fiction as a strategist’s superpower

As a strategist, it’s important to source your inspiration and fodder from everywhere: social media, journalism, research platforms, the trades, qualitative, quantitative, the list goes on.

But there’s one resource that I think is wildly underutilized in the world of brand strategy – it’s something we’re introduced to essentially at birth and is endless in the insight and perspective it provides. That resource is books. BOOKS! And specifically, fiction.

There’s immense value to be gained from nonfiction of course. Diving deep into a topic, learning from an expert author, following their lines of thinking and assessing their theses – this will undoubtedly leave you more educated and armed with interesting, relevant insights. But fiction will give you something no research paper or statistic ever truly could: empathy. 

Empathy is crucial to being a good strategist, in my opinion. Our work is to create connections between a business that’s selling something and people – real people – that might buy that thing. The sheer amount of “things” being sold nowadays is overwhelming to say the least. And for the most part, this oversaturation has made customers smarter – they’re experienced buyers and they’re able to detect when they’re viewed as nothing but a dollar sign. 

Brands have the opportunity to treat them as more than that. To connect with them in a way that’s rooted in a true understanding of their reality. Fiction is an invaluable way to tap into these realities.

Books are labors of love — research is completed and worlds are built; characters are developed and sentences are perfected. What results is a story that was invented by an author with the intention of unearthing, exposing, laying bare some kind of universal truth. Novels are a treasure trove of human insight.

For example, The Overstory elicits an overwhelming feeling of awe and wonder for nature – it leaves you with a completely new appreciation for the plants around us. The School for Good Mothers illustrates the bone-chilling anxiety of being a new mom by dramatizing any mother’s worst fears. If you as a strategist are not a nature lover or a new mom but are tasked with a brand for either, these stories give you a glimpse into a perspective that you don’t have, but will be vital in your work.

Hamnet invites us to release our death grip on our perception of historical truth by creating and retelling a “settled” matter from over 500 years ago: Shakespeare. The Giver imagines a world where the messy, colorful beauty of life is stripped away. These lessons can encourage us to question things: “does it really have to be this way?” They can open our minds to new possibilities and connections in our work.

The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois and East of Eden both show us variations of intricate, complex, steadfast family dynamics. They show us how our families shape who we are and the decisions we make, and how those decisions and circumstances impact generations to come. This encourages us to look back into history for inspiration to spur a brand forward.

Through the lens of a Black, enslaved mother, Beloved stands alone in its ability to translate real, visceral pain to the page. Normal People deftly brings to life the simultaneous discomfort and devotion of young love. These give us a glimpse into specific emotions, and how those emotions can echo throughout a life. Entire brands can be built on certain emotions, and in order to do that, they must be deeply and thoroughly understood.

The Heart’s Invisible Furies tells the lifelong story of a man who grows up in the religious, anti-gay, midcentury culture in Ireland, and faces hatred simply for who he loves from birth to death. Betty illustrates a different kind of discrimination as she comes of age in a poor, Native American family. Demon Copperfield explores life in deep Appalachia, the center of the opioid epidemic – it shows what it was like to be on the forefront of that crisis: unheard, unseen, not yet on the minds and hearts of the nation. While these stories are singular examples of the oppression certain groups face, they provide a window into the lived experiences of people whose identities are often dismissed or outright denied. It’s not nearly enough to read a book and think you understand all the intersectionality and nuance, but it can be a small start, a first step to developing empathy.

For each example here, there’s a million more stories that portray unique, multifaceted human experiences.

Inspiration from fiction, in conjunction with the typical rigor you’d apply to your strategy work, can help you zoom out and create from a place of humanity, understanding, and respect. It can complement your research by adding emotion and nuance. It can help you inject real life into the beginning, middle, and end of your strategic process.