Could AI resolve The Game of Thrones?

“I drink and I know things.”

I miss Game of Thrones. The initial seasons were exceptional, but the later ones suffered from rushed storytelling and failed to sustain the quality and visceral world-building found in George R.R. Martin’s original books. It’s been over a decade since I read A Dance with Dragons. Since then, The Winds of Winter, once highly anticipated, now nearly mythical, remains unpublished, more than a decade after Martin’s last book, with no clear release date in sight.

Martin isn’t alone. Patrick Rothfuss, renowned for The Name of the Wind, has also left readers in narrative limbo. The long-delayed Doors of Stone, the final book in The Kingkiller Chronicle, has become a running joke among fantasy fans, symbolising promise turned purgatory.

These unfinished works aren’t merely about impatience. They show emotional investment in the characters. The standout for me? Well, it’s Tyrion Lannister.

Witty, wounded, wise, and constantly underestimated, Tyrion became the heart of the series. His quotes are ingrained in the collective memory of fans: “A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone.”

Tyrion is, for many, the soul of Westeros. His mix of brutal honesty, dark humour, and moral complexity makes him the emotional compass of a story where loyalty is scarce and happy endings even more so. Because these characters are so unforgettable, the lack of closure hurts. We want to see Tyrion’s journey completed in Martin’s voice, not just on screen. We want Kvothe’s secrets ultimately revealed by Rothfuss himself. Until then, we keep rereading, rewatching, and hoping.

Then this week, I watched the excellent YouTube channel The Harry Potter Theory, a beautifully written, compelling “extension” to the Harry Potter stories, which explores what happens to Harry, Hermione, and Ron following the destruction of Voldemort and the aftermath and consequences of that event.

It seems implausible, even immoral to suggest (and it is almost certainly illegal), but maybe AI could finish the Thrones stories, and even open the Doors of Stone?

A Visit to the Apple Chapel: Innovation, Inspiration, and Active Hope

A few years ago, a friend of mine casually suggested I should “pop round and see his place.”

As with so many good intentions, life got in the way. Then came the lockdowns, and the world shifted dramatically before gradually settling into what we now call the “new normal.” Fortunately, the invitation was extended again — and six years after that first suggestion, I finally boarded the Eurostar to France and made my way across the border into Belgium to visit The Apple Chapel, created by my friend, colleague, and constant source of inspiration: Peter Hinssen.

In 2019, Peter bought a disused chapel in East Flanders and transformed it into a personal shrine to Apple — an astonishing, curated archive of the company’s innovation journey. Inside, everything from the earliest Macs to the latest iPhones is carefully displayed throughout the sacred space.

During the COVID lockdowns, Peter turned the chapel into something even more dynamic: a live-streaming studio and digital classroom. It became a creative hub for virtual webinars, interactive learning, and strategic thinking — all set against the backdrop of Apple’s physical legacy. Today, the Apple Chapel doubles as a venue for intimate gatherings, discreet leadership seminars, and bold conversations about the future of technology. It’s a place that bridges past and future — grounded in tactile history but built for imaginative possibility.

The chapel itself is stunning. What made the visit even more special was having Peter personally guide me through the collection. True to form, he also gifted me a copy of his latest book, The Uncertainty Principle — a thoughtful, energising playbook for navigating turbulent times.

In it, Peter speaks of “active hope”, a mindset for leaders that reframes disruption not as doom but as a prompt for reinvention. He encourages us to see the “cracks in the system” not as threats, but as windows of opportunity — openings for innovation and transformation. This is no naive optimism: the book acknowledges the dystopian forces at play. But it insists that we ride the waves of the “Never Normal” rather than drown in the undertow of despair.

If hope can be strategic, and vision grounded, The Uncertainty Principle is both. And if ever there was a space that embodies that philosophy, it’s the Apple Chapel — past and future held together in the hands of someone who’s never stopped thinking forward.

PS: A short video here about the Apple Chapel filmed in June 2025. Thanks to Peter for the tour!

The OA enjoys its second year

Last year I launched The Organisational Advantage (The OA). It’s an irregular newsletter that explores how leaders can build genuine cohesion and connection in today’s hybrid world.

The OA recently passed 1,000 subscribers. That’s 1,000 real people — not bots — who read, share, and comment on the ideas I put out. I’m grateful, humbled, and still surprised.

Most weeks, I feel like King Canute, standing on the shore as the tide of AI-generated posts rolls in, relentless and perfectly polished. And yet, I keep sending out head-crafted dispatches: typos, rough edges, half-formed thoughts and all.

If you’re craving stories, insights, and hard-won lessons about leadership, team culture, and the messy, very human reality of modern work, subscribe to The OA. It’s not perfect. It’s real. And it might just help. A bit.

If you want to sign up for The OA, please use the link below.

📬 Subscribe here: https://lnkd.in/e3wWRuMZ

Should you judge a book by its cover?

Those nice people at Troubador, the publisher for Seven Dials, have sent me the draft of the front cover. The concept is based on an original photographic work by Trey Ratcliffe, an art photographer based in New Zealand. Trey kindly allowed me to use the image for the cover of my debut novel and I think its rather gorgeous.

We like to think of Seven Dials as a place where things converge: seven quirky streets meeting at a common point and an enigmatic Sun Dial Pillar (with six faces). But what if we considered the Dials differently, not as points that meet, but as Dials that diverge? Not pointing towards the Sun Dial Pillar but away from it and towards specific destinations envisioned by their architect? But, if there are specific places he had in mind, what were they, and why?

These questions and hundreds more are explored and resolved in Seven Dials, The Past, the Present and the Puzzle of Seven Dials. Published on 28th October.

