The Prof G Pod with Scott Galloway - No Mercy / No Malice: Storytelling

Episode Date: May 6, 2023

As read by George Hahn. https://www.profgalloway.com/storytelling/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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cards, savings accounts, mortgage rates, and more. NerdWallet, finance smarter. NerdWallet Compare Incorporated, NMLS 1617539. I'm Scott Galloway, and this is No Mercy, No Malice. People ask what is the most important skill you can teach your kids to ensure they are well-equipped for the world they will inherit. Is it Mandarin? Programming? STEM? My answer? A skill we don't teach in most schools. Communication. Storytelling. As read by George Hahn. I'm on a flight from London to LA where I'll kick off a six-city tour, then to San Diego, Seattle, Austin, NYC, and Miami. In each city, I'll stand in front of several hundred people with a hundred-plus charts peering down from behind.

Then I'll tell stories. My favorite part is the Q&A, which is a real test of skills. Plus, people are generally wonderful. Most are offline, super nice, and ask a question that reveals something about themselves, and we all feel closer. One query I often get is, What class or skill would you suggest our kids take or learn to compete in the modern economy, or some such. I think most expect me to say computer science, STEM courses, or some bullshit about the wonders of a liberal arts education that foments curiosity. But hands down, the skill I would grant my boys is singular.

Storytelling. The arc of evolution bends toward good storytellers. Communities with larger proportions of skilled storytellers experience greater levels of cooperation and procreation. Their evolutionary fitness is buttressed as storytelling translates to more efficient transmission of survival-relevant information. Storytellers themselves are more likely to receive acts of service from their peers, and among men, being skilled in storytelling increases attractiveness and perceived status to potential long-term mates. My dad used to tell me that men get turned on with their eyes,

women with their ears. It turns out his theory is backed by science. Data may be more truthful, but in the battle between narrative and numbers, most of the time humanity picks narrative. Among CEOs, 7 in 10 sometimes ignore data insights in favor of trusting their gut. More potent than statistics and cancer awareness campaigns are personal narratives. Advertisers know this and have unleashed the power of stories to increase cancer screening rates. Social change follows the narrative. The meatpacking industry famously

registered structural upheaval not in response to data on worker conditions, but Upton Sinclair's novel The Jungle. Today, attitudes towards gay and trans people are softening in many communities thanks to personal stories in television and other media. And the right is weaponizing this, creating hysteria about a supposed plague of boys playing girls' sports and using their bathrooms to harden those attitudes and whip up the base. Social media algorithms, at their core, connect bursts of media or scenes into a story. But they've learned that the stories we can't look away from are often those that validate our anxiety and depression, that confirm our suspicion that other people are awful. Storytelling has flourished, becoming a large and profitable industry. In Hollywood, a disagreement between the storytellers

and their corporate employers over how to divide those profits has taken late-night talk shows off the air, threatens the continuation of hundreds of television shows, and imperils swaths of the Southern California economy. Also, it's producing some excellent picket signs. Like everything else, this is partly an AI story. One of the points of contention is how to manage AI's role in writing. Video games have evolved from bouncing pixels off one another into a $250 billion industry dependent on stories that sprawl across dozens of games and are poured over and loved by generations of players.

Companies are defined by their stories, which can shape their economic output. Public relations is a $100 billion per year industry and growing. Amazon employs 1,900 in its PR and communications division. That's almost double the number of journalists at the paper their boss owns. Across Amazon, Apple, Google, Meta, and Microsoft, there are now almost as many PR, comms employees as there are screenwriters in America. However, they don't need to strike, as they're paid a shit ton. Sheryl Sandberg was paid $1.8 billion to tell stories of gender equality and personal loss to distract from the stories her algorithms were telling our teens.

Elon Musk built the ninth most valuable company in the world, not because he knew anything about electric cars, but because he's a master storyteller who inspired a team of world-class engineers to build a better one. I don't like Musk, but I'd still rather have dinner with him than Mary Barra. The previous sentence is not true, but it fits my narrative. I got my start building companies, telling stories. Later, I became a professor, where the students pay $170,000 in tuition for me to deliver a three-hour lullaby. Note, my agent, NYU, takes a 97% commission. Now I tell stories on a stage in front of 150,000 to 15,000 people who pay between $100,000 to $250,000

to see if I can weave my observations about tech, society, economics, and fatherhood into a story. And my largest source of wealth creation has been pre-IPO stock, awarded in exchange for helping CEOs craft a story they can tell institutional investors. Like most skills, storytelling is an amalgam of nature and nurture. My dad says he's been married and divorced four times. It's probably five or six. He's that kind kind of guy a strong jawline and mesmeric storytelling wrapped in glaswegian elocution at any gathering my father manages to draw a circle of people around him who listen to stories of his upbringing in depression era scotland peppered with jokes

that are impossible not to laugh at in 70ss California, this meant my dad could not only think with his dick, but also listen to it. He left us when I was eight, and I resented him a great deal. Not so much for not being there for me, he tried, but for how callous he was to my mom. It was difficult to embrace someone when the most important person in my life, my mom, viewed him as her enemy. What made it easier was recognizing that my ability to take my sons to the World Cup

and take care of the woman he left comes somewhat from my dad being my dad. There's no getting around it. I inherited some of his gift, and for the past 30 years, I've made my living off of it. I also inherited a bunch of his shittier qualities, but that's another post. There are ways to get better. Here are some thoughts on learning to fly and telling good stories. Listen. Good communication starts with the message, which comes from knowledge and observation.

