Big Ideas Are Not Enough

(Illustration by iStock/akindo)

The difference between creativity and innovation is execution. While creativity is generating valuable and novel ideas, innovation is about successfully implementing those ideas, turning concepts into fully workable solutions. But while innovation models reinforce that distinction by using labels like “execution,” “implementation,” “launch” or “scaling up” to designate the final phase of the value-creation process, such terms can misrepresent the challenge. They suggest that once you have a superior offering, the rest is just about effort and that the time for creative thinking and originality is past.

However, the biggest surprise for innovators is often the internal opposition from within their own organization. Great solutions get quashed when they clash with the core paradigms and beliefs that are already in place, or when they don’t fit the prevailing business model. Unconventional thinking is needed to design new business models, to engage supporters, partners, and other stakeholders in novel ways, and to negotiate the forces of resistance or apathy conspiring against you.

That ingenuity is well illustrated by the innovation journey of Eunice Kennedy Shriver, the younger sister of John F. Kennedy. Born 100 years ago in July, she pioneered the Special Olympics and changed attitudes toward people with intellectual disabilities. Shriver’s trailblazing inclusivity efforts, captured in a recent biography, contravene some widely held implementation principles. Her story exposes four contemporary innovation fallacies that any disruptive innovator must overcome as he or she tries to bridge the gap from creativity to successful innovation. 

1. Don’t Be the ‘Crazy One’

Steve Jobs famously celebrated “the crazy ones,”  the mavericks who succeed by disregarding the rules and norms. But while out-of-the-box thinking can help you come up with novel ideas, being perceived as a “renegade” or “trouble-maker” is no way to get your ideas heard or taken seriously. Unorthodoxy shouldn’t trigger an allergic reaction toward the “odd” idea or its “weird” originator, and the more disruptive your idea, the more carefully you need to show how it fits with the existing values of an organization, as well as the belief systems of people whose support you need to move the idea forward.

The initial spark for Shriver’s big idea came in 1962 with a phone call from a frustrated mother who could not find a summer camp for her child with intellectual disabilities. Shriver, who was deeply marked by the institutionalization of her sister, Rosemary—after a failed lobotomy—had become a leading advocate for the rights of people with intellectual disabilities. Spontaneously, Shriver proposed a solution: “You come here a month from today. I'll start my own camp.” And, taking place on her 200-acre estate, the sports camp became known as “Camp Shriver.”

At the time, intellectual disability was unfashionable, totally outside the realm of politics. Senator John F. Kennedy himself had not supported it, nor was it on his political agenda as a presidential candidate. But Shriver persuaded her brother that, when he became president, supporting intellectual disability would match his values and stance on civil rights, as well as being a chance to put his historical stamp on the issue. He responded by making the cause a national priority and setting up a task force of experts to recommend changes.

Shriver used her influence with the president to get herself appointed to the task force headed by eminent educator Leonard Mayo. Though only a “consultant” to the panel of distinguished scientists, clinicians, and education specialists, she helped broker disputes between them and kept them on track. Her understanding of how things worked in government, and her ability to navigate between different factions of the powers in place quickly made her indispensable. And she pushed the panel to deliver the actionable recommendations needed to secure federal funding (ahead of competing causes) and legislative change.

Shriver channeled her anger at the treatment of people with intellectual disabilities into productive rage and practical activism. And there is evidence that negative emotions like anger and frustration can help to drive creativity. But to pursue radical innovation, you actually need to become what David Gram, former head of ventures at LEGO, calls a “diplomatic rebel.” You must balance your challenge existing practices with embracing different perspectives, building bridges with those who can support your progress. That involves using a language that reflects their concerns and emphasizes a sense of continuity and creating narratives that can appeal to those who can give you the credibility, resources, and encouragement you need to succeed. To be a diplomatic rebel you must also understand the ecosystem dynamics and the rules—written and unwritten—you plan to transgress.

2. Go Beyond ‘Product-Market Fit’ Requirements and See the Big Picture

Product-market fit is the extent to which your solution satisfies real customer needs better than existing alternatives. But while achieving that match is often presented as the signal to scale, it is only part of the scaling decision.

For one thing, product-market fit encourages a “satisficing” mindset, in which you settle prematurely on a good-enough solution instead of exploring paths that can yield greater potential impact. For example, Jeff Bezos originally considered building his online business around office supplies, apparel, or videos because there was product-market fit for each. He could have pursued the first category that met this criterion. But a deeper analysis of 20 potential product categories revealed that books were by far the most promising (and it is doubtful that any of the others would have taken off in the same way). Product-market fit provides a useful indicator, but taken as a goal, it can lead you to miss out on a much bigger opportunity.

Moreover, such an approach tends to ignore stakeholders besides customers who could make or break your solution, including stakeholders inside your organization. Many innovative solutions are undone by the failure of their originators to take full measure of the likely internal resistance that protects the status quo. Large established organizations have “corporate immune systems” that can drive out radical innovation and entrepreneurial activity.

