Category: Storytelling

Visions of the Future: Time’s Up

Posted on by Bex Felton

September 3rd, 1944. Montgomery, Alabama. Recy Taylor, a 24 year-old woman, wife and mother is kidnapped and raped by six armed men as she walks home from church. She is black and they are white. Left by the highway. Threatened with death if she tells her story.

But she tells it anyway. Even when they firebomb her home, terrorise her family.

I can’t help but tell the truth of what they done to me.

Her words find their way to seasoned NAACP investigator and activist by the name of Rosa Parks. Rosa Parks, a young woman who fights an old injustice, who has built her life on the power of personal narrative:

I talked and talked of everything I know about the white man’s inhuman treatment of the negro.

Who as a child, facing down schoolyard bullies, already knows this much:

I would rather be lynched than live to be mistreated and not be allowed to say ‘I don’t like it’.

They call her agitator, trouble-maker. Send death threats. But no matter. Freedom fighters never retire, she says. Stories must not be left to lie.

And when Recy Taylor’s attackers walk free – her case thrown out by an all-white, all-male jury – Rosa Parks is ready. Gets organised. Inspires a movement. Recy Taylor’s story spreads 1,055 miles, through churches and barbershops and the pages of the black press, to the streets of New York, where it grows to a clamour in the mouths of activists.

Justice does not prevail, this time. But a million drops of water are stronger than a stone wall. A groundswell has begun. The infrastructure of change has been forged in the steady flame of her testimony.

I can’t help but tell the truth of what they done to me.

And so Rosa Parks strives. Documents, with steady-eyed rigour, an epidemic of sexual violence; telling the stories of the women that history will try to forget.

Women like Gertrude Perkins. Raped in 1949 by two white Montgomory police officers. Whose two-month protest reaches the front pages of the Montgomery Advertiser and a Grand Jury hearing. Justice does not prevail, this time. The groundswell grows stronger, but it does not burst the dam.

December 1st, 1955. Rosa Parks rides the bus home. The books will tell of her tired feet, but that’s not what she’s tired of. Enough is enough, this day. Her story travels. The boycotts begin. Successes are won.

But where is Rosa Parks? History will call her meek and mild; an elderly seamstress, defeated by another backbreaking day. Courage laced with the message of frailty.

People always say that I didn’t give up my seat because I was tired. But that isn’t true. The only tired I was, was of giving in.

Successes are won, but new walls are built. New injustices done, new stories unspoken.

Winter, 1998. Wisconsin. Danielle McGuire listens to her radio: to Joe Azbell, the editor of the Montgomery Advertiser, talk about Gertrude Perkins. Gertrude Perkins, who’s never mentioned in the history books, who has as much to do with the boycotts as anyone on earth.

History is a patchwork of absence, she realises: of missing stories waiting to be told.

And so she writes a book for these women: for Recy Taylor and Rosa Parks and Gertrude Perkins. She finds many more. And now we have a new history.

And now, slowly, the dam starts to burst. Now the world is a network of narratives. Now there are voices that say ‘Me Too’ in their millions and cannot be silenced.

And now there is a flood: now there are cracks in the corridors of power. There are changes, real changes, that feel different, somehow, this time.

And now there is not just a flood. There is a sea change. There are voices that say, Enough. Time’s Up. Trickles that become a stream, then a river, then an ocean of shared experience. Now there are new networks, and new powers, and a promise of transformation.

The Golden Globes, January 7th, 2018. Oprah Winfrey – black woman, woman, billionaire, rule-breaker, queen-and-king-maker, ground-shaker – takes to the stage and tells the story of Recy Taylor. And now the whole world is alive with her name. 

For too long, women have not been heard or believed if they dare speak the truth to the power of those men. But their time is up. Their time is up.

We are The Storytellers. We exist to move more people to do great things through the power and influence of storytelling.

What story will move you and the people around you to do great things in 2018? Share your story with us

Visions of the Future: James Webb

Posted on by Joe Mackay

November 21st, 1962. James Webb – the man who will lead NASA to put man on the moon –– sits with JFK in the Cabinet Room of the White House and tells him to go to hell.

Ignore the race with the Russians, he urges the President.

The race is not the priority. See the opportunity.

