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Why Reader Inspiration Is Key to Unlocking Your Legacy

Author note – this article has been written to accompany the talk I delivered at the inimitable Magazine Street conference on the 26th September, 2024, hosted by the International Magazine Centre.

Huge thanks to Nikki Simpson for inviting me to the stage. If you’re curious about the fantastic work that IMC does, you can learn all about it here.

a linguist, I’m always fascinated by how language evolves over time.

The subject for my talk: Why Reader Inspiration Is Key to Unlocking Your Legacy actually came in reverse (and sideways, frankly), as good ideas so often do, and this one came about from the age-old joke that each new generation creates new words or slang terms that are utterly incomprehensible to everyone else.

Have you seen the latest trend of letting Gen Z write your marketing scripts? It’s absurd and charming, all at the same time.

I think we get overly hung-up on generational gaps, personally, and we reduce each other to labels. That said, there are definite shifts happening in language and these are mainly due to the advent of the internet and the effect it has on how quickly trends are picked up, pathologised, and perhaps passed on or over.

Here’s an example. 

Have you noticed that the word “aesthetic” doesn’t seem to mean what it used to? An aesthetic choice used to refer to something that was visually appealing – a deliberate design approach, or principles underlying a particular artistic movement.

Now, “aesthetic” is an adjective. “That’s so aesthetic”, you might hear on TikTok or Instagram, or amongst 16-year-olds out shopping. And, bizarrely, the word aesthetic seems to have co-opted the meaning of “subculture”, too. We’re seeing the emergence of subcultures like the Dark Academia aesthetic, the Cottagecore aesthetic, and so on. The subculture aspect emerges from those who identify with this aesthetic – but more on that later. Let’s look at legacy, first.

The Core Component of a Meaningful Legacy

Legacy. It can sound a bit naff, off-the-cuff, can't it? But I'd argue that legacy only sounds or feels naff if you haven't taken the time to really think about it.

Why is it important to think about this? It seems to me that we’re all leaving something behind, whether we know about it or not. Knowing what kind of legacy you want to leave behind, then, is critical in helping you shape that impact.

If you can get clear on your legacy and what you want that to be, you will be that much more able to deliberately deliver it in the present.

In today's culture, if we're not thinking about legacy in a purposeful way, then there's a threat of inactivity, of stagnation. As the saying goes: "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got."

When you're clear about what drives you, you're more likely to create work that is both authentic and inspiring to others.

Creativity and legacy go hand-in-hand. You can’t simply leave it to chance. You have to create a legacy, deliberately, meaningfully, purposefully, if it’s going to be worth leaving.

But there’s a bit of a hiccup with that. Here’s why.

Creativity is in decline. Sounds grim, doesn’t it? Or even if not grim, is it believable? With the internet, the rise of global sharing, the dawn of all kinds of augmented and virtual reality tech, you might argue that we’re able to be more creative than ever before.

You might be right – but that doesn’t mean that theory and practice are the same thing.

If you want a stunning dive on the creativity crisis and its impact, do yourself a favour and check out Joel Stein’s fantastic piece: Is Human Creativity Fading Away?

Follow that up with Alex Murrell’s brilliant “The Age of Average”, and things start to feel bleak.

What On Earth Does Inspiration Have To Do With Legacy?

The Creativity Crisis

Both Stein and Murrell’s articles note an alarming trend: our cities, homes, coffee shops, cars, and even people (from the average individual to our hallowed celebrities) are beginning to look eerily similar. It’s not just an architectural or interior design or ergonomic issues, though.

Consider the current cinema lineup. Coraline (remastered). Inside Out 2. Despicable Me 4. Twisters (remake). Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (sequel).

Almost everything on the big screen is a remake, a sequel, and or a derivative work. Why do you think the Multiverse was such a massive concept for the Avengers franchise?

It gives them ‘creative’ license to churn the same characters out, over and over again, and make a fortune doing so.

I sound crotchety, yes, but the same old schlock seems to dominate the box office. Big media companies are milking ideas for all they're worth and they’re leaving little room for originality.

This lack of creativity isn't just a superficial problem. It's symptomatic of a deeper issue. We're taking fewer risks, and it might have something to do with the way we think.

Spotlight Thinking vs. Lantern Thinking

Psychologists have posited that there are two different approaches to engaging with world at large: spotlight thinking and lantern thinking.

Spotlight thinking, which we often adopt as adults, focuses narrowly on specific tasks and blocks out potentially interesting information. While efficient, it can lead us into the sea of sameness, prioritising predictable profitability over originality.

