Author: Suresh Dinakaran

Your brand’s net worth just became your net worthless.

While you’re busy chasing the latest marketing trends like a dog with ADHD, your customers are ghosting you faster than a bad Tinder date. Why? Because trust—the one currency that actually matters—is hemorrhaging from your brand like a punctured crypto wallet.

While you’re out here flexing your marketing budget like a peacock on Red Bull, your customers are RUNNING. Why? Your trust account is more overdrawn than a college kid’s bank balance.

THE BRUTAL QUESTION: If your brand walked into a bank today, would they approve the loan? If you’re sweating right now, your customers already voted with their wallets.

Trust takes years to build. Minutes to destroy. Seconds to lose forever.

This week’s SOHB (State of The Heart Branding) Story Issue #5 attached below exposes the brutal truth: In a world where currencies crash, stocks tank, and even your WiFi betrays you, TRUST is the only currency that doesn’t depreciate.

We’re serving up the cold, hard facts about why brands with trust issues are basically the emotional equivalent of a gas station sushi—nobody’s buying what you’re selling, no matter how cheap you make it. We’re serving up the hard truth: Trust is the only currency your brand can’t afford to counterfeit.

“Who needs crypto when you’ve got the only currency that doesn’t crash? Forget Bitcoin, forget Dogecoin — Trust is the real coin of the realm.“

From brand loyalty to boardroom buy-in, trust is the bedrock of empires and the antidote to the SOS(Sea of Sameness).

Because your brand is only as good as the trust it inspires. And if you don’t get that, you’re better off trading in Pokemon cards.

If you’ve got trust, you and your brand are recession-proof.

So, before you slap another ‘authentic’ (yes, we see that typo) trust-building campaign together, ask yourself: ‘Would I trust me?’ If the answer’s ‘Hell no,’ grab Issue #5 of SOHB Story attached above👆and get your act together. Or don’t—and enjoy your brand’s upcoming ‘corporate villain era.’ Your call.

Read it. Share it. Live it.

Is Your Brand Boring Because Your People Are Bored?

Money can buy a lot of things, but it can’t buy passion. That’s why the most dangerous thing in business isn’t a bigger budget — it’s an unleashed heart.

Ever noticed how the most iconic brands weren’t built by suits and spreadsheets — but by borderline-obsessed lunatics with fire in their bellies?

Every unicorn startup that’s eaten a Fortune 500’s lunch had one secret weapon that spreadsheets can’t measure and consultants can’t replicate. It’s not AI, it’s not venture capital, it’s not even brilliant strategy. It’s the invisible force that makes customers camp outside Apple stores and tattoo Harley-Davidson logos on their chests.

Hire Believers, Not Just Employees. Zappos pays new hires $4,000 to quit after training—because if you’re not all-in, you’re in the way.

Turn Work Into a Mission (Not Just a Job) – SpaceX employees don’t just build rockets—they’re colonizing Mars. That’s a hell of a Monday morning meeting agenda.

Build a Tribe, Not Just a Customer Base– Apple’s cult-like following isn’t about specs—it’s about belonging to something bigger.

Lead With Heart (Or Get Out of the Way) – Richard Branson didn’t build Virgin by playing it safe—he built it by living the brand (and occasionally crashing balloons for fun).

Let Passion Drive Innovation– 3M’s “15% Time“ led to Post-it Notes. Meanwhile, your “strictly by the handbook” policy led to…TPS reports.

In 2025, the average consumer encounters 10,000 brand messages daily. 99.9% bounce off like rain on concrete. But 0.1% pierce straight through to the heart. The difference? One taps into something shareholders care about. The other taps into something humans would die for.

Passion Capital is the emotional equity that transforms transactions into relationships and customers into evangelists. Traditional capital gets you a customer. Passion Capital gets you a customer who’ll argue with strangers on the internet about why your product is superior. That’s the difference between a transaction and a religion.

A video here on passion capital .

LEGO didn’t just survive the digital age—they conquered it. While toy companies panicked about tablets, LEGO embraced their core passion: the joy of creation. Result? Adult fans spend $2.4 billion annually on sets, and LEGO movies gross nearly $900 million worldwide.

Authentic passion can’t be manufactured, but it can be amplified. Organizations must align their deepest values with market needs. Fake passion is like a bad toupée—everyone can tell, but nobody wants to be the one to say it. Ben & Jerry’s didn’t just sell ice cream; they sold activism you could taste. Their “Dough” for social justice turned frozen dessert into frozen ideology. Even after Unilever‘s acquisition, that passion foundation kept the brand premium while competitors melted away. That is authenticity algorithm at work!

