"Creative" is a word that connotes activity. When we create something, we bring something into being that did not exist. We sometimes think of creativity as making something out of nothing (the Hebraic tradition), and we sometimes think of creativity as imposing order on chaos (the Greek tradition). In both cases, creativity is the active imposition of our (or God's) will on the world to transform nothing into something.
But that is not the whole story. Vying in our minds with the idea of creativity-as-activity is a contrary notion that locates the source of inspiration outside the conscious mind in some realm "beyond," whether it is the gods (the Muse), the unconscious mind, or even the genetic code. According to this view, the creative person is the passive vessel for the transmission of inspiration from the true source of creative energy to the material world; the creative person is more or less "chosen" and the creative "gift" is beyond conscious control.
These two apparently opposite views of creativity are not as contradictory as they seem. Anyone who engages in creative activity will acknowledge that the creative process has both active and passive phases, although it may be difficult to sort them out during the process itself. It is the interplay between these active and passive elements that constitutes the creative process, and, indeed, makes it a complex process and not just a simple act.
As a firm that develops solutions to marketing communications problems, we spend most of our time doing work that is described as being "creative." Our existence as a business depends on our ability to consistently come up with fresh and effective ideas and products that help our clients achieve their goals. But as important as creativity is to our company, we don't spend a lot of time talking about it. We believe that if the focus is on the problem at hand, "creativity" will take care of itself. William Zinsser, author of On Writing Well, remarked that the worst writing occurs when the author sets out to "commit an act of literature" and the same might be said of the designer setting out to be "creative" (accompanied, no doubt, by a flourish of trumpets). It is usually pretty easy to identify work that is trying too hard to be creative and ends up just showing off how smart the designer is. But the path between genuine creativity and clever posturing is extremely narrow, and not everyone will agree about where it runs.
Creative people are sometimes uncomfortable talking about creativity because they believe that too much self-consciousness will inhibit the flow of ideas. There is a certain degree of mystery about the sources of inspiration, and it is not a good idea to spook the Muse. (W.H. Auden once remarked that he had never undergone psychoanalysis because he feared that in chasing away his devils he might scare off his angels as well.) But this idea of creativity as "grace" can be misleading if it is taken too far. Though we hear tales of "Eureka!" experiences - from Archimedes in the bathtub to Newton under the apple tree - the moment of discovery is only a brief phase in the overall creative process. Of course, Archimedes and Newton were both exceptionally smart to begin with, but they also had spent years prior to their respective peak experiences thinking about the fundamental laws of mechanics. To focus on the moment of insight as the essence of creativity is like attributing the felling of a tree to the final stroke of an ax.
Creative people work hard to invent or discover solutions to problems, and they sometimes resent the implication that their insights are, in some sense, a gift. This is not to say that people do not have different capacities for creativity. Talent, intelligence, and sensitivity are important ingredients in determining the quality of the creative product and the particular ways in which creativity is expressed. As any creative person knows, however, it is the capacity for concentrated effort that is the critical ingredient in any creative activity. And it is this hard work, this effort of will, that often gets left out when creativity is being discussed. Those who view themselves as creatively-impaired view their handicap as attributable to some lack of god-given ability, but too often what is missing is the willingness or the discipline to challenge conventional ways of looking at a problem.
A few years after I graduated from design school I was invited back to talk about my work experiences, and particularly how my education had prepared me for the profession of graphic design. One student asked if I could identify the most important thing I learned as a student. Although I had never thought of it before, the answer came to me at once: confidence. This is not the confidence that means "I have been to school, so I have learned the correct solution to every problem." Rather, it is the confidence that if I apply myself to understanding a problem, a solution will eventually reveal itself (hopefully before the deadline!). It is a confidence not in content, but in a process, a confidence that can tolerate not knowing the solution immediately.
If we have so much confidence in the creative process, what exactly is this process? And, more to the point, how we creative-types come up with all our great ideas? I have already mentioned some of the factors that enter into the process - research and concentration (the active mode), confidence and patience (the passive mode). In our office we have very specific techniques for stimulating ideas that take advantage of the fact that we are a group and not just a single individual. On larger projects we hold one or more brainstorming meetings in which the project director presents the brief to the participants and then records every idea or thought put forth, regardless of how irrelevant, impossible, or ridiculous it may seem. The sessions are open to everyone in the office - designers, interns, accountants - and it is important that all ideas be considered and judgments about the merit of any idea be totally suspended. Later, the project team sorts through the notes from the session, selects ideas that make sense, and then moves on to develop prototypes.
These sessions often yield wonderful and surprising results, and often the best ideas come from "non-creative" staff. Sometimes the problem is completely redefined, or what was perceived as a weakness in the client's image is transformed into a strength. Here are a few examples of admissions marketing projects where the solution emerged from a re-definition of the problem:
Design is considered by most clients as something which is added to a document to give it polish and credibility, to convert it from being a document into being a publication. In this view, design is nothing more than surface styling, charming in its effects, but clearly an option that can be omitted if the price gets too steep. (Sadly, many graphic designers have contributed to this view of their profession by abdicating their responsibility to understand their clients' needs and the hard requirements of the marketplace.) But if the designer is not brought into the process until the key decisions already have been made, the only thing left to do is decorate the pages with the latest fashion in typographic detailing and position the photographs that the client already has on file. But, as I hope the cases above illustrate, real creativity begins with defining the marketing problem and building a solution or a family of solutions from a correct statement of that problem. This is hard work and not very sexy. It requires that the creative team (and that includes the client!) put aside all their assumptions about the appropriate solution and focus instead on the relationship between the core messages and the audience's needs and desires. Once the ground has been cleared, it is possible to lay the foundation of a truly effective communications plan.