I want you to picture a scenario. It is Tuesday
morning. You are completely in the zone. Oh,
yeah. Maybe you're wrestling with this massive
complex spreadsheet, or you're grading a huge
stack of papers, or maybe you're just finally
getting to that email backlog. You have a system
going, you have a flow, and then knock, knock.
The absolute sound of doom. Right. You look up,
and there they are, the one colleague. The eyes
are a little too bright. The energy is a little
too manic for 10 in the morning. And they drop
the line that strikes fear into the heart of
literally every competent worker. They say, I
have a great idea. Oh, man. I can physically
feel everyone listening just wincing right now.
It is such a specific workplace archetype, isn't
it? The person who honestly thinks the idea is
the hard part. Exactly. But being the polite
professional you are, you humor them. You say
something like, OK, that sounds interesting.
To make that happen, you'd need to draft a proposal,
secure the budget, probably coordinate with IT.
And then they hit you with the closer, the line
that just stops the conversation call. They go,
oh, no, no, I thought you would do that. I'm
more of a big idea person. I come up with the
concepts. I let others implement them. They're
big idea person. It's really fascinating how
pervasive this character is. Whether you're in
education, tech, corporate, or nonprofit, they
are everywhere. And honestly, it's usually the
source of a lot of resentment. A massive resentment.
Right. But what if I told you that this annoying
character might actually be the absolute key
to your next promotion? See, that sounds like
a total paradox. But that is exactly what we
are unpacking today. We're doing a deep dive
into a really provocative piece by Dr. Gary Ackerman
from his site, Hack Science Education. The article
is titled, On the Limited Value of Big Idea People.
Anne Ackerman is a veteran. He has been in educational
technology and leadership for decades. He's seen
all the trends come and go. Yeah, he's been around
the block. Exactly. What I love about this source
is that he isn't just venting, though. I mean,
he does vent a little bit. He is actually breaking
down the physics of why these interactions fail,
and much more importantly, how you can hack the
system. So the mission for today's deep dive
is pretty clear. We're going to figure out if
the big idea person is a trap you should avoid
at all costs or if they are a ladder you can
climb. Because Ackerman suggests it depends entirely
on where you are in your own career. It's a really
nuanced take. It completely challenges that binary
of idea guy equals bad. Let's start with the
bad, though, because it's fun to talk about.
Yeah. Ackerman opens with this anecdote that
just recently happened to him. A colleague pitches
a quote unquote great idea, but interrupts Ackerman's
advice on how to actually execute it by declaring
they are a visionary, not a doer. Right. And
Ackerman immediately connects this to a principal
he knew 20 years ago who said the exact same
thing. It's a pattern that spans decades. And
I think we really need to pause on Ackerman's
critique here because it is scathing but so accurate.
He says the ideas presented by both the recent
colleague and that old principal were, you know,
fine. They addressed real problems. But, and
this is the crucial part, they were not recognizably
innovative. Which is a very polite way of saying,
you aren't Steve Jobs, isn't it? It really is.
I think we often confuse pointing out a problem
with having an idea. Yeah. Saying traffic is
bad is not an invention. Saying we should have
flying cars is also not really an invention if
you have absolutely no clue how to build an engine.
Ackerman points out that these big idea people
usually just identify a gap. They see something
that is broken. But the gap between this is broken
and here is the fix is just... Massive. Right.
It's the execution gap. And Ackerman turned both
of these people down. He told them his plate
was full. But let's dig into why these projects
usually fail. Because it's not just because the
doers are busy. Ackerman hints at a very specific
skill deficiency in these self -proclaimed visionaries.
It is the difference between an architect and
an engineer. But honestly, much worse. Imagine
an architect who sketches a beautiful, gravity
-defying building but has zero knowledge of physics
or materials. They just hand the sketch to you
and say, build this. Good luck. Right, good luck.
That is what these big idea people are doing.
Ackerman notes that they often entirely lack
the project management skills to actually implement
anything. Project management sounds so dry though.
