The OffBeat #15: The End of "Both/And"

An ode to "either/or"

You know how any company you work for, any organization you’re a part of, any group of people whose company you keep has a collective lingo? There are certain phrases and acronyms that create a cultural moat around a collection of people. There’s a vernacular that contributes to defining the shape of the pack.

At one of my former employers, “both/and” was one of those tokens of team vocabulary. We’d joke, as we architected our strategy decks, that we couldn’t possibly choose a single objective to orient a body of work toward, or a solitary north star goal to measure success — because we were a “‘both/and’ company.” Each marketing campaign had to drive not just awareness, but also trial, and also frequency. Every new product development had to incentivize fresh customer growth, while also reenergizing lapsed users and broadening our value proposition.

This was a disaster.

The ambiguity and lack of focus led to incoherent roadmaps, which led to inconsistent results, which led to a demotivated and frustrated team. Repeat, repeat, repeat, quarter after quarter.

Henceforth, I committed to simplicity as a corporate creed.

Said another way, by Seth Godin:

You can’t build a luxury car that’s also inexpensive, AND drives well off-road, AND is very fast AND super safe. You can’t create an event that’s intimate, open to all comers, proven, resilient for any weather, held outdoors and unique.

Constraints are a gift. They draw the perimeter within which you can ideate to your heart’s content. Choosing “either/or” does not stem innovation; it frees you to create impactful work that delivers results by virtue of being concrete.

The concept holds in your personal life, too; pick one project or personal goal to double down on, versus dabbling in a few, and your progress will speak for itself.

Think of it like improv in jazz: from a finite set of notes, keys, and chords, musicians can create mind-blowing solos. If there were a limitless range of octaves and notes in our auditory landscape — like a musical version of Borges’s hellacious Library of Babel — would any music be nearly as gratifying?

Frameworks lead to freedom. Root out the “both/and” in favor of “either/or.”

Have a great week,

Allison