• Hi, I’m Brad Abare

  I'm a make-it-happen guy working with big idea people. I design teams and orchestrate strategy so that great ideas I believe in get done.
  
  I am Jamaica's husband, Foursquare's comm director, Personality's founder, and a catalyst for CFCC.
  
  
• Search for:

• Archives (by category)

  Select Category Abare News Big Ideal Brad Works God, Faith & Spirituality Hot Topic Inspiration Leadership Life’s Journey Media Politics Rant Reading Room Stuff I Like The City Wisdom

• Archives (by month)

  Select Month May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 October 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003

• Recent Comments

  • Mens anatomical underwear. on Successful Market or Successful Mark
  • raft on Lessons from Pimco
  • Michael Buckingham on Foursquare Convention 2010
  • Brewster on The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
  • Matt Mikalatos on Imaginary Jesus by Matt Mikalatos

• Subscribe

  Add my RSS feed to your reader.

Seth Godin’s latest book, Linchpin, is like reading the expanded version of Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art. In my mind, both books can be summed up in one word: Ship.

Real artists, real geniuses, know how to ship. They know how to get things done. They don’t sit around waiting for the right circumstances. They don’t use their current resources as a justification for stability. Godin calls these special people linchpins. “Every organization needs a linchpin, the one person who can bring it together and make a difference.” “The problem,” says Godin, “is that our culture has engaged in a Faustian bargain, in which we trade our genius and artistry for apparent stability.

Linchpin, says Godin, “is a book about love and art and change and fear. It’s about overcoming a multigenerational conspiracy designed to sap your creativity and restlessness. It’s about leading and making a difference and it’s about succeeding.” I would have said the same thing about The War of Art. Pressfield calls the enemy “The Resistance.” Godin calls the enemy the “Lizard Brian.” So if you’re looking for the short version of Linchpin, really, read The War of Art.

The following are my highlights from Godin’s latest gem.

If you make your business possible to replicate, you’re not going to be the one to replicate it. Others will. If you build a business filled with rules and procedures that are designed to allow you to hire cheap people, you will have to produce a product without humanity or personalization or connection. Which means that you’ll have to lower your prices to compete. Which leads to a race to the bottom. Indispensable businesses race to the top instead.

When your organization becomes more human, more remarkable, faster on its feet, and more likely to connect directly with customers, it becomes indispensable.

Every successful organization has at least one linchpin; some have dozens or even thousands. The linchpin is the essential element, the person who holds part of the operation together. Without the linchpin, the thing falls apart.

“Real Artists Ship” When Steve Jobs said that, he was calling the bluff of a recalcitrant engineer who couldn’t let go of some code. But this three-word mantra goes deeper than that. Poet Bruce Ario said, “Creativity is an instinct to produce.”

Spend hours on obsessive data collection. (Jeffrey Eisenberg reports that “79 percent of businesses obsessively capture Internet traffic data, yet only 30 percent of them changed their sites as a result of analysis.”)

It’s interesting to say it out loud. “I’m doing this because of the resistance.” “My lizard brain is making me anxious.” “I’m angry right now because being angry is keeping me from doing my work.” When you say it out loud (not think it, but say it), the lizard brain retreats in shame.

The art of challenging the resistance is doing something when you’re not certain it’s going to work.

Bre Pettis wrote this manifesto on his blog:
1. There are three states of being. Not knowing, action and completion.
2. Accept that everything is a draft. It helps to get it done.
3. There is no editing stage.
4. Pretending you know what you’re doing is almost the same as knowing what you are doing, so accept that you know what you’re doing even if you don’t and do it.
5. Banish procrastination. If you wait more than a week to get an idea done, abandon it.
6. The point of being done is not to finish but to get other things done.
7. Once you’re done you can throw it away.
8. Laugh at perfection. It’s boring and keeps you from being done.
9. People without dirty hands are wrong. Doing something makes you right.
10. Failure counts as done. So do mistakes.
11. Destruction is a variant of done.
12. If you have an idea and publish it on the Internet, that counts as a ghost of done.
13. Done is the engine of more.

The habit that successful artists have developed is simple: they thrash a lot at the start, because starting means that they are going to finish. Not maybe, not probably, but going to. If you want to produce things on time and on budget, all you have to do is work until you run out of time or run out of money. Then ship. No room for stalling or excuses or the resistance. On ship date, it’s gone.