Lantern thinking, on the other hand, is what children do naturally. It involves shining a gentle light on everything around us, absorbing information without preconceived notions of importance.

This approach opens us up to new possibilities and connections: it fuels creativity. We spot links between seemingly disparate ideas. We are more divergent in our approach to problem solving. We’re much more open to inspiration, to being inspired.

Psychologist and researcher Alison Gopnik argues that because, as babies, we naturally take a lantern approach to the world around us. No one’s told us what should be worthy of our attention, so everything is fascinating.

A leaf, the rain, a blade of grass. Gopnik argues that this lantern-lit path to creativity is an innate human ability that we unlearn as we grow older.

If you’re a spotlight thinker, you might argue that lantern thinking runs the risk of being risky. It’s a loss of time, of focus, of effort, to look at everything beyond the task at hand. Time is money, they might say. Eat more frogs! Be more productive! De-risk the future!

But as noted, research shows a strong correlation between risk-taking and creativity. The willingness to try new ideas, engage with the potential for failure, and step outside our comfort zones is essential for creative growth and escape from the sea of sameness.

A "Sea of Sameness"

hypercategorisation

In an attempt to escape the endless blanding of our world, people have run as far and as fast from the idea of “sameness” as possible.

This is when my observations about language, aesthetics, subcultures, and what I’m calling “hypercategorisation” comes in.

There is a website that notes over 1,000 (1,061 at last count) aesthetics, and promises visitors a “comprehensive encyclopedia of online and offline aesthetics!”

Their definition of aesthetic is: “A collection of visual schema that creates a "mood."”
The site owner goes on to explain: “We are a community dedicated to the identification, observation, and documentation of visual schemata.”

These aesthetics, or subcultures, at first glance, seem to be as far away from the sea of sameness as possible, don’t they? After all, it’s not like meatcore, sizz, or lobotomy chic are mainstream.

With so many ultra-specific aesthetic categories, each with its own set of rules, playlists, and visual markers, you might think we’ve solved the creativity crisis. But I’m concerned that this hypercategorisation leads to restrictive thinking.

Like algorithms, the specificity of these aesthetics means they can only concentrate and calcify themselves over time. To ever deviate from their ‘core’ would undo their very existence – there’s only one way in, and one way out. To be anything other than what they are would be self-destructive.

Beyond these creative cul-de-sacs, I also worry about how problematic and elitist some of these subcultures can be. While aesthetics can, on the surface, make you seem different, they’re still dead ends.

These aesthetics all contain shake-and-bake instructions for cultural belonging with zero self-discovery. There are playlists to listen to, books you should read, movies to watch, things to buy, that will ‘make’ you this aesthetic.

Lantern, or laser pointer?

These hypercategories have de-risked being different.

They offer a false sense of uniqueness while actually limiting our perspectives (since when did creativity require a reading list and 10 pre-approved aesthetic purchases from TikTok shop?).

They are reinforced echo chambers: they’re spotlights that think they’re lanterns.

Scratch that. They’re spotlights that are so narrowly focused that they’ve actually become laser pointers.

Ever tried to light up a room with a laser pointer? Didn’t think so.

So what’s the solution? If being the same doesn’t work, and neither does being different, how can we tap back into our innate creativity?

The thing that the sea of sameness and hypercategorisation have in common is that they’re both risk-averse approaches.

The sea of sameness emerges from what’s popular and profitable, and
hypercategories persist because they fundamentally can’t risk changing themselves.

Here’s the thing. There’s a clear correlation between risk-taking and creativity.

The Crucial Link Between Risk-Taking and Creativity

The Research

1. Beghetto (2018) argues that "Risk-taking, enacted through a willingness to try new ideas and possibilities, and engage with the potential for failure, is key to the iterative nature of creativity and learning."

2. Dewett (2007) emphasises that "Risk-taking is essential to most conceptualisations of creativity."

3. Beghetto and Kaufman (2007) highlight the social aspect of creative risk-taking: "Creative endeavours also touch on social risk because of the potential embarrassment or discomfort with sharing ideas publicly, especially if there are possible negative outcomes."

What does any of this have to do with magazines? Magazines invite us into a space outside of time. They allow us to immerse ourselves in stories, images, and ideas without the constant distractions of the digital world. The tactile experience of holding a magazine, feeling the weight and texture of the paper – it all creates a deeper connection with the content.

