24 blueberries
Even numbers are important in my house.
It began with my daughter counting her food, making sure everything was consumed (and if possible, plated) in even numbers. 2 slices of pizza, 4 chicken nuggets, 8 broccoli florets, 16 tater tots. It’s an easy behavior for an outsider to question and even challenge because it feels so unusual and unnecessary. But that’s just our brains talking, when our brains should be listening. Because to my daughter’s brain even numbers of food the most usual and necessary thing imaginable.
I promise this is about strategy. I’ll get there.
Inside the neurodivergence community you pretty commonly hear people refer to it not as a liability but as a superpower - there are ways that the brains of neurodivergent people work that allows them to work differently. Maybe they are capable of prolonged periods of intense focus, or they focus on details other people might overlook, or they find repetition comforting not boring, like eating the same thing for breakfast every day.
I prefer to think of neurodivergence as neither a liability nor an asset - it’s just evidence of the way some people’s brains operate. In fact I don’t much like the term neurodivergence. The “diverge” part is a little othering, as it implies not diverging neurologically is normal. I read the term “neurospicy” once and like it better.
The very first thing I do when I work with a new strategist is try to understand how their brain works. We’ll spend time talking about things like ADHD, introversion, autism, anxiety and executive function. And if they’re willing they’ll take a Gallup Strengthsfinder evaluation to throw a little more light on what aspects of strategy come naturally to them, and which parts take more work.
Knowing this helps them see which parts of the strategic process they should lean into, because they’re naturally adept. And it helps us see why they struggle with other parts. Sometimes this means we need to come up with new processes. Which, frankly is a skill all strategists should have anyway.
But knowing how your brain works doesn’t just mean you know where to focus you efforts at improving. It also helps you steer clear of some work that you might always struggle with. Yes there are some parts of the strategist’s job that are non-negotiable if you want to be successful: identifying insights, building a persuasive narrative, comfort with ambiguity. But if you dread speaking in front of large groups or you’re not great at creating a sense of ease with research participants, that doesn’t mean your strategy career is over. It just means you know the situations you need to avoid, or ask for help. Not every weakness is a development opportunity.
It took me decades to finally figure out how my own strategist brain works, and I wish I’d known years earlier. But now I at least know why I’ve half-consciously counted out exactly 24 blueberries to add to the yogurt I have for breakfast every morning.