Linchpin_ Are You Indispensable_ - Seth Godin [67]
Using digital loops, he performs on eight guitars at the same time. Barefoot on stage, he
mixes the sounds, carefully setting a guitar on the floor and walking over to a mixing
board to bring up one sound or another, all live, with no prerecording or gimmicks.
His concert is a gift. There's no way any one person in the audience can repay Keller. The
ticket sales and the applause pale in comparison to the preparation, effort, and sheer
genius Keller puts into each performance.
And online, his music is free--free to download, free to share.
The fact that we can't repay him is precisely why his gift is so valuable, and why so many
people are eager to pay for the privilege of being in the room with him. Keller builds a
tribe by giving, not by taking.
As I wrote in my previous book, Tribes, the new form of marketing is leadership, and
leadership is about building and connecting tribes of like-minded people. Keller's
generosity to his tribe doesn't only connect him to them; it connects the tribe members to
one another. One fan is automatically the friend of the next, if for no other reason than to
share the effects of Williams's generosity.
Capitalism has taught us that every transaction has to be fair, an even trade for goods or
services delivered. What Keller and other artists demonstrate is that linchpin thinking is
about delivering gifts that can never be adequately paid for.
There Are No Artists on the Assembly Line
As soon as it is part of a system, it's not art.
Artists shake things up. They invent as they go; they respond to inputs and create
surprising new outputs. That's why MBAs often have trouble pigeonholing artists. Artists
can't be easily instructed, predicted, or measured, and that's precisely what you are taught
to do in business school.
Consumers love artists. So do investors. That's because art represents a chance to
improve the status quo, not just make it cheaper. Art builds a community, and the
community creates value for all.
When U2 goes on tour, the tour is an opportunity to do new art every night. The moment
the band turns the tour into a cookie-cutter system to earn money, it ceases to be art and
becomes a souvenir factory.
There are services online that will take your photograph and turn it into an Andy Warholstyle silkscreen. While this might be artistic, it's not art. Any time you can say "xxxstyle," it has ceased to be art and started to be a process.
Selfish
Robert Ringer wrote Looking Out for Number One, one of the most damaging business
books I've ever read. His salute to selfishness was a product of its time, and it rubbed a
lot of people the wrong way.
Becoming a linchpin is not an act of selfishness. I see it as an act of generosity, because it
gives you a platform for expending emotional labor and giving gifts. There are plenty of
bosses who fear the idea of indispensable employees and would instead encourage you to
focus on teamwork. "Teamwork" is the word bosses and coaches and teachers use when
they actually mean, "Do what I say." It's not teamwork to stand by and do whatever the
captain or the supervisor tells you to. It might be cooperative or compliant or useful, but
it's not teamwork.
The only way I know of to become a successful linchpin is to build a support team of
fellow linchpins. The goal is to have an impact, and while it starts with the person (this is
my gift, my effort), it works only when it is gratefully accepted by your team and your
customers.
The Curse of Reciprocity
It's human nature. If someone gives you a gift, you need to reciprocate.
If someone invites you over for dinner, you bring cookies. If people give you a Christmas
gift, you can't rest until you give them one back.
It's reciprocity that turned the gift system into the gift economy. Suddenly, giving a gift
becomes an obligation, one demanding payment, not a gift at all. So marketers use the
reciprocity impulse against us, using gifts as a come-on.
This can cripple your art.