What does that actually mean in this specific
context? It means they don't know how to break
a vision down into milestones. They don't know
how to anticipate logistical friction. They have
no idea how to budget time or political capital
within an organization. They just see the shiny
destination. So when they say, I'm an idea person,
what they are really admitting is, I don't know
how to get us from here to there. Yes, exactly.
And that puts the burden 100 % on the person
they are pitching to. Which is wild when you
think about it. It is. And that's why Ackerman,
at this stage in his career, says no. He knows
that if he says yes, he isn't just helping out.
He is going to be doing the work of the architect,
the engineer, the construction crew, and the
safety inspector. Well, the big idea person probably
stands at the ribbon cutting ceremony holding
the giant scissors. Which is the absolute nightmare
scenario for any competent professional. You
do the work, they get the glory. And usually
the project fails anyway because they don't support
you properly. Ackerman mentions the principal's
project from 20 years ago just never happened.
It evaporated. Vaporware. Because without execution,
ideas are just vapor. In a professional setting,
an idea without an implementation plan is effectively
worthless. It might even have negative value
because it distracts people from the work that
actually matters. Completely agree. Okay, so
we've established the trap. If you are a competent
professional, the idea guy is a time vampire.
You should run away. But hold on, Ackerman pivots
here. He says there is one specific strategy.
one specific time in your life where you should
actually look at that idea guy and say, yes,
absolutely. The newbie exception. This is where
the article gets really strategic and honestly
quite brilliant. So paint the picture for us.
When does the math change on this? The math changes
when you are brand new to the field, when you
are hungry. When you have skills, maybe you're
great at organizing or writing code or designing
curriculum But you have no wins on your professional
scoreboard. You have no reputation. You're just
a ghost in the machine You're a ghost and the
big idea person. They have a serious problem.
They cannot get the veterans like Ackerman to
help them because the veterans are too busy or
too smart to fall for it. So the big idea person
is absolutely desperate for labor. They are looking
for someone, anyone, to build their rocket ship.
And Ackerman uses his own life as the case study
here. We're going back to 1988. 1988, the era
of big hair and shoulder pads. Ackerman is a
young educator. He is just starting out. And
there is an assistant principal, let's just call
her the AP, who has a major mandate. She needs
to implement a drug and alcohol prevention curriculum.
Oh, man, I remember those. The whole just -say
-no -dare era. It was a massive deal in schools
at the time. Lots of grant money, lots of intense
pressure from the community to just do something.
So the AP comes to Ackerman. And notice the dynamic
here. She is the idea person, or at least the
person with the mandate. And she wants him to
do everything. Right, she asks him to do a lot.
She wants him to go to the training. start using
it with his middle school students. And this
is the really big one. She wants him to help
other teachers plan lessons for it. Whoa. That
is not just, hey, do this in your classroom.
That is, hey, lead the faculty. Exactly. She
was asking a total rookie to lead seasoned veterans.
Now, if Ackerman had been cynical, he could have
easily said, wait, isn't that your job? You're
the administrator. Why am I doing your job for
you? Which is exactly what he would say today.
100%. But in 1988, He said yes, and he admits
in the article he doesn't even remember if she
was a big idea person in the pejorative sense.
It really didn't matter. What mattered was the
vacuum she created. She created a space for leadership
that she couldn't fill herself, and he stepped
right into it. And what did that actually do
for him? It launched his entire career. It was
his entry point into being a teacher of teachers.
It allowed him to step out of the isolated classroom
and become a central resource for the entire
school. He wasn't just Gary, the new teacher
anymore. He was the guy who knew how to run the
new program. So he essentially used her big idea
or her lack of execution skills as a Trojan horse.
to build his own authority. Precisely. And this
is the transactional mindset we really need to
talk about. I think a lot of young professionals
feel like they're being exploited when a boss
hands them a big messy project. And, to be totally
fair, they are being used for their labor. Yeah,
that's just a fact. But Ackerman argues that
you can completely flip the script. You can use
them for their platform. It's a trade. You give
them the completed project so they look really
good to their bosses. In exchange, they become
your advocate. And that advocacy is incredibly
powerful. Ackerman points out that when you follow
through on a big idea person's vision, you make
them look like a genius. You validate their existence
in the company. In return, they will promote
your work forever. Because it serves them. Exactly.
