When I used to swim I was lucky to have a coach who forced us to refine constantly refine our strokes. it felt like being trapped in a mind clamp of boredom, I just wanted to pelt up and down the pool…he had us doing endless drills, not to mention repeating tumble turns and the use of arm paddles that melted your muscles like warm Nutella. But he did me a big favour. One that applies to planning as well as swimming.
I won races against bigger and stronger boys in the last few metres as their strokes fell apart. While strength and energy glossed over the, sometimes miniscule, flaws at the start, those little wrinkles in technique became too much. Strategy is a bit like that you know.
Maybe you’ve written a brief that sings, full of drama and inspiration, there’s just a little nagging doubt,something just isn’t quite right. There’s the creative review where the work leaves you buzzing, but at the core, something doesn’t feel quite right, it’s nothing major, it’ll be fine, it’s interesting enough to gloss over that anyway.
But like the boys with the slightly flawed strokes, the further you go, the louder those quiet little cracks sing.
Hopefully someone in the team will bring this up, but to be honest, you’re the planner, it’s your job to make sure the thinking’s water tight.
Now imagine you’ve let it lie. You’re doing concept testing, the client’s there, whole team’s there, and it unravels. Or it gets to presentation to the board, and they rip your client to shreds.
And who will get the kicking? You will. You’re the strategist, you should have pointed it out.
A little patience at the level of the brief, or a little bit of unpopularity when you play the logic card at the review really is worth it in the end.


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