We can crack the universe wide open if only we take the time to really look.

We can hold the laws of nature in our hands by looking backwards into the galaxies.

We can know infinity. We can know ourselves.

James Webb – a man, not of science, but of law and government – is a man of rare vision. In his tenure, he will invest in robotics that will pave the way for human space travel; he will give us the first strange glimpse of Mars, and in 1965 he will begin his fight for a NASA-funded telescope so large it will pierce the unknown with the light of human will. His inspiration will accelerate the innovation that has transformed our world. It will move generations to do great things in the name of exploration.

And what a world it is. What an age of impossible realities we inhabit. We stand daily on the shoulders of giants, rewriting the boundaries of our own potential at such a pace that we’ve become immune to wonder.

We forget that there are still new things and new ways to see, or think, or know.

But when the James Webb Telescope launches next year – travelling one million miles in thirty days, until it reaches deepest space – we’ll see the vision of its namesake made real and his story told in the fabric of infinity. We’ll witness the birth of our galaxy 13.5 billion years ago, preserved in waves of light that have faded into infra-red. We’ll see the embers of the burning fires where our atoms came into being. We may find new life. We may rewrite the rulebook of the universe. When we ask why, the cosmos might just speak back to us. And the deeper we look, the further back we’ll see; the bigger we’ll think; the more we’ll dare to seek.

That’s worthy of a little wonder.

We are The Storytellers. We exist to move more people to do great things through the power and influence of storytelling.

What story will move you and the people around you to do great things in 2018? Share your story with us.

What has The Book of Mormon got to do with us?

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

Well, nothing really. Except that we had a terrific evening as a team at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Leicester Square last week, the evening before our annual company day. For those who haven’t seen this rip-roaring show, it recounts the challenges of two young Mormon missionaries who have been despatched to Uganda to baptise the locals into their faith. And you need to go in eyes wide open. Irreverent, funny, shocking, politically incorrect, outrageous, camp, insulting, entertaining, over-the-top, brilliant, eyebrow-raising…it’s one of a kind, and if you can get past the ridiculousness of it all you might see the serious message(s) that sit behind it.

Anyway, fast forward 16 hours and we are all (minus a few key players who sadly couldn’t make it due to client commitments) back at the theatre standing on what is actually a deceptively small stage to reflect on what had gone on the evening before, marvelling at the complexity of this fast-paced, precise production and the teamwork that exists to make it happen so apparently effortlessly. With Jaime, the theatre’s General Manager, giving us some fascinating insights into what it takes to put on a Broadway show in a London venue, what looked quite simple was quite evidently, er, not that simple. Politics, managing expectations, logistics, teamwork, collaboration, creative interpretation, courage, laser-sharp timing and delivery….well, you might just have been looking in at The Storytellers to see just how our programmes develop for our clients!

Of course there was a serious theme to all this. We had gathered at the theatre to launch our own Story in all its technicoloured glory, and to introduce the business plan for the next year. “We have pioneered storytelling in business…” the Story starts proudly in Chapter One, going on to recount the challenges and opportunities we face as a business, and focusing on what we need to do to grow in what is a challenging and uncertain world.

The overriding theme of the day though, was teamwork and collaboration (now perhaps you are starting to see the relevance of the theatre production). We just cannot exist or do business for our clients without an immense amount of belief and trust in each other. We all bring different skill sets to the business – strategic planning, creative, project management, consultancy, facilitation, writing, relationship-building, administration – and it’s the blend of these skills that makes magic happen. Our Story, which was presented by members of the team at every level, is OUR Story. It belongs to all of us, and without every single one of us playing our part, we are nothing. And we planned the day exactly as if we were planning it for a client. For those about to join the team (and who were invited to participate on the day) it was a remarkable insight into how our clients launch their own strategic narratives, as well as witnessing the amazing culture we have developed as a team. Our Story provides the framework for our business plan, and our business plan provides the framework for the many initiatives, plans and new ways of working we are currently embracing. Our company day gave people an opportunity to absorb some of this, interrogate it, feel proud of what we’ve achieved and excited about the future. Indeed, it’s a future worth being excited about.

