It’s funny that we refer to heavyweight designers, directors, or copywriters, when what we do is so far removed from the measurable competition of a fight. I honestly don’t know why it has taken me so long to become aware of this fact, but when I did, it suddenly irritated me even though I had heard it a million times before. I mean do creatives “weigh in”; do they get match fit, and if so how do they maintain their condition? I thought to myself: ‘how dare they use this terminology! they don’t even box’. I was peeved by this until it occurred to me that this was reminiscent of another breed of posturing moron – the source of my irritability came not from receiving the miss-direction of creative-dictators as a young designer, but by the fact that they dared to compare themselves to boxers as opposed to who they really reminded me of:
You ever see the karate coach in the starched white kimono and blitz-black belt? He coaches screaming tykes and gangly teens who he keeps at bay with stern looks and Bruce Lee quotes. Pity him, ‘cos he is a sick man. He is suffering from Sensei Syndrome, AKA Black-belt Disorder. Here’s how it infects: A guy goes to a Karate school to learn to fight and defend himself, and sees whole lot of folks bowing down to the big kahuna. This is a defining moment; a test of his mental immune system. He will think one of two things:
1. “This is obviously all the result of a culture of deep respect, and I too can attain the steely-resolve of a master… blah blah blah, yada yada, wax-on-wax-off (yep – you’ve seen the flick)”, or
2. He can think: “I wanna be such a bad-ass that people will bow down to me, I want people to brown their gi’s at the thought of incurring my martial wrath”.
The latter way of thinking is the first symptom of full blown sensei syndrome, and will develop into chronic, feverish insecurities, and incapacitating fear and self loathing. You see, a person with full blown Sensei Syndrome doesn’t actually want to learn how to fight, he just itches to be intimidating enough so that he never has to. He wants the black belt so that he can hide behind it. For him 5th dan equates to “who da man”! Becoming a sensei will only make him worse – he will have arrived at the door of the dojo of hardcoredom without ever having had his ass kicked. Syndromers tend to be attracted to schools that don’t require them to spar, or at least not spar with anyone who will hit back. If he teaches, he will only ever teach people enough to make them vulnerable to what he knows and they don’t.
“Sensei Syndrome” should not imply that this affliction is specific to karate or even martial arts in general. It should rather be seen as an indictment of people’s ability to corrupt even the greatest establishments and traditions. I am not knocking karate or any martial art, nor am I saying that any art involving belts or grades are bad. But when chasing a title becomes a substitute for tempering technique, you will loose the “art” and will probably become scared of getting “martial”!
Sound familiar? You ever come across a (sm)art (arse) director who seems a bit too full of piss and vinegar to warrant the respect he demands? He’s got an attitude or a snappy comment for every occasion, which usually only serves to direct attention away from the fact that he isn’t actually working. Ever wonder why there is this thing about “finding” inspiration, which usually means leaving things to the last minute? Ever sat up late working on someone else’s vision for a great design that somehow they couldn’t articulate, let alone complete on time? Ever wonder about the drug stigma that is attached to our industry? I’m sorry, but to put it into perspective, “Performance enhancers for creatives” sounds pretty freekin sad. Even more so when you consider that when nose-candy gets wrapped up in professional sport, it’s because a player is badly overwhelmed and needs some powdered confidence. Our industries don’t have enough big-match-temperament to justify taking drugs! Not that anyone should! Ever! …but least of all us!
Creativity is simply a high performance sport. You need to build up to it, you need to enjoy it enough to want to stay in shape. Like athletes, we experience peeks and troughs, we have a threshold for output so down-time is as important as knuckle-time. Imagine if the highest echelons of boxing were becoming a “ring-director”. So somewhere between golden gloves and a title-shot, your promoter lets you step out of the ring and tell younger, fitter boxers how to win a belt that you will take the credit for. Isn’t that a recipe for miserable human beings, (and terrible T.V. matches)? Why are we meant to aspire to having our talents culminate in telling other creatives what to do? For a fighter, talent is not enough. A fighter’s talent has to be signed by fitness, sealed with conditioning and packaged in a tight mental game. It is no different for creatives!
So if you are a young designer, copy-writer, or any other type of creative, remember, like boxing, this is an attributes based game. You could be the tall-fella with reach or the short guy that works crackin’ body shots – so work on your own game. No coach ever tried to get a boxer to fight in somebody else’s style, so as a creative train yours – its bound to be unique and formidable!
Next time you take heat from your art director, it’s because he’s scared, insecure and suffering from Sensei Syndrome. Unlike boxing where he would have to fight you to keep his title, he gets to keep his by telling you off. He only has to talk like a champ instead of fight like one. If you are currently a lightweight, keep on your toes – you are young, fit and dynamic, and my guess is you can outfight any sluggish old ‘director’ who has told you otherwise - make em’ glad this isn’t a real fight, cause pound for pound you know you’d kick his arse!
- and that’s my rant!
Riki
