MANAGING YOURSELF

How to Pitcha Brilliant IdeaBefore you even know it, the stranger across the desk

has decided what kind of person you are. Knowing

how you'll be stereotyped allows you to play to -

and control-the other guy's expectations.

by Kimberly D. Elsbach

COMING UP WITH creative ideas iseasy; selling them to strangersis hard. All too often, entrepre-

neurs, sales executives, and marketingmanagers go to great lengths to showhow their new business plans or creativeconcepts are practical and high margin-only to be rejected by corporate deci-sion makers who don't seem to under-stand the real value of the ideas. Whydoes this happen?

It turns out that the problem has asmuch to do with the seller's traits as withan idea's inherent quality. The personon the receiving end tends to gauge thepitcher's creativity as well as the pro-posal itself. And judgments about thepitcher's ability to come up with work-able ideas can quickly and permanentlyovershadow perceptions of the idea'sworth. We all like to think that people

judge us carefully and objectively onour merits. But the fact is, they rush toplace us into neat little categories - theystereotype us. So the first thing to realizewhen you're preparing to make a pitchto strangers is that your audience isgoing to put you into a box. And they'regoing to do it really fast. Research sug-gests that humans can categorize othersin less than 150 milliseconds. Within30 minutes, they've made lasting judg-ments about your character.

These insights emerged from mylengthy study of the $50 billion U.S. filmand television industry. Specifically, Iworked with 50 Hollywood executivesinvolved in assessing pitches fromscreenwriters. Over the course of sixyears, I observed dozens of 3ominutepitches in which the screenwriters en-countered the "catchers" for the first

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M A N A G I N G YOURSELF • How to Pitch a Br i l l iant Idea

time. In interviewing and observing thepitchers and catchers, I was able todiscern just how quickly assessmentsof creative potential are made in thesehigh-stakes exchanges. (The deals thatarise as a result of successful screenplaypitches are often multimillion-dollarprojects, rivaling in scope the develop-ment of new car models by Detroit'slargest automakers and marketingcampaigns by New York's most success-ful advertising agencies.) To determinewhether my observations applied tobusiness settings beyond Hollywood,I attended a variety of product-design,marketing, and venture-capital pitchsessions and conducted interviews withexecutives responsible for judging cre-ative, high-stakes ideas from pitcherspreviously unknown to them. In thoseenvironments, the results were remark-ably similar to what I had seen in themovie business.

People on the receiving end of pitcheshave no formal, verifiable, or objectivemeasures for assessing that elusive trait,creativity. Catchers-even the expertones-therefore apply a set of subjectiveand often inaccurate criteria very earlyin the encounter, and from that pointon, the tone is set. If a catcher detectssubtle cues indicating that the pitcherisn't creative, the proposal is toast. Butthat's not the whole story. I've discov-ered that catchers tend to respond wellif they are made to feel that they areparticipating in an idea's development.

The pitchers who do this successfullyare those who tend to be categorizedby catchers into one of three prototypes.I call them the showrunner, the artist,and the neophyte. Showrunners comeoff as professionals who combine cre-ative inspiration with production know-how. Artists appear to be quirky andunpolished and to prefer the world ofcreative ideas to quotidian reality. Neo-phytes tend to be-or act as if theywere - young, inexperienced, and naive.To involve the audience in the creativeprocess, showrunners deliberately levelthe power differential between them-selves and their catchers; artists invertthe differential; and neophytes exploitit If you're a pitcher, the bottom-line im-

plication is this: By successfully project-ing yourself as one of the three creativetypes and getting your catcher to viewhimself or herself as a creative collabo-rator, you can improve your chances ofselling an idea.

My research also has implications forthose who buy ideas: Catchers shouldbeware of relying on stereotypes. It's alltoo easy to be dazzled by pitchers whoultimately can't get their projects off theground, and it's just as easy to overlookthe creative individuals who can makegood on their ideas. That's why it's im-portant for the catcher to test everypitcher, a matter we'll return to in thefollowing pages.