I’d like to go back and see The Book of Mormon again, just to see the bits I missed (either because I was laughing so much or because there was just so much going on). Next time though, I’ll look at it through a different lens, with just a little more appreciation as to what it takes to make the complex look simple, and, as always, with a huge amount of appreciation for our amazing team.

Ways of rescuing

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

Many of you will be familiar with the writer, art historian, thinker and artist John Berger, most famous for the essential “Ways of Seeing”. As Berger approaches his 90th birthday, I found myself reading a few articles that celebrate this great figure of critical thinking – and a few shared thoughts on the power of storytelling.

First of all, I saw the following quote from Tilda Swinton on Berger:

“He always calls himself a storyteller rather than a writer – to recognise the stories woven around people, to bear witness to them, and simply identify stories good for the reader’s health.”

There is so much in this last part, a definition of storytelling vs. mere writing, that resonates – firstly, the notion that the stories that matter are almost always the ones focused around people. This is as true at a company level as it is on the individual level. At The Storytellers, we constantly strive to show how real people live at the centre of the overarching narratives we produce, putting them at the heart of our stories, our creative endeavours and our large-scale events.

The second part of this quote is also interesting, the notion of ‘bearing witness’. When it comes to winning the hearts and minds of an organisation, a compelling narrative is simply the first step. Compounding the belief that the business journey is the right one is indeed often a question of ‘bearing witness’ along the way – appreciating, sharing and celebrating the stories that attest to the contributions people make amplifies and corroborates the journey that everyone is on.

Finally, the notion of stories being good for people’s health should not be underestimated. Making sense of the world around us, making sense of the events that happen in our lives, bonding with others, framing a personal narrative for our own life and ambitions… these are all things that make us feel better in ourselves, and storytelling can play a vital role in fortifying these mental pillars. To put it plainly, stories make us feel good, in ways that we have only just begun to understand.

After reading Swinton’s great words on Berger, my interest was piqued and I read on, finding the following quote from the man himself:

“A story is always a rescuing operation.”

Now these words really got me thinking, not least because at a recent employee conference for one of our clients we touched on and discussed just this – the notion of ‘rescue stories’. In that particular context, we identified the value of looking for stories that not only celebrated great achievements, but also stories of when a situation or a person had been rescued from disaster by one or more colleagues. It’s a great idea – this means being brave enough to accept failure, celebrate the positive contribution of the people that rescued the situation, and being open to learning from any mistakes made.

But could it be that a story is always, in some way or other, about something or someone being rescued? To be rescued is to be saved, to be freed, to recover… and it’s not easy to think of many stories where this kind of theme is not present on some level.

So the idea of rescue being thematically an essential part of any story is certainly an interesting one… but I sense that Berger meant something different.

Considering the previous quote from Swinton, I can’t help but feel that it is the act of listening, of telling, of observing, of storytelling itself that is a rescuing operation, and this comes back to the notion of ‘bearing witness’. Without telling the story, the story is lost. Without storytelling, the endeavours we make towards our shared goals and ambitions never happened. Without storytelling, progress simply does not exist – it never happened.

To tell a story is to rescue something good from oblivion – and unless you tell it, oblivion is where the story, with all it’s human endeavour and personality, will go. Berger does not explicitly mention the fact that a good, but lost story tends to be replaced by something far more ugly… but I cannot help but think that this is another reason why Berger chose the word ‘rescue’ when musing on the power of storytelling. In telling a good story, we are rescued from the bad ones too.

As ever, storytelling shows itself to have a seemingly inexhaustible range of uses and applications. Salvation certainly can come from a story, and sometimes a story specifically about a phenomenal rescue is just what is needed… but Berger’s words tell us that on a deeper level, there is something about storytelling, in and of itself, that always saves.

Brexit: how the lack of a clear narrative has divided the nation

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

Two weeks ago just over half of the voting population in the UK decided the European Project is no longer working for them. And a fortnight later the picture is as unclear as it was the morning of 24 June, exacerbated further by a major leadership crisis in the Opposition party, together with a battle for leadership for the Conservative party following David Cameron’s resignation.

There is little doubt we are now living in a more disunited Europe but, more seriously, this has also become a worryingly disunited Britain. These divisions were not caused by the Referendum. But wow – has it brought them out!

On 23 June we were asked two simple questions: remain or exit? Reaching one answer released the ‘genie’ and we now have so many questions, with most of them substantially more critical than the original.

