Insights | March 23rd 2025

Your gut is a miracle. It is a kind of engine or, perhaps more relatable, a central control system (just ask a gastroenterologist). The gut is altogether something different, helping us feel our way through important decisions about life, work, and beyond.

It’s never had such transformative PR before. There has been, in recent months and beyond, a groundswell of consumer interest in healing, and caring for, the gut. And given its laundry list of responsibilities, one of the most overlooked is how it once symbolised a decision-making process. That is, simply put, when we ask our gut, we’re drudging up past experiences and using a nebulous thing called ‘intuition’.

John Steinbeck likened the soul to a “glittering instrument”. Is the gut – not as a bodily thing, but as an instrument of measurement – still worth listening to when life, or a career, boils down to tough decisions with few easy answers?

Let’s talk about that.

Marketing the gut.

Is trusting your gut anything more than a figure of speech?

Purists will rejoice at the thought that, after accumulating years of experience in our lives and careers, there’s another way to navigate problem-solving beyond the clinical study of data points. The truth is, where I spend hours every day immersed in campaigns and customer data and analytics, some of the best decisions I have ever made were impossible to calculate upfront and entirely unconventional in there method. Data is a useful loadstar when it’s trustworthy and accurate, but that can be a luxury, especially as data is likely to become more expensive and fussier to manage (just think compliance and privacy benchmarks) over time.

Intuition, as it turns out, is a powerful lens into problem-solving. When you have a windowpane full of data, and the lived experience to battle-out problems, the best possible answers often lie somewhere in thick of it all. In marketing, as with most digital projects, is the gut a keen compass into the art of problem-solving, or is an old-hat trick?

Leadership takes guts.

Over the last few decades, the anatomy of phenomenal leadership has been the subject of heated study.

Leadership is an object of fascination, a common aspiration, a storyline with comedy and drama, and, perhaps, a destination. Many articles have tackled it, distilling a list of characteristics role-modelled in popular leadership icons. More conveniently, there’s often a comfortably achievable number of steps required to become a mirror-image of a leader. 6 Steps to Successful Leadership is, for example, more relatable, grounded, obtainable, and consumable than an ambiguous guide to every idiosyncratic tick that would transform a muddling mid-tier executive at, say, a consulting house into the next Elon Musk. The consensus is that leadership maybe no less trainable than any other muscle and yet it is still an elusive skillset.

As analysis on leadership whittles down the best traits to have, it turns out those who listen to their gut instinct are more often (and more likely) to outperform and innovate. Where it counts, according to the Harvard Business Review, is in-between the moments where a large decision can’t seemingly be solved through hard data analysis alone. Data can overwhelm or even delay the decision-making process, where gut is a powerful driver that helps leadership carve a clear path through a problem.

In a post-pandemic, digitally transformed, culturally conscious moment, agility is a loaded term for executives that want to move fast, remain nimble, economised, but ultimately, pack a punch. Think of early adopters to AI. Whilst not every decision needs a quick response, many common scenarios are time sensitive. In the same HBR article, the gut is called out for its resilience to highly unconventional or uncertain moments where the stakes are unusually elevated, such as life-saving surgery or early investments for start-ups.

Interestingly, not everyone uses their sense of intuition the same. Luara Huang, on When It’s OK to Trust Your Gut on a Big Decision, notices the most effective ways to utilise the gut.

1. It starts, she observes, with how a new frame of reference for understanding what a gut reading is: it’s not independent from the information you have already collected but draws from it.
2. Your gut isn’t ‘quick, impulsive, and emotional’.
3. The gut is trainable.

Leadership is a gutsy role and intuition, when nuanced and learned, can lead you toward bolder decisions.

Is data changing our leaders?

The data boom has, according to numerous analysts, created an opportunity for managers to rethink decisions with more accuracy. Where data is available, it will be prioritized over experience, human perception, or the gut engine. This creates a question without an immediate answer: how much has data transformed the managerial duty of decision-making? Even if by way of anecdotal experience, I would say data, for better or worse, it has reinvented an entire stratum of management.

Professionally, decision-making is a soft skill, a line-item on a job profile, a conversation piece in an interview. Data is everywhere – largely. What marketers will get ahead of, say, HR, is how data has an expiry date, it’s often high-maintenance, and requires constant enrichment. You can run data captures on a website to ensnare net new enquiries, but the freshness of that data is a clock rapidly running down. You might call it ‘data recency’ and this brings us to the proverbial elephant in the room. You have to trust the data – it’s attribution, the age of it, whether it’s been edited. Leveraging data in our everyday work life is a skill not to be taken for granted.