Passionate brands create communities, not just customer bases. These communities become self-sustaining marketing machines.

Peloton created a $50 billion valuation not by selling exercise bikes, but by selling belonging. Their riders don’t just work out—they join a movement. The brand’s passion for transformation created tribes of unpaid ambassadors worth more than any ad campaign. That is the network effect of purpose.

Passion Capital creates anti-fragile brands that grow stronger during crises while purely profit-driven competitors crumble.

During COVID-19, Nike‘s passionate commitment to athletic achievement led them to quickly pivot to supporting frontline workers and home fitness. Their stock hit all-time highs while other retailers struggled, because their purpose transcended selling shoes. That is called earning the resilience dividend.

Organizations that build Passion Capital don’t just create brands—they create movements. They don’t just serve markets—they shape cultures. In an attention-deficit world drowning in choices, the companies that survive and thrive will be those that give people something worth caring about.

The question isn’t whether you can afford to invest in Passion Capital. The question is whether you can afford not to—while your competitors figure it out first.

In business, as in life, passion is the ultimate multiplier. Everything else is just arithmetic.

If your team’s pulse doesn’t race for your brand, neither will your customer’s. Passion is viral — it infects teams, seduces customers, and defies logic. If you can’t make your employees feel goosebumps, your brand’s stuck in reverse.

If your brand doesn’t stand for something bigger, it’ll fall for anything cheaper.

Passion Capital is a renewable resource. Unlike financial capital, passion capital grows stronger with use.Spend passion, not just money; you’ll never run out of the former.

In the end, passion is the only currency that doesn’t depreciate. It’s the beating heart of world-class brands — and the only competitive advantage that no one can steal.

If it doesn’t make you sweat, it won’t make them care. Time to crank up the passion capital.

Hey CEOs, CXOs, Brand Guardians, Brand Alchemists, Brand Overlords, Aspiring Legends and Branding Nerds:

Your brand’s resume might be flawless, but how is its bedside manner?

Story Twist #1:Nobody gives a damn about your brand’s 47 product features

Story Twist #2:Your “award-winning customer service” feels like talking to a sociopathic robot

Story Twist #3: Your brand personality has the charisma of wet cardboard

Smart brands inform. Emotionally intelligent brands transform. Heart trumps mind every time.

The million-dollar question: Is your brand solving problems, or is it solving feelings?

The savage reality? Brands with high IQ and zero EQ are like that friend who corrects your grammar during your breakup story. Technically right, emotionally bankrupt, and ultimately unforgettable for all the wrong reasons.

Here’s what’s actually happening: While you are optimizing conversion rates, emotionally intelligent brands are creating obsession rates.

While you are AB testing subject lines, they’re AB testing souls.

While you’re measuring click-through rates, they’re measuring cry-through rates.

The kicker? Your customers don’t want to buy from you. They want to buy into you.

For CEOs: Stop asking “Are we the smartest brand in the room?” Start asking “Are we the most emotionally attuned?”

For Brand Marketers: Your next campaign strategy should begin with “How do we want them to feel?” not “What do we want them to know?”

For Entrepreneurs: Your brand’s emotional intelligence is your unfair advantage in a world drowning in logical sameness.

For Students: Study the brands that make you feel something. That’s your real textbook.

SOHB Story Issue #4 will perform surgery on your brand’s emotional blindness. No anesthesia. No mercy. Just the raw truth about why your customers are swiping left on your perfectly logical brand.

Because in a world of predominantly emotionally constipated brands, the one with actual feelings wins everything.

So, if you’re ready to stop chasing KPIs and start chasing Kisses Per Interaction, this issue is your new best friend.

Ready to stop being the brand equivalent of a participation trophy? Read on!

SOHB Story: Because brands that feel, sell.

What’s the difference between a traditional marketer and a street dog? The street dog eventually stops following you.

Marketing is like dating in 2025 – everyone’s desperate, everyone’s swiping frantically, and the hottest person at the party is the one who’s not even trying. Food for Torque: That should be your brand.

Here’s a radical thought: maybe your brand doesn’t need to be liked by everyone. Maybe it needs to have the guts to be remembered by someone.

Welcome to the slutty truth of modern marketing. Let’s be brutally honest – marketing today has become the equivalent of that friend who posts 47 Instagram stories a day about their morning smoothie. Desperate. Needy. Exhausting.

Every brand is basically strip-teasing for attention: “Look at me! Notice me! Love me! Buy from me!” It’s like watching a digital red-light district where everyone’s shouting their rates while the customers walk by with their AirPods in.

