The Dawn of Idea Diffusion

Welcome to a new era – the century of idea diffusion. For decades, the path to success seemed clear: advertise widely, interrupt people, gain distribution, sell products, and reinvest profits into more ads. This was the "TV-industrial complex," a model that informed generations. It worked by persistently exposing people to ads until they bought something.

However, things have changed dramatically. This old model has been "cancelled". We live in a world where consumers are inundated with choices and starved for time. The natural response to this overwhelm is to simply ignore most of the noise. Companies are spending millions on advertising, only for their messages to be completely ignored because people either don't have the problem the product solves, or they already have a solution they prefer. Even major corporations like Coke Japan are releasing new products constantly, unsure of what will stick. The core problem? Consumers don't care about you; they care about themselves. The traditional approach of trying to grab everyone's attention is no longer effective.

So, if interrupting the masses is out, what's in? The answer lies in mastering the art of spreading ideas.

In the past, getting your idea out there meant buying advertisements, interrupting people's lives with your message, hoping that sheer repetition would lead to sales. This "TV-industrial complex" was the dominant strategy, creating a cycle where profits were funnelled back into more advertising to drive further sales. It led to situations like a brand manager spending £100 million trying to interrupt people with TV commercials, magazine ads, and spam. 

The fundamental shift is that this model no longer works. Consumers are now equipped with too many choices and far too little time. Their natural defence mechanism is to ignore anything that isn't directly relevant or compelling to them. Imagine driving past a cow – you wouldn't stop, because you've seen cows before; they're invisible, boring. This is how most marketing messages are now perceived. They're just more cows in the field.

But what if the cow was purple?

The key to success in this new landscape isn't about having the best patent or the most efficient factory; it's about whether you can get your idea to spread. And what makes an idea spread? It needs to be "remarkable". This isn't just about something being "neat"; it literally means "worth making a remark about". If it's not remarkable, it will be invisible, like the ordinary cow.

Consider the example of sliced bread. Invented in the 1910s, it was a complete failure for 15 years because no one knew about it or wanted it. It only succeeded when Wonder figured out how to spread the idea. Similarly, two of the hottest cars on the market, or successful retail businesses, have nothing in common except that they are different. We are all now in the "fashion business" – no matter what we do, our products or ideas need to stand out and be unique.

Remarkable ideas can transform industries. Aeron chairs, for instance, sold a billion dollars' worth by reinventing the concept of a chair, turning it into a status symbol. Lionel Poilâne, a famous baker in Paris, created bread that initially wasn't what people expected, but because it was "neat" and "remarkable," it slowly spread by word of mouth until it became the official bread of three-star restaurants. These successes weren't driven by advertising; they were driven by being truly remarkable.

So, if you want your idea to spread, you need to be the purple cow that grabs attention and sparks conversation.

While being remarkable is crucial, you also need to know who to be remarkable for. The traditional approach of making "average products for average people" and trying to appeal to the "centre" of the market is no longer effective in a world where the old marketing complex is broken. Instead, the winning strategy is to market to the people who truly care.

These are the individuals who are obsessed with something. They possess what's called "otaku" – a fantastic Japanese word that describes the intense desire of someone who is so obsessed they'd drive across Tokyo just to try a new ramen noodle place. When you speak to these people, they will listen because it's about them, about their passion. And, if you're fortunate, they will then tell their friends, and your idea will begin to spread across the wider market.

Think about hot sauce versus mustard. There's a "hot sauce otaku," which is why there are countless varieties of hot sauce. But there's no "mustard otaku," so while you could make interesting mustard, people don't, because no one is obsessed with it enough to tell their friends. Krispy Kreme successfully implements this by targeting people with otaku in a city first, then spreading outwards. Even high-ticket items like a £112 yoyo that sleeps for 12 minutes, or the world's loudest car stereo, find their audience among those with the otaku who then evangelise to others. Steve Jobs' keynotes, drawing 50,000 obsessed fans globally, keep Apple in business because those fans spread the word. Pearl Jam sells millions of albums direct to fans with otaku, who then tell their friends. Even a £10,000 hospital crib or a £35 paint can that's remarkable because of its design, succeeds by being talked about.

To wrap up, here are some essential principles for getting your ideas to spread effectively in today's world:

• Design is free when you get to scale: People who create remarkable things often figure out how to leverage design to their advantage. Design isn't just aesthetics; it's about solving problems and making something worth noticing. Dutch Boy paint, for instance, became a fortune-making success by reinventing their paint can, making it remarkable, not by just adding new ads.

• The riskiest thing you can do now is be safe: Playing it safe, like many large corporations that aim for "average products for average people," is actually the biggest risk. The safe bet now is to operate at the fringes, to be bold and remarkable. This is why Silk tripled its sales not by advertising, but by simply placing its non-refrigerated product next to milk in the refrigerated section – it was remarkable and stood out. Frank Gehry redefined architecture and transformed a city's economy by designing a building so remarkable people travelled globally to see it.

• Being "very good" is one of the worst things you can do: Being merely "very good" is boring and average; it won't be noticed. Whether you're making music, designing buildings, or writing a sociological tract, if it's just "very good," it won't work because no one will pay attention. The author's own failure with a record label stemmed from marketing new music to people who owned £20,000 stereos but didn't actually like new music. He marketed to the wrong "who cares" audience.

Ultimately, it comes down to understanding what people genuinely want and then giving it to them in a way that is so different, so unique, that it can't be ignored.

The age of interruptive, mass-market advertising is behind us. Success today isn't about shouting louder or reaching more people; it's about creating something truly remarkable – something worth talking about.

By understanding that consumers don't care about your problems, but about their own interests and passions, you can shift your focus from broad, generic appeals to targeting those specific individuals with "otaku" – those who are obsessed and eager to share their discoveries. Embrace design, take calculated risks, and dare to be different from "very good" and "average".

Whether you're selling coffee, writing articles, flying hot air balloons, or running a business, the principles remain the same: Find your purple cow, make it stand out, and let the conversations begin. The future belongs to those who can make their ideas spread, one remarkable interaction at a time.