The Sorting HatIn the late 1970s, psychologists NancyCantor and Walter Mischel, then atStanford University, demonstrated thatwe all use sets of stereotypes-what theycalled "person prototypes"-to catego-rize strangers in the first moments ofinteraction. Though such instant type-casting is arguably unfair, pattern match-

ing is so firmly hardwired into humanpsychology that only conscious disci-pline can counteract it.

Yale University creativity researcherRobert Stemberg contends that the pro-totype matching we use to assess origi-nality in others results from our im-plicit belief that creative people possesscertain traits-unconventionality, forexample, as well as intuitive ness, sensi-tivity, narcissism, passion, and perhapsyouth. We develop these stereotypesthrough direct and indirect experienceswith people known to be creative, frompersonally interacting with the 15-year-old guitar player next door to hearingstories about Pablo Picasso.

When a person we don't know pitchesan idea to us, we search for visual andverbal matches with those implicitmodels, remembering only the charac-teristics that identify the pitcher as onetype or another. We subconsciously

Kimberly D. Elsbach (kdelsbach^ucdavis.edu) is an associate professor of manage-ment at the University of California, Davis.

118 HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW

How to Pitch a Brilliant Idea • MANAGING YOURSELF

award points to people we can easilyidentify as having creative traits; we sub-tract points from those who are hard toassess or who fit negative stereotypes.

In hurried business situations inwhich executives must evaluate dozensof ideas in a week, or even a day, catch-ers are rarely willing to expend the ef-fort necessary to judge an idea moreobjectively. Like Harry Potter's SortingHat, they classify pitchers in a matter ofseconds. They use negative stereotypingto rapidly identify the no-go ideas. Allyou have to do is fall into one of fourcommon negative stereotypes, and thepitch session will be over before it hasbegun. (For more on these stereotypes,see the sidebar "How to Kill Your OwnPitch.") In fact, many such sessions arestrictly a process of elimination; in myexperience, only i% of ideas make it be-yond the initial pitch.

Unfortunately for pitchers, type-based elimination is easy, because neg-ative impressions tend to be moresalient and memorable than positiveones. To avoid fast elimination, success-ful pitchers-only 25% of those I haveobserved-turn the tables on the catch-ers by enrolling them in the creativeprocess. These pitchers exude passionfor their ideas and find ways to givecatchers a chance to shine. By doing so,they induce the catchers to judge themas likable collaborators. Oscar-winningwriter, director, and producer OliverStone told me that the invitation to col-laborate on an idea is a "seduction." Hisadvice to screenwriters pitching an ideato a producer is to "pull back and projectwhat he needs onto your idea in orderto make the story whole for him." Thethree types of successful pitchers havetheir own techniques for doing this, aswe'll see.

The ShowrunnerIn the corporate world, as in Hollywood,showrunners combine creative thinkingand passion with what Sternberg andTodd Lubart, authors of Defying theCrowd: Cultivating Creativity in a Cultureof Conformity, call "practical intelli-gence" - a feel for which ideas are likelyto contribute to the business. Showrun-

ners tend to display charisma and wit inpitching, say, new design concepts tomarketing, but they also demonstrateenough technical know-how to con-vince catchers that the ideas can be de-veloped according to industry-standardpractices and within resource con-straints. Though they may not have themost or the best ideas, showrunners arethose rare people in organizations whosee the majority of their concepts fullyimplemented.

An example of a showrunner is thelegendary kitchen-gadget inventor andpitchman Ron Popeil. Perfectly coiffedand handsome, Popeil is a combinationdesign master and ringmaster. In hisNew Yorker account of Popeil's phe-nomenally successful Ronco ShovrtimeRotisserie & BBQ, Malcolm Gladwelldescribed how Popeil fuses entertain-ment skills-he enthusiastically show-cases the product as an innovation thatwill "change your life"-with business

How to Kill Your Own PitchBefore you even get to the stage in the pitch where the catcher catego-

rizes you as a particular creative type, you have to avoid some danger-

ous pigeonholes: the four negative stereotypes that are guaranteed to

kill a pitch. And take care, because negative cues carry more weight

than positive ones.

The pushover would rather unload an idea than defend it. ("I could

do one of these in red, or if you don't like that, I could do it in blue.")

One venture capitalist I spoke with offered the example of an entre-

preneur who was seeking funding for a computer networking start-up.