Who will now lead us? Will Britain be taken apart? Can we fix the social, age and identity rift? Will Europe punish us? What will a Europe without the UK become? Will we actually leave the European Union and if the future government decides NOT to invoke article 50, what will this mean to over 50% of the UK population?

The task of building a United Europe has been such a large venture over several decades. The European Union has certainly been no stranger to controversy, particularly at times when ‘costs without context’ were revealed, or enforced European Laws were perceived to trespass and indeed irritate our natural sense of independence. However, whether people have voted Remain or Leave, we must all accept that during this time the EU securely entered the bloodstream of the British Public Service. So the challenge is not just about physically leaving Europe: it’s now about rebooting all of our government systems and processes, plus rebooting a substantially bigger challenge: our mindset.

What does hindsight teach us about the two campaigns? Both missed shaping a visionary story, positioning their current reality, balancing authentic challenges with real opportunities, revealing their desired destination, inspiring voters to understand and believe in what they were hearing, making it personally relevant to them and their lives. In short: setting a purpose. Instead both sides simply replaced this with a series of threats, each with increasingly scary risks and damning consequences. And almost worse: the EU offered no story to share at all.

This unforgivable ‘lack of story’ is cited again and again by political commentators; cited for not offering considered clarity and direction, but also cited for creating a vacuum of confusion and uncertainty, allowing half-truths, feelings and threats to fester entirely unchallenged.

There is ample evidence a simple narrative painting a positive picture of a future in (or out of) the EU just may have delivered a fuller context to the crucial choice being faced. Without it voters felt a lack of understanding. Without it they felt remote. Wiithout it they sensed insufficient response to their concerns. Without it, a sense of alienation was allowed to well up. The European argument possibly lost touch with the very people it was being built for.

Interestingly, on both sides the ‘killer facts’ which were previously fuelling the threats have suddenly disappeared along with several prominent leading campaigners, resulting yet again in a vulnerable and potentially toxic vacuum without clear leadership. In light of this, we all will need to decide if we become the heroes or victims to this changing landscape: will we take control of our new reality or ‘simply accept’ whatever is being thrown at us? What will the new strategies and indeed stories be in this time of ‘not knowing’?

The discussion continues…

Storytelling in business: we’ve been reminiscing

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

We’ve been reminiscing today in the office. It’s 13 years since we founded The Storytellers, and what a journey it’s been so far.

Way back then we were pretty much lone rangers in storytelling and strategic narrative in business, having invented a tangible, proprietary methodology and rigorous process that uses storytelling to effect organisational change. Pioneering what could have been perceived at the time as a risky approach has taken nerve, hard work and a cast-iron conviction that this was a great idea. At the beginning, four of us had come up with the idea of creating an innovative product and process with storytelling at its heart and developed it round a kitchen table. We had no clients and no track record using this particular approach. It was a bit nerve-racking, to be honest. We all had families to support and mortgages to pay. The task of building a client base, a team that shared our vision, trying and testing our methodology, gaining a deep understanding of the neuroscience of it all (how and why storytelling can break down resistance to change) and actually make a living from all of this seemed like a tall order.

Yet it was different and new. Organisations were (and still are) going through unprecedented change, so the need was – and still is – there. What we hadn’t expected was the number of businesses that signed up to our approach and the newly coined phrase ‘rational and emotional connection’ almost immediately, with remarkable results. Since then we’ve honed, fine-tuned, tweaked and polished our programme, continually learning, innovating all the time and constantly looking for new creative concepts to keep our offer fresh and exciting. And we’ve worked with over 160 amazing, fantastic clients of every size, shape and in almost every industry sector, all over the world.

Today storytelling in business is part of business vernacular. The term ‘strategic narrative’ has been adopted by many, and business leaders have rightly recognised it as an essential skill for leadership, engagement and change.

No-one will ever be able to claim storytelling is theirs. After all, it’s been around for millions of years. But our reminiscing today took us to a place where we agreed that to be successful as entrepreneurs, you have to come up with something original that has a point of difference and believe in it. Really believe in it. You’ll have high points and low points on that journey. Others may well jump on your bandwagon and even try to steal your ideas (not so original). So you need to think of smart ways to keep ahead of the game. Creating a vision and working really hard to achieve it through thick and thin is the only way to succeed. As they say, the only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.

