The Things No One Teaches You (Episode 101): You Could Just Ask
Two showrunners have completely opposite preferences when it comes to studio notes. Neither is wrong. So why do execs try to guess — or worse, impose their own preferences — when they could just ask?
When I was an executive at Sony Pictures Television, during the heady and irrationally exuberant early-to-mid-Streaming Wars era, things may not have been as cushy as they were for the generation of execs that immediately preceded me (with their car allowances and their generously sized offices), but the job still came with some perks. One of those was our annual retreat weekend at a fancy hotel in Orange County — just removed enough from regular life to feel like a genuine retreat, at the least expense and distance necessary to achieve the effect.
These weekends were well worth whatever the company paid for them. From indulging in multiple “market price” seafood towers at a team dinner, to swapping stories over drinks long after the hotel bar closed, to my bosses deciding to conclude a mini-game of entertainment industry Jeopardy! between myself and two other execs with game show experience1 by suddenly darkening the hotel multipurpose room’s lights and playing the YouTube video of my greatest moment of (gameshow-related) public infamy2 without having given me any prior notice of that plan: these were the experiences that formed the professional and social glue that united, empowered, and motivated our team when things got difficult or messy with a show or relationship.
For me, the second most memorable bit of “official” retreat programming was a moderated panel discussion with four big macher creators who were in overall deals with the studio. Paraphrasing very loosely from memory, here’s the part of the discussion that stuck with me, when the panel was asked to describe their likes or dislikes when receiving creative notes from studio and network executives:
Ron Moore (Battlestar Galactica, Outlander, For All Mankind): “I hate it when executives come to me with some problem they have with a script, without any point of view about what to do about it. Like, don’t just tell me that you have an issue with something, give me some sense of what you actually want, or work with me on figuring out how to ‘fix’ it.”
David Shore (House, Sneaky Pete, The Good Doctor): “That’s funny, because I hate that.3 I’m the writer; let me write. Tell me what you don’t like, but leave it to me to figure out what we should and shouldn’t do about it and how.”
Giving creative notes has never been part of my own job description. But hearing this exchange between Moore and Shore — the diametrically opposed nature of their views, the conviction with which they each described their preferences, and the total respect they had for one another’s perspectives — changed the way I think about how I do my job.
There are certain things you pick up in the course of your career that change the way you think about how you do your job, but that, for the most part, no one ever teaches you explicitly. These insights are usually hard-won with experience — which is a bit of a shame, because they’re often the kind of insights that could have made you a bit better at your job (or made your career a bit easier) more quickly had you figured them out sooner.
Today’s post is the first installment in a new series called The Things No One Teaches You, in which I’ll try to crystallize and share lessons from my own career that are easy to overlook as “too meta” — or even “too obvious” — to be taught explicitly, but which have helped me succeed in my career (and can help you do the same). And the first of those is the thing I realized from listening to Ron Moore and David Shore debate studio notes.
Why Guess When You Could Just Ask?
I’m not a creative executive (actual or aspiring) and I don’t presume to know everyone else’s jobs the way they do. But from what I can tell, note-giving — like the practice of effective creative collaboration generally — is a learnable, improvable craft. In practice, that seems to entail watching many people do it, in many different settings, across many different relationships, and trying to suss out from those many observations (and from personal trial and error) how to do it in a way that feels both authentic and effective. An up-and-coming exec may be lucky enough to have a boss who talks to them about all of this in a “meta” way that they can learn from directly. But for the most part, my sense is that most creative executives essentially pick this up as they go through their careers, and eventually develop a style that works for them.
Yet as much as note-giving (and creative collaboration generally) is a learnable, improvable craft, it also needs to be adapted to the personal styles and expectations of different creative partners. As Moore and Shore’s comments reveal, those styles and expectations can vary wildly from relationship to relationship. And these two creators, accomplished and experienced as they were, were probably uniquely capable of proactively identifying and articulating their needs and preferences with such clarity.
Which is why, when the panel with Moore and Shore ended, I found myself wondering: do the creative execs ever just ask writers, at the beginning of their relationship, whether they’re a Moore-type, a Shore-type, or somewhere in between, and go from there?