Let’s not sugarcoat it: most marketing is about as exciting as a Zoom call with your insurance agent. Enter UnMarketing—a glorious middle finger to the tired, the templated, and the totally try-hard. This isn’t about shouting louder; it’s about making people lean in and whisper, “Tell me more.”

UnMarketing is the art of seduction, not the science of spam. It’s about being so damn interesting, people want to swipe right on your brand—again and again. It’s for brands that know mediocrity is the most expensive mistake of all. It’s about refusing to be the brand equivalent of elevator music.

UNMarketing is the art of keeping your clothes on while everyone else is naked. And guess what? You’re the one they’re all staring at.

Humans are wired to want what they can’t have. One can define it as the scarcity porn phenomenon. It’s the same reason exclusive clubs have velvet ropes and why that restaurant with no menu always has a waiting list. Scarcity is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

UNmarketing is the playbook to use because begging is bad for business. Traditional marketing is that drunk guy at the bar shouting, “BUY ME!” UNMarketing is the smooth operator who gets your number before you even realize you gave it. Red Bull’s “Gives You Wings” (But Never Says “Buy Our Crap”): They funded Felix Baumgartner’s space jump instead of running boring ads. Now that’s brand equity. Ryanair’s Troll Marketing: They roast customers, meme their own delays, and still fill flights. Because audacity sells. Swiggy’s Late-Night Hunger Puns: They know you’re drunk-ordering biryani at 2 AM—and they lean in. Fevicol (India): Their ads stick in your head longer than their glue sticks to furniture. Remember the “Fevicol ka jod”? That’s not just adhesive, that’s cultural superglue. Liquid Death’s “Murder Your Thirst” – They’re selling water in a can, but their brand voice? Straight outta a heavy metal festival.

Ask: If your ad was a pickup line, would it get a laugh or a restraining order?

Silence is Sexier Than a 50% Off Scream – Luxury brands whisper. Beige Ferrari ads don’t say “SALE.” Ditch the Corporate Condoms. Drop the jargon. Speak human. If you wouldn’t say it at a bar, don’t say it in your campaign. Humor Is the Ultimate Aphrodisiac: Want loyalty? Make ‘em laugh.

In a world of copy-paste campaigns and soulless slogans, UnMarketing is the rebel with a cause—and a killer sense of humor. So next time you’re about to hit ‘send’ on that bland, beige email blast, ask: Would you want to read this after three drinks? If not, pour yourself another, and UnMarket like you mean it.

Because at the end of the day, if you’re not making people laugh, think, or fall a little bit in love, you’re just another noise in the crowd. And who the hell wants to be that?

Play it safe, and your brand will be left in the it real, play it raw, and watch how your tribe finds you. Marketing is about faking smiles. UNMarketing is about baring your teeth.If that means you’ll ruffle some feathers? Pluck those damn feathers and wear them like a crown.

Ever heard of a brand so forgettable it made tofu seem exciting? Yeah, neither have we—because they vanished faster than our motivation on a Monday morning. Brand awareness isn’t just about slapping a logo on a billboard; it’s about colonizing consumer brains (legally, of course).

In a hyper-connected world, where even your toaster’s got an attitude (yes, I’m looking at you, smart home gadgets), brands are forced to up their game—because consumers are woke, wired, and weaponized with infinite choice.

Successful brands—both global and Indian—have cracked the code: a mix of creativity, cultural relevance, and a dash of audacity. Take Apple’s “Shot on iPhone” campaign, which turned every user into a brand ambassador, or Dove’s “Real Beauty” movement that challenged beauty norms and made us all feel a little better about our selfies. These campaigns didn’t just sell products; they sold stories, emotions, and a sense of belonging.

Take Nike’s “Just Do It”—three words that turned sneakers into sermons. Or Apple, which made buying a phone feel like joining a cult (minus the questionable robes). Closer home, Amul’s butter-loving moppet has been roasting politicians and trends since 1966—proof that wit + consistency = immortality.

Meanwhile, Indian startups like Zomato and CRED don’t just sell services; they sell personality. Zomato’s savage tweets and CRED’s absurdly elite ads make consumers go, “I don’t need this… but I WANT it.” That’s the magic—when your brand becomes a mood, not just a menu.

Consumers today don’t want to be sold to—they want to be swept off their feet, wined, dined, and occasionally meme’d. They’ve got their BS detectors on high alert. And with data privacy watchdogs on speed dial, brands better be careful where they poke!

Remember, it’s no longer enough for brands to talk—they need to walk the walk, dance the jig, and maybe even do the floss if the audience demands it.

