I've just returned from visiting some friends of mine in Maui. They told me an amazing story.
In March 2002, an oil tanker caught fire eight hundred miles off the Hawaiian coast. The blaze moved so quickly that the captain didn't have time to radio for help. Fortunately an American cruise ship was nearby, and the entire crew was rescued. But as the cruise ship began sailing away, someone heard barking coming from the tanker. The tanker's captain realized that his dog, a small brown and white terrier named Hokget, had been left on board.
When the cruise reached port, passengers immediately contacted the Humane Society about Hokget's plight. Soon the news media was winging the story all around the world, and checks to save the little terrier began pouring in. (One check was for $5,000.) Public pressure was so great that the U.S. Navy and Coast Guard sent ships and planes to find the dog. I'm happy to say they were successful: Hokget was found, plucked from the smoldering tanker, and returned safely to Hawaii.
It has been estimated that millions of dollars were spent in recovering that one little terrier. Why? Why did this dog capture the imagination -- and resources -- of all these people? After all, we live in a world where millions of children (and countless dogs and cats) go hungry every day. What did Hokget have that they do not? A story. It was the story that made it all happen.
This little terrier had a name; her plight was told as a story, rather than a statistic. People responded because they felt something immediate, something visceral. They were moved to take action. Statistics and abstractions don't make people act, but stories do.
According to Nielsen Wire "For the first time ever, social network or blog sites are visited by three quarters of global consumers who go online." And what do these millions upon millions of people do on these sites? They create new narratives. Most of the stories are poorly crafted, relevant to a very few people, and have no sustainability. The stories that develop traction in our media -- the ones that go viral -- are mostly piffle like "Balloon Boy," or some teen celeb's troubles in rehab. A congressperson's voting record bores us, but their sex scandal ... now that's a story.
Human brains are coded for story. Telling a human a story is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Even when the bull is exhausted he can't help himself; he's compelled to look and react.
Once inside our brain, stories work in mysterious ways. They can creep into the locked vault of the mind and influence us--almost against our conscious will. Many voters find negative political ads offensive and wish they would stop. Yet political psychologist Drew Westen writes in his book The Political Brain, "In the 2004 election ... The increase in voter turnout largely reflected a concerted--and highly targeted--negative campaign by Republicans aimed less at changing the minds of undecided voters than on bringing conservatives who normally don't vote to the ballot box by making them angry."
Facts alone are too distant and cold; when facts and emotion combine to produce a story, people will act. Emotions move an audience to take action. Stories are the most powerful vehicle for conveying emotions. For good or bad, if you want to change the world (or yourself) it all starts with a story.
Are you producing indifference by using facts alone? What stories are you telling about your business? Are they abstract and distant, or do they engage people and get them excited about your new ideas, products and services?
The next time you want to move someone to action, differentiate yourself from your competition, or even make change in your own life, remember the lesson of Hokget. Nobody--not even the U.S. Navy--can stand up to a wagging tale!