That question — what kind of notes do you like or dislike from executives? — piqued my curiosity because I immediately recognized it as just one expression of a broader, more fundamental question that I knew could be tremendously helpful in my own work. And in the years since, I’ve realized that this question is even more powerful and universally helpful than I first gave it credit for — something that virtually anyone can ask, in virtually any professional relationship, to make themselves more effective in their own work, whatever that might be:
“How Can I Best Help You?”
It’s a big question which, depending on the professional context, can be used for different purposes, mean different things, or be expressed in different ways.
The nature of one’s professional interest or responsibility in “helping” another person — and of what it means to do so “best” — naturally depends on the nature of the work to be done. Is your work internal-facing (such as addressing operational issues) or external-facing (such as negotiating deals with third parties)? Are you answering your counterpart’s questions, giving them feedback on their own work, or generating your own more “formal” work product at their direction?
Equally important, however, is the nature of the relationship involved. Is this an “internal” relationship or an “external” one? Are you dealing with a boss, a colleague, or a subordinate? A client, a customer, or a counterparty?
Understanding the specific dynamics, expectations, and norms for each of these relationships — both in the abstract and with each specific individual — is crucial to figuring out not just the most relevant and helpful kind of information for each working relationship, but also the most effective and/or appropriate ways to seek it. Does it feel “safe” to just ask, or are there norms of etiquette or professionalism that call for a more circumspect approach? Who (if anyone) is understood to hold more “power” or “authority” in the relationship? Would your counterpart understand intuitively why you’re asking these questions (and feel naturally inclined to answer them), or do you need to first establish a stronger foundation of understanding and/or trust?
To get started, I find it is helpful to first split that one big question — how can I best help you? — into two basic sub-questions. Each of these, in turn, can and should be adapted or reinterpreted based on the specifics of any particular professional relationship or task. Specifically:
“How Do You Like to Be Helped?”
That is, what professional style would best ensure that you — my client, my boss, my colleague, my partner, whatever — get the most out of our work together? Other ways this question might be asked across a variety of professional disciplines include:
Do you like partners or supervisors to be prescriptive with their feedback, or to alert you to issues but give you space to create solutions?
Do you want junior employees to be proactive about offering ideas and solutions, diligent about learning and collecting information before trying to contribute, or to wait patiently to be asked for their opinions?
Do you like to be given multiple options at once, or one “best recommendation” (with backup options held in reserve)?
Do you prefer to receive longer emails with spelled-out reasoning on important or difficult issues, brief emails with conclusions and recommendations that can be followed up on as the client sees fit, or somewhere in between?
What kinds of issues do you like to address via email vs. by phone or zoom? Do you have a general preference between phone calls and videoconferences?
What kinds of ideas, messages, and/or materials do you want me to run by you before sending them to outside parties?
Fundamentally, these are all questions of process and personal preference. But you also have to engage on substance, which means asking a similar but distinct version of that same question:
“What Do You Care About?”
That is, what outcomes, relationships, messages, or impressions are you most interested in and concerned about? Again, how to meaningfully express this question will vary depending on the professional relationship and context, but to highlight some versions that are especially (but not exclusively) relevant to dealmakers:
Who do we need to convince here?
Who do we need to keep happy here?
How much do you care about this — is it a must-have, a really-like-to-have, or a could-live-without?
What issues are most and least important to you?4
Is your goal to make a “good, fair” deal or “the best possible” deal?
Would you rather maximize upside in success, or minimize downside/maximize guarantees in average (or worse) outcomes?
How important is it to you to make a fast deal (and how willing are you to compromise on making a great deal to make that happen)?
I often frame this discussion with an explicit analogy to a common adage about real estate construction and renovation: it’s basically impossible to find someone to do your job (1) well, (2) quickly, and (3) cheaply. At best, you’ll have to pick two out of those three qualities. You may well have to settle for one. In other words: knowing that you can’t truly “have it all,” what qualities or outcomes do you want to prioritize and optimize for?
Asking People to “Help You Help Them” in the Real World
As you think about how you might use the above in your own work (or perhaps about how you’re already doing so), there are a few practical considerations to keep in mind.
