baseball. He left Yale to become president of the National League and eventually Commissioner of Baseball.

As President of the National League, Bart courageously banned Pete Rose from baseball. It's a long story that many might remember: the popular player, called "Charlie Hustle" for his grit and determination, was destined for the Hall of Fame, but gambled on baseball. So Bart banned him. I don't think Mr. Rose was even allowed to come watch a game, except at home on his television.

Still now, decades later, Pete Rose remains the only living human who is ineligible for induction into the Hall of Fame. I think he needs to die first. And even then?

At the All-Star Break that summer, 1988, The New York Times asked sports fans, "Who are the league M.V.P.'s at this stage?" I responded briefly with this published letter. (When I didn't hear from Mr. Giamatti, I sent him the clipping from the newspaper. He responded with this keepsake.)

Bart was soon elevated to Commissioner of Baseball. Back then The Commissioner was a position of courage, an independent power, staring down both players and owners, as an advocate for neither, rather as a single-minded defender of the Integrity Of The Game Of Baseball. After Bart died, his lawyer and long-time friend Fay Vincent (and chief investigator of Pete Rose) became the eighth Commission of Baseball. Mr. Vincent expelled George Steinbrenner, who was later reinstated.

Unless the current Commissioner — coincidentally known as "Bud," as in "the bud of anticipation" — wishes to write me a letter and set me straight, I believe the Commissioner now serves the owners.

Great Reading
One of the best essays ever written is about baseball, by Bart Giamatti. You don't have to love baseball to love this essay, this writer — and his son, the actor Paul Giamatti. (Here is "The Green Fields of the Mind.")

But This Isn't About Baseball.
This is about the worm of apprehension, biting deep into the bud of anticipation. 

New Bud, Same Worm
Tomorrow morning, we drive our elder child to college in New York City.

We were supposed to leave this morning.

But the Hurricane Irene rages toward Manhattan, expected to arrive at the original college drop-off time.

Our family is already worm-bit. Now, we hope for the best for all in the path of Irene.

And we wait for a chance to leave apprehension behind, shake off the worm, and get to the future.

All my life, I have thought of his immortal phrase: "The worm of apprehension bit deep in the bud of anticipation."

Now, I see it from another perspective.

Business Fiction

What are the books that every business person should read? 

For value investing? The Intelligent Investor and Security Analysis. For management? Anything by Peter Drucker and the the latest issue of Harvard Business Review. For strategy? Michael Porter and Jim Collins. For sales and marketing? Customers For Life and Made To Stick.

And then there are the many hundreds of biographies, auto-biographies and memoirs of business heroes. And other historical figures. 

Oh, we could argue about those recommendations. We could easily add 20 or 100 titles. 

But this isn't about non-fiction. My students and clients already read — and my faculty colleagues already assign — enough non-fiction.

This is about business fiction.
What are the books of fiction that every business person should read? 

In my quest to teach liberal arts to business people, I'd like to teach a course on Truth In Jest: The Fictional Legends Every Business Person Should Know.

This course would ensure that the participants are more than literate. They could claim Business Literacy.

The list starts plainly enough.
These titles start to answer the question: "What does any well read business person have on the shelf — and in mind and soul?"   

Books: Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and Upton Sinclair's The Jungle

Plays: Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice and Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross

Movies: Tin Men and House of Games

What titles would you add? What's essential for Business Literacy?

Who cares?
I do. Here's why I care.

When I was 22 years old, my boss and I were scheduled to meet the Big Client at the 21 Club for dinner.

My boss was stuck in late afternoon Manhattan traffic. So there I was: alone with the client.

"What should we do?" I asked Big Client.

"Let's wait in the bar," he said.

Forty-five minutes later, after my boss arrived, we sat for dinner. My boss asked Big Client, "So how did Artie do?" I was a very new guy at the office and leaving me alone with the client was foolhardy.

"Artie? Oh, he did great," said Big Client. "Anyone can learn your business. But few young people can stand at the bar for a half hour and chat with the client."

Business fiction can make that possible.  

POSTSCRIPT (6/27/11):
After I posted the "Business Fiction," I received the following, thoughtful email from Joe Sperry. (Thanks, Joe.) He permitted me to copy this for you:

Coming from the liberal art side of things, I can think of a number of business fictions, two of which I would not force anyone to read. Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener is the one that is perfect for English teachers (speaking as a former one) to gleefully show the limitations of business. The second is Joseph Heller’s Something Happened—the book he wrote after Catch-22. Something Happened is the story of a man living in terror at a corporation with awful bosses and after 900 pages or so (hyperbole) what happens is that his infant son dies. As you can imagine, sales were not great, especially for those expecting another Catch-22.

In one Shakespeare class I took, I do remember the professor discussing the leadership styles of various focal characters. Hamlet—awful, but Othello decent—there is a scene where he comes in and his men are dueling to the death ( I.ii.59) and he simply says: “Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them."  Not everyone could stop a fight thus. Julius Caesar was presented as the leader driven by ambition and reason—the Gordon Gecko of Roman times. I always thought there was an interesting course here. I’d be tempted to include Lady Macbeth in it.

If I had to choose a great business novel, it might be Anthony Trollope’s The Way We Live Now, which I reread several summers ago. The parallels with today’s business are frightening. Although it’s two very long books so I don’t know if a businessperson would read it. If there is a great business novel, I do not know it. Sinclair Lewis’ Babbitt maybe or Dodsworth—the movie remains a wonderful thirties classic—one of Walter Huston’s greatest roles.