You can find out more at www.thequestor.com

A Moment to Reflect: #1 in the World

Since 2014, I have had the privilege of working with London Business School; first as a consultant, then as a member of staff. Over the years, there have been numerous memorable moments and lessons learned, but above all, what has always stood out are the people: the colleagues, contributors, and incredible participants who make this work so rewarding.

My main focus since 2019 has been the Senior Executive Programme (‘SEP’), which is the School’s flagship executive programme. We worked hard to redesign, refocus, and reimagine a programme that has been running continuously since 1966. In 2019, our open enrolment offer was ranked 23rd in the world. Following the disruption, in 2020-2021, we began creating something more relevant and compelling for senior leaders.

Then something truly special happened in 2024. We saw cohorts form deeper, lasting connections. We witnessed facilitators and contributors stretch and elevate their craft. We experimented, explored, and delivered learning experiences that challenged thinking in powerful ways. And we welcomed some of the most talented, thoughtful participants I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.

Today, that collective effort has been recognised LBS Executive Education has been ranked #1 in the world by the Financial Times, with a near-perfect participant satisfaction score of 9.79/10.

We’re #2 globally for Custom Programmes—climbing five places from last year. And most meaningfully: we’re the only school in the world ranked in the top 3 for both Open and Custom Programmes.

To be part of this journey; to contribute to designing experiences that bring people together, spark new thinking, and make London come alive as a learning environmen has been nothing short of an honour.

But rankings only tell part of the story. This recognition is a testament to the incredible community around us: our world-class faculty, dedicated staff, expert facilitators, and most of all, the participants who choose to invest their time, energy, and trust in us. Especially to those in our #SEP cohorts. Thank you for your openness, your insights, and your feedback. You’ve helped shape something extraordinary.

To see that reflected in the FT rankings is humbling, but the real reward is in the relationships, the breakthroughs, and the shared growth we’ve experienced along the way.

Here’s to what we’ve built together. To see this recognised by the FT today is humbling.

PS. The picture is of SEP113 visiting the London headquarters of Apple in November 2024.

Shortlisted for the Speakers' Awards 2025

Thrilled to share that I’ve been shortlisted for Best Thought Leadership Speaker at the 2025 Speaker Awards! I’m also incredibly honoured to be a finalist for the Booker’s Choice Award — a special shoutout to the friend (you know who you are!) who encouraged me to apply.

Over the past two years, I’ve spoken to organisations across industries about one urgent yet simple idea: We need to rethink leadership for a disconnected world. The answer? Build cohesion — and deliver that message in a smart, funny, and unforgettable way. Thank you to everyone who has given me a platform with their people and the leaders who’ve opened their doors (and minds) to fresh thinking.

When I started writing GLUE: Transforming Leadership in a Hybrid World, organisations were fraying. Teams were drifting. Leaders were reaching for connection in a landscape that had changed almost overnight. The rules of engagement had shifted, but leadership hadn’t caught up. So, I wrote. And rewrote. And listened. The book became my way of thinking out loud: What if cohesion was the missing ingredient in modern leadership? What if others’ research, studies, and groundbreaking work on social capital weren’t outdated, but more urgent than ever?

My conclusion was that organisations don’t just need alignment or better communications. They need genuine human connections across time zones, technologies, and generations. The key to that is a different kind of leadership for the way we now work and live.

Writing the book was just the beginning. Speaking about it — taking those ideas off the page and into rooms full of people — was a different gig altogether.

I’ve had to learn how to turn insight into impact. How to make audiences feel the tension between connection and disconnection. How to use humour, story, silence, and the occasional uncomfortable truth to help leaders see their roles in a new light. Above all, I had to earn the right to be heard. On that, I am on a steep learning curve to market and present my credentials to potential bookers - not just as somebody with something interesting to say, but someone who has something cogent and useful for them to act upon.

In 2024 and early 2025, I delivered over a dozen keynotes in several countries — and I’d love to do even more. This recognition will help open more doors, spark more conversations, and continue the work of reimagining leadership in a hybrid world. That’s why I’m genuinely honoured to be shortlisted for these awards.

SEVEN DIALS - PUBLICATION DATE!

I’m delighted to share that my new book SEVEN DIALS will be published on 28th October 2025.

SEVEN DIALS ia fast-paced modern thriller set in London’s enigmatic district, with a parallel historical backstory about its founder, Thomas Neale. SEVEN DIALS will be published by Troubador and will be available for pre-order this summer and in bookstores in October. The original story has been some 300 years in the making, and after three years of desk-research and the creation of a whole new world of alternative history sleuths, the book is with the publisher and ready to be unleashed later this year. Her are a few marketing-related prompts - as that seems to be the bigger effort than the comparative joy of writing the book:

There will be a Kindle version and a paperback in time for the holidays!

You can find out more by visiting: www.thequestor.com

If you sign up for the emailer on The Questor, you will receive sneak previews, early release details, signed copies, teaser videos, and exclusive subscriber content before anyone else.

The cover shown here is just the mock-up, but that will be shared as soon as it nis confirmed, as will the pre-order pages here and on Amazon, etc.

There will be more to follow on Wave Your Arms and elsewhere, but if you want to join me on the Quest, please let me know, like, share, repost, or comment, and my Publisher will think you rock. JD

Beirut: a world of loss and wonder

Finding great music used to be easier. Two decades ago, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. Each week brought terrific new bands, artists, and tunes. Record shops [remember them?] were addictive, and many hours were purposefully wasted browsing. Video may have killed the radio star, but streaming has killed bands that take time to nurture and release. Today, when I find a gem, I run around the house naked (except for headphones), immersing myself in hope. OK, maybe not naked, but you get the point.

I recently discovered Beirut and have fallen down a melancholy rabbit hole that is deep, wide, and wonderful.  Beirut is/are helmed by Zach Condon and has just released a seventh album, A Study of Losses.

