Books: Creativity, Inc. by Ed Catmull

I wouldn't even have known about this book except I turned the TV on one night, and it's perpetually set to PBS, and Ed Catmull was doing an interview/author talk thing. I was immediately pulled in, so then I knew I wanted to read the book. Which is, I suppose, the whole point of the author book talk thing. Call me a sucker.

Still, I enjoyed reading Catmull's insights. For those who don't recognize the name, Ed Catmull is President of Pixar Animation and Disney Animation. It says so right on the cover of the book. But Catmull has been in this for the long haul, way back before Pixar was Pixar. And Creativity, Inc. charts the workflow of Pixar and later Disney.

This is key: Creativity, Inc. is not a history of Pixar. It's not full of juicy tidbits. Well, it is, but not as many as some readers might be looking for. This book is about building, managing, maintaining a creative workforce. Unearthing the hidden problems and solving them. Engaging the employees so they feel they have a stake in what's being done and so are willing to go all in. Setting up processes that don't box people in and therefore block creative thought.

As a writer, a lot of what Catmull discusses hit home for me. I don't work in an office, but my job is a creative one. And I have my own version of what Catmull calls the Braintrust: my writing critique group. Whenever one of us is stuck on a project, it's time to meet and hash and toss ideas. And also as Catmull points out, we have to remember to focus on the problem and the project, not make it personal. Which, because we have genuine affection for one another, we do.

Genuine affection. Can you imagine working in a place where you have genuine affection among employees? Where people love their work? From the outside, Pixar seems like a fantasy. (I know people who work there, and I'll admit to being a wee bit jealous!) But Catmull is quick to point out it isn't perfect. They have their problems and weaknesses. He talks about the need for people to be candid, which can be difficult. Constructive criticism is required in creative work, but sometimes people don't want to hear the bad news, and just as often people are leery of being the messenger.

Really, Creativity, Inc. is a new kind of management book. In the back is a section called "Starting Points" which more or less boils the rest of the book down into choice thoughts. It's kind of a shame because having that section may encourage people to only read those points and never mind the rest—a Cliffs Notes if you will. But I believe there is value in the text itself, in the anecdotes and examples Catmull gives of problems Pixar (and later Disney) has faced and how they solved them. Mistakes they made, too, which is important to note as well: Creativity is messy and never perfect. Mistakes will be made. Instead of playing the blame game, best to focus on fixing what you can and doing better next time. Mistakes are a learning process, a growing pain.

I've often said the three hardest words to say are not "I love you" but "I don't know." For some reason we see that as weakness or failure. So I really like that Catmull points out how important it is to know what you don't know. Basically, to know when to say, "I don't know" and then follow it with, "but I'll find out" or "I'll learn." The minute a person thinks he (or she) knows everything, he becomes closed. And closed people are boring, and often difficult to work with. They get stubborn and set in their ways. Catmull discusses the "beginner's mind" idea of approaching things with an open mind and a willingness to learn, or re-think what has already been learned.

Likewise, I would hope managers or would-be corporate leaders would read this book with an open mind and a willingness to think about ways to implement some of the suggestions.

On Creativity

I was reading this article on Salon.com and I have to say . . . Isn't it interesting that creatives cannot make a living at their work? If you are not a big-name writer or director or what-have-you, if you are not a member of that elite, then it is unlikely you scrape together many pennies doing what you (I assume) love to do. (And for the purposes of this write-up, I'm talking about people who are artists and/or creative for a living.)

Even the "big" screenwriters will turn up at conferences if it means free food. The creative pool is growing steadily smaller, even as more and more people are trying to jump in. Thing is, as studios get increasingly risk averse, they fish for only the biggest writers, directors, actors. (There are more actors that make big money than, say, writers, but there are still many struggling actors out there in the world, too. These have my sympathy.) What this means is, even screenwriters who once could get steady gigs . . . can't. So they supplement their incomes with appearances.

And there are more and more of these conferences every year, too. The industry is creating its own market. People want to "break in" so they go to conferences. But fewer people are able to break in. So there are more conferences . . . And still fewer results.

You see it with film festivals, too. Every tiny town on the map has a festival now. And with competitions. How many of those are there now? Only a few really mean anything in the industry, but as more and more independents make movies and write scripts and hit walls in Hollywood, more and more towns and . . . whoever the fuck comes up with competitions . . . will take up the slack by luring these hopefuls toward their limelights, rather like will-o-the-wisps leading unsuspecting travelers into a bog.

The Salon article talks about the literature that has sprung up around creativity, books like Imagine by Lehrer (which I have read), and how so many of the books use the same handful of anecdotes to illustrate big creative breakthroughs. The Post-it Note story for one. The Swiffer for another. And is it any different in the writing world (or directing, or other creative endeavors)? The story of the guy who wrote the one big script or novel and sold it for a million? You hear it over and over again, but does it prove anything? Except that it happened once? How about the one in which Stephen King's wife rescues his manuscript from the trash. Okay, but . . . So?

Is creativity valued? Not really. People want more of the same, more of what they already like. Make it a little different, not a lot. And studios and publishers want more of what they can sell, which is predicated on what they've already sold. So more of that, please, for them. (Television is sometimes more willing to take a chance, but that is because they also have more ability to kill a project and cut losses if it starts to go south.)

The only time creativity gets applause is if and when it succeeds. Then it becomes another anecdote for the oft-repeated list. But that's only on the rare occasions creativity is given the opportunity to succeed. Because few people want to take a chance on a book or movie that is truly out of the ordinary. Most really creative work doesn't see much daylight. If the book gets published (even self-published), if the movie gets made by a group of friends working together on weekends, even still the chances anyone will read it or see it are slim. And God help us every time a creative piece fails. Because then the studios and publishers are all the less likely to take a chance on the next screenplay or manuscript that shows originality.

So if there's a class of creatives, we're pretty low in the hierarchy.

Even if you look at people who problem solve creatively . . . Companies get antsy when it's suggested they do something differently. And the more radical the suggestion, the more antsy the company gets. So, no. I don't think creativity is all that valued. Anywhere.

Hindsight, they say, is 20/20. The ideas people eschew today may be seen as invaluable tomorrow. Alas, we can only live in the here and now.