How Fiction Makes Me a Better Analyst

It is my hope that this blog goes beyond simple tips and tricks into helping people become more fluent in data and, by consequence, innovation.

One of my first and still favorite blog posts was on how music makes me a better analyst. From the training, to the concentration, to the commitment that music takes, I have found that many of the skills picked up from years of playing the violin and the classical guitar transfer seamlessly into the world of spreadsheets and analytics.

I consider myself an “efficient,” “no-nonsense” kind of person — it makes sense I would end up in this line of work, right? Even as a young adult, I was swayed more by learning something “practical” with non-fiction than entering into the “made-up” worlds of non-fiction. I didn’t see the use in relocating to a made-up reality where there were problems that I couldn’t fix.

I hate to admit that this bias lasted well past college. At least, of course, I am not in the 42% of college graduates who never read a book after leaving campus. But as I heard more and more people I respect swear by the importance of reading fiction on creativity, I finally gave it another chance.

I can already tell I am more creative and alert on the days I read fiction. And these capabilities have improved my prowess as an analyst. Here’s how:

Empathy.  In fiction you begin to see how other see and think their thoughts. You experience reality from someone else’s point of view, basking in their triumphs and lamenting in their struggles.

Sound familiar? Empathy is key to the design thinking methodology. Whether you are building a kitchen sink or a spreadsheet, you are a designer, and you need a deep and full understanding of the processes underlying the end user’s relationship with your product. Shallow depictions won’t make it.

Our friend of the the blog Oz du Soleil posted a LinkedIn update about an upcoming storytelling gig. Reading Oz’s take on storytelling I heard many similarities to the way I see him approach spreadsheet development. “The honesty in storytelling also requires giving people their full humanity,” Oz says. “Making cartoon villains that are easy to hate means you’ve got a rant and not a story.”

Especially as analysts, those of us with “the gift” of superior spreadsheet prowess might too easily dismiss a client or a boss has set up their data model. We want to think of ourselves as the all-knowing expert and they the foolish perpetrators of bad data, either careless or just plain evil.

As readers of fiction, steeped in the practice of empathy, we begin to look past shallow ad-hominems and into more holistic motives and perspectives. That makes the difference between a designer and a jerk.

You are in the driver’s seat.  Seth Godin recently remarked that “The decline of our personal momentum might be the great untold story of our time.”

Seth argues that “things that come with their own motors” are gaining in popularity, to the detriment of our own autonomy. For example, you are far more “in the driver’s seat” while reading a book than watching a movie. Not only this, but a good book takes more unexpected turns and delves into more detail than a 90-minute movie ever can. Of course today there are long-format television shows with intricate plots and characters. But here, you are still being propelled by the fiction, not vice versa.

Reading fiction you begin to see things more counterintuitively. Everything becomes a plot, even that spreadsheet model. Don’t just go for the mass-market movie ending! Build your own story arc; develop your own style. “Think Different,” right? The operative word there is think, and thinking is active. That’s why old-fashioned reading is still so powerful in our self-propelled digital age.

Thinking in ecosystems. We tend to isolate the data in our reports. Not only do we strip the data free of the context of what social processes underlie it, but we strip the report itself from the context of who is using it.

The best fiction creates another reality in which readers are able to immerse themselves. That is why much of the best fiction has vibrant “fan-fiction”communities — people don’t want to leave these stories! The authors have built such complete systems that they become eco-systems.

Imagine this: Is your data such that people could create fan-analytics out of it? That is, have you developed reports that have been so woven in the needs and the environment that people begin doing their analysis and taking their own actions with it? Good data, like good fiction, should build avenues of creation for their audience.

So, where to begin?  If you are just getting back into fiction, a good place to start is with the titles you remember from high school that you didn’t totally hate. Maybe it’s Fahrenheit 451 or The Grapes of Wrath. Of course, “not totally hating” something isn’t a rousing endorsement, but give them another try. They are classics for a reason, and you have more life experiences that will resonate.

Reading fiction offers so many more benefits than just the standard, “It will make you a better writer.” Indeed, I argue: “It will make you a better analyst,” and that’s the endgame for this blog.

Give it a shot and leave a comment on what it does for you.