So, dear brands—stop treating your customers like ATMs with trust issues. They’re not here for your products; they’re here for your promises. Keep it real, keep it human, and remember: If you can’t outsmart them, at least outlaugh them!

In a world where attention is the new currency and authenticity is rarer than honest politicians, the brands that survive won’t be the ones with the biggest budgets – they’ll be the ones with the biggest personalities. Because in the end, people don’t buy products; they buy stories, emotions, and the promise that this purchase will make them slightly cooler than their neighbors.

It is said that when Boeing was developing the 787 Dreamliner– the project faced massive delays partly because of poor coordination and endless meetings across continents that didn’t lead to clear decisions. The lesson? Meetings without clear objectives and follow-ups are like flying blind — you might end up crashing your project!

At the other end, in Andhra Pradesh, political parties like the TDP and YSR Congress hold intense meetings to strategize elections. But it’s not just about talking; they use these gatherings to build alliances, delegate responsibilities, and make decisions that affect millions. The key takeaway? Meetings can be powerful when they’re about action, not just chatter.

Imagine meetings as a masala dosa — a crispy, golden-brown exterior with a spicy, flavorful filling. If you get the batter wrong or the filling bland, you end up with a soggy mess nobody wants to touch. Similarly, a meeting without preparation or purpose is just a waste of everyone’s time and energy.

There is this famous Amazon’s silent start hack– Jeff Bezos made 6-page memos mandatory before Amazon meetings. The first 30 minutes? Dead silence—everyone reads first, debates later. Result? Informed, high-IQ discussions.

Takeaway:Preparation > Improvisation. Ditch the small talk, start smart.

The average executive spends 23 hours a week in meetings. That’s more time than most people spend sleeping. No wonder everyone looks dead inside. Not funny. Sleep over it!

The meeting epidemic is a global pandemic nobody talks about. Meetings are the workplace equivalent of that relative who overstays their welcome, eats all your food, and somehow makes everything about themselves. They multiply faster than rabbits on Red Bull, serve no clear purpose, and leave everyone questioning their life choices.

Microsoft‘s own research shows that the average worker attends 62 meetings per month. SIXTY-TWO! That’s roughly three meetings every working day. At this rate, we’ll soon need meetings to discuss when to schedule meetings to plan other meetings.

Reed Hastings, founder of Netflix had a Keeper Test– he asked managers a simple question: “Which of your people would you fight to keep if they wanted to leave?” Those who didn’t make the cut were shown the door. No endless meetings about “performance improvement plans.” Just decisive action.

Before Amazon acquired them, Flipkart pioneered stand-up meetings. Literally. No chairs. Meetings that would have dragged for hours suddenly wrapped up in 15 minutes. Coincidence? I think not.

If you want to understand the anatomy of meeting madness, it is important to look at the main characters. We have all seen them in some hue or form. There is The Meeting Hoarder who schedules meetings like they’re collecting Pokemon cards. “Gotta catch ’em all!” Their calendar looks like a Tetris game designed by a sadist. Get ready to welcome the The Agenda Ghost who calls meetings without agendas. It’s like inviting people to dinner but not telling them if they’re eating pizza or performing surgery. Since talk is cheap, put your hands together for The Monologue Monster- yes the one who talks for 47 minutes in a 30-minute meeting. Somehow makes “quick update” sound like a Shakespearean soliloquy. Zoom into the Zoom Zombie– you know the type- Camera off, muted, probably shopping online. Occasionally unmutes to say “Sorry, can you repeat that?” Master of the art of looking busy while being completely checked out.

In India, we’ve elevated meeting dysfunction to an art form. We have meetings before meetings (pre-reads), meetings during meetings (sidebar discussions), and meetings after meetings (debrief sessions). It’s meeting inception(unfortunately not directed by Christopher Nolan) – we need to go deeper!

In Indian corporates, the meeting doesn’t start until the most senior person arrives. Let’s call it the hierarchy dance. Even if they’re 45 minutes late. Because apparently, time is a social construct that bends to organizational charts. We love consensus so much that we’ll spend six months agreeing on the color of a PowerPoint template. Democracy is beautiful, but efficiency is sexier. Consensus Paralysis anyone?

Here’s a number that’ll make your accountant weep: The average mid-level executive costs an Indian company ₹50,000 per month. If they spend 20 hours a week in useless meetings, that’s ₹25,000 worth of wasted salary. Per person. Per month. Multiply that across your organization, and you’re basically funding a small country’s GDP on talking about work instead of doing work.

Harvard Business Review found that 67% of senior managers reported having too many meetings interfered with their deep work. Translation: The people running companies can’t actually run companies because they’re too busy talking about running companies. The Indian Innovation Paradox is where we talk about becoming a global innovation hub while spending more time in meeting rooms than R&D labs. It’s like training for a marathon by attending seminars about running.

