The first fort was a half-fallen-down chicken shack. My childhood buddies and I stumbled upon it while walking through the woods that bordered our neighborhood. By the time my family had moved to the area the official bird of the city had become the Viper Car Alarm, but it hadn't always been that way. Duluth was very rural just previous to the housing explosion that we surfed in on. And it was for this reason that rabid little suburban children, such as us, might happen upon old chicken shacks and turn them into forts.
The first fort was also a death trap. The wood was rotted and plenty of sharp, rusty things jutted out to snag your jeans or neck. From even a casual glance, the limits of the first fort's potential were obvious. Enthusiasm waned.
But then we made a fabulous discovery. The second fort was larger; you could actually stand up in it. It had what appeared to be horse stalls, stairs and a locking door, which is important for securing all the junk artifacts kids find in the country woods. The pickaxe and case of glass jars that we would soon be throwing at trees and each other would be safe from other marauding bands of children.
The second fort was an inspiration. Because it was sturdy, we formulated plans of how to add on. So we added a porch. And a second entrance. And a rooftop shooter's nest where we could shoot BB guns at friends as they approached. We even built a stove that should have convinced our parents that we were all destined to become engineers. That is, if our parents ever found out that we were setting fires in the woods. The stove used an old drum with a fashioned door, an external air input that drew air from outside (instead of pulling through the cracks of the walls), and a insulated metal chimney that exited the exhaust. When you fired it up full blast, it could thaw out Antarctica.
We had old basement furniture from Mike's parents' house but we never really sat on it because you never really sat down. The whole fun of the fort was building. If we didn't know what to build or add on, we built it anyways. And the fort grew into what appeared to be the Swiss Family Robinson's safe house, where they might retreat to if the government ever got on to them for smuggling weapons.
The difference between Fort Version 1.0 and Fort Version 2.1 was that original structure it was built on. Fort 1.0 looked like someone wrecked a burning saloon full of manure into some trees. Fort 2.1 was sturdy and strong, which is important when you are nailing several hundred pounds of "found" construction materials to it.
If some cheesy business executives were wandering through the woods, they might look at the new fort and say we had "really thought outside the box". Then they would be shot with pellet guns and we would smash glass jars in the trees above their heads.
I hate the cliché, "Think outside the box". I think the people who say it don't fully appreciate its meaning and they themselves are thinking inside a box because they have to conform their ideas to lame business clichés. Is not thinking outside the box, thinking beyond constraints like, say, clichés?
I have heard all the fun alternates, like, "Don't box the neck", or, "Don't put your brain in a box". It's fun to play at wit. Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not asking you to fly in the face of this little business pearl. I don't want you to think inside the box, per se. I want you to think inside the fort. Fort 2.1 to be exact.
The reason for 2.1's success was its strong base. We had something with which to start. Sure, the fort took on a much larger life after we nailed tons of particleboard and rusty sheet metal to it. It didn't even look like the same place. Yet all the while, under the surface, sat a strong base built by someone we never met.
Like Fort 2.1, great businesses also have a strong base. They have a root which is securely planted in a particular place. They have an anchor that holds everything else up. And great businesses are always cognizant of their base. Products, services, operations: everything attaches to that secure base.
When was the last time you reevaluated your fort? How strong is it? Can it support the weight of everything you've nailed to it? Is the design consistent and is it functional?
Let's take a look.
Build a shooter's nest first.
It's easy to have your head down over whatever you're nailing only to ignore a pending threat or opportunity. But the front lines of whatever you're building need to be watched. Had we kept our heads up, we might have been able to outrun that sheriff's deputy who came to give us lip over being on someone else's property.
For businesses, it's not always the fuzz (though for an unfortunate few it might be...). Instead, it is a changing market place or a savvy competitor. Sometimes it's even a problem with your own construction that you might never see. Getting a good view of yourself and your surroundings is a continually needed task.
I recommend you have a constant watch of research professionals. Find out what customers are saying. Find out what your biggest critics are saying. Continuously examine the structural integrity of your fort. Nothing is more embarrassing than standing next to a collapse while insisting, "Nothing's wrong".
Build on a hill. If you can't find a hill, build one.
The worst issue I have found in constructing brands and strategies is when companies stand for and own nothing in the minds of consumers. Sometimes I think people get scared when I tell them to take their business, find a hill and take it. It is as if we in business have become scared of our own shadow. Are we so afraid of some competition that we would rather go out of business? Get serious. Get your BB gun out. They want our fort!
Your company must stand for something. Have a set of values, beliefs and objectives as well as a good understanding of your role in the marketplace. This is the box you not only need to think within, you need to use it to nail things to. Once you have this structure, many other decisions become easier to make and many other opportunities become apparent.
How far does the addition extend off the foundation?
In the maturation of every fort and business, there is a desire to see how far you can go. Companies see opportunity and hope that solidly built brand equity can be stretched to support something two or three trees away. This is a really bad idea. Customers have a peculiar way of how they allocate brand affinity. Just because you make a nice truck does not mean they will care about your car. Just because you run a nice casual restaurant does not mean customers will support your upscale or quick service efforts as well. In fact, the further away something is from the base, the harder it is to support.
Business thinkers have known the perils of line extension for years, yet businesses seem doomed to repeat it. The temptation is for businesses to expand their offerings as they grow more successful. The better idea is to continue to focus and take a stronger ownership of a position as credibility and brand affinity grows. To put it simply, dance with the one that brought you or you'll go home with no one.
Today, we think inside a new fort.
Fort 3.0 is by far the best. We have working plumbing and a heater. We have a conference room, production room and an awesome lounge with surround sound. And instead of building makeshift booby traps, we're building brand strategies that we hope will snare up our client's competitors. However, there are some things from Fort 2.1 that remain. We still look for strong, supported beams before we try to nail something to it. We still confer on the overall vision of the fort before we build anything. And we still welcome anyone who is interested in building something strong and lasting.
But you might want to make some noise or call out before you get too close. Otherwise, Richard might shoot you with a pellet gun.
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