When the VCs raised concerns about an aspectof the device, the

pitcher simply offered to remove it from the design, leading the

investors to suspect that the pitcher didn't really care about his idea.

The robot presents a proposal too formulaically, as if it had been

memorized from a how-to book. Witness the entrepreneur who re-

sponds to prospective investors'questions about due diligence and

other business details with canned answers from his PowerPoint talk.

The used<ar salesman is tbat obnoxious, argumentative character

too often deployed in consultancies and corporate sales departments.

One vice presidentof marketing told me the story of an arrogant con-

sultant who put in a proposalto her organization. The consultant's

offerwas vaguely intriguing, and she asked him to revise his bid

slightly. Instead of working with her, he argued with her. Indeed, he

tried selling the same package again and again, each time arguing

why his proposal would produce the most astonishing bottom-line

results the company had ever seen. In the end, she grew so tired of

his wheedling insistence and inability to listen courteously to her

feedback that she told him she wasn't interested in seeing any more

bids from him.

The charity case is needy; all he or she wants is a job. I recall a free-

lance consultant who had developed a course for executives on how

to work with independent screenwriters. He could be seen haunting

the halts of production companies, knocking on every open door, giv-

ing the same pitch. As soon as he sensed he was being turned down,

he began pleading with the catcher, saying he really, really needed to

fill some slots to keep his workshop going.

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M A N A G I N G YOURSELF • How to Pitch a Brilliant Idea

savvy. For his television spots, Popeilmakes sure that the chickens are roastedto exactly the resplendent golden brownthat looks best on camera. And he de-signed the rotisserie's glass front to re-duce glare, so that to the home cook,the revolving, dripping chickens lookjust as they do on TV.

The first Hollywood pitcher I ob-served was a showrunner. The minutehe walked into the room, he scoredpoints with the studio executive as acreative type, in part because of his new,pressed jeans, his fashionable blackturtleneck, and his nice sport coat. Theclean hair draping his shoulders showedno hint of gray. He had come to pitch aweekly television series based on thelegend of Robin Hood. His experience asa marketer was apparent; he opened bymentioning an earlier TV series of histhat had been based on a comic book.The pitcher remarked that the serieshad enjoyed some success as a market-ing franchise, spawning lunch boxes,bath toys, and action figures.

Showrunners create a level playingfield by engaging the catcher in a kindof knowledge duet. They typically be-gin by getting the catcher to respondto a memory or some other subject with

Pitcher: We're talking a science fic-tion version of Robin Hood. Robin has asorcerer in his band of merry men whocan conjure up all kinds of scary andwonderful spells.

Catcher: I love it!The pitcher sets up his opportunity

by leading the catcher through a seriesof shared memories and viewpoints.Specifically, he engages the catcher byasking him to recall and comment onfamiliar movies. With each response,hesenses and then builds on the catcher'sknowledge and Interest, eventuallyguiding the catcher to the core idea byusing a word ("twist") that's common tothe vocabularies of both producers andscreenwriters,

Showrunners also display an abilityto improvise, a quality that allows themto adapt if a pitch begins to go awry.Consider the dynamic between the cre-ative director of an ad agency and aprospective client, a major televisionsports network. As Mallorre Dill re-ported in a 2001 Adweek article onaward-winning advertising campaigns,the network's VP of marketing was seek-ing help with a new campaign for cov-erage of the upcoming professional bas-ketball season, and the ad agency was

Showrunners deliberately level the power dijferentlal

between themselves and their catchers; artists invert

the differential; and neophytes exploit it

which the showrunner is familiar. Con-sider this give-and-take:

Pitcher; Remember Errol Flynn'sRobin Hood?

Catcher: Oh, yeah. One of my all-timefavorites as a kid.

Pitcher: Yes, it was classic. Then, ofcourse, came Costner's version.

Catcher: That was much darker. Andit didn't evoke as much passion as theoriginal.

Pitcher: But the special effects weregreat.

Catcher: Yes, they were.Pitcher: That's the twist I want to in-

clude in this new series.Catcher: Special effects?

invited to make a pitch. Prior to themeeting, the network executive stressedto the agency that the campaign wouldhave to appeal to local markets acrossthe United States while achieving"street credibility" with avid fans.