Putting data into action is as much a skill as learning how it to use it to navigate decisions.

Celebrate quicker decisions.

Malcolm Gladwell’s bestseller and high-profile writing in Blink provides an attractive case for unconscious thought. A snap judgement can be more powerful than hours of quiet contemplation. Taking a podium, and discussing Blink, Gladwell makes the argument that we should “take snap judgements more seriously”, that valuable detail can be yoked out of a momentary, if cursory, interaction with something. What’s more exciting is how that self-same detail can be more insightful than hours of rationale thinking. Data isn’t the only way through a problem, but beware, snap decisions can be helpful and yet also a hinderance.

Anecdotally, and after some years, recanting tall tales about getting it wrong and right based on quick, fleeting judgements is all too familiar with many of us. Regretful choices are lodged somewhere inside just as successful ones are celebrated and retold, aloud and often.

My years in academia taught me that paradoxical answers are, for end readers, frustrating to say the least. This isn’t the case here: snap judgements, intuition, the small moments – these are all valuable in the right context. It is wise to conclude that gut instinct – a hunch, a sense, deep intuition, a feeling – is both insightful (when it’s trained to be) and capable of rash judgement and misdirection. It’s a sensible middle ground, but an anticlimactic place to end this debate. Start with the problem you’re trying to solve – is there a data point that explains away the issue? What are the consequences, the gamble, of getting it wrong? Is the problem even a problem?

It can seem that creative work is the ideal test bed for flexing your gut as a decision-making muscle. In the last decade, I’ve learnt that marketing is a natural fit for applying intuition because decisions – thousands of decisions – every day, month, and throughout a full year of activity hang on a tightrope between creative judgement and data. A paid Ads search campaign will be optimised only when there’s enough to learn from early data, so the first day(s) become critical, teachable moments. But a paid search campaign, just like with executing an SEO strategy, still requires a creative hunch to engage and captivate the interest of end users.

Is it possible that gut instinct, if nothing else, can help us accelerate decision-making? In an ode to the gut as a decision-engine, it’s valuable to think about quick-fire intuition as an apparatus for smarter thinking. But if you’re accountable to explaining how you arrived at a decision, using a ‘hunch’ won’t cut the mustard to a senior or line manager. That’s why I previously observed how leadership takes guts – it’s not just for the obvious pun, but because our leaders are often in the best position to use this kind of muscle.

The gut as a second brain.

Gut instinct, in some analysis, is a remnant of a more primal way of thinking. It captures the “brain-gut connection”, where a hunch can be explained away biologically. Information travels back and forth through the nervous system, and much of that data is synthesized in the gut. So, your gut is making sense of data at a rapid rate, all the time. In many universal moments throughout a life, the gut even tingles, tightens, squeezes, and eases as a way of digesting, quite literally, our emotions.

It’s nothing new to suggest that gut instinct, like any other sense, can be finely tuned. The first step requires awareness that intuition is rather useful in many situations. It is conventional wisdom that your gut feeling, in any given moment, should be listened to and carefully considered. The shape and size (and possible fallout) of any problem should determine if instinct will be useful.

In recent years, I have started to take gut readings of a problem more seriously. What I want to understand, however, isn’t the probabilities of your gutting getting it right. Instead, the most interesting question is to ask how clever our intuition is.

A note on overthinking.

Overthinking is a type of paralysis. As a writer, and after decades of producing branded content, overthought lines, words and even use of punctuation can bring the most productive creative processes to a sudden stop. The same applies in marketing; whether you’re in a boardroom arguing commercials, or what your website should say above the fold (and below it), overthinking is often the enemy of productivity.

If gut instinct is a quick, punctual judgement, overthinking is the slow, confused knotting of ideas. Where intuition is as fast as a cool glance at the problem, overthinking is a sleepless night not solving it. Maybe intuition is what we all need to dial back into the moment.

It’s not just me waxing lyrical about gut instinct either. Colloquially, scientists will refer to the stomach as a “second brain”, which is a nod to the neurological marvel of the gut. HBR points out the “100 million neurons lining your entire digestive tract” as the critical evidence that the gut has – not just hypothetically – speedy processing capability. When a problem arises, your brain is working hard in concert with your gut to drudge up experiential ‘data’ as a form of understanding. Intuition is like muscle memory. You might not know where it comes from initially, but there’s a sense of an answer that floats to the centre of your mind.

