The Forgotten Reason we Create
// The New Way
It's all algorithms, thats what they say - the constant drone on social media is to 'create' for the algorithm, let it rise you to the top and show off your work to millions.
But it never goes that way does it?
That crappy company post you've spent hours making, or the blog post (nope, the irony isn't lost) that you got up at 5am to write - it's all to create something that taps into that algorithm, that hit's that organic search term on Google or that crams in a keyword here or there. Everything is focused on likes, personal brand building or awareness and we're all driving the bus towards that cliff-edge called burnout.
Everything we now create is being forced to conform to a new standard, a standard set by social media companies, we not longer create for the the real reason we all started - the forgotten reason, the one reason which should guide us all to make something better.
I'm not even talking about self expression - that's one step too far in my eyes, nope, I'm talking about something even more simplistic - we're forgetting that at the very start, we're creating things to move others - to get them to laugh, smile, cry or remember something.
We're forgetting the one reason we started creating anything in the first place - joy.
// Remember?
This weekend, my wife and I went away for a (well needed) break - no kids, no dogs - just us and a hot tub and it was bliss - we sat and talked for hours and drank a little too much wine. I refused to take my laptop with me as I know that the temptation to do any kind of work would be too strong and I'd end up, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, sitting in front of a screen.
It was nice to get away from a screen but my wife took something with her to keep herself sane - she took colouring pens and a colouring book.
Yep, in our house, we've rediscovered the joy of colouring books because there seems to be a social media trend of colouring books, designer colouring pens and then the sharing and 'tips' videos that go with it all.
It reminds me of when we used to sit, as my kids do now, and colour for hours - we didn't colour those pictures in for ourselves and my kids certainly don't do it for themselves now - not with the allure of Fortnite, FIFA or Youtube lingering in their consciousness.. They do it for other people - especially to bring joy to my wife. When we were kids, we coloured pictures, wrote a song, performed a play or built something MEGA from Lego - to show off to our parents.
We wanted to give joy to our parents - we wanted their faces to light up and be proud (or amazed, depending on the child) at what we'd created for them - I remember almost every weekend, building the biggest car from Lego bricks and showing it off to my mum - the doors, the 'rocket boosters' - all made and designed in a way to be better than the one I built the week before and better than my brothers because I was seeking her approval but also to show that I was far superior in my Lego building skills.
Our creativity and our passion for making things back then was a gift. It was about connection and we've lost that - we've lost the fact that everything we film, post, upload or show off - it's about bringing joy to other people and that makes me sad.
// Last Week
I delivered a whole day session to students at the Arts University in Bournemouth - these students are in their final throws of their final projects and the next big thing on the horizon is to find a job, find a place in the world and that's probably going to be their biggest challenge.
Each student went through their portfolio's in painstaking fashion, they showed off their work, explained the reasons why they'd created something in the way that they did and then they looked, with expectant eyes, for a glimmer of approval. I duly gave it to them because, without even a hesitation, their portfolio's were amazing - I was genuinely taken aback with the quality of the work they'd produced and I was blown away by their enthusiasm for the process.
But that all counts for nothing when it comes to their next steps - they're battling 50 other students who are all as equally passionate about their portfolios and who may have a slightly slicker portfolio website - all trying to find that one job which will set them off.
But they'd forgotten the one thing which could make them stand out from the crowd - and thats connection.
They'd connected with me - because I there, I was in front of them and for 6-7 solid hours, I saw 12 students all sit at my table, we exchanged ideas, stories and tips on anything from CV reviews, video editing tips, cover letter feedback and more - but we connected because I was able to see and hear their passion and they were able to see/hear mine.
The missing piece in all of their work was connection.
One student nailed it - and I mean nailed it - they'd thought about their intro, their portfolio was outstanding and they presented it with passion, telling me why they'd created certain pieces and the meaning behind each piece and then when I delivered feedback and advice, they listened intently and didn't take my first piece of advice, they dove deeper and asked questions. Then, when it was time to leave, they presented me with a very unique business card - not in the traditional sense - it was a postcard.
They had prepared a handwritten postcard - one with a stamp and in the 'address' section of the postcard, they'd added all their social media information and their portfolio details and on the left hand side (where the message normally goes) - they'd added a handwritten note, thanking me for my time and honestly, that postcard has been stuck in my brain ever since.
It's not just because it's a postcard and other students handed me a standard business card or a CV - it was because this postcard brought me joy.
Someone had created something just for me. That felt special.
That student did this exercise to 2/3 other people in the room and the chap who was sat next to me got the same treatment - at the point that the student handed the postcard and delivered the same little line about 'not having any business cards but I've got this' - their face lit up, they got that same connection and joy that I did and we both commented that it was memorable and it stood out.
And boy, did it stand out.
Someone created something, just for me. And I still remember it.
Just as our parents remember the little things we did for them, the little cards we wrote, the little gifts we made - they remember because it brought joy to them and it created that connection.
// We've forgotten.
When that student handed me that postcard, I didn't care about any likes, comments or shares on that postcard - it didn't matter to me. It didn't matter to them either - they didn't do it for everyone else in the room to 'tag, comment or follow along' - because no-one else mattered.
Creators have become an inward looking creature more focused on 'How do I look?' instead of 'How did this make someone feel?' and whilst self-expression and personal creativity matters - it's gone too far, we've tipped the balance in favour of showing off to others instead of creating on a one-to-one basis.
We're pandering to the masses, trying our best to collect likes and follows - all in the hope that other see that we're the 'good' child who's creating for others and therefore give us validation.
It's a shame because we shouldn't be seeking the validation from others because we've gathered up all these clicks of a button - we should be searching for that one true connection. That little nugget of joy on someones face and even if, like the student handing me a postcard, that nugget of joy is from one person - that's all that should matter.
We need to reframe our creation efforts - we've been fed the rhetoric for far too long about being top of mind, being ever present for people so they buy our shit - we need to think of our creation efforts as a service but not in that way - we need to think less of a transactional service and more in the way a comedian delivers a laugh or a film-maker delivers a feeling.
// The Challenge
So here’s the challenge - the next thing you make… don’t make it for everyone.
Don’t aim it at some imaginary audience or try to fit it into a trend you’re already tired of. Don’t think about likes, shares or whether it’ll hit a content calendar or not.
Make it for someone - One person.
A mate who’s had a rough week. Your nan. Your kid. Your partner. Make it for the person who needs a laugh or a lift or a little reminder that someone’s thinking of them - because when you create for someone - actually for someone - it just hits different. It lands. It stays with them and it means more.
And that’s the stuff that matters. Not whether it went viral. Not whether it ticked some SEO box or got a 4% engagement rate. Not whether a stranger in a meeting somewhere ‘liked the tone of it.’
None of that’s real.
What’s real is the joy on someone’s face when they get that you made something just for them. When they feel it. That’s the good stuff. That’s the stuff you remember - I've been creating videos for the past week for Creator Day and I've been creating videos that have a little comedy moment in, a little smile, a giggle - because I want someone to feel something.
But I was creating those videos for one person - I had one person in mind when I was editing, because I wanted them to smile.
Not for everyone.
Not the algorithm.
Just for them.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s how we start remembering how we started do all this in the first place.