The album, commissioned as the soundtrack for a Swedish contemporary circus adaptation of Judith Schalansky’s “An Inventory of Losses” [you’ve heard of that, right?], is both a meditation on disappearance and a celebration of what remains.  Across 18 tracks—11 vocal and seven instrumental—Condon weaves a tapestry of sound both novel and nostalgic, balancing new sonic adventures with echoes of Beirut’s past.

What sets Beirut apart is Condon’s fearless embrace of unusual instrumentation. On A Study of Losses, he blends ukulele, two types of accordion, pump organ, and modular synths, alongside a string quartet and a brass section. The result is a sound that traverses indie pop, folktronica, ambient, and even medieval and Renaissance influences while remaining unmistakably Beirut.

Condon’s lyrics remain a focal point, touching on loss, memory, and the ephemeral nature of existence. In “Guericke’s Unicorn,” he questions, “How could this thing | make any sense?”—a line that encapsulates the album’s fascination with the mysteries of what is lost and what lingers. When I first heard “Caspian Tiger” a few weeks before the album release [what used to be called a “single”, I guess], my reaction was that Condon had gone too far.  Too overt, too lyrical, too twee even, but revisited here and in the context of the rest of the album, it makes beautiful sense - a repeated harmonic refrain: “You’re also dying | You’re also safe”.

Moments of musical genius abound: an eloquent interplay between ukulele and string quartet on “Mare Crisium” might not sound very rock and roll, but believe me, go there and be melted.  Or wait, breathless, for the mandolin to suddenly appear after the opening refrains of “Forest Encyclopedia.”

Why Beirut Is Extraordinary

Beirut’s music is not just a collection of songs but an invitation into a world where the boundaries between genres, eras, and emotions dissolve. Condon’s mastery of unusual instruments, his painterly approach to production, and his poetic, often haunted lyrics create a body of deeply personal and universally resonant work. As Condon himself has said, “I was obsessed with archiving all of humanity’s lost thoughts and creations where they collect on the moon…” In Beirut’s hands, loss becomes a source of beauty. Every note is a small act of remembrance.  You may need a good dose of Metallica or AC/DC after dwelling amidst the understated quirkiness here. But you will emerge feeling better from the time invested.

For those seeking music that dares to be different, that aches and soars in equal measure, Beirut is not just different; they are essential. With that in mind, a Spotify Playlist shared here: 11 songs from 5 different albums, from the ear-worm No, No, No to a few glimpses from A Study of Losses.


Why remote advocacy sounds like a cult

I have been re-reading several articles about Working From Home (‘WFH’) or WFA (“anywhere”) written by highly articulate advocates. These advocates often, coincidentally, also run a consultancy business on how keeping employees apart from each other is a genius move for increasing productivity, collaboration, and engagement. In the comments section, I sometimes write “WFH has all the hallmarks of a cult” and wait for the outraged blowback to head my way.  Rather than try to articulate my reasoning to every vitriolic message, I asked my Perplexity AI agent to explain the “exact hallmarks of a cult”.  So, the next time you read an article headed “Working From Home = Productivity Nirvana” or “Working in the Office is just so DUMB!” post, then please measure these typical components of a cult, and see if constant over-the-top advocacy of the Remote crowd means they doth protest too much.

  •  Cults are almost always centred around teachings that are considered the “ultimate truth” and dissent is treated with contempt.  

  • Members are expected to follow the truth without question, and any criticism is met with shame, punishment, or expulsion.

  • Cults typically isolate members from family, friends, and colleagues. This isolation helps foster dependency on the group, reducing outside perspectives and support.

  • Cults promote a polarised worldview, framing the group as uniquely right or enlightened and outsiders as misguided, evil, or dangerous. This mentality reinforces group cohesion and discourages leaving.

  • Cults claim a special, exalted status for themselves, their leader, or their mission. They often believe they alone possess the truth or a unique path to salvation or enlightenment.

Other methods, particularly on LinkedIn, designed to promulgate this groupthink include incessant shouty CAPITAL LETTERS blog postings, shares of interminable podcast love-ins, and ‘micro-studies’ and “charts” by vested interests from the group that prove dialling it in from the burbs will save the whale, end global hunger, and add 10x to the share price.

Yes, being apart has never been more popular, but then so was smoking tobacco in the 1970s, and look at the unforeseen damage that popular, cool, universal habit did to a generation and more.  So, WFH advocates, you don’t have to drop bombs in the comments section just because someone proposes that being together, creating corporate cohesion, and close in-person relationships is a terrible way to build a project, career or life.  Other views on the future of work are available. 

PS. And don’t get me started on “virtual all hands”, online socials, and “contact days”.

Bullets above all AI-generated. 

Five Years On - the stupidity continues

Five years ago this week, the UK was closed because of pandemic fear, fuelled by a hysterical media, inflamed by dodgy data from an “expert” at Imperial College and not helped by pathetic politicians who lacked critical thinking skills. As we discovered later, the politicians knew the actual danger to health was close to zero for anyone under 80 years of age, and so they partied, socialised and had affairs regardless, while continuing lockdowns and furlough policies which polled as popular.

But not the just in the UK. Much of the world went mad, the WEF became the global arbiters of acceptable behaviour and businesses were shuttered, flights, borders, education, theatres, hospitality and health services were closed. Worse, familes were seperated by law, social distancing was enforced, and funerals were observed without the comfort of loved ones.

There are various investigations and public enquiries in the UK to “what happened?” but it’s pretty easy to summarise: It was an emerging problem that almost immediately turned into a dystopian life-changing and utter disaster for young people. It created farcical irrational policies [“Stay Indoors!”] that were doubled down again and again over two years. The UK was not alone in fucking it up. Still, it was world-leading in airing sanctimonious, self-serving, web-surfing suburbanites with gold-plated pensions pontificating that we should have locked down sooner, harder, longer. We destroyed the last vestiges of social capital in the UK and banged pans in the street insensibly while merrily damaging the mental health of so many young people.

