The Ewing Theory in Film and Tech; Do We Suffer From Toxic "Cultures of Genius"?

Earlier this week, as I listened to a podcast on the difference between cultures of genius and cultures of growth, it struck me how endemic the culture of genius has become within the film and technology industries.

"Cultures of genius" sounds great, because genius is a good thing, right? However they are individualistic cultures, built around star performers and the idea that those star performers have innate abilities that make them stand out. You either have it or you don't. If you have it then you need to carry the rest of the team. If you don't have it then you need to be carried, and risk being dropped.

A lot of people have been dropped lately, and I see such a wealth of talent, passion, and experience currently sitting on the sidelines.

Compare that to cultures of growth, where ability is not fixed, and everyone is seen as having untapped potential to be brought forward. Leadership is not about being the best, or the smartest in the room, it's about being effective in harnessing and growing the full capabilities of everyone on the team.

Cultures of growth also see occasional failure as confirmation of effort, pushing boundaries and learning. When growth is the ultimate goal, occasional setbacks are an inherent part of that process and accepted as necessary for individuals and teams to grow their capability, effectiveness, and productivity and continue to be better in the future. Cultures of genius see mistakes as confirmation of ineptitude, and create an atmosphere of avoidance and blame, which ultimately results in stagnation because who can justify taking risks when the cost of failure is so high.

This made me take a sideways jump and think of the Ewing Theory in sports. The Ewing Theory was first proposed in the mid-nineties by a friend of ESPN pundit Bill Simmons, and it goes like this. Sports teams that feature a star player often show better results when that player is injured and off the field.

It seems so counterintuitive that a team would perform at its best when deprived of its linchpin. It suggests that there is much more to building high performing teams than hiring or promoting a single star player to call the shots, with everyone else in support roles around them. And yet isn't that the model we so often follow?

We love to celebrate a visionary, an auteur. I'm talking of movie directors, actors, tech entrepreneurs, VFX supervisors. We put them on a pedestal, hype them up, expecting them to live up to unrealistic infallibility. We create megalomaniacs when their ego inflates to match the hype, or we fuel imposter syndrome and anxiety when the gap between their internal self-perception and external expectations feels too big to bridge. Then we add the ever present threat of shame and disgrace if they ever fall short and prove themselves to be human after all.

We operate within a societal culture that now perceives not rising to star player status as a failure in itself. In 1965 the average CEO was compensated 20 times higher than their average worker. By 2021 the average CEO received compensation equal to 399 times the average worker.? Most new VFX graduates dream of seeing their name above the title, of standing on stage accepting their Oscar. Only with that global recognition can they know that they have "made it". Yet the happiest, most fulfilled and productive people I know work in collaborative teams, where the collective success of the team is the highest priority. These teams rarely happen naturally, especially with the pervasive societal and industry pressures. They take conscious effort to build and shape.

It feels good to be valued. It feels good to know our individual contribution is seen and appreciated. Yet the best leaders know there is almost nothing they can point to and say "I alone did that". This lack of tangible validation of our impact as a leader can be brutal, but is an essential burden of being a leader. We are on a pedestal. We are in a position of authority and power, yet we are essentially powerless because we rely on our team to do the work just as much as they rely on us for direction. Navigating that contradiction is the hardest task in developing and maintaining leadership effectiveness. If it ever gets easy that may be a sign that we have gotten complacent.

Teams need leadership. We need vision to be clearly thought out and articulated. We need expectations, values, and boundaries to be defined and enforced. We need disagreements and conflict to be surfaced and openly discussed without being personal. We need critical feedback, support, encouragement, and belief in our?potential. We need regular course corrections as teams grow, markets shift, and as projects progress. We need a steady hand on the tiller in stormy seas. We need to trust and be trusted, not in spite of our differences but because of them. Most of all we need the captain to be equally fallible and equally open to learning and growth as any other member of the crew. We all need to be wrong sometimes. We all need to be outshone by our team mates often. This is leadership. This is growth. It sucks, but it is so worth it.