A quick search later – and as Google crunches my enquiry into a bitesize flow of articles – it’s not lost on me that gut instinct as subject of curiosity has been thrown at neuroscientists, journalists, keyboard philosophers, life coaches, business executives and beyond. To different people, the gut feeling is a spiritual or unexplained event. But for modern analysts, intuition is the product of a deeper, unconscious layer of knowledge and experience.

So, if gut intuition is as real as rumbling indigestion, is there more to it?

My interest in this article was never about using the gut to solve problems, but rather whether intuition is relevant anymore. For example, do hiring committees want to hear about the time you navigated a challenge by using your gut as a decision engine? Or does it sound more professional, even plausible, to say you are simply “analytical”. The truth is many of our problems are solved everyday using a powerful mixture of gut instinct, experience, data and steely resolve.

Why it’s important to (occasionally) rely on instinct in our digital culture.

A few years ago, I was in conversation with a sales leader who generated a lot of success (and revenue) from navigating everyday problems – some larger, some smaller – with mostly their gut instinct. On reflection, they mentioned how being analytically minded could be a far more suitable skillset for the next generation of seller. The thing that stuck, all these years later, is how intuition has become so much more than a tool for decision-making: when trained, it can make leaders, managers, even creatives more distinctive in their field. I have mentioned at length how intuition is an attribute of the celebrity-like leadership we see to this day.

In our digital moment, it’s easy to develop an unnerving sense of paranoia that tools like artificial intelligence are replacing things we once thought were as fixed as office furniture (but look what happened to the office…). Working in the tech space and making an honest disclosure about AI, it’s safe to say these tools need to be trained and layered smartly overtop existing procedures to see the beneficial productivity gains that businesses want.

When it comes to intuition, however, it’s hard to predict how, or even if, AI could replace human involvement in the decision-making process. In one such application, Swedish private equity firm, EQT Partners, has trained AI to scan proposals; in another, Uber uses AI to assess dynamic pricing. The favoured approach is more middle-grounded in a collaborative use of AI to aid and support human decisions by cropping out, for example, potential errors like bias.

Yet, with deep training, will AI ever be as reactive, experienced, and balanced as a journeyed executive? It is certainly possible.

Artificial intelligence has speed but it lacks trust and, to an extent, credibility. For now, human intervention remains the difference between cold calculations that might neglect things like employee engagement versus decisions that are empathetic and more tuned into the people, places and things that get impacted.

Meet the (harshest) critics of your gut.

At worst, using one’s gut instinct, within a clinically data-driven setting, is tantamount to a kind of empty platitude. LinkedIn already has those in abundance. But when is it fair to dial out gut instinct and what, exactly, do those situations look like?

I have written (unapologetically at-length) about the role of data in decision-making, and how the gut can operate on a near-complementary level of insightfulness. There’s a symbiotic nature here when you pull in close to the microscope: data is much harder to rebuke, but the gut is much faster, and slightly more unconventional in how it helps you reach a decision.

Let’s start there – at the exact moment you start to approach a decision.

The path can be fraught, tough, riddled with, well, riddles, and, most certainly, a decision is never reached in a straight line. A decision is, to me at least, a show of confidence in an answer to a problem.

A decision is equal parts triumph over, and mastery of, a problem at hand.

On Gut Instinct

That’s even if, in a few months’ time, your decision yields few bragging rights and feels more like a headache. It’s harder work than a chance coin toss, somewhere in-between being clever and risking the fool of yourself.

Good judgement can be the reward of those braving out the possibility of making mistakes. Data, on the other hand, is something to be interpreted. The gut draws up previous experience. Somewhere between those things, you likely find your answer.

But intuition can lead to mistakes. Global markets, with complex regulations, have made it harder to wade through larger business decisions with intuition alone. The available time we have to make big decisions has only shrunk, too. This is where data offers greater reliability and certainty in addressing those bigger business decisions.
After some time, your intuition starts to feel more like muscle-memory.