Well, all is not lost. Some wise people out there have recommended a few fundamental rules.

Rule#1– Ask three questions before scheduling any meeting: Can this be an email? (90% of the time, yes); Who actually needs to be here? (Usually 50% fewer people than you think); What’s the specific outcome we need? (If you can’t answer this, cancel the meeting).

Rule#2– The 18 Minute Meeting–  Stanford research shows attention spans peak at 18 minutes. Anything longer, and you’re just testing people’s bladder capacity, not their brainpower.

Rule#3– The No Device Policy– Laptops closed. Phones face down. Crazy concept: actually pay attention to the meeting you called.

Rule#4– The Action Item Accountability– End every meeting with specific action items, owners, and deadlines. Otherwise, you’ve just organized a very expensive group therapy session.

If meetings were an Olympic sport, we’d have more gold medals than China’s ping-pong team!

Amidst all the meeting related doom and gloom, it is heartening some of the organisations who are getting it right. Shopify’s Meeting Purge: Back in 2023, Shopify canceled all recurring meetings with 3+ people and eliminated most meetings altogether. Result? Productivity skyrocketed. Employee happiness through the roof. Stock price loved it. Patagonia’s Walking Meetings: They literally took meetings outside. Walking while talking increased creativity by 60% and reduced meeting time by 40%. Fresh air: apparently good for business. Indian Success Story – Zerodha: Nithin Kamath runs one of India’s largest brokerages with minimal meetings. Their secret? Asynchronous communication and trusting people to do their jobs without constant supervision. Revolutionary.

Meetings aren’t inherently evil. Bad meetings are. The difference? Intentionality, preparation, and the radical idea that people’s time has value.

Companies that master meeting efficiency don’t just save money – they save sanity, boost creativity, and actually get stuff done. In a world where everyone’s competing for talent, being the company that respects people’s time is your secret weapon.

Meetings, are the Bermuda Triangle of productivity. Here’s what we’ve all seen, heard, and survived: The Indian startup founder with an ear-to-ear grin saying, “Let’s do a quick 15-minute sync-up,” but it’s longer than a Bollywood wedding. The American tech bro bragging, “We’re an agile team – we stand up!”…while discussing the same bullet point for 3 hours. The Japanese executive nodding politely through a 30-slide deck, only to ask one question at the end that derails the entire project.

Never under estimate The Power of No: Just because you got a calendar invite doesn’t mean you have to show up. Sometimes, the best contribution is to say no and let others fumble. Stand-Up, Sit-Down, Shut-Up: If you’re doing a stand-up meeting – stand up. It’s amazing how quickly people wrap up when their legs hurt.

Let’s Be Real: I’m not saying meetings are the enemy. But most of them are about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. What we need is a meeting mindset shift: Less ‘death by PowerPoint’, more ‘life by action points.’ Less ‘who talks the most’, more ‘who does the most.’

So, next time someone says, “Let’s set up a quick call,” ask yourself:
Is this meeting going to be a game-changer – or just another episode of ‘Talking Heads?’ If it’s the latter, do us all a favor: just hit ‘Decline’.

Dear Fellow Brand Alchemists

We live in an age where we worship at the altar of analytics. We chase conversion rates like prophets seeking divine revelation, dissect customer journeys with surgical precision, and genuflect before dashboards that promise to decode the mysteries of human behavior.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth that’s been staring us in the face while we’ve been busy counting clicks: We’ve been listening to whispers while ignoring the roar.

So, MARKETERS, BRAND BUILDERS & DATA JUNKIES…

If you’re still counting clicks like they’re confessions,
you’re reading the wrong gospel.

Emotion is the new data. And it’s LOUDER than your entire Martech stack.It doesn’t show up on your dashboard. It shows up in goosebumps. In lump-in-throat moments.

In the pause before someone says, “This brand gets me”.

Clicks whisper. Feelings roar. “The most valuable data point is the lump in your customer’s throat.”

If your brand doesn’t make people feel…It’s just more noise in the scroll.

Ditch the obsession with CTR. Start a Connection Triggered Revolution.

In this issue of SOHB Story, we’re torching the false idol of big data worship and revealing why the most powerful analytics tool isn’t in your dashboard—it’s in the human heart.

Brands, take a look at the unfair competitive advantage of actually caring.

We’ve convinced ourselves that bigger data equals better insights. We’re digital hoarders, collecting every scroll, swipe, and hover as if accumulating enough breadcrumbs will somehow lead us to the gingerbread house of perfect understanding. But data without emotion is like trying to understand a symphony by counting the notes—technically accurate, utterly soulless.