As a result, a solution that is “perfect” for users can’t reach its full potential if it neglects the demands of a broader stakeholder landscape. This is particularly true for social innovation, where the ecosystems tend to be more complex, with multiple players and conflicting interests.

Shriver already had a deep knowledge of the terrain. She had visited institutions around the US, including the notorious “snake pits” for people with the severest disabilities. She had talked to families, educators, researchers, and politicians. She understood the system. She first contacted the schools and clinics in her area to provide names of special-needs children who might be interested, and to request the release of those children into her care, pending parental authorization. The summer sports camp she proposed on her estate had clear product-market fit. The families were only too happy to let their kids experience sports, including running, swimming, soccer, and horse riding. The prospect of a special recreation program had immediate appeal for the parents and the kids themselves.

Shriver could easily have contented herself with inviting some intellectually disabled children from middle-class families and a group of college volunteers to supervise their activities. Everyone would have appreciated this opportunity. But her passion for social justice made her see beyond product-market fit and find ways to leverage the greater symbolic potential of this event.

Shriver chose to use the occasion to promote her deep-held belief in the transformative and unifying power of sports. The camp was free. It was not segregated. And to ensure individual counseling for the participants, Shriver drafted in juvenile delinquents from the local reformatory, to work alongside the high-school volunteers and her own children.

It was a typically unconventional approach—inclusive in the broadest sense—and everybody gained from the experience.

3. Don’t Assume That ‘If You Build It, They Will Come’

Exaggerated faith in the power of your idea is a common problem for innovators. But too many innovators expect their breakthrough idea or solution to speak for itself and succeed on its own merits. Having fought to create a prototype or a pilot that resonates with users, they assume that partners and other stakeholders will also be wowed by the demonstrable superiority of the offering. They can underestimate the need to communicate the value of their idea and persuade others of its merit.

However, if you want to be disruptive, you need to engage supporters and neutralize blockers by adapting your message and appealing to their interests. This is especially important for social innovators who may be less accustomed to political maneuvering.

Shriver, of course, knew how to use her celebrity and connections to mobilize politicians, reporters, and public opinion. For example, she invited the press to the first “Camp Shriver” to witness the social experiment and gave it an additional human interest angle by jumping in the pool herself to give swimming lessons to the children. A few months later, to reach a wider audience, she wrote a four-page article for The Saturday Evening Post—with JFK’s approval—revealing the long-held family secret of her sister Rosemary’s fate.

Shriver’s choice of a widely read and popular family magazine was designed to have maximum impact and she ran the project like a campaign. “Eunice… was determined to knock down all the competitor [causes] when it came to getting government funding,” recalls David Gelman, the journalist who worked with her on the piece.

She fully grasped how her sister’s story could provide a lever to capture reader attention and surface a hidden injustice. She intuitively understood how skillful self-disclosure could help build trust and promote the wider cause.

As intended, the revelation struck a chord with readers and created a profound shift in societal attitudes toward people with intellectual disabilities —and the weight of public opinion also neutralized political opposition to additional funding. At the same time, the article alerted families to the recent “Camp Shriver” initiative, urging similar grassroots programs in other communities. Within a year, a wave of parallel summer camps sprang up across the US (many of them subsidized by the Kennedy Foundation).

4. Ditch the Belief That ‘Scaling Means Cloning’

Scaling means more than replicating the proven concept. Of course, replication is important. Shriver’s idea initially grew from a single “pilot” into a multi-node national project, and could conceivably have grown into an international movement. But if it was only replication, it would have remained a localized solution for parents with special needs children, and Shriver would have missed out on her bigger mission: to enhance inclusivity and public empathy for people with intellectual disabilities, bringing them into the mainstream of American life.

Sometimes you need to change to scale. The assumption that you first innovate and then scale can be misleading since scaling also requires ingenuity and creative thinking. Scaling is about transforming your solution, to grow and have more impact.

For Shriver, the big pivot came in late 1967, when she received a request for funding from a young Chicago gym teacher, Anne McGlone. She taught intellectually disabled children and was proposing to organize a city-wide track meet for them. Shriver realized that the movement had the opportunity to shift from multiple camps, fueled by the Kennedy Foundation, to something bigger and different. She proposed a much higher visibility event for children from all across the country.

“My vision was never for national or international games,” recalls McGlone. “I didn’t have the vision or connections to think globally. She had bigger ideas.”

In March 1968, Shriver surprised everyone at a press conference by calling it the “Special Olympics,” having used her influence to secure access to the precious “Olympic” brand. For the event itself, she convinced sports personalities like Olympic champions Jesse Owens and Rafer Johnson to coach the children and encourage media coverage, and she made the opening address at Chicago’s legendary sports stadium in Soldier Field.

While it drew only a few hundred spectators, the event brought together 1,000 athletes from 26 states and Canada. But for the second edition in 1972, Shriver convinced ABC’s Wide World of Sports to televise the games. The movement has since grown into a worldwide event, last held in Abu Dhabi in 2019, with participants from 190 countries.

Creativity does not stop when you start putting your idea into practice!

Read more stories by Cyril Bouquet, Jean-Louis Barsoux & Michael Wade.