Perhaps, because it feels effortless to lead with your gut, that’s precisely why so many professionals now avoid using intuition. It’s nebulous, hard to pin down, and easily shrugged off when we’re not chimed in. Yet, I still believe that intuition belongs in a culture, time, and place where outcomes, results, and decisions are the sum of different expertise, tools, and types of analysis.

Is measurability a cult?

We don’t often talk about how saturated our professional lives have become with possible metrics.

Marketeers, for example, can weigh up countless different metrics for campaign effectiveness. If content creation is a cornerstone of your organic performance, you’re likely considering the most effective stats to understand end-user behaviour. This opens a flood gate. You can look at averages for time-on-page, for user sessions, or you could assess exit rate, bounces, or even the reverse, the end-user’s scroll depth.

Measurability asks us what can be measured. In marketing practice, this can feel evangelised to the point of erasing out experiential decisions that have the potential to make campaigns more impactful. This is where measurability needs to be refined to a point that it reveals something insightful about your campaign goals. A high exit rate, for example, will indicate a problem, but it won’t necessarily tell you how to improve the conversion rate.

Measurability is aspirational most of the time. It’s increasingly the case that data capture and synthesis isn’t as free as it once was. User privacy and advertising compliance is ensuring that data is more tightly controlled when it enters the hands of a business. In time, it’s not hard to imagine that reporting will need to be planned into campaign budgets.

Data is largely popular because it’s purposeful. Imagine an alarm clock beyond its functional utility to display (and sometimes alert us of) time. Alarm clocks have fixed meaning, clearly defined purposes.

But shift the mental exercise to something less functional – say, a morning coffee – and try to locate if it’s bound in the same language of purpose. For some, a coffee is a means to an end. It’s not about the coffee, but the caffeine, or the energy upgrade. But for many others, coffee is a culture which allows us to socialise (in the UK at least) over a whistling kettle; it might be such a popular beverage because the process – from sourcing beans to grinding them – is therapeutic. A single cup of coffee can explode in different directions with meaning and purposes.

But it’s also possible, as is often the case with my morning cup, that coffee is lovingly consumed not because it contains any purpose at all. Sitting still, rested momentarily, the perfume of a coffee, the day ahead awaits you. You might just find joy in drinking coffee.

Data has a clearly defined role, enabling professionals to drill down into problems more analytically and predict the most effective decisions. When it comes to measurability, you have to understand the purpose of data and how it can be used to reveal insights.

Good data doesn’t last.

A distracted mind, a busy headspace – with a trainable thing like instinct, can it help to use your gut to navigate problems in the digital world? Yes. But there’s a lot to unpack from the idea that, instinct can take on a different meaning in a digital, post-pandemic world. If we start by understanding how data depreciates in value – that is, it has a shelf life – then we can re-evaluate how the two work as one.

In any average day, our diaries become denser with calls, tasks, and deadlines. But I’ve come to respect how instinct is a shorthand means of clearing through itemised tasks quickly – and with reliably effective outcomes. The sometimes-limited availability of data means that there’s still a wide space for intuition to fill.

Your gut can act like a compass when data fails to inspire the best outcome, too.

When does that happen? Surprisingly often.

Say your CRM is full of customer data points with a strong indication of buying intent. Since COVID-19, employee attrition has been staggering, jumping year-on-year, and leaving gaps within organisations, as there’s a lot of movement on the talent market. This is important because it raises a question: with so much attrition (and employee movement), how long will customer data remain ‘warm’ in your CRM? The answer is a surprisingly short period of time. This means there’s more urgency on fast, reactive marketing. This thought exercise is supposed to, ultimately, illustrate how quickly data can become irrelevant, even unusable, in time. If data should inspire a decision, then you need to start by asking how relevant it was it the first place.

Now, thinking back to the gut, we can expediate decisions about marketing to avoid data irrelevancy or, what I call, ‘data mortality’. If we approach data with a shelf-life, then it becomes clear how time-sensitive it is to act on it.

Time, in the life of a marketer, is the proverbial black cat crossing the street. It’s bad luck to sit on data for too long.

The gut can empower decisions to be ‘outside of the box’, helping you to be more responsive with data.

When you simply don’t have the data.

In our digitised working culture, decisions without data can seem uncomfortable. It’s a consequence of submerging our end users in streams of fast content and advertorials. What’s happening is a kind of entertainment value is exchanged for their data time and again. From the point-of-view of an executive, business is probabilistic, where data can roll the dice favourably in the direction of your desired goals. It’s a lever we think we can pull to reduce risk.