If data is king, emotion is the revolution. More in this issue of SOHB Story attached above👆.

The brands that win won’t just capture attention—they’ll captivate hearts.

Stay Maverick ; Stay Human– Read it. Feel it. Share it. Because the future belongs to the brands that make spines tingle. Not just pixels move.

It’s my way of encouraging the world to feel, not just click🙏.

Let’s start with a brutal truth—humanity’s greatest innovations didn’t come from optimization. They came from inefficiency, chaos, and glorious, unapologetic waste.

The wheel? Probably invented by some caveman who was sick of dragging his dinner home. The internet? Born because a bunch of nerds wanted to share cat pictures (and, okay, maybe some defense research). Yet here we are, in 2025, worshipping at the altar of optimization like it’s the messiah of progress.

Let me paint you a picture. It’s Monday morning in Bangalore, and Rajesh – let’s call him that because every corporate story needs a Rajesh( or feel free to call him Suresh) – is optimizing his commute. He’s calculated that leaving at 8:17 AM (not 8:15, not 8:20, but precisely 8:17) will get him to office in exactly 43 minutes, accounting for traffic patterns, monsoon probability, and the likelihood of his neighbor’s car having an existential crisis in the parking lot.

Rajesh has also optimized his breakfast (protein shake in 2.5 minutes), his shower routine (military precision), and even his goodbye kiss to his wife (efficiency over passion, apparently). By the time he reaches office, he’s already mentally exhausted from being optimal.

Sounds ridiculous? Of course it does. But we’re all Rajesh in some way. We’ve all drunk the optimization Kool-Aid so deeply that we’ve forgotten a fundamental truth: Life isn’t a machine, and neither are humans. Yet here we are, frantically trying to squeeze every drop of efficiency from our existence like we’re some kind of human juice boxes.

Here’s the dirty little secret optimization evangelists don’t want you to know: Peak efficiency is the enemy of breakthrough innovation. When everything is optimized, there’s no room for the beautiful accidents that create magic. Post-it Notes were born from a “failed” attempt to create super-strong adhesive. Penicillin was discovered because Alexander Fleming was messy and left his lab cultures exposed. Twitter emerged from a failing podcasting company. Slack was a byproduct of a failed gaming venture.

None of these revolutionary innovations would have survived an optimization audit. They were all “inefficient” uses of resources, time, and talent. Yet they changed the world. As some wise soul remarked ” the best ideas come during periods of slack, not during the tyranny of a hustle “.

On a personal level, we’ve optimized ourselves into misery. We track our steps, monitor our sleep cycles, optimize our diets, and schedule our spontaneity. We’ve turned life into a performance metric and wondered why we feel so empty. The corporate obsession with optimization stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of what business is about. We’ve confused activity with achievement, busyness with business, and metrics with meaning.

The irony is delicious: In trying to eliminate waste, we’ve wasted the very thing that makes businesses human – the capacity for surprise, creativity, and genuine connection.

Here’s a radical thought( we can dare to term it ” strategic inefficiency “): What if we deliberately built inefficiency into our systems? What if we optimized for serendipity instead of predictability?

Some of the world’s most successful companies already do this. Netflix gives employees unlimited vacation time – completely inefficient from an HR perspective, but it attracts and retains creative talent. Patagonia shuts down on powder days so employees can go skiing – terrible for quarterly metrics, amazing for company culture.

In India, Tata Group‘s approach to CSR is strategically inefficient. They could optimize their charitable giving for maximum tax benefits, but instead, they focus on long-term social impact. This “inefficiency” has built them a brand reputation that money can’t buy.

Some of history’s greatest achievements came from people who were terrible at optimization. If we were to look at productive procrastination, look no further than Charles Darwin who took twenty years to publish “On the Origin of Species” – imagine the project management nightmare! Gandhi‘s non-violent resistance was spectacularly inefficient compared to armed revolution, yet it proved more powerful.

Even in modern times, Lin-Manuel Miranda spent seven years creating “Hamilton” while working on other projects. From an optimization standpoint, it was a disaster. From a creative standpoint, it was genius.

The solution isn’t to abandon all efficiency – that would be equally foolish. The answer is to optimize selectively and purposefully. Optimize the stuff that doesn’t matter so you can be gloriously inefficient with the stuff that does. Look around the world, and you’ll find that the most vibrant, creative, and ultimately successful societies aren’t the most optimized ones. Italy‘s “inefficient” lunch culture creates social bonds that fuel business relationships. Japan‘s seemingly wasteful consensus-building process (nemawashi) actually accelerates implementation. Brazil‘s carnival is economically ridiculous and culturally invaluable.