By forcing myself to do absolutely no busywork tasks in between bouts with the work, I remove the best excuse the resistance has. I can’t avoid the work because I am not distracting myself with anything but the work. This is the hallmark of a productive artist. I don’t go to meetings. I don’t write memos. I don’t have a staff. I don’t commute. The goal is to strip away anything that looks productive but doesn’t involve shipping.

Attempt to create only one significant work a year. Break that into smaller projects, and every day, find three tasks to accomplish that will help you complete a project. And do only that during your working hours. I’m talking about an hour a day to complete a mammoth work of art, whatever sort of art you have in mind. That hour a day might not be fun, but it’s probably a lot more productive than the ten hours you spend now.

I’m trying to sell you on the idea of building a platform before you have your next idea, to view the platform building as a separate project from spreading your art. You can work on the platform every day, do it without facing the resistance. As the platform gets bigger and stronger, you get to launch each idea a little farther uphill. It’s not easy to get to this point. A valuable platform is an asset, one that isn’t handed to you. It takes preparation and effort to set the world up so that your ideas are more likely to ship. But that’s effort that the resistance won’t be so eager to sabotage. By separating the hard work of preparation from the scary work of insight, you can build an environment in which you’re more likely to ship.

Power used to be about giving, not getting. In the linchpin economy, the winners are once again the artists who give gifts. Giving a gift makes you indispensable.

One of the factors in the growth of the Protestant Reformation was that commercial interests supported its spread because they needed the moral authority to lend and borrow money. It’s hard to overestimate how large of a shift this led to in the world’s culture and economics.

The new church was looking for political support, and its embrace of mercantilism guaranteed that it would get that support from power brokers that had chafed under the Catholic Church’s opposition to the practice of charging interest and the commercialization of formerly common lands.

For the last five hundred years, the best way to succeed has been to treat everyone as a stranger you could do business with.

Instead, we profit most when we make the first and third circles as big as we can. Generosity generates income. This works whether you are selling paintings or innovation or a service.

Five traits that are essential in how people look at us: Openness, Conscientiousness, Extra-version, Agreeableness, and Emotional Stability.

They exert emotional labor and they make a map. Those contributions take many forms. Here is one way to think about the list of what makes you indispensable:

1. Providing a unique interface between members of the organization
2. Delivering unique creativity
3. Managing a situation or organization of great complexity
4. Leading customers
5. Inspiring staff
6. Providing deep domain knowledge
7. Possessing a unique

Some fancy marketers might call this a positioning statement or a unique selling proposition. Of course, it’s not that. It’s a superpower.

The Foursquare Convention has been taking place every year for more than 75 years, and the first time I attended was in 2002, in Denver, Colorado. I had no idea that the very next year I would be part of the team to help produce it. Every year since then, my team and I have taken on more and more responsibility for this annual event. I’m not one for monotonous repetition so what keeps this interesting is that it’s a new canvas every time. It’s always in a new city (San Francisco, Chicago, Washington DC, Jerusalem, etc.), and the schedule, theme and content make way for plenty of creative voice.

Although the Foursquare Convention is an event for leaders, it’s different from other leadership events. Surveys show that the number one reason people come to Foursquare Convention is for connecting with their fellow tribe. They don’t come for flashy production, big-name speakers or bags of tchotchke. I’m often asked why we don’t produce Convention to be more relevant to other popular leadership conferences. It’s a fair question if you’re a conference junkie or looking for a reason not to come to Convention. However, the main reason I don’t care to be more like them is because that would be contrary to who we are. As Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” Foursquare is a global movement with over 65,000 churches and meeting places located in 141 countries. The annual Convention is quite simply a family reunion.

I’ve had the privilege of working with a variety of senior leadership throughout the years at Foursquare, so my role in producing Convention has always ebbed and flowed with them. For a plethora of reasons, there is a lot riding on my team and me when Convention begins in Atlanta later this month. For the past year, we’ve been praying and planning through all of the details to bring together thousands of Foursquare leaders from over 40 countries. We’re trying things we’ve never done before. Here are a few of the things I’m looking forward to…

Theme
The theme this year–Power of One–has been embedded into everything we’re doing. From the stories we’re telling (8 stories will be told around this theme), to a giant Lego sculpture everyone will build together (one piece at a time), to the music people hear as they enter and exit the main sessions, the Power of One will be everywhere. We started with a list of every touch point someone encounters onsite (registration, workshops, sessions, volunteers, etc.) and tried to work the theme into everything.

