Storygridding The Tipping Point
Recognizing Opportunity
1. Academic : These are essays/books that are written for and read by a very focused readership.
Shawn Coyne
9 minute read
1. Academic: These are essays/books that are written for and read by a very focused readership.
The groups of readers are clearly defined, but small in number. As Seth Godin would say, these are Tribal readers dedicated to very specific passions/professions.
2. How–To: These are generally prescriptive books “for the trade audience.” What that means is that these books are written for the general Joe who wants to learn the best way to plant his garden, without having to enroll at Penn State’s Agricultural school. Or a general Jane who wants to learn how to change the oil in her old Volkswagen Beetle without going to a mechanic’s trade school.
So these are about translating professional skills into a method and language a laymen can actually do herself.
The 4 Steps to Writing a Publishable Novel
Free, on-demand training from Shawn Coyne and Tim Grahl. About 60 minutes.
3. Narrative Nonfiction: These are completely Story based. That is, it uses the narrative techniques of fiction in order to contextualize reportage.
In other words, the writer/journalist collects the usual data involved in reporting a story. But instead of just presenting the traditional Who, What, Where, When and How? out of the old-school reporter’s toolbox, these Journalists focus on the WHY something happened.
They have a theory. A point of view. They collect the facts, sort them in their own minds, come up with a controlling idea about why something happened, and then construct a story using the facts as the pieces to build a story. Seabiscuit is not a biography of a horse. It’s a story about resilience and tenacity and love.
Which brings me to the fourth kind of nonfiction silo.
4. The Big Idea Book:
This is the big nonfiction blue plate special with heaping portions of Academic research, How-To, and Story all serving to create the entire global experience, the grand argument.
Gladwell does not fear academic research. His father took him into the belly of that beast any time he wanted as a child. And he knows the most important thing to impart as a nonfiction writer is simplicity. This from an interview with Charlie Rose:“I am the child of a mathematician and a therapist…My writing is shuttling back and forth between these two extremes, the obscure, but deeply fascinating regions of academia and this question of how do I communicate with a mass audience …My mother has always been my writing role model….all good writing must have one quality and that is clarity.”
Which is all well and good but what about narrative? How do you tell a Story about the tipping point? Whenever someone asks me to give a simple answer to the question, What is a Story? I usually quote David Mamet:"They start with a simple premise and proceed logically, and inevitably, toward a conclusion both surprising and inevitable.”
Gladwell must have asked himself if there was one like that for the tipping point. And then he remembered Jefferson Morley’s Double Reverse Discrimination piece was all about how there was as settlement of a lawsuit between prospective black tenants and the N.A.A.C.P. as plaintiffs against the 70 percent white/30 percent minority quota system imposed by the Starrett City development as defendant, way back in 1984. And that the parties came to agree that if Starrett City allowed minority tenants to eclipse the number of white tenants a “tipping point” would occur and all of the white people would leave. All hell would break loose and the entire development would become an unlawful mess. As The New York Times reported, “A lawyer representing the complex, Morris B. Abram, told a Federal judge in 1986 that a decision against Starrett City would tip the racial balance and ''create a segregated wasteland.'' Well, four years after the settlement, the Supreme Court ruled that Starrett City could not continue its racial quota system. So Starrett City tipped and segregated as predicted, right? Nope. The white flight never happened. Even as the percentages of white residents fell to 27% (the waiting list was overwhelmingly stocked with minority applicants when the Super Court stopped the quotas, so every apartment that opened up for years went to a person of color), the neighborhood remained safe and family friendly. So the whole tipping point was proven wrong. Right? Not if you can recognize that tipping is not a one way and then that's it phenomenon. What if the people who had been living at Starrett City since it opened in 1975 through 1988—about a generation’s worth of time—were affected by their surroundings? What if the context of their day-to-day life, year after year, changed their behavior. That is, what if the white people who lived on the same floor as black people discovered that a guy with a different skin pigment was as likely to be as friendly or as misanthropic as his white neighbor? More importantly, would the kids of white and black parents used to seeing all kinds of people everywhere they went have less fear of pale or tanned people? Well, duh? The answer was that by the time the quotas were 86ed, Starrett City had already tipped. The other way. There was no forthcoming wasteland. White people didn’t “flee.” Supply and demand just brought the population into equilibrium. After thirteen years living together in a safe environment with plenty of playgrounds and park benches to share, self-segregation was just not on anyone’s radar. I mean have you ever tried to move an apartment in New York City? You have to be some serious ass racist today to take on that burden just because the guy who lives next door is a different color. So what would happen if you concentrated on those little things that make life less stressful for people? The Starrett City development had always placed a high premium on a highly visible private security force, clean walkways, fresh paint…that kind of thing. Could you tip a bad situation into a good one? This was Malcolm Gladwell’s simple premise as he did the legwork necessary to deliver The Tipping Point for the June 3, 1996 edition of The New Yorker. From it’s very first sentence, it proceeded logically to a surprising and inevitable conclusion. By concentrating on the little things, we can tip things to the positive. So convincingly that he’d soon have a big advance to turn it into a book.