by Herbert Lui
1. The most reliable way to find a good idea is to write down a bunch of bad ones
The team at product studio Good Enough, which has made software like blogging platform Pika, has a channel in their instant messaging dedicated to bad ideas. Bad ideas are useful because it helps lower inhibitions. The spirit of this idea reminds me of Tina Fey’s rules for improv comedy, and is why I think being prolific is generally useful advice.
The next time you feel stuck or blocked, just try writing down 10 bad ideas. You’ll feel recharged in minutes.
2. Bad ideas free you up to be more honest
The indirect path to finding good ideas—by finding many bad ones first—is more useful than attempting a direct path to finding a good idea. When Vin Verma started blogging again, he noticed he stopped in the first place because, “I started to only want to publish the best things, so I didn’t publish at all. I stopped writing to just riff on things, or to explore things in a way that was honest to where I’m actually at.” Sasha Chapin says this another way, “Stop lying about who you are, and write the things that are actually inside you.”
“Good” and “bad” ideas are just labels. Writing all your ideas down, and being honest, is useful because it allows you to access your subconscious mind. When you feel psychologically safe enough to express any idea honestly, including bad ones, the good ones will also flow out.
3. Sometimes, it’s too early to tell if an idea is bad or good
A framework I keep coming back to comes from Professor Betty Flowers, who wrote a paper in 1981 entitled, “Madman, Architect, Carpenter, Judge: Roles and the Writing Process.” In Professor Flower’s perspective, each writer plays the part of these four roles, and each has competing strengths and needs.
For example, the madman (also called “the artist”) is very energetic and capable of creating new things, often getting carried away by passion, anger, and enthusiasm. However, the work may turn out sloppy. By contrast, the judge is very capable of evaluating and assessing new work, often being very critical of bad ideas; however, they can’t make anything new.
The key to make the creative process work is to keep these roles separate; if you’re making something new, then channel the energy of the madman. Know that these ideas are fragile.
When you’re improving the idea by editing, allow the architect and carpenter to strengthen it, before channeling the critical energy of the judge.
Another way to think about this is through the four stage creative process; when you’re in the ideation stage, only focus on research and coming up with ideas. When you’re incubating the ideas, rest, play, and have fun. When you’re verifying, that’s when the judge comes in and starts to make sure the idea is any good.
4. An idea might make you feel stupid, but it’s not necessarily a bad idea
In the Journal of Cell Science, Martin A. Schwartz writes, “We don’t do a good enough job of teaching our students how to be productively stupid – that is, if we don’t feel stupid it means we’re not really trying.”
This principle applies outside of science, to creative ideas as well. Experiencing and wrestling with creative stupidity could be a sign that you’re incubating a new, interesting, idea. Marina Abramović writes in her autobiography, Walk Through Walls, “I always question artists who are successful in whatever they do. I think what that means is that they’re repeating themselves and not taking enough risks.”
It could also mean that you’re stretching your skills beyond its comfort zone. As Vincent Van Gogh responded to criticism, “I keep on making what I can’t do yet in order to learn to be able to do it.”
5. Necessity helps turn bad ideas into good ones
To me, one of the most important rules in writing (which I think applies to all creative work), is work with what you’ve got. In Prague, the Villa Müller designed by Adolf Loos in 1930 has remained a cultural icon through the decades. Richard Sennett writes in The Craftsman, “The formally pure properties of the [Villa Müller] were achieved by working with many similar mistakes and impediments Loos had to take as facts on the ground; necessity stimulated his sense of form.”
Several years ago, I almost stopped writing. I’d experienced some minor success with my early work as a writer, but I wasn’t really enjoying the writing process anymore. In the pursuit of more success, I started lying to myself and pushing myself to write things that I hoped people wanted to read, not what I actually wanted to write.
Years later, one of the most freeing things I did for myself as a writer is to start writing every day at my blog. Improv comedy worked for me because there was no time to say no. Writing every day works because there’s no time to lie. Each idea only has 15 minutes; I need to practice finding a more modest shape to express it. Because there are very few people reading it, I can write to think.
***
Herbert Lui is an author and speaker whose work encourages people to embrace the messy, joyful process of creating with purpose and impact. His writing has appeared in Fast Company, The Globe and Mail, and The Fader. As the author of Creative Doing, Herbert draws from his years of practice to help creatives move through blocks, build momentum, and reconnect with the joy of showing up consistently and honestly. He writes every day at his blog and twice a month at his newsletter.
Enjoying the content on 3QD? Help keep us going by donating now.