New Voices
Because of the diversity of Foursquare, we’re able to tap great communicators from around the globe. This year will be no exception as we hear from several new and mostly undiscovered voices. I’ve personally connected with nearly all of the speakers. I wish you could have seen the emails or listened to the calls. These people are going to bring it. We’re also going to worship with some new voices this year and two young emcees will be leading the entire week.

Schedule
We’ve decreased the length of sessions and eliminated one night entirely. This has made room for more intentional times of connection, especially for several affinity groups. We’re also broadcasting the event live online to allow for those who can’t make it to feel connected to what’s happening in Atlanta.

There are many other behind-the-scenes things we’ve been working on, but the list would bore most. From a business perspective, this will be one of the most cost-efficient conventions in years.

No event happens without the genius of a team. There are dozens of people who deserve a round of applause (and a vacation) for all of the work they put into this. Steve Cauble and Mitchie Sarmiento are the real brains behind everything that happens. The rest of us are along for the ride.

A couple years ago, I wrote a short post about some advice for job seekers. One of the things I said–and it still holds true for me today–is that I want to work with people who want to work with me.

A friend sent me a perfect example of this today, in the form of a YouTube video about The Google Job Experiment.

Brilliant.

I could see this working for getting the attention of many people, not just potential employers.

Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art has been recommended to many several times and I’ve seen it referenced in other books I’ve been reading as well. I can’t believe it took me this long to actually buy a copy and read it. It’s one of the easiest nonfiction books you’ll ever read.

Pressfield writes about the Resistance. That beast that restrains us from everything we should be pursuing. The Resistance is real and, if you’re going to resist it, you better know how it functions, what it looks like and how to kill it. Pressfield shows us the way.

“Rationalization is Resistance’s spin doctor.” “Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do.” “If you find yourself criticizing other people, you’re probably doing it out of Resistance.”

Oh no, I think he’s talking to me.

If tomorrow morning by some stroke of magic every dazed and benighted soul woke up with the power to take the first step toward pursuing his or her dreams, every shrink in the directory would be out of business. Prisons would stand empty. The alcohol and tobacco industries would collapse, along with the junk food, cosmetic surgery, and infotainment businesses, not to mention pharmaceutical companies, hospitals, and the medical profession from top to bottom. Domestic abuse would become extinct, as would addiction, obesity, migraine headaches, road rage, and dandruff.

“As artists and professionals it is our obligation to enact our own internal revolution, a private insurrection inside our own skulls. In this uprising we free ourselves from the tyranny of consumer culture… We unplug ourselves from the grid by recognizing that we will never cure our restlessness by contributing our disposable income to the bottom line of Bullshit, Inc., but only by doing our work.”

“Contempt for failure is our cardinal virtue.”

It’s time to resist the resistance.

It was one year ago today that I wrote my last tweet:

I’m still wrestling with Twitter and its value proposition. I remain decidedly undecided about its role in my future.

The reason I began tweeting in February of 2008 was because I thought Twitter was a new “micro blogging” platform. It was meant to be a place for my short bursts of pithiness to be captured and cataloged, much like a blog, without all the words. Twitter would force me to write using a limited amount of characters which in turn would sharpen my languishing communication skills.

I never gave much thought to people actually “following” me on Twitter because much like this personal blog, from what I can gather, very few pay attention to what I’m saying. This doesn’t bother me because, for the most part, I chose to blog (and tweet) for me, not you. The conversation or community that comes from anything I write–outside of my ‘professional’ writing–is simply an accoutrement. For me, comments, conversations and connections are pleasant additions, not intrinsic motivations.

Twitter quickly turned into something much more than I bargained for. People began replying to things I said, I replied to them, I followed others, and soon I found myself spending more time than I should be participating in a virtual washing machine that seemed to have a never-ending spin cycle.

I love technology and hate it at the same time, especially digital communication platforms. My struggles are no secret.

There is a part of me that still wants to come back to Twitter because it can still accomplish what I originally wanted it to. I’m just a little reluctant because I don’t want to be the guy who is always talking and never listening. The guy who seems more interested in his own thoughts than those of others.