The agency's creative director and itsart director pitched the idea of digitallyinserting two average teenagers intovideo of an NBA game. Initially, thecatcher frowned on the idea, wonder-ing aloud if viewers would find it arro-gant and aloof. So the agency duo ad-libbed a rap that one teen could reciteafter scoring on all-star ShaquiileO'Neal: "I'm fresh like a can of picante.And I'm deeper than Dante in the cir-

cles of hell." The catcher was takenaback at first; then he laughed. Invitedto participate in the impromptu rapsession, the catcher began inserting hisown lines. When the fun was over, thepresenters repitched their idea with aslight variation-inserting the teenagersinto videos of home-team games forlocal markets - and the account was soldto the tune of hundreds of thousandsof dollars.

Real showrunners are rare - only 20%of the successful pitchers I observedwould qualify. Consequently, they are inhigh demand, which is good news forpitchers who can demonstrate the rightcombination of talent and expertise.

The ArtistArtists, too, display single-minded pas-sion and enthusiasm about their ideas,but they are less slick and conformist intheir dress and mannerisms, and theytend to be shy or socially awkward. Asone Hollywood producer told me,"Themore shy a writer seems, the better youthink the writing is, because you assumethey're living in their internal world."Unlike shov^runners, artists appear tohave little or no knowledge of, or eveninterest in, the details of implementa-tion. Moreover, they invert the powerdifferential by completely commandingthe catcher's imagination. Instead ofengaging the catcher in a duet, they putthe audience in thrall to the content.Artists are particularly adept at con-ducting what physicists call "thoughtexperiments," inviting the audience intoimaginary worlds.

One young screenwriter 1 observed fitthe artist type to perfection. He woreblack leather pants and a torn T-shirt,several earrings in each ear, and a tattooon his slender arm. His hair was rum-pled, his expression was brooding: VanGogh meets Tim Burton. He cared littleabout the production details for thedark, violent cartoon series he imag-ined; rather, he was utterly absorbedby the unfolding story. He opened hispitch like this: "Picture what happenswhen a bullet explodes inside some-one's brain. Imagine it in slow motion.There is the shattering blast, the tidal

120 HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW

How to Pitch 3 Br i l l iant Idea • M A N A G I N G YOURSELF

wave of red, the acrid smell of gunpow-der. That's the opening scene in this an-imated sci-fi flick." He then proceededto lead his catchers through an exciting,detailed narrative of his film, as a mas-ter storyteller would. At the end, theexecutives sat back, smiling, and toldthe writer they'd like to go ahead withhis idea.

In the business world, artists are sim-ilarly nonconformist. Consider Alan, aproduct designer at a major packaged-foods manufacturer. I observed Alan ina meeting with business-developmentexecutives he'd never met. He had cometo pitch an idea based on the premisethat children like to play with theirfood. The proposal was for a cereal withpieces that interlocked in such a waythat children could use them for build-ing things, Legos style. With his pocket-protected laboratory coat and horn-rimmed glasses, Alan looked very muchthe absent-minded professor. As he en-tered the conference room where thesuited-and-tied executives at his com-pany had assembled, he hung back, ap-parently uninterested in the Power-Point slides or the marketing andrevenue projections of the business-development experts. His appearanceand reticence spoke volumes about him.His type was unmistakable.

When it was Alan's turn, he dumpedfour boxes of prototype cereal ontothe mahogany conference table, to thestunned silence of the executives. Ignor-ing protocol, he began constructing anelaborate fort, all the while talking furi-ously about the qualities of the comfiour that kept the pieces and the struc-ture together. Finally, he challenged theexecutives to see who could build thetallest tower. The executives so enjoyedthe demonstration that they green-lighted Alan's project.

While artists-who constituted about40% of the successful pitchers I ob-served-are not as polished as show-runners, they are the most creative of thethree types. Unlike showrunners andneophytes, artists are fairly transparent.It's harder to fake the part. In otherwords, they don't play to type; they arethe type. Indeed, it is very difficult for

someone who is not an artist to pretendto be one, because genuineness is whatmakes the artist credible.