Thank you to everyone who’s supported us on our journey so far. We are truly grateful and still raise an eyebrow or two when we look back over the last decade! Today marks a new chapter in our journey. Watch this space!

A picture paints a thousand words: give creativity some slack

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

The other day someone relatively unfamiliar with our approach suggested that he wasn’t sure that people with an engineering, technical or analytical mindset would ‘get’ the creative aspect of our work. It might, after all, be deemed ‘fluffy’.

Deep, inner sigh duly heaved.

Those who know us well will understand that the strategic narratives we create for our clients are not just expressed in words. What makes us quite different from other management consultancies is the tremendous emphasis and importance we place on creativity. Every programme we deliver and every Story we construct carries with it a powerful visual identity that forms the basis of an enduring visual campaign. These visual ‘assets’ are not there simply to provide comms teams with material to link future messages back to the master narrative (although this is of course extremely useful). They are there to help bring a Story to life in a way that words alone rarely do. Creativity lies at the heart of every storytelling programme. It’s the emotional soul that drives it and the lens through which people engage with it.

At its most basic level, the visual treatment of the storytelling programme helps people understand the core message of the Story in a simple and memorable way. A picture can convey complex data simply and instantly. Yet it’s more than just a graphic or visual identity. We spend a good deal of time in identifying a ‘big creative idea’ which encapsulates the single, essential message of the Story and captures the emotion of it, moving the audience to find connections between their own experiences and the organisation’s ambition for the future. Whether through film, animation, illustration or photography, expressed as a metaphor or real-life imagery, the creative campaign provides an emotional heartbeat which gives a narrative legs and inspires people far beyond just a purely rational response.

As for that ‘techy’ audience, it’s a complete myth that creativity has no place in their world. You don’t have to be a ‘creative’ type to appreciate creativity. We routinely watch clients from every type of organisation (accountancy and law firms to telecoms, banking and technology companies included) go through the process of aligning behind a set of words, which can be a cathartic moment in itself. Big tick there. Yet it’s when they see the Story in all its technicoloured glory, perhaps supported by a spine-tingling film, that they really ‘get’ the power of the creativity. It’s emotional. Hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck kind of emotional. We’ve watched grown men cry – individuals who are deeply proud of their work and experience an emotional wake-up call when they realise the significance of the contribution they are making. Yup, even leaders from a pharmaceutical R&D client organisation experienced a few wobbling lips when it all came together. Such is the creative magic that we sprinkle.

I defy anyone who says that telecoms engineers or financial analysts do not point at pictures when reading their toddler a bedtime story. Or remember the images of one of their favourite books as a child.  Or go to the cinema. Or appreciate photography or other types of art. Imagery impacts many cognitive processes in the brain: motor control, attention, perception, planning and memory. Athletes and performing artists are often trained to visualise success before they go out and perform, as it can prime the brain for success and increase states of flow. Yes, a picture, whether mental or tangibly real, can stimulate emotions and feelings which may otherwise lie dormant.

Michael Erard describes brilliantly the use of metaphor (both in words and pictures) and how it can help bring meaning to concepts or complex ideas/messages in a very effective way. We completely subscribe to this at The Storytellers from a design point of view. We think, in fact, that we have a supremely powerful approach, which is highly creative in itself. On the one hand we work hard to ensure that the ‘word content’ of a narrative is rooted in reality to give it maximum credibility (simple, clear, human language, with a rational and emotional flow and no management jargon) and which speaks to people’s actual experiences. The design side, however, gives us licence to up the anti and bring these messages to life, and this is where visual metaphor comes into play. We use it to help land those messages with a massive punch. Call it rocket fuel for the brain if you like.

So, my fellow humans, my deeply visual fellow humans, give creativity some slack. You may find that it’s one of the most powerful and inspirational aspects of communication and engagement in the workplace. And that, my friends, will improve the fortunes of your business.

Gail’s Story

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

This is a very personal story of change which is, er, about as profound as it gets…

I was speaking at a conference last week on the power and influence of storytelling to drive change. In particular, I brought up the subject of how storytelling ignites parts of the brain that release chemicals which stimulate feelings of empathy and emotion.

