"My work has to do with overcoming the thoughts with which I have discomfort," he says, explaining how he chooses what to work on and the approach he takes once he starts. "My own understanding or lack of it is enough to begin with. Committee meetings and market research are not part of this process. I don't believe in using such methods to determine what subjects or cities to tackle. Confidence in your own understanding, acceptance of your ignorance, and determination to pursue your interests are the weapons against anxiety."
We asked Wurman to explain his work: his theory of the five different ways information can be organized (abbreviated by the acronym LATCH), his invention of the Access guides, his faith in self-indulgence, his belief that pretense is the single greatest barrier to creativity and innovation, and his conviction that his own ignorance is the biggest competitive advantage he has. Listening to Wurman as we did--to his stories, his opinions, his advice--you start to see differently. You realize how we all take for granted and accept at face value 99% of what makes up the physical world. And you recognize his trick: Richard Wurman takes nothing for granted.
Not ever.
Wurman Out Loud
"Look, most people don't understand anything--just like me. The difference is, I admit it. Hell, I wallow in it. Every bit of work I do starts from not knowing. Is that how you see most people act? Most people look at their desks or turn on their computers or sit in meetings, and just like me, they're confronted with gobs and gobs of data, of information. But they nod their heads and say, 'Yes, this is important, this is good stuff. The person sitting next to me, sitting in the next office down the aisle, they understand it, so I will smile, making believe I understand it, too.'
"Most people 'uh-huh' each other to death. All day, from in the morning at home, to workday lunches, to dinner at night, out loud or to themselves, they say, 'Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh,' making believe they understand a reference to a name, a reference to a fact, the references to knowledge that supposedly make the world coherent. They 'uh-huh' some friend, some teacher, a boss, a peer, when a book or a movie or a magazine article, or a piece of machinery or software or hardware, is discussed. They 'uh-huh' everybody because they were taught when they were young that it's not good to look stupid, that it's not good to say, 'I don't know,' it's not good to ask questions. Instead, the rewards come from acknowledging or answering everything with 'I know.'
"You're supposed to look smart in our society. You're supposed to gain expertise and sell it as the means of moving ahead in your career. You're supposed to focus on what you know how to do and then do it better and better. That's where the rewards are supposed to come from."
SELLING IGNORANCE "When you sell your expertise--whether to a boss, a client, or even a friend--you have a limited repertoire. On the other hand, when you sell your ignorance, when you sell your desire to learn about something, to create and explore and navigate paths to knowledge--when you sell your curiosity--you sell from a bucket that's infinitely deep, that represents an unlimited repertoire.
"My expertise has always been my ignorance--my admission and my acceptance of not knowing. My work comes from questions, not from answers."
ACCESS GUIDES STORY "For example, in 1980 I moved to Los Angeles. I was in a state close to unemployment and in a full state of disorientation. Unable to find my way around, and seeing that L.A. was about to celebrate its bicentennial, I decided to do my own guidebook to access everything I wanted to know about the city for myself. I was completely unable to find a publisher or a distributor for the book. Because of those failures, I was backed into forming my own publishing company and selling the books out of the back of my car.
"After analyzing many guides, I realized that all I really wanted to know was where I was at any moment and what was around me. When you're visiting a city, either you are someplace or you're going someplace. If you are someplace, you want to see what's around you. If you're going someplace, you want to know what you'll pass by. Those wants led to the organization of the book. To describe it in a sentence, one could say I mix up the pieces as they exist in a traditional guidebook and put them next to one another as they exist in the city. The format involves the use of color to categorize text: red for restaurants; black for narrative, museums, and shops; green for parks, gardens, and piers. Each city is divided into areas, with brief entries on the topics listed, organized according to their location and proximity to each other. The books were successful. Access Guides have now been published for about 30 cities.
"Ultimately, the simple difference between my guidebook and others is that mine is the guidebook I'd like to have. Just as my conferences are the kind I'd like to go to. I absolutely trust indulging myself. I trust the fact that I'm a dumb-ass and that if I like something and understand something, probably other people will, too. Maybe they won't, but I still do it for me. Most people don't let themselves do that, because in our society, it's not appropriate to say you're indulgent. That's one of the personality characteristics that are politically incorrect. So you're not allowed to say, 'I indulge myself.' You're not allowed to say, 'I'm terrified because I don't understand.' And at the other extreme, you're not allowed to say, 'I'm confident'--because then people say you're arrogant. So the operative terms that actually allow for the production of creative work--terror, confidence, and indulgence--are no-no's, and they're no-no's from grade one in school."