They'll say, look at what we did. And sure, they
take some credit, but everyone in the building
knows who did the actual heavy lifting. You get
a champion in the organization. There's another
layer to this 1988 story that I found really
liberating when reading the piece. Ackerman mentions
that he wasn't even that interested in drug and
alcohol prevention. Yes. This is such a critical
point for the early career folks listening. We
are constantly told to follow our passion. Everything
has to be purpose -driven. But Ackerman was not
passionate about this topic. He writes that he
wasn't heavily invested in it. It wasn't where
he wanted to end up 20 years later. So why do
it? I mean, if you don't care about the topic,
isn't it just drudgery? No, because the topic
was just the vehicle. He was learning how to
drive. He was learning how to manage a massive
project, how to train adults, how to navigate
complex school politics. Once the grant funding
expired, the project was quietly dropped. It
vanished. But the skills he learned, the reputation
he built, those stayed with him forever. That
is a really healthy reframing. I think we put
so much pressure on our first few projects to
be these definitive statements of who we are.
Like, this is my legacy. But Ackerman is saying,
no, this is just practice. It is entirely low
stakes. Think about it. If the drug prevention
program failed, well, it was the AP's idea anyway.
You were just following orders. If it succeeded,
Ackerman is the star executioner. It's a high
reward, relatively low risk scenario for the
newbie. But this brings us to the slightly darker
side of the realization. As you're doing this
work, as you're building the rocket for someone
else, you start to notice things. Ackerman has
this quote in the article that really stopped
me in my tracks. It's almost noir. Oh, I know
the exact one you mean. When you get into the
real world, you discover who has lied to you
and about what they have lied. It gave me chills.
It sounds like something a greedy detective says
while standing in the rain. What is he really
getting at there? What are the lies? It is a
heavy statement. I think the lie he is referring
to is the myth of competence at the top. When
we are students or when we are just entering
the workforce, we have this ingrained assumption
that the people in charge actually have a plan.
We assume that if someone has a fancy title like
director or principal or VP, they know how to
execute. We assume meritocracy is real and functioning
perfectly. And then you meet the idea guy. And
then you meet the idea guy who literally cannot
open a PDF. Or who thinks strategy means writing
a vague buzzword on a whiteboard, and you realize,
oh, there is no plan. They are entirely making
it up. They are relying on people like me to
figure it out for them. That sounds incredibly
disillusioning. Just crushing. It is. But Ackerman
frames it as a necessary disillusionment. It
is the exact moment you grow up professionally.
He says that during the time you are executing
someone else's project, you are simultaneously
discovering what actually matters to you. You
are seeing the system for what it is, imperfect,
messy, highly human. So while you're grinding
away on the AP's project, you're quietly taking
notes. You're thinking, OK, I see how they messed
up that budget. I definitely won't do that. I
see how they alienated that team. I won't do
that. Exactly. You are actively building your
own professional identity in the shadow of their
project. You are learning the actual truth about
how work gets done, which is often very different
from how they teach in college. And that leads
directly to the final stage of this evolution,
the graduation. Outgrowing the idea person. Shushed.
Ackerman writes, if you find a big idea person
who uses you to build your own project, you also
learn lessons that make you never need them again.
That is the ultimate power move. You reach a
point where you simply don't need their vision
because you have your own vision, and crucially,
you have the skills to execute it. You become
the visionary doer. You become the total package.
And once you reach that level, the idea guy actually
becomes obsolete. In fact, they transition from
a stepping stone back to an annoyance. And that
perfectly explains why the current day Ackerman.