Every so often, data appears to be a luxury, a commodity and a limited resource all at once. In the context of marketing, there’s a heavy consumption of third-party data sources to fill the gap in our data strategies.

The greatest upside of having limited data is the chance to creatively explore other ways to reach a decision. When you have a limited measure of a resource – like data – you quickly become thriftier with it.
Take inventory of data often, ask questions about it, interrogate how you captured it, what trends it reveals, how it helps hone into a decision. That’s a healthy relationship with data.

Where organisations lack data, managerial experience will outperform almost every time – this is where the gut, a decades-old decision engine, is still helping to navigate everyday decisions.

Data as culture.

Data has seeped into the cultural zeitgeist. It’s stitched in the daily lives of users, who are aware of it, treating their data like a personal possession, an accessory, something quite meta, to own, share, exchange, even steal, or expose. Social media is one frontier where data defines entire demographics. Advertising another. In fact, in marketing, the role of data is referential, a kind of spyglass, insofar as it gleams insights into the life and habits of an end user.

In SEM, or search engine marketing, data determines the next move. Data is less static in this sense. It’s often an event – data doesn’t just inform marketing activity, it creates it.

An SEO evangelicalist will prioritise their next move based on optimising what came before. If a cornerstone commercial page on your site isn’t gaining its share of market visibility behind key intent terms, then the next move is to audit the page’s optimisations, identify the gaps between it and the wider competition, and then expand the research off-page.

Data doesn’t just inform marketing, it creates it.

Time and again, one decision begets the next and data is the driving force. These scenarios challenge that age-old misconception that only half of marketing is effective, the rest is black magic. That’s a mentality the field has been battling for years. Where SEM can see short term results, it’s an ideal testbed for data testing. But, as we’ve seen, not every decision is reachable in such a linear, data-driven fashion.

In another sense data as culture might even be used to describe corporate mindsets, where hiring decisions, procurement, management and a host of other duties are ruled by data points consolidated into charts and dashboards.

The ‘boom’ in decisions backed by data – which has been more of a slow, fizzing pop a decade in the making – has tripled in certain industries, such as manufacturing. According to MIT’s insightful The Uneven Rise of Data Decision Making, four factors have led to this point in time:

• Data decisions are more likely to occur in firms, places of work, and by professionals where there has been significant IT investment. It’s unsurprising that data is the plaything of a technologist, but there’s still precautions to be made regarding compliance, advertising rules, and how it gets collected, stored, shared, and used.
• Those with a formal education, specifically a bachelors, are more likely to embrace data in their careers. Modern education has created a comfort around data – how to use it, what it can do, and so forth.
• Size matters: the larger, more spawling the firm, the more data that’s available.
• Awareness about data, training opportunities, and the freedom to adopt new data policies are all likely to create meaningful impact.

Data as culture takes on different meanings depending on the angle. From one view, data is cultural product with a value. From another, cultures are making us more data-literate.

Data doesn’t have a sense of humour (but marketing does).

Here’s the thing about data: it needs an analyst to come along and interpret it.

Take any recent election in the US, listen to how data is being weaponised, and you quickly see how it can create disillusion. Storytelling is a much more powerful device (at arresting our attention), and too often data is misquoted and decontextualized to offer comfort and reassurance around ideas.

If you consume the news media every morning, there are multiple decisions being made about the stories that get reported (and those that don’t). These decisions are invisible to the audience. I’m not interested in data ethics here, but how a marketer can have a sense of humour and still use data.

I don’t really mean that marketing is funny. Some of it is. A Superbowl commercial seems to necessitate humour. Data is waiting for a marketer to make sense of it, find the humour, the story, pull out the correlations and patterns, and use that meaningfully in their lives.

If data has a culture, then we need to participate in it, interpret it for ourselves, or reject it based firmly on questions about its accuracy, context, where it come from and whether it remains relevant anymore.

Digesting ‘bad’ decisions.

If we believe that business is probabilistic, what happens when the decision turns out unfavourably? It depends.

If you’ve built a culture around experimentation, then getting it wrong a few times doesn’t hurt as bad. They simply become teachable moments.

Have you ever entered a website and started a ‘conversation’ with a chatbot? A little, often intrusive widget prompts a discussion with you. Chatbots are designed to create engagement with you and the desired effect is a smooth, near humanlike interaction. It’s digging for information, getting more context about your intent. Behind the scenes, every statement it produces, every reply, and interaction, has been tested time and again.

