“Orbiting is responsible creativity: vigorously exploring and operating beyond the Hairball of the corporate mindset – all the while remaining connected to the spirit of the corporate mission.” GORDON MacKENZIE
Occasionally, I’ll re-read Orbiting the Giant Hairball by Gordon MacKenzie to get my creative juices flowing. Gordon was a 30-year employee of Hallmark Cards who started as a sketch artist and evolved into a self-styled, creative guru with the title “Creative Paradox.” His book is filled with quirky drawings and inspiring tales of soaring above and around the corporate quagmire he calls the Giant Hairball (the tangled, impenetrable mass of accepted models, patterns and standards). To orbit around the Hairball is to find a place of balance where you benefit from the physical and intellectual resources of an organization without becoming trapped in its bureaucracy.
My favorite story concerns one of his journeys around the Hairball – a proposal to establish and head a new department within the Creative division called the Humor Workshop. Much to his surprise and delight he was given a green light, told to select 12 artists and writers and submit a budget. Meeting with each of the candidates separately, he said:
“Pretend that the 13 of us are all quitting our jobs at Hallmark. Pretend we are pooling our money and starting a creative studio called the Humor Workshop. Hallmark will no longer be our employer, but will, rather, be our client, our sole client. Because we are now on our own, we can design our environment any way we want. Fantasize what our studio would be like. Conjure in your mind a place so wonderful that, even on weekends, it would be the place you would choose over any other. Now then, tell me. What would this place be like?”
Strangely, almost everyone suggested antique rolltop desks. With a corporate checkbook in hand, Gordon and an in-house architect named Donna went antique shopping. Rather than the sterile gray cubicles that blighted Hallmark, Gordon told Donna he wanted each person to have their own, personal territory and sense of privacy without cutting everyone off from everyone else. Donna responded with an orbiting moment in the form of a brilliant concept. To tie in with the desks, they bought an array of stained-glass windows and old doors with beveled glass. Using hefty hemp rope, they hung the windows and doors from the ceiling to establish private – yet open – workspaces. For variety, they hinged together two or more doors to function as privacy screens. The fantasy was materializing. Everyone was ecstatic and flying high. Then Gordon got sucked into the Hairball.
One afternoon, while antiquing for accessories, Gordon spotted a couple of old milk cans. He thought they would make charming wastepaper baskets. Eleven more were found in the store’s basement, and a price was negotiated. The following week, Donna called Gordon and told him to meet her in Purchasing – NOW! Upon arrival, they were ushered into a room with five, solemn-faced bureaucrats. One of them said:
“We’ve been watching your recent flurry of purchase requisitions and are puzzled by one of them, the 13 milk cans. What exactly do you need with 13 milk cans?”
Gordon went to great lengths to explain the concept of the Humor Workshop and their unconventional environment and décor. Not looking up from her notebook, one woman responded:
“These items are not on the list of approved furniture.”
Gordon explained again, and it was agreed that Hallmark needs desks, windows and doors. But milk cans? The response was the same:
“These items are not on the list of approved furniture.”
Then Donna had another orbiting moment. She said:
“Hallmark has a corporate art collection. Why don’t we classify all these things as antiques, buy them for the art collection and lend them to the Humor Workshop?”
The woman looked up, smiled brightly and said:
“What a great idea.”
The experience taught Gordon a new survival strategy for remaining in orbit:
Any time a custodian of a system stands between you and something you want or need, your challenge is to help that person discover a means, harmonious with the system, to meet your need.
EPILOG
For the first few weeks following its opening, the Humor Workshop experienced a continuous stream of “tourists” from other departments to see if there was any truth to the rumors of a funky new enclave plunked down in their sea of gray. Although there was almost unanimous delight in the offbeat haven, there were complaints about the perceived lavish spending of corporate funds. One division vice president grumbled, “You can’t justify spending the kind of money it must’ve taken to build this Taj Mahal!”
Wrong!
The sterile, assembly-line cubicles, standard at Hallmark, at the time, cost $4,200 per person. The cost for the free-spirited, innovative workstations in the Humor Workshop was just $3,500 a piece. They had created a richer, more supportive environment for less money. What the disapproving vice president saw as troubling evidence of wasteful spending was, in fact, the dividends of prudent ingenuity … and orbiting the Giant Hairball.
AFTERWORD
One reason I enjoy this story is that I likewise find a workspace filled with unique objects, old books and antique furniture creates a tranquil environment conducive to inspiration and creativity. Besides two barrister bookcases, my studio employs a refurbished farm table for a workstation and a 1930s library table as a writing/drawing desk. I also surround myself with old family photographs.