Studies have shown that we retain information better when reading from print rather than digital sources. This makes magazines an ideal medium for delivering inspiring, thought-provoking content that stays with readers long after they've finished the last page.

In our digital age, the printed magazine holds a special place in the realm of inspiration. While we often "consume" online content, we "enjoy" magazines.

1. Consume: From Latin "consumere," meaning "to take up completely."
When we consume digital content, we often absorb it quickly and without deep reflection.

2. Enjoy: From Old French "enjoier," meaning "to give joy to" or "enjoïr," meaning "to enjoy," both based on Latin "gaudere," meaning "to rejoice."

This distinction is more than semantic; it reflects a fundamentally different engagement with the medium of printed words. Isn’t this how we truly interact with magazines – with anticipation, quiet joy, a deeper degree of engagement? It’s my belief that magazines make us more creative, by virtue of what they are and how they facilitate our inspiration.

Other studies have gone one step further, and rather than qualify the link between risk and creativity, they’ve quantified it.

These researchers found that creative individuals are much more likely to take social risks compared to other risk ’domains’ (Ethical, Financial, Health/Safety, Recreational, and Social).

Depending on the creativity tests used, the study found that the correlation between creativity and social risk-taking can be anywhere between 38% and 135% stronger than other risk categories.

It seems that being willing to look a little silly, or vulnerably sharing your creative work in the court of public opinion, or even simply risking rejection – are all vital to creative growth and capacity.

So if increased creativity can only come with increased social risk-taking, how in the heck do we take more risks? We’re all naturally risk-averse.

It’s a survival trait, for goodness’ sake – but if we want to avoid the sea of sameness or stagnant hypercategories – we have to be willing to get out of our comfort zone.

The only way to take more risks is to be motivated to do so, and there are two kinds of motivation. Push and pull. Fear and desire. Need and greed. Personally, I doubt many of the folks reading this are scared of the sea of sameness. But I do think we deeply desire more creative, inspired lives.

So, with that in mind, taking a ‘desire’ based approach to motivation is the way forward. And that desire works best when it’s at the level of passion. Passion is the spark that ignites creativity, making us courageous enough to take risks and push boundaries.

How do you discover that passion, then? You get clear (maybe even for the first time) on your values.

Here’s another thing. They’re probably not what you think they are at first pass. You’ve got to ask the right questions to get the right answers.

Below I’ve compiled a list of the questions that, when properly considered, have uncovered truly differentiating value combinations for my clients over the last five years.

1. Why do you show up to work every day?
2. What motivates you in your work?
3. What are your core personal values?
4. Who do you not want to work with, and why?
5. How would you like to be described by clients and peers?
6. What legacy do you want to leave through your work?
7. What work feels most necessary and satisfying to you?
8. What's the most common positive feedback you receive?
9. What communication qualities do you admire most in others?

As I said before: when you're clear about what drives you, you're more likely to create work that is both authentic and inspiring to others.

It doesn’t have to be binary. It’s not either/or. You don’t have to settle for the sea of sameness or constrict yourself in a hypercategory – you get to find a balance between familiarity, and difference.

Your legacy is a product of your values. As Elvis Presley once said, "Values are like fingerprints. Nobody's are the same, but you leave them all over everything you do."


Set Your Values On Fire

The Essential Questions

Purpose > Product

Nude Magazines Changed My Life

A last quick story to show you what I mean. One day, as a moody misfit teenager doing a stomp around Edinburgh to escape her tiny parochial town, I stumbled upon a magazine called "Nude" in a now-gone shop called CULT (RIP).

They were stacked neatly, perfectly square, and featured headlines like “UK Rollerderby”, “Emily the Strange”, and “Best of British Gothic Horror”. I had no idea one single magazine could contain such multitudes, but as Nude proudly proclaimed, it was packed with “over 100 pages of counter-cultural goodness”.

And goodness it was: opening my eyes to everything from alternative art in Holland to tattoo/taboo culture in Hong Kong – subjects ridiculously far removed from my daily life in rural Scotland.

The experience of discovering Nude Magazine was absolutely transformative. What the editors of Nude - Suzy Prince and Ian Lowey - did with the publication was show a 16-year-old misfit that there was a colourful, celebratory, and creative community out there where I could feel at home. 17 years later, that feeling still holds true.

What Nude showed me is that in the end, inspiration is inevitable when you create something, publish something, that's rooted in care for another person.

Leave your audience with the best of you, and watch as your legacy unfolds in the lives you touch and the creativity you ignite.