Chatbots don’t exist to annoy us. But they are illustrative about how many outcomes are the sum of multiple decisions over time – some bad, others good.

Will gut instinct ever be replaced?

Even though it dresses up a headline nicely, and an impending AI takeover of basic intuition would send an uneasy shockwave through any given reader, your gut isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

I type that good-humouredly, fully self-aware that in this very moment every other column is filling up with the likes of productivity hacks designed to get results quicker, faster, in a less taxing fashion, and so forth.

Last year, this same question was asked in clinical settings. Can doctors operate independently form their gut instinct when AI is involved? The consensus was that, for a learned professional, decades of experience combined with textbook knowledge is more powerful than what any algorithm could recreate. That’s not to mention how AI models can ‘hallucinate’ or possess existing flaws and biases. There’s also the challenge with privacy laws and ethics.

I think when we allow ourselves space to listen gut instinct, it can brilliantly navigate many decisions, but we still define it wrongly. Daniel Kahneman, the behavioural economist behind Thinking, Fast and Slow described it clearly where ‘intuition is thinking that you know without knowing why you do.’ Most gut scepticism is concerned with the development of intuition over time, especially heuristics.

The gut won’t get replaced in decision-making. It will, however, gradually lose some of its mysticism over time as we develop more powerful definitions and understandings around it.

Gut health is changing our minds.

Gut health is having a renaissance.

Our cultural near-obsessions with gut health and the microbiome have even been productised and distilled into straplines for cereals and other foods. Thanks a lot, marketing.

As this discourse around gut health becomes more popularised in the public conscious, the role of our guts – for health and work – will only become more interesting. Intuition is an asset that we use often at work, not always self-consciously, but it’s yet to make its case into the wider fabric of our lives. When intuition is used, it’s often a last resort, a sense about something, rather than a keenly develop instinct.

Again, the existing definition of gut instinct is problematic. It’s rigid and unimaginative at times, assuming we all the think the same about intuition. In fact, the ‘solution space’ is wider than we think. We shouldn’t be too reductive, so that we can arrive more freely and openly at multiple, possible solutions in problem-solving. Think back to Rory Sutherland in Alchemy and the role of logic in narrowing our creative responses to problems at large.

In marketing, this view is more easily adopted because creativity is much the like gut feeling – there’s a degree of mysticism that makes the process feel less definable. Creativity is magic-adjacent.

What’s your gut telling you?

As time goes by, intuition is being praised for its speed and wit in the heat of arriving at a decision. If we accept that intuition is a guise for buried experiential knowledge, then it remains incredibly relevant in our work lives and beyond. Certainly, a developed sense of intuition and accurate, fresh data sets make for powerful decision engines.

But is gut instinct a measurable of something else?

Intuition defies the neat, ordered logic of any given metric in marketing. When judging campaign efficacy, and strategizing next steps, it’s not advisable to lead into a conversation with ‘we did X activity because my gut said so’. At times, intuition can feel a placeholder for an answer until you work backwards at the explanation. Perhaps that how we can understand our gut instincts for now: they stand in for metrics until we understand the problem better.

I’m sure sometime soon, you’ll look at a problem and think, what’s my gut saying now?

Afterword.

On this journey writing about the gut, I started to realise with renewed clarity that what actually changed was less how I define intuition but how I understand the problems I want to resolve.

Throughout this article, there are competing ideas presented about gut instinct (is it fast or slow? is it right or wrong? and so on…). With every chapter, I leaned into, if not fully embraced, the potential ambiguity of intuition. We cast it around like a spell after all. What I started to realise was that asking a reader to navigate challenges like a marketer might is a much larger leap toward creative thinking.

If you pin down decisions to being evidential, we start to miss out on the possibility of more creative solutions. Problems are better treated as a wide, open-ended surface. If you narrow your thinking, it can be helpful and precise, but you might risk missing out other possibilities along the way. Marketing is a great education in mind-expanding, unconventional ways to tackle problem-solving.

As an exercise, next time your business feels squeezed by a nagging problem, invite the marketer in the room.

DON’T STOP HERE.

Why stop reading here? Discover more writing below.

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• Is Gut Instinct A Metric Anymore?
• Waiting for the band to play
• On Walking
• Oak & Weeds