Today, the impact of poor public policy, naive corporate leadership and the failure of the state to protect its citizens is still profoundly felt. I know some people “had a good pandemic,” whatever the fuck that means, and it has spawned a whole cult of WFH remote-obsessed isolationists, backed by academic research, that shows we have never been happier or more productive than while being apart.

Hopefully, future generations will come to look back and properly understand the utter levels of stupidity inherent in enforced “lockdowns” pursued, promulgated, and bizarrely, it seems (still) supported by millions.

#fiveyears #COVID19 #lockdowns #tragedy #neveragain

Why Gen Z should embrace the workplace

One of the best-selling books in the UK is The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt.  The author explores the recent catastrophic decline in youth mental health and its potential causes, focusing on the impact of technology, social media and overprotective parenting. It’s a sobering read, and I am sure the book will get some blowback based on his challenging views. Still, for this reader, it offers some profound thoughts about the importance of (and the lack of) real-world connections, close relationships and friendships among young people. Haidt calls it the Great Rewiring, which has served to connect everyone in the world while disconnecting them from the people around them.  The consequences of this disconnection are grave.  For Haidt, “People don’t get depressed when they face threats collectively; they get depressed when they feel isolated, lonely, or useless”.

Haidt’s focus is the childhood experience of “Gen Z”, defined as young people born since 1995, but I am confident that very many of that generational cohort are no longer just miserable in school; they are continuing to feel sad and disconnected in the new world of hybrid work. I have argued before that many older workers have joyously “cried for freedom from the commute” and seized the new paradigm of hybrid and remote working.  This mature cohort can draw upon deep reserves of social capital accrued over the years. However, a new generation of workers are starting their careers in organisations where the dynamic and interpersonal norms have changed radically since 2020. I fear that the predominance of hybrid work has been a double-edged sword for the young; creating an illusion of flexibility and well-being while perpetuating that same harmful sense of being apart.

The myth of outputs

The current romanticised myth of remote working is that it is better for work-life balance and that you should be judged on your “outputs”, not your inputs.  If you produce great work while wearing flip-flops in a cafe in the South of France, who needs to be wearing pressed woollens huddled together amongst the post-commute odour of others? In fact, for many younger workers, the idyll of using a laptop and wearing beach shorts at the cafe is a pipedream.  Sure, some ‘Influencers’ on Instagram might be living the dream, working from their Camper Van on the coast, but for most young people, “remote” means a gloomy bedroom or their parent’s kitchen table. LinkedIn is full of commentators and work-mode experts saying that remote is the future of work.  They argue that working should not be about your inputs, attendance, or in-person visibility. Instead, your productivity should be measured by your outputs (or its vague bedfellow “outcomes”).

And that’s where the commentariat is wrong. It has ALWAYS been about the inputs: showing up well, getting known, offering a view, learning as you go, building relationships, making some mistakes, and getting on by getting on with others, and getting on with it. These random inputs accumulate and create reciprocity, relationships, and social capital, which operates as a kind of acquired “lung capacity” for navigating hierarchies, future career moves, and organisational change.  It was never about the outputs.  If it had, firms would not have developed performance management systems that evaluate and reward behaviours (‘doing the right thing’) as well as outputs (‘doing the thing right’.)

Suppose no one can see or sense your inputs. In that case, your outputs merely become aggregated in the cloud, an indeterminate collation of work seldom seen as “owned” by you, understood as your distinct contribution, or something to determine your reward.  If it was all about valuing outputs, as it is now with AI/Search today, then frankly, no one cares who ‘outputs’ the answer. And when people stop caring about who did what, then it’s over.

So my recommendation for those new to the workplace is to put the phone in flight mode, buy an old cassette player for your commute, and head to your workplace more often than your peers. Stuff ‘em.  Don’t flounder in the ‘burbs; be in the room more often than those others. Better still, try to find an employer where being together is valued deeply by the leadership team, who attend with the same vigour and verve they had early in their careers.

While they still exist, find a place where they still fly a pirate flag above the building.  Don’t dwell on the Glassdoor reviews online; suck up the commute and take in the unique smell of the place.  Seize a chance to work on something amazing where your ability to INPUT matters - offering ideas, thoughts, humour, misgivings, doubts, and imagination amidst the inevitable many moments of boredom.  Your inputs - you as a person - are the reason for being in the room. Much of what you do won’t feel amazing, but it’s better to be seen than to be invisible in the cloud. Not this year, or maybe even next - but a few years from now, you will be glad you did.

PS. If you’re a leader in that firm, read Haidt’s book - and go easy on the new kids.

The Rebellion vs The Empire

The acronym debate rages: WFH v RTO.  [Work From Home or Return to Office]. As a friend said at lunch this week, it's almost like "another dimension to the culture wars".

Liberty-equality-duvet, versus to the tyranny of the commute and the humdrum office.

It is The Rebellion vs The Empire, the remote planet outliers living the dream on Alderaan, while the menacing Death Star looms: with Vadar-like CEO's issuing RTO mandates: ‘get on board, or we'll destroy your world!’

I've followed the ‘future of work’ story deeply since 2020, even writing a rather sententious missive back in Sept 2021 to a senior colleague, saying that the adoption of "smart working" (at that point rocking up to the office once a month) was "a fundamental strategic decision that we should not stumble into".