I’m probably thinking about this too much which is clearly a sign of other issues that I have not yet dealt with or medicated.

You may wonder why I would even write a post like this if I’m not writing it for anyone else. I say to you, my unknown anonymous voyeuristic friend, stay tuned. There is much more where this comes from.

Matt Mikalatos is a great writer. His first book, Imaginary Jesus, released last month. It’s a “not-quite-true story” of Mikalatos’ journey to find the real Jesus. From the streets of modern-day Portland to the dusty roads of yesterday’s Jerusalem, Jesus is everywhere, and he’s exactly like you would imagine him to be. Note: This is not good.

With a nod to the personal and laugh-out-loud nature of a Donald Miller book, Imaginary Jesus is a roller-coaster ride. Over the course of 39 very short chapters, Mikalatos encounters a lot of Jesuses. There’s Political Jesus and Peacenik Jesus, King James Jesus and Magic 8 Ball Jesus. There’s Meticulous Jesus and Free Will Jesus, and even a Can’t-See-the-Future-Because-It’s-Unknowable Jesus.

As I read this book, it became abundantly clear that I do exactly as Mikalatos does, sans his over-the-top exaggerated experiences. (Extreme inner-tubing with a hoard of Jesuses anyone?) I’m guilty of transforming who I think Jesus is into who I want him to be in this moment. Unfortunately, my lack of discipline, diligence and delight in getting to know the real Jesus causes me to see Jesus the way I imagine him instead of the way he really is.

If you’re looking for an entertaining book that also confronts and convicts, you can’t go wrong with Imaginary Jesus. The world will be a better place if Matt Mikalatos keeps writing.

Full Disclosure: I do some consulting with the Barna Group, who is the owner of BarnaBooks, the publishing imprint for Imaginary Jesus.

I love the story about the Xerox914 copier. It was the first successful commercial copier, although its success might not have been realized if people listened only to the consultants.

It was the late 1950s and early 1960s. Xerox hired a team of consultants to help them sell the copier to companies with large offices. Companies could use the copier for doing in-house duplication, thus eliminating the time and expense of going outside for routine projects.

Trouble was, the consultants didn’t see the potential in the Xerox914 because their sales strategy wasn’t working. Companies weren’t buying. They thought the best way to get inside a company and sell it was through the mailroom managers. Makes sense. These were the people who had to assemble and distribute large mailings. If mailroom managers had a machine at their fingertips that could help make their job easier, so the consultants thought, they would be the ideal target.

The mailroom didn’t care about the copier.

Turns out, the biggest influencers for the Xerox914 were secretaries. They were the ones typing everything and, if they had to have more than one copy, they’d have to do a lot of typing. The Xerox914 would become their best friend.

Is your idea not gaining the traction you think it should?
Are people not responding?
Are they not buying?

Maybe you’re going after the wrong audience.

Six years ago today, on April 15, 2004, at a funky boutique hotel in downtown Los Angeles, I assembled a group of really smart people I was working with at the time. Some worked for me, others worked with me, and others were people I wanted to be like when I grew up. There were seven of us in the windowless orange and blue room that day, and all of us were there to brainstorm and create an idea that had been brewing long before then.

We had gathered to talk about launching a new idea/project/business for helping churches communicate. For several years, I had been wanting to start another company (separate from what I was doing at the time) that would work exclusively with churches to help them with their design, marketing, copywriting, website, etc. There were very few companies that specialized in this stuff back then, and I felt we could get a jump start and really be the place to go for church communication.

I had no idea our meeting that day in downtown Los Angeles would end up fulfilling that dream to be a significant resource for church leaders. What’s more, today’s fulfillment looks nothing like the plan from six years ago. Go figure.

Instead of building a company that sold products and services to churches (we tried for a brief time), we ended up planting the seeds for a nonprofit, the Center for Church Communication. It has since become home to many projects and experiments, including the Church Marketing Lab, the Church Marketing Directory, the CFCC Job and Freelance Labs, offline meetups and events, and last, but not least, Church Marketing Sucks.

The idea for Church Marketing Sucks was also hatched on that pivotal day six years ago. It originally started out as a book, and we were going to call it Church Marketing Sux. We figured the “x” was a good way to Christianize the word and have a bit of fun. So glad we didn’t go that route! The book idea was quickly dismissed for a blog, which were just starting to gain mainstream momentum. Three months later, on July 22, the first post on Church Marketing Sucks (CMS) went live. We emailed about 50 friends and the rest, as they say, is history.