To make the point, I recounted the time not so long ago when I hailed a black cab in central London. The driver was a big man. So big, in fact, that his head practically touched the roof of the cab.

There was something a bit odd about this particular driver. He was wearing a bright orange ladies’ wig, with full make-up, painted nails, women’s clothes and jewellery. Still very clearly a man, but dressed up as a woman.

Taped to the glass partition that separates driver from passenger was a note: ‘Hi, I’m Gail. I’m going through a gender change at the moment. I’m not doing it for kicks so please don’t make fun of me. Feel free to ask any questions you want.’

I was intrigued, and asked him what kind of a response he’d been gettting from his customers. He explained that he was just months into a two-year programme of living as a woman before he could have the operation. And that I wouldn’t believe the kind of abuse he got on a daily basis, particularly when his passengers had had a couple of drinks. It was awful, he said. Made him feel terrible.

I asked him what made him persevere with the job. After all, driving a cab around London can be dodgy at the best of times.

His answer was simple and clear. He kept going because being a cabbie is what he does. And he put up with all the abuse because he knew how great he was going to feel at the end of the process. He had a very clear purpose and vision of what success would look and feel like, and it was worth pursuing and putting up with the daily struggle he had to endure. All the bumps and hassle along the way were going to be worth it.

I must say I felt very humbled by this man. It was an incredibly personal story of endeavour and pain which sparked a real sense of emotion and empathy on my part. I could imagine the scenarios that he would be going through, and felt very touched. We often tell our clients that stories that involve an element of struggle or endeavour are the stories that inspire trust, support and empathy. In a business context, stories about leaders, colleagues and customers can be used as a kind of Trojan horse to build trust and a desire to support individuals during difficult times of change. Stories spark the imagination and stimulate all sorts of senses: colour, smell, sound, language processing, emotion, empathy…the list goes on. We are particularly receptive to stories, and their power of emotions in changing mindsets should never be underestimated.

What struck me about Gail’s story, however, was the fact that this man had a very clear vision of success, and he was sticking to his route to success despite the obvious pain it caused him along the way. I’ve told this story many times and it teaches us many lessons. I often wonder where Gail is now, and if he feels he’s making progress. Change, eh?

Plato on storytelling

Posted on by Nailia Tasseel

Of all the philosophers in the Western tradition, Plato is amongst the most celebrated.  One twentieth-century academic characterized the rest of Western philosophy as ‘a series of footnotes to Plato’.

Socrates’ erstwhile pupil is also credited with the invention of the university, and his most famous work, The Republic, is – amongst other things – an educator’s handbook.  For Plato, the education of a state’s Guardians – its warrior class – was of fundamental importance. In devising his ideal state in The Republic, education is the first issue he considers.

And what is the first subject Plato addresses on the Guardians’ curriculum?

Storytelling.

No, really.

The Republic is written as a series of dialogues between Socrates and various other men whose only real task is to agree with Socrates or provide the answer he has remorselessly steered them towards.  This is how the education bit gets going:

‘What kind of education shall we give them then?  We shall find it difficult to improve on the time-honoured distinction between the physical training we give to the body and the education we give to the mind and character.
True.
And we shall begin by educating mind and character, shall we not?
Of course.
In this education you would include stories, would you not?
Yes.’

Isn’t that wonderful?  First thing the great philosopher puts on the ideal syllabus: stories. But not just any stories.  Plato turns a little dark at this point:

‘Then it seems that our first business is to supervise the production of stories, and choose only those we think suitable, and reject the rest.  We shall persuade mothers and nurses to tell our chosen stories to their children, and by means of them to mould their minds and characters which are more important than their bodies.  The greater part of the stories current today we shall have to reject’.

Goodness.  Talk about the nanny state.  What kind of objectionable stories does he have in mind?  Mostly legends of gods and heroes, such as those in Homer’s Iliad.  For example:

‘Nor can we consent to regard Achilles as so grasping that he took Agamemnon’s presents, or refused to give up Hector’s body unless he was paid a ransom […] We cannot, in fact, have our citizens believe that Achilles […] was in such a state of inner confusion that he combined in himself the two contrary maladies of ungenerous meanness about money and excessive arrogance to gods and men’.

