Einstein once said if he had an hour to save the world, he’d spend 55 minutes defining the problem and 5 minutes finding the solution. What’s unfortunate is if you research this carefully, you’d find he probably never said that (I, on the other hand, did not research this carefully, but I did Google it and found this article).
What is fortunate is this makes for a great quote that reveals an essential truth about creative thinking: Answers are bad. Questions are good.
Why?
Read on, to see how it worked for Steve Jobs, how it stops photographers in their tracks, and why Jeff Goldblum can save your life.
FOCUSING ON ANSWERS BLINDS YOU TO THE OBVIOUS
Answers are only as useful as the questions they serve. Or, to put it another way, creative thinking isn’t answering questions. It’s asking them. Think about it. How many times have you thought to yourself, “Why didn’t I think of that?” Because you know you could have. But the odds are the reason you didn’t see the obvious is because you didn’t ask the obscure.
Bad questions are stifling. Why? Because all questions are packed with assumptions –horrible, mind-numbing, headache-inducing assumptions – and until you can untangle this morass of evil assumptions, answers have limited value. Worse yet, bad questions are not only packed with the most assumptions of all, but they’re also the first questions to come to mind, so when we set out on solving a problem without taking the time to reframe it, we implicitly accept the status quo instead of taking a fresh look at the issue .
For example, the entire computer industry spent years in the early 2000’s trying to make the tablet work. Why did Steve Jobs get it done, when everyone else couldn’t? Well, yes, sure, because he’s Steve Jobs, there’s that. But the real problem was everyone was asking the wrong question.
The whole industry was asking “How do I stuff a computer into a tablet format?” That was insurmountable, because they had to figure out how to create a machine that could do everything without the physical tools (keyboard, mouse) and space (form factor, screen size) a full computer necessitates. Because of that, what they produced were slow tablets with clunky interfaces that plain sucked.
If Apple had asked the same question, there wouldn’t be an iPad. But that’s not what they asked. Instead, they asked what are the basic features people need when they’re on the go? By asking that, they could let go of all the legacy functions in a full-sized computer and create something that worked exceptionally well for a few specific purposes. Problem solved.
And so it goes in this industry, as well.
Do you need to give out close to a thousand pictures to your clients? And I’m not actually saying you should or shouldn’t. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t – it depends on who you are. But here’s one thing I can guarantee. Asking how many pictures you should give, whether it’s a lot or not is a useless question. How do you even draw a conclusion to that? Research? Ask people? Do an a/b comparison for five years to gather data? Way too hard.
The types of things you’d want to ask is what matters to your clients and why. Or what makes people hire you? Or how you get the results you get? Or, even, if you’re going to insist on focusing on the numbers, then ask ask what types of numbers will get people’s attention and generate more business. Either way, quantity alone won’t get you anywhere without a reason behind it.
HOW PHOTOGRAPHERS SHOOT THEMSELVES IN THE FOOT
And it’s not just a business problem. In fact, asking good questions is the essence of creativity.
Look at the way people typically learn. They see a picture they like. They find out how to replicate it, and they spend the next year shooting everything they can to look just like that. Sometimes the next ten years. Sometimes, the rest of their lives. But asking how to achieve a technique, though a necessary part of the process, is also one of the least important questions to answer. If voice begins when differentiation begins, then asking the same questions as everyone else is the hardest way to get there.
A gaggle of photographers running around in an open field at golden hour shooting the same model might improve some portfolios, but it will do nothing to up their vision. Vision is not technique. It’s not ability. Sure, you need these to execute, but vision comes from somewhere much deeper. A place you find by asking better questions.
The whole reason the greats can run wild, break the rules like twigs, and trample over convention is that they’re solving different problems than everything else. They don’t just say, “How do I reproduce this picture?” They ask “What makes a better picture?” Better yet, “What makes people react?” And they know what their answers are. Ansel Adams was famously technical, but his command of the camera and darkroom always served a greater function – observation and ideas.
Good questions open up possibility and expand thought. They engage you and let you ask even more questions and become more interested. They let your brain make the essential connections to see the world differently. That’s voice. As Jeff Goldblum said in Jurassic Park, “[They] were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.” And that’s what’s essential.
Asking better questions isn’t just a theory to expand your horizons. Asking better questions is a necessity to stand out. It’s a necessity to keep yourself involved in your own business and your own art and your own life. It’s lets you become more, and it’s the activity that most people never bother to do, which means the advantages are vast. So before asking how to do something, ask what the value of that thing is. Otherwise, you wind up getting eaten by dinosaurs.
“Asking good questions is the essence of creativity” I really like that quote there, because it means that we’re not limited to finding our own breakthrough ideas to make a difference, and that by finding inspiration from others, and asking questions that spark even more can fuel the next great thing. Sometimes, as a photographer I feel much like a writer stricken with writer’s block, utterly uninspired, and feeling my creative juices run out as though someone threw open a drain. I’ll take that advice to heart.
Thanks Mathew – well said!
The constant pressure to be creative, technically adequate and yet satisfy the expectations of the client is the most important reason that I wouldn’t try wedding photography. I don’t know if I could have strong enough creative forces to bring them successfully to every wedding. Too many, if not most,wedding photographers seem to find a style, a formula and fall back on that as a relatively certain path – and that’s exactly the kind of photographer I don’t want to be.
I will just go along, doing what I like, and leave the weddings to someone who is better equipped than I.
The article was beautiful, thank you.