The first question an innovator must answer is not “can I make it?” but rather, “should I?” This has become something of a mantra among CEOs I work with, as a needful protection against the gravitational pull of the organizational bureaucracy.

In the past year, I've witnessed a fascinating phenomenon across organizations embracing GenAI. Two "identical twins" in the AI race, similar in their approach to AI adoption -- engaged senior leadership, extensive training, numerous opportunities for AI integration -- whose outcomes couldn't be more different.

Quick: come up with an innovative idea!

If you’re anything like the thousands of students I’ve coached in the last fifteen years, panic alarms just went off.

But the truth is, the creative process is hardly a mystery – in fact, it can be broken down into three simple steps.

I’ve noticed a troubling trend among organizational leaders: they’re hyping GenAI to subordinates, clients, and customers alike, but they’re woefully inexperienced themselves. Time to start practicing what we preach.

Last week, I had the pleasure of delivering keynotes to two remarkable audiences of scholars and entrepreneurs. One thing was clear: folks have legitimate concerns about AI. But my strong belief is that it’s a dangerous mistake to wait to dive In, even amidst legit concerns.

Puzzled by underwhelming results despite your expertise? Discover the surprising insights from a groundbreaking study that can help you tackle challenges and achieve better outcomes.

One critical reason folks in organizations aren’t imagining radical new applications of GenAI is, their imaginations aren’t stimulated. My recommendation might fly in the face of convention, but it’s been demonstrated highly effective in both this AI-moment and in times past.

To stimulate innovation, ideas and experiments are critical. But how to free up resources necessary to drive new initiatives forward? Start by pruning back some work that’s past its prime. Here’s how.

Ed Catmull reveals the great secret behind Pixar’s success: they try before they’re perfect. “All our movies suck to begin with. Our job is to take them from suck to not suck.”

Seinfeld brilliantly details the core molecular structure of the creative process: equal parts idea generation and scientific testing. And he approaches the process with yeoman’s determination.

Business leaders should take a page out of one of the most brutally-straightforward innovation laboratories in the world: lessons from Jerry Seinfeld and Steve Martin’s stand-up routines.

Bernard Arnault became the richest man in the world — surpassing Musk, Bezos, and Buffet — not by focusing on profitability, but by foregrounding desirability. We all should.

Steve Martin’s reflection routine as a fledgling magician gives a masterclass in learning through experimentation: if you don’t reflect, you can’t connect the dots in unexpected ways.

One of the greatest misconceptions in innovation is that folks start with a good idea. How rarely that’s true. Here’s to starting, followed by enlightened iteration.

Many individual innovators, and the vast majority of organizations, expend far too many resources answering the illusive question, “Can it even be done?” Instead, they should invest a fraction of the effort to answer a simpler, more important question first.

Innovation is a numbers game, which is music to my ears since I’m a statistics nerd. One of my favorite counterintuitive statistical truths is Bayes’ Theorem. Study it to beat the entrepreneurial odds.

To arrive at a breakthrough, you have to take a break from the breakneck pace. Without reflection, important insights get missed. Just ask Steve Martin…

Volume and velocity are essential to breaking through. How do you increase both? Steve Jobs advocated an unexpected tactic…

The most popular post in my Stanford Slack channel illustrates a profound source of creative wisdom: “Would anyone be interested in staying after class tomorrow to brainstorm experiments?”

Spectacular entrepreneurs craft clever experiments. And a robust experimentation practice demands a rigorous ideation ritual. At Stanford, this is how folks build the muscle.