When stories become tools

Stories shape the world, but I'm sure you already know that. They move armies, build empires, and topple regimes. In business, stories inspire teams, captivate customers, and define brands.

But stories are not always innocent. They can deceive, manipulate, and control. They can blur the line between truth and fiction, between inspiration and coercion.

Stories are tools—tools that can build or destroy. And in the hands of the skilled, they become weapons of persuasion.

Consider this: Every great leader, every iconic brand, every revolutionary movement has a story.

Steve Jobs did not sell computers; he sold a vision of the future. Martin Luther King Jr. did not just deliver a speech; he painted a dream.

These stories moved people, not because they were true in the literal sense, but because they resonated with something deeper—hope, fear, desire.

Stories tap into the human psyche. They bypass logic and speak directly to emotion. This is their power. And this is their peril.

The power: Stories that move mountains

In January 2007, Steve Jobs stood on a stage and introduced the iPhone. He did not talk about processors or pixels. He told a story.

He spoke of a device that would change the way we live, work, and connect. He called it a "revolutionary product." And the world believed him.

The iPhone became more than a phone; it became a symbol of innovation, a status symbol, a cultural icon - a pop culture boasting tool in places like Nigeria. This is the power of storytelling.

In business, stories create meaning. They turn mundane products into must-haves, ordinary companies into household names. Think of Nike’s "Just Do It" campaign. It was not about shoes; it was about perseverance, ambition, the triumph of the human spirit. Nike told a story that resonated with athletes, dreamers, and strivers. And in doing so, they built a global empire.

Stories also unite teams. A leader who can articulate a compelling vision inspires loyalty and dedication.

Elon Musk does not just run companies; he sells dreams. He speaks of colonising Mars, of sustainable energy, of a future that feels like science fiction. His employees do not just work for him; they 'believe in him'. They are part of his story. And that belief drives them to achieve the impossible.

The peril: Stories that deceive

But stories have a dark side. They can distort reality, hide truths, and manipulate perceptions. Consider the case of Enron.

Once a popular cute baby of Wall Street, Enron told a story of innovation, growth, and success. They painted a picture of a company that could do no wrong. But behind the scenes, the story was a lie.

Enron’s leaders used narratives to do fraud, to deceive investors, to maintain the illusion of success. When the truth came out, the company collapsed, and thousands lost their jobs and savings.

Enron is an extreme example, but the use of stories to manipulate is not uncommon. In marketing, companies often spin narratives to sell products.

They create a sense of urgency, a fear of missing out, a desire for status. They tell us we need the latest gadget, the trendiest clothes, the most luxurious car. And we buy into these stories, often without question.

In the workplace, leaders can use stories to control narratives. They frame challenges as opportunities, failures as learning experiences, layoffs as necessary sacrifices.

These stories may inspire resilience, but they can also obscure the truth. They can make us accept the unacceptable, justify the unjustifiable. They can turn propaganda into persuasion.

The psychology: Why stories work

Why do stories have such power? The answer lies in the human brain. We are wired for narrative - one of the reasons I ask companies to shift from content writing to storytelling.

From the earliest days of humanity, stories have been our way of making sense of the world. They help us understand complex ideas, remember important information, and connect with others. But this same wiring makes us vulnerable to manipulation.

Cognitive biases play a role. Confirmation bias leads us to believe stories that align with our existing beliefs. The halo effect makes us trust stories from people or brands we admire. Repetition reinforces narratives, making them feel true even when they are not. And emotions—fear, hope, desire—cloud our judgment, making us more susceptible to persuasion.

Stories also create a sense of identity. They tell us who we are, what we value, where we belong. This is why brands like Apple and Nike are so successful. They do not just sell products; they sell identities. They tell us that by buying their products, we become part of a tribe, a movement, a story. And once we buy into that story, we are loyal. We defend the brand, promote it, even identify with it.

The ethical tightrope

The line between persuasion and manipulation is thin. On one side, stories inspire, educate, and empower. On the other, they deceive, control, and exploit. The difference lies in intent and transparency. Ethical storytelling respects the audience. It seeks to inform, not mislead. It values truth over convenience.

But in the cutthroat world of business, the temptation to cross this line is strong. Leaders may spin narratives to protect their reputation, to boost sales, to gain power. Marketers may exaggerate benefits, downplay risks, or create false urgency.

Employees, customers, and investors may fall for these stories, not because they are gullible, but because they are human.

The responsibility lies with the storyteller.

Leaders must ask themselves: Am I telling this story to inspire or to manipulate? Am I being transparent, or am I hiding the truth? Am I respecting my audience, or am I exploiting them? These questions are not easy, but they are necessary. Because stories have consequences.

The takeaway

Stories are tools. They can build bridges or burn them. They can inspire trust or breed suspicion. They can create legacies or destroy them.

As professionals, we must wield these tools with care. We must craft stories that inform, not mislead. We must use narratives to unite, not divide. And we must remain vigilant, both as storytellers and as listeners.

Because in the end, the stories we tell—and the stories we believe—shape not just our careers, but our world. They define who we are, what we stand for, and where we are headed. And that is a power too great to misuse.

Last words (Not in the Nigerian spiritual sense):

What stories have shaped your career? Have you seen narratives used for good—or for manipulation? Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s start a conversation about the power—and peril—of storytelling in business.

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