There are others: William Dean Howells’ Rise of Silas Lapham maybe—although it’s a dismal book to read. I dimly recall Louis Auchincloss’s The Embezzler and that I liked it.

I don't know about you, but I find Joe's business literacy to be humbling. Way to go, Joe!

I think the syllabus might be full.

Here's To The Graduates

It's been one of the most emotional weeks of my life, as I described here.

An anchoring moment, the chance to catch my breath in service to others, came at Village Academy, a lovely gem of a independent school. They were nice enough to invite me to deliver this year's commencement address and being there was a chance for me to relax and recenter myself.

This might sound odd to you.
Many people would be made more anxious to have to write and deliver a speech. 

For me, especially during an emotional week, is was a welcome moment of flow. Surfers surf — and that looks scary to me, but they are focused and reinvigorated. Speaking is my surfing.

Here's what I said to the graduates.
A disclaimer, first: it borrows heavily from and expands on a commencement address I gave two years ago to Laurel School.  I did what I could to improve the presentation. I customized it for this wonderful school. But I couldn't imagine a better topic for the day. 

Perhaps it is the right topic for you, too, today?

Here it is...

In Praise of Speed Bumps
(or "A Summer Breath") 

Presented to Village Academy
At the Fifteenth Commencement Exercises
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Powell, Ohio 

Thank you, Board President Dymerski, Head of School Lasley (Miss Susie), Mr. Fitchko, Miss Hohe, members of the board of trustees, esteemed faculty, proud parents, loving siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles. 

And to the class of 2011, thank you.

You have been mutually supportive in a real community of genuine people, indulging each other with encouragement, using your power for good. You are a model for other classes to follow. And they will. 

I don't know how your tradition describes heaven.
Perhaps it is white robes, halos and carpeting made of clouds.  

My tradition is vague on the notion. I kind of think that it is a place of learning, where fabulous people encourage each other. Village Academy might be heaven. I hope you're happy.  

Summer School 2011

Today started beautifully, with a flat bicycle tire. A rear tire, which is the more difficult to change.

It really was beautiful, because a couple years ago — during summer school — I learned how to fix a flat tire on my bike. And, to the admiring amazement of my biking pal Gordon:

I disengaged the brake, pulled off the tire, used the tire tool to loosen it, flattened and removed the ruptured tube, checked the tire for any internal damage (which might ruin the new tube), partially inflated the new tube, put it on the rim (with care for the placement of the tube and valve), used the tire tool to reinsert the tire edge within the rim, finished inflating the tire, flipped the bike, and reengaged the brake.

It was very fun. I had all the tools, except a tire guage, which I will buy when I go back to my bike store tomorrow for a replacement tube.

Without summer school, I'd have had to walk home.
We were ten miles away on a hot, sunny, muggy day. It would have been a bummer.

I love summer school. The first summer school for me — in 1974 — taught me touch typing. I'm grateful to this day. It's my fundamental skill right here, right now, on Net Cotton Content.

What's for school?
A quick review of last year's curriculum suggests I was skipping a lot of class. Oh, well.

Here's what seems worth studying this summer:

1. How to sell. I've always wanted to be better at selling. I've applied to a one-week sales training course this summer. They made me take a test and they say (1) my buy cycle is too long and (2) I'm not a closer. "Is that trainable?" I asked. "Oh, yes." So, if I get admitted to sales class, I'm going. More on that later.
2. How to publish a book. I have three book projects underway right now. I really want to learn what it means to publish a book in this brave new world.
3. Geography. I am sick and tired of not knowing which countries (and U.S. states) are adjacent to others.
4. How to sing "Try To Remember" from The Fantasticks. I want to serenade my OSU Creativity Class at our first meeting in September. 
5. Memorize "Never Again Would Bird's Song Be the Same" by Robert Frost. The soul of creativity is in the air.

That's a short list.
Something else might get added. I think I will take another look at last year's list and try some of those again.

There's a longer list of things I understand how to do, but I need to drum up the motivation to do them. Write those books. Meditate. Exercise. Walk in the woods.

Just got to do them.

What do you want to learn — and do — this summer?

A Goal (Partly) Reached

During what is now a decade of teaching creativity, I've presented an assignment that helps students define their goals.

The Assignment
Write hypothetical newspaper headlines describing your achievement of four goals  — one each for four aspects of your life: personal, family, community, and business.

To read about this assignment (and complete it for yourself), click here. 

A Student Hits Paydirt
In last Wednesday's New York Times, a front-page story caught my eye: "Atheists Seek Chaplain Role in the Military" by James Dao describes how Atheists and Freethinkers seek equality in our armed services.

What particularly caught my eye was reporter's quoting of Jason Torpy. Long-time readers of Net Cotton Content have read about his wisdom. And here is his profile on SpeakerSite.

Well, the special treat for me is that this is just the sort of headline students like Jason have submitted in our creativity classes.

This is the first time I've woken up and seen a student actually land an ambitious headline in the newspaper. And the Times, no less. And the front page! 

Why is this "A Goal (Partly) Reached"?
Because Jason and MAAF have much work ahead of them. The article isn't their ultimate goal.

I presume Jason has another headline planned. You can easily imagine what it might be.

I salute a favorite veteran. I appreciate Jason Torpy's ethical service to our country.