The Nordic countries consistently top happiness and innovation indices not because they’re optimized, but because they’ve optimized for the right things – human wellbeing over economic efficiency.

Remember that we humans aren’t machines. We’re beautifully inefficient creatures capable of magic precisely because we’re not optimized. Measure what matters, not what’s measurable. The most important things in life – love, creativity, wisdom, joy – resist quantification.

You can’t Six Sigma your way to serendipity, buddy. Optimization is the treadmill that convinces you you’re running a marathon—until you collapse… and realize you haven’t moved an inch.

Optimization started off as a good thing. Streamline processes. Save time. Improve outcomes. Get that extra per unit margin. But somewhere between the third iteration of a Gantt chart and your CEO quoting The Lean Startup like scripture, it became a disease. A cult. A blindfolded conga line of efficiency junkies chasing illusions of perfection while tripping over their own humanity. A lot of us are trapped in the algorithmic asylum.

Airlines are masters of optimization—charging for every inch of legroom, every ounce of baggage, and even for breathing the cabin air (almost). But in their quest to optimize costs, they’ve optimized customer experience into oblivion. Ever tried to get a refund or speak to a human? That’s optimization gone rogue.

Look at something closer to the bone, in our own lives- we now try to read books faster (ever heard of Blinkist? It’s like dating the summary of a person). Meditate more efficiently (10x Calm™—because who has 20 minutes to find peace?). Multitask every waking minute (emails on the toilet, Slack on the treadmill, podcasts while sleeping).

We’ve optimized life into a series of productivity sprints, all while forgetting that joy, presence, and wonder are gloriously inefficient. Remember that no one ever had a great first kiss that was optimized. Nobody ever reminisces, “That vacation was a Six Sigma success.” Because magic doesn’t scale.

Most orgs don’t have culture anymore. They have KPI-infused compliance theatres. We now optimize for meetings- read death by calendar. Optimize for emails -read CC everybody, say nothing. Optimize for “time saved” -read only to fill it with more pointless crap.

You’ve turned employees into dashboards. Leaders into data pimps. And customers into conversion rates. Congratulations, you just auto-tuned authenticity out of your brand.

Here’s the rub: Efficiency isn’t evil. Obsession with it is. Optimization becomes a trap when it becomes the default lens for every decision. When it overrides spontaneity, slack, intuition, and play. When it treats humans like code to be debugged and accelerated.

Gandhi didn’t optimize. He walked. Rumi didn’t A/B test his poems.Van Gogh didn’t use “sprint planning” to slice his ear. They lived in the mess. They mined meaning from the mush. Optimised wisdom anyone?

The universe didn’t optimize sunsets. It just made them beautiful. Your child’s giggle. A stolen kiss. A silly mistake that became a lifelong story. None of them were on a Gantt chart.

Stop sprinting. Start stumbling into wonder. Stay gloriously unoptimized.

Let’s take a stroll through history’s greatest hits of “How the hell did that work out so well?”

Amitabh Bachchan was rejected by All India Radio because his voice was deemed “unsuitable for radio.” THE AMITABH BACHCHAN. The man whose voice could make a grocery list sound like poetry. Imagine if he had accepted that verdict and spent his life whispering apologetically. Indian cinema would have collapsed from the sheer absence of baritone brilliance.

Sachin Tendulkar was dropped from his school cricket team. The boy who would become the God of Cricket was told he wasn’t good enough for his school team. If he had tattooed “NOT CRICKET MATERIAL” on his forehead and taken up accounting, India would still be crying.

J.K. Rowling was a divorced, depressed single mother on welfare when she started writing Harry Potter. Twelve publishers rejected her manuscript. TWELVE. That’s not just rejection; that’s a coordinated effort by the universe to tell you to quit. She didn’t. Today, she’s richer than the Queen of England and has created a fictional world more popular than most real countries.

Steve Jobs got fired from Apple – by the board of directors of the company he literally created in his garage. That’s like being kicked out of your own birthday party. But instead of spending the next decade introducing himself as “Steve, the guy who got fired from his own company,” he went off, built Pixar, revolutionized animated movies, came back to Apple, and basically invented the device you’re probably reading this on. His firing wasn’t career suicide; it was career resurrection.

Colonel Sanders – Rejected 1,009 times before someone finally said “yes” to his chicken recipe. If he had tattooed “FAILURE” on his forehead after rejection #500, we’d all be eating inferior fried chicken today. The horror!