With different political winds blowing, the US is climbing back aboard the death-star ("or else", viz Amazon in 2025] while in the UK, Civil Servants are increasingly working from the suburbs, with job security and fibre broadband.  But both the US and the UK are wrestling with 'hollowed out' town centres: ‘donut cities’, as if described by Estragon in Beckett's play, where “Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it's awful.” Maybe RTO's will help, but if not, what plans for our inner cities? This and other challsnges for part of a widening debate - a future of work dichotomy, that I don’t think will be fixed by policymakers, but will become a pivotal leadership issue for CEOs and their top teams, as they wrestle with falling productivity, lower engagement and faltering talent retention.

In the UK, hybrid, remote and flexible working is wildly popular.  Now that statement alone covers a huge spectrum of patterns, modes and nuance, but my concern is mainly focused on the remote dimension: being mainly apart, independent, elsewhere.  Remote may be popular, but that doesn’t mean it does no harm. I have written before that the predominance of remote work risks being like smoking in the 1970's: wildly popular, considered to be cool, but with long-term unforeseen harms.

I fully expect the comments to flow, with the myriads of well-being and other benefits that remote work provides.  Many commentators, researchers and consultants on here riff wonderfully on the remote “upside”.  But I would offer instead, not a business view, but that of an eminent sociologist.

Pierre Bourdieu said: “The existence of connections is not an natural given, or even a social given…it is the product of an endless effort at institutions.”  If our great employers do not prioritise the importance of creating and maintaining social capital, then it would seem, in the UK at least, that governments will not either.

And you? The Rebellion or the Death Star?    [Join the debate and other movie analogies are available]

Is remote-working the tobacco of the 21st Century?

I wrote a few months ago that remote working could turn out to be the tobacco of the early 21st century. Some thought I’d overstated the point.  But just because something is popular, and widely enjoyed by millions, doesn't mean it does not have unforeseen consequences.

Now research shows that loneliness “has the same effect as 15 cigarettes a day in terms of health care outcomes and health care costs”.  Loneliness should be “as important to managers, CFOs, and CEOs as it is to therapists”, according to the authors in HBR (see below).

When I wrote my book GLUE, it was off the tail of social distancing, lockdowns, and many millions "furloughed". As government restrictions ended, many cried freedom from the commute, and a new working paradigm was borne called “hybrid”.  According to the Office for National Statistics (ONS), working apart from one another has never been more popular with 44% of Brits now working from home.  Hybrid work is hugely popular, with even the same ONS staff threatening industrial action for being required to return to the office 2 days a week.

But where is the social capital, the all-important “glue” created through personal relationships and close connection with others?  If we glimpse into the future, in South Korea and Japan, ahead of the game in working from home, loneliness risks become a kind of social epidemic, with Japan struggling with over 1 million “hikikomori” - extremely lonely people.

I'm not advocating blunt return to work mandates, five days of commuting and the banning of Zoom calls. But I do think business leaders should be mindful. The more enlightened entrepreneurs of the industrial revolution built houses, hospitals, schools, parks and churches, that brought workers together. We can sneer at the past from the suburbs, but for those left in the decaying cities, they are both connected and yet disconnected like never before. Leaders can still do something about it.  Invest again in great workplaces. Give employees a reason to reconnect (not just plug and play at a workstation) and make being together meaningful again.

What do you think?  Did I overstate the worry about disconnection being like tobacco? Should I lose my Victorian frock coat and get with the vibe of technological marvel that is 21st century work?

The Harvard Business Review Article is here: https://hbr.org/2018/03/americas-loneliest-workers-according-to-research?

Why leaders should think like Music Producers

Someone wise once told me that there are only two good ideas in the world at any one time, and that somebody else is already using yours.  That reality of that struck me profoundly, at the end of 2017, when after five years of heroically failing to raise enough funding for an original screenplay project called Leicester Square, I sat back in a recliner seat in a cinema in the very same named square in London. 

I watched, open-mouthed, a new movie called The Greatest Showman.  I checked off the beats.  An evocative period setting, a flawed but enigmatic hero, an entrepreneurial struggle, a romantic scene on a swing, a femme-fatal love interest,  an amazing creative project, a devastating fire, and, at last, a chance of redemption.  All beats ticked.  Other than Showman’s use of original songs, it felt like watching a version of my original idea writ large on a screen.  Of course, there is nothing uniquely original about the beats of either story, but only one of them got made, and The Greatest Showman grossed over $400 million dollars!  The option for Leicester Square reverted back to me over a decade ago, and the screenplay still gathers dust on a shelf behind me as I write this.  Why this self-indulgent tale, and what relevance for The OA newsletter?  Because creativity really matters, but it does not need to be wholly original, for it to make an impact.  

Creativity is not the preserve of the entertainment industry, being an essential ingredient of the enterprise, stimulating innovation and performance. Enormously successful organisations like Apple, Alibaba, Nvidia, Netflix, Amazon, and Tesla  have found new ways to invent and reinvent.  In a noisy world of social media, AI and ‘always on’ access to all information and ideas, then the need for leaders and their organisations to continue to be creative has never been more important, nor as difficult.

True originality is a myth

True originality and breakthrough creativity are extraordinarily rare.  The most challenging human and technological venture of this decade will be to land a person on the moon and return her or him safely to earth. But the same fantastical goal was the focus of NASA’s endeavours over half a century ago.  By any measure, it looks again an ambitious project, with a subtle modification.  Artemis 2 is the first human lunar mission since Apollo 17 in 1972 and plans to send four astronauts “around the moon” no earlier than September 2025.  Unoriginally, the new project is again named after a Greek god, this time Apollo’s twin, another divine archer.

Many creative projects are often generic adaptations of proven formulae and well-honed ideas of others from the past.  For over seventy years the pop music charts have been populated by songs based around a “golden sequence” of chords of a major key, following the first, fifth, sixth and fourth in a scale.  So, in C major this would be C, G, Amin, F or in G major it would be G, D, Emin, C.   Knowing that formula is simple; being able to use that formula to create something memorable that packs a dancefloor, enlivens a playlist, or charts on a commercial radio station is another thing entirely.  