There are many people to thank that have been a part of this journey throughout the past six years. Without Kevin D. Hendricks, I don’t think any of this stuff would have happened. He was one of the seven in the original meeting, and he has been the engine behind so much of what has been accomplished. He’s invested thousands of hours and most of them have been unpaid. Brian White was the original designer on CMS and helped capture the essence of its personality from day one. Shawn Stewart was also a part of branding and positioning, especially for CFCC. Today, the CFCC team is a concoction of volunteers and low-paid volunteers. Kevin is still a major part of everything. Michael Buckingham came on board in 2006 and Josh Cody joined in 2007. Michael and Josh have been very instrumental in accelerating the growth of CFCC projects. In addition to formalizing a more robust board of directors in 2009, Cynthia Ware joined the team and serves as the executive director for CFCC and all of its projects and experiments.

To the hundreds of others who have contributed, designed, created and collaborated, thank you. CFCC is a community of communicators. We’re all in the together.

What began as a simple idea six years ago has grown into something quite meaningful. I love where God has taken CFCC and where he continues to lead. It’s been fun to play a small part in this story still being written.

Walter Hamilton wrote a great piece about mutual fund giant Pimco for the LA Times Business section this past weekend. This SoCal based company is not the place to work if you’re looking to settle into a career.

The company is just under 40 years old and runs the world’s largest mutual fund (Total Return). They have over $1 trillion in assets with offices around the world. Today, they’re owned by German-based Allianz SE.

I love the culture that Bill Gross, Pimco co-founder, has embedded into the team. It’s a no-nonsense organization with a democratic management style. Every six months, Pimco ranks each of its 1,328 employees. Those who make it to the top 10% will be developed for the future. Those who are in the bottom 90% will take advantage of more coaching and mentoring so they can be groomed for the next review, or end up leaving.

“The capstone to this process is Pimco’s Economic Forum, which brings portfolio managers from around the world together three times a year. They are split into four teams according to geographic region and asked to make 12-month economic projections. The team with the best presentations at the three meetings is awarded the William H. Gross Cup at a fourth gathering in May. Even seasoned investment pros feel pressure.”

Pimco’s relentless daily discipline is one of the secret’s to their success.

At the heart of the system is a weekly meeting where portfolio managers square off in hours-long debates that are a cross between Socratic dialogue and bare-knuckled slugfest. “The group is not shy,” said Mohamed El-Erian [pictured], Pimco’s chief executive. “When someone says something that someone disagrees with, they immediately say, ‘I disagree with that.’ There isn’t an ‘Oh, I’m going to be ultra-polite to you even though you’re saying something silly.’ “For up-and-coming employees, that means coveted opportunities to shine before their high-wattage superiors, but also pressure to show they belong. For the firm, it means leaving no stone unturned in the hunt for the best investments. Every investment decision and economic projection is second-guessed. Scuffed egos are a small price for results.

Hamilton’s article also tells the story of a young emerging-marketings fund manager, Lupin Rahman, the only women in the meeting with Hamilton present. Rahman is not there because of gender or generational quotas, but because she has earned her way into the conversation.

“As the discussion turns to the financial upheaval in Greece, the group looks to Lupin Rahman.”

I was on the phone with a client earlier this week, attempting to schedule a meeting with their key executives. This particular meeting–about 60 days away–requires every “primary stakeholder” to be present in the room. The helpful voice on the other end of the phone was embarrassed to say how difficult it is to find a day when everyone is in the office.

Unfortunately, this situation is not unique. I see it all the time.

I understand the inefficiencies of tying everyone to a desk in the same building. But in a culture where busy people are working from home, traveling the globe and near ubiquitous communication, it’s more important than ever to safeguard the gift of presence.

One of the organizations I work with blocks out three consecutive days per month (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday) in which they require the executive team to be physically present in the office. This is the time when all-staff functions are planned and executive meetings are held. It’s a set time on the calendar that everyone can plan around.

Coming from the guy who hates meetings, I am still a fan of face-to-face moments of connectedness. Call me old fashioned, but I’m convinced they still work.

Next Page →