Remember when A.R. Rahman was rejected by multiple music directors in the 90s? One producer literally told him his music was “too Western” for Indian audiences. Fast forward to today – the man has two Oscars and a shelf groaning under the weight of awards. That producer probably tells people at parties, “I discovered Rahman” (which is like saying you discovered the sun).

And our beloved APJ Abdul Kalam? Failed to become a fighter pilot. FAILED. Can you imagine if he had spent his life saying, “I’m Abdul, the guy who couldn’t fly planes”? Instead, he became the People’s President and inspired millions to dream of touching the sky.

With the above, we just took a world tour of the Museum of Human Stupidity.

You’re reading this because you’ve done something that makes you want to change your identity faster than a witness protection participant. Maybe you sent a love text to your boss. Maybe you invested your life savings in cryptocurrency based on a TikTok tip. Maybe you told your mother-in-law exactly what you thought about her “helpful” parenting advice.

Welcome to the club. Population: Everyone who’s ever been human for more than five minutes.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth nobody’s brave enough to tell you while you’re busy crafting your apology tour: You are not your mistakes. You’re just really, really committed to the performance.

BTW, Your mistakes called. They’re tired of being your full-time identity and want to go back to being part-time teachers. Time to give them notice.

Let’s stop treating mistakes like they’re head lice—something to be hidden and whispered about. They’re the reason you’re not still eating Cerelac at 30. Mistakes are your personal trainers—minus the six-pack and the annoying motivational quotes. They slap you, shake you, and force you to level up. In effect, mistakes are the real MVPs of your story.

Narayana Murthy was told to stop dreaming. He was rejected by Indian bureaucracy when he tried launching his first venture. So he started Infosys.
And now those same bureaucrats use Infosys software to reject other dreamers faster. Life’s poetic like that.

Some mistakes that became classic masterpieces include Post-it Notes which were an accidental failure of a super-strong adhesive. Penicillin came from moldy negligence. India’s Chandrayaan-2 crash paved the way for the successful Chandrayaan-3.

Thomas Edison – This guy “failed” over 1,000 times before inventing the light bulb. Today, we don’t call him “Thomas the Guy Who Really Sucked at Making Light Bulbs.” We call him a genius. Imagine if he had given up after attempt #47 and spent the rest of his life introducing himself as “Hi, I’m Tom, the guy who can’t figure out electricity.”

Indian families have invented the most sophisticated mistake amplification system known to humanity. We can take a small error and turn it into a multi-generational saga worthy of a Saas-Bahu serial.

“Beta, remember when you scored 89% instead of 90% in 7th grade? That’s why you’re still unmarried at 28.”

“You chose arts instead of science? That’s why there’s global warming.”

But here’s the rebellion we need: Start introducing yourself by your dreams, not your disasters.

Instead of “I’m the one who failed CA twice,” try “I’m the one figuring out my path to financial expertise.”

Instead of “I’m terrible at relationships,” experiment with “I’m learning what love means to me.”

Every mistake is just a poorly marketed learning experience. That startup that crashed? You didn’t fail; you got an MBA in entrepreneurship without the student loan. That relationship that ended? You didn’t lose; you gained a PhD in understanding your own heart. All it needs is a bit of reframing.

Mistakes come with expiry dates, but we keep them fresh in our minds like that pickle our mothers insist has “good preservatives.” Time to clean out the mental refrigerator, folks.

You are the author of your life story. Mistakes are plot points, not the entire narrative. Would you rather be remembered as “the person who made that error in Chapter 3” or “the person who wrote an amazing comeback in Chapter 15?

So, dear beautiful mess of a human being reading this while probably procrastinating on something important: Your mistakes are not your identity. They are your teachers, your redirects, your plot twists, and sometimes, your greatest blessings in disguise. Stop introducing yourself at the court of your own conscience as “the defendant.” You are the judge, the jury, and the person who gets to write the final verdict. And that verdict should always be: “Not guilty of being permanently defined by temporary actions.”

Now go mess up something new. Make it spectacular. Make it educational. Make it yours. Because you are not your mistakes. You are what comes after them.

If you’re not making mistakes, you’re not living. You’re just rehearsing for a play no one will watch. Start treating your failures like a startup treats a pivot – not as a failure, but as a course correction based on market feedback. Your life is not crashing; it’s iterating. Indulge in some rebranding strategy.

Remember that whoever invented autocorrect probably made a few typos first. And look how much joy that invention has brought to group chats worldwide. Stop introducing yourself as your worst decision. You wouldn’t introduce pizza as ‘bread that failed to be bread.’ You’re not failure with a human costume.