The form and formula in business – from new motor vehicles to electronic devices, mobile phones, professional services and management consulting, seldom remains divergent, with distinctiveness rare and eventual coalescence around very similar form factors and propositions.  In 2012, Steve Jobs expressed frustration at what he saw as copying by Android of Apple iPhone features and vowed to go "thermonuclear" in his attempts to stamp them out, but over a decade later, and millions spent on lawyers, the features and form factors are hardly distinct between the different brands.

Away from business, in the world of fine art, it was ever thus. Much art reinterprets, represents, pays homage, or is inspired as a reaction against some other art.  Picasso famously described all great art as theft; arguing that ‘Good artists copy, great artists steal’. Complete originality is extremely rare and much that we see, enjoy and consume, is a clever rehash of existing or old ideas.  [I am flattered that two new books have been recently announced, both about GLUE, but I am not precious to think they will have bothered to read mine]. What is made new is how these ideas are put together, mixed-up, adapted and re-tooled to be made to feel original and special.  Jean-Luc Godard said, “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take things to.” In fact, as I write this, am I simply the writing magpie, collecting scraps of smarts from Picasso, Jarmusch, Jobs or some other sage?

 The Music Producers

Not many business leaders would describe themselves as artists, but they will know the value of harnessing the creative talents of others.  We sometimes talk about a leader as a facilitator, orchestrator, or another musical term “conductor”.  A few years ago, I attended an event at The Union Club in London.  The panellists were all successful music producers, including Trevor Horn (Yes, ABC, Seal, The Art of Noise), Flood (U2, Foals) and Paul Epworth (Adele, Coldplay).  The theme of the seminar was “How do get the best out of an artist?” The conversation was fascinating; with different strategies explored for dealing with giant egos, conflicting personalities, changes consumer taste, complex decision-making, uncertain outcomes and productivity levels. 

Three key learning points about creativity emerged, each as relevant to the business leader as the studio helmsman.

1.     The workplace really matters

Much of the discussion was about the need to find the right place – the right environment, venue or location to unlock creativity.  Even the right chair or sofa or light-fitting seemed to make a difference!  The Producers emphasised the importance of physical environments that foster creativity, whether through changing surroundings or adopting new perspectives. These surroundings were seldom kept static for the whole recording process, shifting the scene, setting and context, as the project developed.  This made me think of the modern office workspace – often the same place, anonymous, uniform, impersonal, bereft of much life when empty (in a hybrid working world) and increasingly unloved.  We need workplaces that lift the spirits, not just denude the soul and we need talents to be brought together in those places, not just accessed from home.

 2.     The importance of creating space

 As well as the importance of the physical environment, the Producers talked about providing psychological or emotional space – literally, ensuring enough room for ideas to emerge. Trevor Horn highlighted the significance of creating an atmosphere that encouraged musicians to innovate and experiment, while he provided the necessary technology and tools for the artists. But he also needed to find the right balance between providing direction and allowing autonomy.  If you are intrigued, Horn’s book “Adventures in Modern Recording” is full of stories that suggest that Horn actually employed more control than his talk of autonomy suggests, but I guess we should judge his approach by the outcomes created, and they were very often quite brilliant.

 3. Producers must practice creativity too

In search of more riches, I spent a few days this month slowly exploring Rick Rubin’s new book The Creative Act: A Way of Being.  Rubin is an American record producer who was worked with Red Hot Chili Peppers, Johnny Cash, Jay-Z, Tom Petty, Weezer, Lana Del Rey, Adele, Kanye and Angus & Julia Stone, to mention but a few.   His book is a beautiful piece of physical art itself and, inside, a thoughtful exploration of creativity, arguing that creativity is an inherent human trait accessible to everyone. 

His book is structured around 78 philosophical musings that delve into the nature of creativity, the role of intuition, and the importance of embracing failure and uncertainty. He asserts that "living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice or you’re not".   

Rubin's own career showcases the power of that creative practice.  His ability to blend different genres and his willingness to experiment have led to the creation of numerous hit records across a myriad of musical styles.  His approach underscores the importance of thinking outside the box and embracing new ideas, not just churning out the same output year after year.  For Rubin, this is not just about leadership, creativity is much more: 

 “It's a fundamental aspect of being human. It’s our birthright. And it’s for all of us”.

 Which left me thinking, if creativity is a fundamental birthright, how do we avoid leaving our creative selves at home, and how do we make it more visible in our working lives, our organisations and our teams?  

Perhaps time to put on a different record? I am sure Rick would approve.

Local Picturehouse dies. No one notices.

We often blithely talk about disruption, innovation and change as irreversible forces, and swap tales of the demise of Nokia, Blockbuster, Kodak, and Toys R Us. But now a wave of change is swamping theatrical cinema, and this time it feels more personal! Will cinema survive a world of streaming, social-media and nanosecond attention spans? If an Art Deco gem in a borough with some 400,000 residents can be shuttered, what hope for small towns, art-houses and niche theatres? The Picturehouse in Bromley was lovingly restored and when it reopened it had a vibrant kitchen/bar, a Bowie montage, quiz nights hosted by a local media celeb, and the promise of more to come. It’s now being shuttered with no real sense (anymore) of what a community would do with a well-kept theatrical space. The local theatre (council owned) is also up for sale and its future seems uncertain.

The Corona Lockdowns kicked the stuffing out of cinemas (and much else) and then the film studios themselves decided to engage a whole new germination of writers and producers who failed to tell compelling engaging stories, building gloomy narratives around identity politics and progressive themes, rather than making cinema a fun escape from the nonsense of day to day life. Whither Raiders, Top Gun, The Matrix or LOTR? Maybe only 'mega-screens' and iMax will survive? Queuing round the block in the 70's and 80's seems a hazy distant memory. I wrote before about that queuing experience for Star Wars outside the Odeon in Bradford (also now still boarded-up). Those were the worst of times, but maybe in their way, some of the best.