Dr. Ackerman, the established expert, says a
flat no to the colleague at the door. It's not
just that he's busy, it's that the relationship
no longer makes any logical sense. Correct. He
writes, you will be too busy implementing your
own ideas to bother with others again. The transactional
value is totally gone. You don't need their platform.
You have built your own. You don't need their
advocacy. Your work speaks for itself now. So
it is really a life cycle. You start as the apprentice.
You need the idea guy to give you a sandbox to
play in. You use them to learn the ropes. Then
you become the journeyman. You realize the idea
guy is actually quite limited. You see the lies.
And finally, you become the master. You shut
the door because you are actually getting real
work done. That is a perfect summary of the dynamic.
And I think it completely reframes the intense
frustration we feel when that knock comes on
the door. Instead of just feeling annoyed, you
can look at that person and ask a deeply strategic
question. Where am I on the timeline? Right.
Is this person a vampire or are they a stepping
stone? Exactly. If you are established, if you
have your own projects and funding, the answer
is you are a vampire. Go away. But if you are
new, if you are desperately looking for your
big break, maybe the answer is come on in. Tell
me all about this great idea because I am going
to use it to build my resume. It takes all the
emotion right out of it. It's not about being
a pushover or a victim. It's about coldly calculating.
the return on investment of your labor. And that
is often how the best, most resilient careers
are built. Not through some grand, perfect plan
where you only work on things you were deeply
passionate about from day one, but by seizing
a messy opportunity like a boring drug prevention
curriculum in 1988 and wringing every single
drop of value out of it. Ackerman's 1988 experience
wasn't glamorous at all. He admits he doesn't
even remember if the AP was particularly visionary.
But it worked. It launched a trajectory that
led to him becoming a leading voice in his field.
Not bad for a project he wasn't heavily invested
in. And it serves as a great reminder that sometimes
sheer competence is far more important than passion,
especially early on. Competence buys you the
freedom to pursue passion later. I love that
phrasing. Competence buys you freedom. So let's
bring this all back to you, the listener. We
have all got that colleague. We have all faced
the big idea trap. But now we actually have a
framework to handle it. We do. And I think the
key takeaway here is to be brutally honest with
yourself about your own capabilities. What do
you mean by that specifically? Well, the real
danger is thinking you are the master when you
are still very much the apprentice. If you turn
down the idea guy because you think you're way
too good for the grunt work but you have no actual
portfolio to back that up, you might just be
stalling your own growth. That's a tough pill
to swallow. So don't be a snob until you've actually
earned the right to be a snob. Essentially, yes.
Earn your cynicism. Ackerman earned his no. He
spent decades in the fringes. He built the systems.
He trained the teachers. So when he says I'm
busy, he really means it. If you say I'm busy
just because you don't want to do the hard work,
well, you might be missing the boat entirely.
So before we wrap up this deep dive, I want to
leave you with a bit of a challenge. A self audit,
if you will. Let's do it. Think about your current
role right now. Think about your resume. Do you
have that big win yet? Do you have that project
where you can confidently point to it and say
I took that from zero to one? I built that. And
if the honest answer is no, then I want you to
look around your office tomorrow. Find the idea
guy. Find the person who is loud, energetic,
and completely incapable of executing anything.
Go knock on their door. Run towards the danger.
Seriously. Ask them, what are you working on?
Do you need help making that real? It might be
painful. It will probably be annoying. But it
might be the absolute fastest way to get to where
you want to go. And if the answer is yes, if
you already have those wins, if you are already
driving your own ship, then feel free to lock
the door, put on your noise canceling headphones,
and completely ignore that knock. You have earned
it. You definitely have. And chances are you're
way too busy actually working to listen to their
pitch anyway. Dr. Gary Ackerman's insights really
turned a daily workplace annoyance into a master
class in career strategy. It has been a real
pleasure unpacking this with you today. Likewise.
It's always fun to look behind the curtain of
the real world. Thanks for diving deep with us.
We will see you on the next one.