The NeophyteNeophytes are the opposite of show-runners. Instead of displaying their ex-pertise, they plead ignorance. Neophytesscore points for daring to do the impos-sible, something catchers see as refresh-ing. Unencumbered by tradition or pastsuccesses, neophytes present themselvesas eager learners. They consciously ex-ploit the power differential betweenpitcher and catcher by asking directly

pitch session. The fellow looked asthough he had walked off the set ofDoogie Howser, M.D. With his infectioussmile, he confided to his catchers that hewas not going to pitch them a typicalshow, "mainly because I've never doneone. But I think my inexperience heremight be a blessing."

He showed the catchers a variety ofdrumming moves, then asked one per-son in his audience to help him come upwith potential camera angles-such aslooking out from inside the drum orviewing it from overhead-inquiringhow these might play on the screen.

and boldly for help-not in a desperateway, but with the confidence of a bril-liant favorite, a talented student seekingsage advice from a beloved mentor.

Consider the case of one neophytepitcher I observed, a young, ebullientscreenwriter who had just returnedfrom his first trip to Japan. He wantedto develop a show about an Americankid (like himself) who travels to Japanto learn to play taiko drums, and hebrought his drums and sticks into the

When the catcher got down on hishands and knees to show the neophytea particularly "cool" camera angle, thepitch turned into a collaborative teach-ing session. Ignoring his lunch appoint-ment, the catcher spent the next halfhour offering suggestions for weavingthe story of the young drummer into aseries of taiko performances in whichartistic camera angles and imaginativelighting and sound would be used tomirror the star's emotions.

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M A N A G I N G YOURSELF • How to Pitch a Brilliant !dea

Many entrepreneurs are natural neo-phytes. Lou and Sophie McDermott,two sisters from Australia, started theSavage Sisters sportswear line in the late1990s. Former gymnasts with petitebuilds and spunky personalities, theycartwheeled into the clothing businesswith no formal training in fashion orfinance, instead, they relied heavily ontheir enthusiasm and optimism and akeen curiosity about the fine points ofretailing to get a start in the highly com-petitive world of teen fashion. On theirshopping outings at local stores, theMcDermott sisters studied merchandis-ing and product placement-all thewhile asking store owners how they gotstarted, according to the short docu-mentary film Cutting Their Own Chth.

The McDermott sisters took advan-tage of their inexperience to learn allthey could. They would ask a store

and neophytes can win the day throughenchantment and charm. From thecatcher's perspective, however, show-runners can also be the most dangerousof all pitchers, because they are the mostlikely to blind through glitz.

Catchers Beware

When business executives ask me formy insights about creativity in Holly-wood, one of the first questions theyput to me is, "Why is there so much badtelevision?" After hearing the storiesI've told here, they know the answer:Hollywood executives too often letthemselves be wooed by positive stereo-types-particularly that of the show-runner -rather than by the quality of theideas. Indeed, individuals who becomeadept at conveying impressions of cre-ative potential, while lacking the realthing, may gain entry into organizations

If they rely too heavily on stereotypes, idea buyers might

overlook creative individuals who can truly deliver the goods.

owner to give them a tour of the store,and they would pose dozens of ques-tions: "Why do you buy this line and notthe other one? Why do you put thisdress here and not there? What are yourcustomers like? What do they ask formost?" Instead of being annoying, theMcDermotts were charming, friendly,and fun, and the fiattered retailersenjoyed being asked to share theirknowledge. Once they had struck up arelationship with a retailer, the sisterswould offer to bring in samples for thestore to test. Eventually, the McDer-motts parlayed what they had learnedinto enough knowledge to start theirown retail line. By engaging the storeowners as teachers, the McDermottswere able to build a network of expertmentors who wanted to see the neo-phytes win. Thus neophytes, who con-stitute about 40% of successful pitchers,achieve their gains largely by sheer forceof personality.

Which of the three types is most likelyto succeed? Overwhelmingly, catcherslook for showrunners, though artists

and reach prominence there based ontheir social infiuence and impression-management skills, to the catchers'detriment.