Australia is extraordinary - I hope they keep it that way

I am just got back from a trip to Australia. I had never been before, so the time, distance and investment all felt very “bucket list” and my anticipation was high.

Anyway, the major east-coast cities were great. Melbourne is gloomy, dark and wet in the winter, but somehow glamorous, it’s central business district like upper east side New York, and nearby St Kilda’s, like an upmarket English seaside resort, busy being repainted and spruced up for warmer days. The food, places to stay and hospitality was terrific and a short look round Melbourne Business School was fun and eye-opening on how things can look and feel so familiar when so far from home.  I had supper with some SEP alumni which was both fun and very generously given. Genuine, lovely people.

Sydney is a smart world-class monster city, with every iconic building lit up in neon at night. It also offered at trip to the NRL State of Origin Game One, with 80,000 other souls, which was sport-fan bucket-list life affirmation with nobs on.  Brisbane was the best mix – with huge and impressive shiny towers, framing a riverside endless ‘Southbank’, of cafes, parks and eateries, that made the weekend there feel way too short, while the citizens seemed at most in no hurry. The city will host the Olympics in 2032 and my guess is that will pay back hugely for the reputation of what is already a very attractive city.

But it was away from the cities that Australia came alive and vivid for me. It’s a massive country. The bus from Cairns to Airlie Beach – described in the guidebook as “just along the coast, in the same state” - took 11 hours to drive.  We flew over and swam on the Great Barrier Reef.  I have never been so exhilarated, awed and humbled in one trip. It’s beautiful and fragile, and the sea-life there is like swimming amongst the cast of Finding Dory, but it’s also vast - over 1,000 miles long and visible from space.

We spent much of the last week in Noosa Heads, which has a National Park where you wander through trees and look down to idly watch turtles, dolphins and whales (yes, whales!) pass along the coast.  Along the path, they have set up wooden seats and tables, so locals can “work from home”, or “work from paradise” I think it should be better known.

The whole trip was astounding. Australia still looks and feels like it’s just come out of the 1980’s - shiny and new and still being emboldened for a bigger role in the world. But the vibe, the constant proximity to so much wildlife in every street, cafe and garden is wonderful, and the “no worries” culture makes conversation, planning and thoughts about the future refreshing and uplifting. And “no worries” doesn’t make the place sloppy or thoughtless (the customer care was as good as I have known) but it is also not circumspect about how good things are, and allows you to be joyful and proud of the place as well.  Leaving some cynicism behind at customs check felt like a relief.  I guess there are a myriad of problems like any country, but they seemed easier to talk about than experience, and many felt somehow to be “down the track”, not quite yet confronting or endemic.

I am now back in London. We have a general election result just announced. There's a lot going on. Lots of noise. Discord abounds. Less a case of “no worries” and more a case of “more worries”.  Given that, do I double-down on yesterday, or embrace new things? Do I sink or swim?  A lot to think about, at least until I have time to plot some way to return. Like a boomerang, hopefully caught somewhere on an endless white-sand beach.

Why the Side Hustle Matters So Much

I was delighted to contribute to some ideas to ‘I”, the IMD thought-leadership journal, on the importance of the side-hustle. The evidence is growing that the nature of work is not only now determinedly hybrid, but organisations are being staff with blended networks of different types of employees, affiliates, consultants and gig workers. But even amongst those contracted to an employment entity, staff are increasingly finding their most productive, enjoyable and fulfilling hours at work are AWAY from their main employer. I conducted a survey amongst my network and found that over two-thirds of respondents, many of them senior managers in large, well-known companies, are actively working on something “elsewhere” from their normal day jobs.

The article linked HERE explains the vast scope and growth the of the “hustle”, why that matters, and what employers should do about it. Thanks IMD for sharing and providing another ‘future of work” idea.

The Blue Nile strikes a potent chord for Taylor Swift

So the world’s biggest superstar Taylor Swift has just released a mammoth break-up album, with the Morrisey-esque title, The Tortured Poets Society.  Her new record is “inspired” (if that is the right term) by two deep, heart-breaking and over-wrought love affairs with two of the finest of the male species - British men; an actor called Joe Alwyn, whom she was with for six years, and then Matty Healy, the lothario frontman of The 1975.

Despite it being only “on” for two months in April and May last year, the Healy fling seems to have made quite an impact on Swift.  I had known for some time that Healy was a massive The Blue Nile fan.  You just have to listen to Somebody Else by 1975 and and it’s unmistakably a Blue Nile song.  So it was no surprise that fans quickly connected the Healy break-up with a reference in her new song “Guilty as Sin?” where she sings about “fatal fantasies” for someone from her past who sends her the 1989 song “The Downtown Lights”…with 1989 notable as her year of birth and the name of her best album to date.

Now Swift moves merch and units like no one else on earth and I predict The Blue Nile will have a massive resurgence of interest after this and I would not be surprised if Swift now covers one of their songs, at least live - like she did memorable with Kim Carnes’ Bette Davis Eyes. It would belatedly drag The Blue Nile from being an obscure niche hifi lovers’ treasure into the music mainstream. I doubt though they will much care though. The Scottish tourist board once murdered their song Happiness with an injudicious edit, dropping the word Jesus, as the source of Paul Buchanan’s joy, and the Downtime Lights has already been covered by fellow Scots Rod Stewart and Annie Lennox.  The only decent cover of The Blue Nile remains Craig Armstrong’s orchestral arrangement of Let’s Go Out Tonight, with an even more doleful and emotionally exhausted vocal by Buchanan.