In part, this means listening to others. Read widely and ask questions. But more important, listen to yourself. Cultivate an internal voice that tells you what's flawed or missing in the popular discourse. People prefer a counter-narrative. Be the hunter who tracks straight to where the prey is actually hiding. Elevate. Stress test your ideas against available data,

either in conversation or by writing it out. Science rests on this process, the scientific method of developing a falsifiable hypothesis, then conducting experiments to prove or disprove it. By the time I give a talk on a corporate campus in Redmond or a cruise ship next week, summit at sea, 10 plus people will have touched, listened to, fact-checked, designed the deck, often in groups. Most of the concepts we consider for this newsletter or my talks never see the light of day, exiled by data and other folks who make me seem much smarter than I am and save me from myself. Something I wish I'd

recognized earlier, greatness is in the agency of others. Frame. This is where innovation melds with communication. You have an idea you understand and believe in, but how do you express it in a compelling manner? Try things out. I've had success with extended metaphors, personal anecdotes, and presenting information visually. As I've gotten older, I've started to embrace the personal. It comes easily, as I'm a narcissist.

But also, people are looking for a connection, and a good way to connect with several hundred strangers at once, or with just one person, is to be vulnerable. Making people feel something bests any business insight. In a remote world swamped by a tsunami of digital information, the rare earth metal is humanity. Be fearless. The fear is real and it can end the game before it starts. People say it's fear of speaking. I think it's more than this. It's fear of rejection. The fear that someone will validate your insecurities and rebuff your advances,

be it initiating a conversation or presenting an idea. However, the willingness to subject yourself to rejection is like sleep. Without it, you can't succeed. I believe there are two main sources for my courage to get on stage and say provocative things. My mother, who showed me she loved me every day of my childhood, and my atheism, knowing that my relationships with the people I love and who let me love them are the only things that really matter. My 15-year-old son has mostly gone mute as he's decided everything and everyone is unfathomably uncool. I ask, demand, that he start a conversation when we're together or at the dinner table. My 12-year-old is a terrorist at home, but

painfully shy in public. I demand, and he hates this, that he speak to strangers when we're out of the house. On Sunday, we ventured to the Battersea Power Station mall, which was awesome, and I told him to speak to the guy staffing the help desk and shape our plan for attacking the mall. Not exactly a TED talk. Give it time. Deliver. Once you know what to say, say it. Embrace an economy of words. Ask yourself, how can we say this visually? Brevity makes things easier to understand and signals directionality and confidence. It demonstrates that you are actually saying something. Think of the last several emails you wrote. The length and formality of the email are inversely correlated to your comfort

with that person. My presentations are often 150 slides long, but I try to circumnavigate tech and society in 60 minutes. I assume the listener knows a lot and likes me, and I like them, so we can get right to the point. We're friends. What I want most for my two sons is not that they become Nobel Prize winners or members of Congress, but that they live rewarding lives full of meaningful relationships and that they are good citizens.

Most of that's on them. Parents tell themselves a story that kids are blocks of clay we mold. Pro tip, they come to you not fully formed, but in roughly their own shape. We're not engineers, but shepherds. In our limited time as their shepherd, we can arm them with skills that increase their prospects for success. Learning math, going to college, landing a job, all powerful tools.

But the weapon of mass attraction is the ability to communicate. I wish I'd figured this out earlier. Money, mates, and meaning are all moths to the flame of storytelling. Life is so rich. you use at work? The answer to that question is probably more complicated than you want it to be. The average U.S. company deploys more than 100 apps, and ideas about the work we do can be radically changed by the tools we use to do it. So what is enterprise software anyway? What is productivity software? How will AI affect both? And how are these tools changing the way we use our computers to make stuff, communicate, and plan for the future? In this three-part special series, Decoder is surveying the IT landscape presented by AWS.

Check it out wherever you get your podcasts. Hello, I'm Esther Perel, psychotherapist and host of the podcast Where Should We Begin, which delves into the multiple layers of relationships, mostly romantic. But in this special series, I focus on our relationships with our colleagues, business partners, and managers. Listen in as I talk to coworkers

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