First, I want to reiterate that the specific questions above are just examples of how these more conceptual inquiries might be interpreted or expressed in real life — and, given my background and perspective, the list is biased toward what is most relevant for professionals in my general line of work — but virtually all of them have some variation or counterpart that could apply in many other professional contexts. Moreover, simply taking time to consider how they might apply to yours helps you develop a kind of “meta-awareness” about your own craft, which is invaluable to truly understanding how to do your job (whatever that is), and to thinking deeply about how you could do it better (whatever that means).
Second, while this may all seem very intuitive when spelled out so plainly — and I expect that you probably ask at least some of these questions (or ones like them) in your day-to-work without thinking about it — there is great value in framing and engaging directly with such potentially “obvious,” yet usually implicit, questions and concepts. Do you actually ask these questions, or mostly just make assumptions about the likely answers? Are there some helpful questions here that you hadn’t thought of, or that inspire other ideas about how to make yourself more effective? And while there are probably some questions here that you would never want to ask certain people directly, can you talk around the subjects enough to suss out what you need to know to do your work more effectively?
Third, it would be easy to misinterpret the act of seeking explicit guidance on the substance or process of your work as somehow rendering you a drone or mere messenger, rather than an empowered strategist/tactician with unique and valuable expertise. As often as not, your counterpart will need your help answering the very framing questions you’re asking them. Representatives and executives with expertise, confidence, and tact can substantially drive decision-making while fully engaging and empowering their clients, colleagues, and partners with ultimate decision-making authority.
Finally, in the course of a long career and across a wide array of relationships, almost every professional will sometimes be called upon to help and serve others, and sometimes be the person that others are called upon to help and serve. Learning to be more thoughtful and tactical about what information others could provide you to help you help them better will also make you more aware of what information others would benefit from when they’re trying to help you (and more proactive about offering it even to those who don’t think to ask). That means that this way of thinking isn’t just a low-effort and high-impact technique that makes you better at helping others; it also makes your own life easier by making other people better at helping you.
In Conclusion: Thing #1 That No One Teaches You
You don’t have to guess the best way to “do a good job” for the people whose interests you have to somehow serve in your work. You can just ask them.
Want to further develop the meta-awareness about your professional craft that you need to get the most out of your team (or yourself) at work? Keep your eyes peeled for future installments of my “Things No One Teaches You” series! Or, better yet, check out the Prime tab of this site to learn more about how I can help you, your team, or your organization thrive with a personalized professional training or coaching program that is tailored to your specific needs and goals.
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One of whom was a delightful old-school, pre-Internet-era research exec of the sort you frankly don’t see anymore — the kind of guy who you could ask “What show led the ratings for the 1987–88 broadcast season?” and he’d answer you, correctly, with barely a moment’s hesitation, “It was The Cosby Show, with a 27.8 average household rating, leading an all-NBC top 4 that also included, in order, A Different World, Cheers, and The Golden Girls.” Likely as not, he’d also have mentioned that the two highest-rated non-NBC shows that year were ABC’s Growing Pains and Who’s the Boss?, or that it was The Cosby Show’s third #1 finish in a five-year run that ended after the 1989–90 broadcast season (for which The Cosby Show finished in a tie with ABC’s Roseanne), or possibly both. He obviously won the Jeopardy! game.
Because the Internet is an exceptionally weird place, over 12 years after my episode of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire first aired in August 2009, I was given a frankly unsettling glimpse of an alternate universe in which I correctly answered the million dollar question. (Why would someone create such a thing, you may ask? Apparently, so that a friend of mine could use it to introduce me when I make my annual guest appearance at a USC course he teaches.) But I’m still nostalgic for print media, so in my mind, that’s nothing compared to the New York Post running this honestly pretty sick burn on the front page of their TV Tuesday section the day after my episode aired:
Actually, in my memory: “I fucking hate that.”
A precursor to one of my favorite axioms of negotiation: “Pay people in the currency that is most valuable to them and least valuable to you.” (See Chapter 13, Section C.iv of my book.)