I fell in love with the Blue Nile after an introduction from a Glasgow friend Eric Bradley.  He pointed me towards A Walk Across the Rooftops in about 1992 and the rest just fell into place. Their records have signposted just about every special moment in my life since - all the highs and lows - and now as I write this, my 22-year old daughter is celebrating a birthday abroad, with Swift’s new record on repeat, inspired by the same.  The Blue Nile are famously un-prolific and sparing in their sharing of genius - producing just four albums, about 30 songs in total, over 35 years. I dug out the lyrics to Downtown Lights.  Wow, Buchanan can sing - his voice and intonation is sparse, throaty and whispery, but on The Downtown Lights he also wrote his most evocative lyrics.   Just try:

“The neon's and the cigarettes,
Rented rooms and rented cars,
The crowded streets, the empty bars,
Chimney tops and trumpets,
The golden lights, the loving prayers,
The coloured shoes, the empty trains,
I'm tired of crying on the stairs,
The downtown lights.”

And you can see how it might have struck a chord with Miss Swift.  If she could ever write a lyric like that then the world would be an even more amazing place than it already is. The fact that her new record’s genesis was borne out of receiving a song by a Glasgow band from the 1980’s - who still matter and move new audiences means a lot to those of us who have been there before.  

As a footnote, I saw The Blue Nile play once, in 1997 at The Albert Hall.  I managed to find a clip of that concert online.  Audio only, but you can absolutely tell in the performance that Buchanan was committed to every single syllable of what he was singing. 

A kind of commitment that clearly struck a chord with Miss Swift.

 

I could not have hoped for more in early '24

The first three months of the year are typically a professional and personal slog, and things brighten after that. I am not with curmudgeon TS Eliot, who thought that “April was the cruellest month…stirring dull roots with spring rain.”  I don’t suffer from SAD, but I do often long for the spring, when light mornings, and sudden showers break the monotony of grey dark days and evenings that encroach so soon after lunch. 

This year, the months before spring have been probably the busiest professionally I have ever known, and the serendipity of opportunities, connections and the blessing of reconnection (that has marked much my career) has seemed to reach its zenith in early 2024.  It’s been stretching too, doing new things, creating new material and working with senior groups who are happy to challenge and make me think harder and explore deeper.

In late 2023 my book GLUE was published and after the euphoria and relief of having a substantiated idea not only spell-checked and properly referenced, but beautifully bound and reproduced, and now found in curious hands was quite a moment.  But that, as they say, was only the beginning and the topic and theme seems to have struck a chord with many.

Already this year I have been to Copenhagen, Luxembourg, Hitchen, Windsor, and Oman to talk about GLUE and the need for organisations to re-build cohesion in a hybrid world.  I have done interviews with Scott Newton on Linked-in, a podcast with Michael Glazer for Humans at Work, and a short feature on The Strand Review of Books and a virtual keynote on the very cool and with it TBD conference called ‘Fascia’ with Paul Armstrong.  I had a brief trip to Muscat to speak at the 7th OSHRM Conference. The conference theme was about "sprinting towards the future of work” and I am enormously grateful to   Dr. Ghalib Alhosni and his amazing team.  I learnt so much more than I shared,  including the impact rain has in a dry place, but I guess that's precisely the value of being there in-person.  My take: AI is exciting, but the future of work is still human. Our challenge is to make work better.

Inspired by the trip I wrote a piece (here) for The Organisational Advantage.  The OA newsletter now has almost a 1,000 subscribers and my Linked-in followers tipped over 3,000 in February.  Elsewhere media coverage was found in all sorts of surprising places, including Forbes, Elite Business, HR Magazine and (for me) a ‘bucket list’ feature in Management Today.  I guess 20 years ago that journal meant much more, but it was still quite a moment.  Perhaps the nicest and meatiest feature as a four-page spread on Unusual Leadership which was  featured in EDGE, The Journal of The Institute of Leadership.

In précis: “Unusual leadership should not be underestimated because unusual is rare, and therefore gets noticed.  Being unusual intrigues peers, colleagues and team members and makes leaders more memorable.  It's the kind of leadership that creates glue.”

I have been brilliantly supported by many on this glue creating journey and the chance to create a survey tool - a kind of “glueometer”, has been fun, and I am grateful to the CEO’s and leadership teams who have taken part in the early ‘beta’ tests.  Glue, it seems, has never been more important and yet glue itself has never been harder to cultivate. So my deep respect to the leaders who create strong cohesion, bring disparate talents together and create more meaningful organisations that matter.

Stop-press. GLUE has now been entered into the Business Book of the Year Awards.  The numerous other entries look compelling, including a few which I have already read and enjoyed.  I will let you know how I get on.  In the meantime, as we approach Easter, and a new kind of beginning to the year, may the glue be with you.

Speaking about the future of work in rainy Oman.

I'm just back from a visit to Muscat, Oman as a speaker at the 7th Annual OSHRM Conference, on the theme "sprinting towards the future of work." The city was flooded as I arrived, so much of the city was closed. Being from the UK, there was nothing particularly extraordinary for me about the amount of rain, I guess it’s just the case that rain itself is somewhat extraordinary in Oman, and it makes travel and roads very difficult. Despite this, the organising team did and remarkable and very agile job, bringing a huge group of speakers from around the world to explore AI, disruption, diversity, and the challenges for HR leaders. My thanks to Di Ghalib Alhosni and all the OSHRM team, particularly the volunteers, who were amazing. My take: AI is exciting, but the future of work is still human. Our challenge is to make work better. I got a note from the organisers which made me blush: “Your insights and expertise were invaluable additions to the event, and we received glowing feedback from attendees about the impact of your contribution.” Glowing, I’ll take that and very much hope to return.

The team at OSHRM have shared a video of the presentation. See below [link via You Tube].