Had I read Shahn’s “Nonconformity” piece—which was taken from a talk he had given at Harvard the previous spring—it would have made clear why Paul and I were onto something in those early years at the Deli. Shahn is adamant in his belief that those who really do something special are almost certainly going to be nonconformists. And, he makes clear, that’s a good thing:
NONCONFORMITY is not only a desirable thing, it is an actual thing. One need only remark that all art is based upon nonconformity … and that every great historic change has been based upon nonconformity, has been bought either with the blood or with the reputation of nonconformists. Without nonconformity we would have had no Bill of Rights nor Magna Carta, no public education system … no science at all, no philosophy, and considerably fewer religions. … to create anything at all in any field, and especially anything of outstanding worth, requires nonconformity.
A few months ago, I wrote a bunch about courage; this piece reflects what courage often looks like when it’s put into practice. In the context of what Ben Shahn was advocating all the way back in 1957, it’s about nonconformity. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see clearly that creative and caring nonconformity is an essential element of what has made our business what it is. And, as Shahn says so strongly in his essay, it is a critical component of anything really special. Going with the flow, sticking with the mainstream may be easier, and often leads to short-term “success,” but it rarely has the kind of memorable impact that Paul and I (and probably you) were after. I agree with Ben Shahn—whether it’s art, or business, or basketball, or anything else, he makes clear, it’s the nonconformists that we remember many years later.
I’ll share more about Ben Shahn here in a bit, but when I think about courage and conformity, I can’t help but return to the words of 20th-century psychologist Rollo May. In the fall of 1975, May published the tenth of what would eventually be 15 books he authored. In it, May writes,
Many people feel they are powerless to do anything effective with their lives. It takes courage to break out of the settled mold, but most find conformity more comfortable. This is why the opposite of courage in our society is not cowardice, it's conformity.
Next year will mark the 50th anniversary of the release of Dr. May’s book, but the challenge he poses for us is just as important today. As May reminds us, “No nation of liberty is made up of conformists.” And, I would suggest, the same holds true for companies as well: No free thinking, creatively inclusive organization is made mostly of conformists. Still, it is a challenge to embrace nonconformity and live it day by day. Social pressure comes at us from all sides. We’d been in business at Zingerman’s for something like 10 years—doing millions of dollars a year in sales, with over a hundred staff members and a good bit of national press to boot—before I had the courage to tell my mother clearly and unequivocally, that, despite her desires, I was not going to go to law school. Getting to greatness almost always requires us to push back against others’ expectations. Nonconformity, it’s become clear to me, is an essential prerequisite for making great things happen.
I have a natural attraction to the strange and different, the trendsetters, the people and organizations that have the emotional and intellectual wherewithal to do something special. In a world of increasing sameness, what I’m almost always drawn to are the places where there’s that special energy, a sense of aliveness, of something cool, creative, and compelling. … Wherever you find ’em, they’re the businesses that are the total opposite of those standardized settings in strip malls and chain stores.
Considering special things, breaking molds, and not simply conforming to social norms, this week marks the one-year anniversary of the formal rollout of the Zingerman’s Perpetual Purpose Trust (ZPPT). If you were to ask me, “How does it feel, a year down the road, to have chosen a path to the future that is far less traveled—to have given something you have been a part of for so long to the organization?” I’d answer enthusiastically, “It feels good!” It is intellectually, ethically, and spiritually almost exactly what I had long imagined, hoped for, and worked for. Honestly, it’s pretty awesome. And yet, truth be told, I still have those critical voices going in my head. While great things begin with nonconformity, there is a cost. For me at least, it causes me concern and self-doubt. I love to do things differently, but even when I do, I still doubt myself. Mostly, I’ve learned to just brush the voices aside, but when something significant happens, they start back in: Would we regret the decision to essentially gift the “Zingerman’s brand” to the organization? Why would we do this when we could have gotten so much more money for the brand by selling it to some big mainstream business like everyone else does?
Fortunately, I’ve mostly learned to let the voices have their say, and then keep going ahead anyway. Nonconformity or not, I know in my gut that the criticisms I hear in my head are not even remotely close to reality. I share them here because I believe it’s important to know that everyone has some version of these voices. And that when we opt not to conform to the norm, the voices will nearly always kick in. While, on Instagram, it may look like everyone else is happily cruising along, my experience is that nearly every person I’ve met is, in their own way, struggling. Seth Godin, who has made a wonderful life out of cultivating nonconformity and effectively encouraging the rest of us to do the same, writes,
While we’re doing it, it’s easy to imagine that those around us are completely sure of themselves, moving forward in a well-lit space.
In fact, if you visit a growing company, a useful school or anywhere that growth is happening, you’ll quickly see that everyone is stumbling forward in the shadows.
That’s part of the deal.
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