Real creativi^ isn't so easily classified.Researchers such as Sternberg andLubart have found that people's implicittheories regarding the attributes ofcreative individuals are off the mark.Furthermore, studies have identifiednumerous personal attributes that fa-cilitate practical creative behavior. Forexample, cognitive fiexibility, a pen-chant for diversity, and an orientationtoward problem solving are signs ofcreativity; it simply isn't true that cre-ative types can't be down-to-earth.

Those who buy ideas, then, need to beaware that relying too heavily on stereo-types can cause them to overlook cre-ative individuals who can truly deliverthe goods. In my interviews with studioexecutives and agents, I heard numer-ous tales of people who had developedreputations as great pitchers but whohad trouble producing usable scripts.The same thing happens in business.

One well-known example occurred in1985, when Coca-Cola announced it waschanging the Coke formula. Based onpitches from market researchers whohad tested the sweeter, Pepsi-like "newCoke" in numerous focus groups, thecompany's top management decidedthat the new formula could effectivelycompete with Pepsi. The idea was a mar-keting disaster, of course. There was ahuge backlash, and the company wasforced to reintroduce the old Coke. In alater discussion of the case and the im-portance of relying on decision makerswho are both good pitchers and indus-try experts, Roberto Goizueta, Coca-Cola's CEO at the time, said to a groupof MBAs, in effect, that there's nothingso dangerous as a good pitcher with noreal talent.

If a catcher senses that he or she isbeing swept away by a positive stereo-type match, it's important to test thepitcher. Fortunately, assessing the vari-ous creative types is not difficult. In ameeting with a showrunner, for exam-ple, the catcher can test the pitcher'sexpertise and probe into past experi-ences, just as a skilled job interviewerwould, and ask how the pitcher wouldreact to various changes to his or heridea. As for artists and neophytes, thebest way to judge their ability is to askthem to deliver a finished product. InHollywood, smart catchers ask artistsand neophytes for finished scripts be-fore hiring them. These two types maybe unable to deliver specifics about costsor implementation, but a prototype canallow the catcher to judge quality, and itcan provide a concrete basis for furtherdiscussion. Finally, it's important to en-list the help of other people in vettingpitchers. Another judge or two can helpa catcher weigh the pitcher's-and theidea's-pros and cons and help safe-guard against hasty judgments.

One CEO of a Northern California de-sign firm looks beyond the obvious ear-marks of a creative type when hiring anew designer. She does this by askingnot only about successful projects butalso about work that failed and whatthe designer learned from the failures.That way, she can find out whether the

122 HARVARD BUSINESS REVIEW

prospect is capable of absorbing lessonswell and rolling with the punches of anunpredictable work environment. TheCEO also asks job prospects what theycollect and read, as well as what inspiresthem. These kinds of clues tell her aboutthe applicant's creative bent and think-ing style. If an interviewee passes theseinitial tests, the CEO has the prospectwork with the rest of her staff on a mockdesign project. These diverse interviewtools give her a good indication aboutthe prospect's ability to combine cre-ativity and organizational skills, andthey help her understand how well theapplicant will fit into the group.

One question for pitchers, of course,might be, "How do I make a positiveimpression if I don't fit into one of thethree creative stereotypes?" If you al-ready have a reputation for deliveringon creative promises, you probablydon't need to disguise yourself as ashowrunner, artist, or neophyte-a r^-sumi§ full of successes is the best callingcard of all. But if you can't rely on yourreputation, you should at least make anattempt to match yourself to the typeyou feel most comfortable with, if onlybecause it's necessary to get a foot inthe catcher's door. •

Another question might be, "What if1 don't want the catcher's input into thedevelopment of my idea?" This aspectof the pitch is so important that youshould make it a priority: Find a part ofyour proposal that you are willing toyield on and invite the catcher to comeup with suggestions. In fact, my obser-vations suggest that you should engagethe catcher as soon as possible in the de-velopment of the idea. Once the catcherfeels like a creative collaborator, theodds of rejection diminish.

Ultimately, the pitch will always re-main an imperfect process for commu-nicating creative ideas. But by beingaware of stereotyping processes and thevalue of collaboration, both pitchersand catchers can understand the differ-ence between a pitch and a hit. ^

Reprint R0309JTo order, see page 135.

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