But it wasn’t only the mythical stuff that worried him:

‘Poets and storytellers are in error in matters of the greatest human importance.  They have said that unjust men are often happy, and just men wretched, that wrongdoing pays if you can avoid being found out, and that justice is what is good for someone else but is to your own disadvantage.  We must forbid them to say this sort of thing, and require their poems and stories to have quite the opposite moral’.

Some readers take a very dim view of all this.  Plato stands accused of fascist censorship and revisionism.  But as storytellers I think we can draw a more positive message from Plato’s intense interest in our craft: he wanted to control storytelling because he understood how very powerful it could be in shaping culture, character and behaviour.

This is what he has to say about those fictional stories that don’t always set their semi-divine heroes in the best light:

‘Moreover such lies are positively harmful.  For those who hear them will be lenient towards their own shortcomings if they believe that this sort of thing is and was always done by the relatives of the gods. If we want our prospective Guardians to believe that quarrelsomeness is one of the worst evils, we must certainly not let them be told the story of the Battle of the Giants or embroider it on robes. We can admit to our state no stories about Hera being tied up by her son, or Hephaestus being flung out of Heaven by his father for trying to help his mother when she was getting a beating’.

That last one has a very modern resonance, doesn’t it?  “What are these brutal video games doing to our children’s minds?” we hear today.  What does it mean that Grand Theft Auto glorifies violence and rape?  Is there a connection between gun violence on screen and in real life?

But it wasn’t just vice that disturbed Plato; he wanted stories to set the right example to his city guardians.  And because good men were supposed to be self-sufficient and not dependent on property or loved ones, they definitely shouldn’t be seen to grieve over their loss:

‘Then we should be quite right to cut out from our poetry lamentations by famous men.  We can give them to the less reputable women characters or to the bad men, so that those whom we say we are bringing up as Guardians of our state will be ashamed to imitate them’.

Real men don’t cry.  Your story had better say as much if you want a job in the ideal state.

So far, Plato has outlawed plenty of story angles.  What would he like to see in their place?  There aren’t many clues in The Republic, but here’s one:

‘When a poet tells or a dramatist presents tales of endurance against odds by famous men, then we must give him an audience’.

It’s not only behaviours that interest Plato.  He also recognises the importance of a positive vision or destination in stories.  Again, he makes his point rather negatively:

‘And will anyone who believes in terrors in the afterlife be without fear of death, and prefer death in battle to defeat in slavery?
No.
It looks, then, as if we shall have to control storytellers on this topic too.  We must ask the poets to stop giving their present gloomy account of the afterlife […] and make them speak more favourably of it.
We must get rid, too, of all those horrifying and frightening names in the underworld – the Rivers of Wailing and Gloom, and the ghosts and corpses, and all other things of this kind whose very names are enough to make everyone who hears them shudder.  They may do well enough for other purposes; but we are afraid that the thrill of terror they cause will make our Guardians more nervous and less tough than they should be’.

Of course, we don’t know what Plato really believed the afterlife to be like, but it seems he was prepared to stretch the truth, as he saw it, in the interests of the state:

‘It will be for the rulers of our city, then, if anyone, to use falsehood in dealing with citizen or enemy for the good of the State; no one else must do so’.

These days, we might encourage a CEO to be optimistic, rather than actually deceitful, in concluding her narrative with a really positive vision of the future.

Plato understood that the more compelling a story, the more powerful its effect.  For those stories that conveyed the wrong moral message, the more compelling they were the more urgently they must be banned:

‘It is not that they are bad poetry or are not popular; indeed the better they are as poetry the more unsuitable they are for the ears of children or men’.

So, in conclusion, one of the greatest philosophers of all time believed storytelling was fundamental to preparing Guardians (leaders) to perform their role in the ideal state (company).  He recognised the key role stories play in shaping cultures, promoting desirable behaviours and inspiring action.

But lest we get too filled with a sense of our own importance, Plato is quick to put us storytellers in our place:

‘My dear Adeimantus, you and I are not engaged on writing stories, but on founding a state.  And the founders of a state, though they must know the type of story the poet must produce, and reject any that do not conform to that type, need not write them themselves’.

We should be grateful: if founders/clients went around writing their own stories, where would we be?