Teaching physics is basically impossible.
Reality kind of sucks.
I’m not talking about the struggles of “adulting” or the difficulty of navigating the modern world. I mean talking about the world as it actually is. Nobody likes it.
The webcomic above (from XKCD, which doesn’t stand for anything) illustrates the problem.
True physics is pure math, but it’s much easier to teach with some visuals or analogies. The problem is, those analogies are only similar to the truth. They’re actually inaccurate in important ways. So you can either mislead your students or bore them to death. And physics isn’t the only field that works that way.
Most folks like simple, straightforward stories best. These stories have a tightly-woven plot, clear themes, and motivated characters. The sequence of events makes sense. But real life is nothing like that.
Stream-of-consciousness
A group of early modern writers realized this and invented a writing technique called “stream-of-consciousness.” We think in a continuous stream of half-connected ideas. These modern writers believed that actual writing can reflect that. You can have a conversation while daydreaming about something else entirely. You can be thinking your way through a task at work and interrupt your train of thought here and there with planning for the evening’s activities.
Our minds are messy. And this is a sample of what it looks like to write that way. For context, this scene depicts the main character walking on a beach he knows well while his mind wanders randomly:
A bloated carcass of a dog lay lolled on bladder-wrack. Before him the gunwale of a boat, sunk in sand. Un coche ensablé Louis Veuillot called Gautier’s prose. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. And these, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a warren of weasel rats. Hide gold there. Try it. You have some. Sands and stones. Heavy of the past. Sir Lout’s toys. Mind you don’t get one bang on the ear. I’m the bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well boulders, bones for my steppingstones. Feefawfum. I zmellz de bloodz odz an Iridzman.
from Ulysses by James Joyce
Did you get all that? There’s lots of beach imagery, along with random bursts of thoughts about Veuillot criticizing Gautier’s writing, daydreams about sea pirates, references to fairy-tale giants with speech impediments, and so on. It’s easy to get lost.
It might be more accurate to how we actually think, and it might be interesting, but it’s less clear and often less enjoyable. Ulysses is an extremely famous book. Quite a bit of its fame is how difficult it is to read.
A lot of advertisements suffer from a similar problem: they try to get at “reality” or “accuracy” by simply containing too much information. It’s much more effective to do the opposite: reflect a dream, not bland reality.
What makes a dream?
Roy H. Williams, ad-writer extraordinaire, calls dream-casting ad writing magical thinking, which he defines as “a type of writing characterized by elements of the fantastic – woven with a deadpan sense of presentation – into an otherwise true story.” The following classic Folgers ad is a great example of this:
There is a 2009 sequel to this commercial that I DO NOT RECOMMEND.
You’ve been warned.
The brother’s surprise arrival home on Christmas morning is convenient, but plausible. But then the following things happen: though no one is awake, the tree lights as soon as he enters. He’s carrying a piles of perfectly-wrapped presents. His little sister wakes up and comes down the stairs right as he enters. The first thing they decide to do to mark the holiday season is make a pot of coffee together. Then the whole family wakes up smiling in their beds because of the magical smell of Folgers coffee.
It’s not that people don’t drink coffee or even Folgers specifically at Christmas. And maybe somebody would wake up when they smelled coffee wafting through the house. It’s that none of those things were cultural touchstones at the time. Magical thinking in a magical ad made the connection. Loads of people grew up with this commercial, and it makes them feel warm and cozy. And presumably, it makes them just a little more likely to buy Folgers coffee.
It’s the same reason why nobody would bat an eye at a polar bear drinking a Coca-Cola now. A series of magical thinking ads made the image nostalgic.
So what does this mean for you?
Your customers want your ads to be truthful. But they don’t want information overload. They don’t want you to literally translate reality. They want a dream of a better life. A happier tomorrow. They want to believe that your product or service puts them one step closer to it. If your advertising sells them on the dream and your team delivers, you’ll have a loyal brand advocate for life.
If you need help on either part (the messaging or the team culture), give us a call. We’d love to help you expand to your full potential.