James Hilton Column: Compromise Can Go Fuck Itself

I’ve just pissed someone off. But that’s not exactly news, is it? Certainly not for anyone who has had the misfortune of working closely with me.

It seems that those who do find themselves in that unenviable position mostly go on the same journey: they’re initially excited, then they have a wobble, then more excitement, then some irritation, then an effort to reconnect, then a blow-up. Same song, different cover versions.

The same words keep cropping up too: ‘robot’, ‘patronising’, ‘arrogant’, ‘stubborn’, ‘sociopath’, ‘cunty’. Well, just for the record, I’m not a sociopath (although if I were I wouldn’t care and would still deny it anyway – ha!), although an assorted collection of therapists, doctors and bits of paper will happily provide you with a more accurate designation if required. But that’s another story for another day. The point of todays story is ‘compromise’.

If you can’t be bothered to read the rest, I’ll summerise it for you now to save you time: compromise can go fuck itself. Enjoy the rest of your day.

AtelierStrange [Hilton’s design company] is young. Very young. Still soiling-its-nappies young. And like all young things it makes mistakes. And equally, like all young things, it’s essentially groping in the dark for a light switch it knows is there but can’t quite locate.

All good fun. But there is also a great deal of positive naivety. This is largely based on the assumption that the lessons of past lives have been learnt and this most recent reincarnation will be all the smarter for them. Ah yes, assumption.

‘Check your assumptions’ was a mantra at AKQA, and a very good one. But there was always one assumption you invariably missed, mainly because it seemed so improbable and so irrelevant as a concern, that you never even considered it. But it was always the one that would get you.

Like standing alone in the middle of a lush, grassy field, with the sun on your face and the birds singing, safe in the knowledge you know what’s going on, only to then be violently mugged by Mr. Blobby.

In other words, a nasty surprise that, if you’d opened your eyes wider, you would’ve seen coming from miles away. My ‘Mr. Blobby’ was an assumption that my perception of the world and what should be in it was understood, shared and subscribed too verbatim by those I worked with.

When I was little I was told about the art of compromise. I was told that it was ‘good’ to compromise, that it would make for an easier life and would make those around me happy. I believed it. So I compromised. Years later I found that I was very unhappy, which really wasn’t meant to be how things were at all.

To quote from Sucker Punch “if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything”. I realised I hadn’t stood up for what I knew to be right. I had compromised too much. The uncomfortable truth was that I had actually done so to such a degree that I second-guessed all my decisions, talked myself out of things and did what I could to make those around me happy. I was afraid of my own beliefs.

This wouldn’t do. And so, with all the zeal and passion of a new convert, I made a vow to never allow myself or my work to be compromised again. Essentially, I became radicalised. Decision became dogma and I adopted a completely militant approach to anything I perceived as oppression or erosion of my prime directive: be the best, be happy.

A desire to be the best is an astonishingly frustrating, and largely unachievable, goal. The benchmark is forever shifting. Your own personal perception of what ‘best’ means is always evolving. Occasionally someone gives you something heavy and shiny to say you are the best, but you’re not really.

You probably feel like it for the 30 seconds you’re on stage, but immediately the achievement is historic and therefore meaningless. Only now matters. Now, and the now’s to come. And so to be the best requires a principal to take you forward, to push you into uncharted waters, risk and discomfort. And so my principal became ‘never compromise’.

Which brings us to today. I’ve upset someone AtelierStrange works with and it’s my fault. It’ll all be ok of course, but it wouldn’t have happened if I’d done a better job of checking my assumptions, communicating them and not agreeing to compromise.

After being accused in the past of being immature and having much to learn about dealing with people, I made an effort to be more accommodating. And so I thought I was being a ‘grown-up’ by talking myself into allowing some flex and ambiguity into ‘never compromise’.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, I can’t pretend I’m not me. The thing inside that actually makes me feel like I want to be sick when I see something that isn’t good enough can’t be suppressed. My inability to apply the filtering of social niceties to my feedback can’t be masked. I tried. But it turns out I’m shit at it. So I expect I’ll be hearing ‘robot’, ‘patronising’, ‘arrogant’ and ‘cunty’ again pretty soon.

A wise man once told me ‘a principle isn’t a principle until it costs you money’. But perhaps ‘money’ should instead be ‘something’. It could be time, or convenience, or even a friend. A principal means you will have to sacrifice something to give it worth.

A principal, in short, is not an easy thing to have. I have learnt my lesson, again, and will from now on just be honest with others and myself when it comes to my inability to compromise. Needless to say, this isn’t going to make for an easy life, but it will help ensure whatever does come out from our little company is exceptional.

People are still going to get upset with me of course, and will no doubt continue to misinterpret a lack of compromise as an insinuation that I feel I am somehow ‘better’ than them. I’m not at all. It’s just that my tolerances are different. They might be the most wonderful of creative diplomats. They might believe creativity is a democracy. I beg to differ.

None of the companies that have influenced my life and work have been democracies. I look around and I see the ideas that inspire the world come from extraordinary individuals who refuse to compromise, who maintain control and who drive teams of exceptional craftspeople to realise remarkable products.

I’ll leave you with this; Ajaz [Ahmed, co-founder of AKQA] wrote it down for me a long time ago and I kept it. It’s classic Jobs, but as with many Jobsisms, it speaks the truth.

“Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your inner voice. Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition; they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”