Steering into Happy Accidents
Don’t Be Afraid to Get a Little Peanut Butter on Your Chocolate, or a Little Chocolate in Your Peanut Butter.
There was a TV ad campaign back in the ’80s that portrayed Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups as the result of some kind of happy accident.
In the spots, one character would be strolling along, engrossed in a huge bar of chocolate. Around the corner, another character would be snacking from a jar of peanut butter. (Of course, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone walking around an office feasting on spoonfuls of peanut butter from a jar, but let’s suspend disbelief for just a moment longer.) Anyway, at the corner, the two snackers – and their snacks – collide.
“Hey, you got your chocolate in my peanut butter,” moans one.
“You got your peanut butter on my chocolate,” whines the other.
Not fazed by the random cross-contamination, each person takes a bite of the new chocolate/peanut butter mash-up and a new taste sensation is born. The point, perhaps, is that no sensible person would ever think to blend chocolate and peanut butter. The only plausible explanation was an accident.
Get the Pigeons Out of Their Pigeonholes
What got me reminiscing about this ad campaign was stumbling across an old article in the Personal Journal section of The Wall Street Journal (“The Most Awkward Meeting”). The article is about elevator technology that can sort employees in a building according to their security badges. Employees who share a floor are corralled onto the same elevator. Executives are sequestered from the “rank and file” and shot directly up to their top floor suites.
A benefit of such a system is increased efficiency, but a downfall, I think, are all the missed opportunities that can arise when you mix different kinds of people in random ways. One loss is the famed “elevator speech.” I’m sure C-suite occupants are subjected to bizarre pitches and awkward moments with employees all the time, but isn’t it worth hearing what’s on people’s minds? Who knows, maybe there’s a young go-getter out there with a fabulous idea. The elevator may be her chance to shine through the bureaucracy.
This trend of grouping and isolation goes beyond elevators. Technology seems to be trying to pigeonhole us more and more all the time. Think back to the ’80s when you might have seen that classically goofy Reese’s ad. There were only three major networks. The television was like a large national campfire. The next day in the office, there’s a good chance that those who actually watched TV had common experiences.
With a few exceptions, TV these days is less national campfire and more pocket lighter. If you want comedy, there’s a channel for it. If you like sci-fi, there’s a channel for that. Music, sports, independent film, history, cooking … they all have their own channels. Even golf has a channel!
Viewers no longer have to be exposed to things outside of what they think their interests are. Although there are some benefits to this specialization, I think we lose the blessings of surprise, of the happy accident, of being exposed to fresh ideas from other disciplines and from other points of view.
Although I’m the type of person who can sit next to you on an airplane for three hours and never even see what you look like, I’m often gratified when a fellow passenger strikes up a conversation. It’s a rare moment of warmth in a crowded and sometimes cool world. It’s also a chance to see things a different way or to learn something new. These are key to creativity, innovation, community and self-evaluation, and who couldn’t use a little of all those things?
Although I’m pretty content with my big bar of chocolate, it’s the happy accident that encourages me to force myself into the land of the peanut butter eaters.