For a long time, I thought original ideas were supposed to arrive like lightning bolts.
Something brand new.
Something no one else had thought of.
Something so clear that everyone would see it right away.
Years ago, I took a marketing class in college.
We were assigned a group project: come up with an original idea to help elevate a brand.
My group chose Starbucks.
At the time, the problem felt obvious to us.
The lines were always long.
People were busy, but willing to wait 20 minutes for a five-dollar cup of coffee.
And everybody started to use their phones for everything.
So, we came up with an idea.
What if Starbucks had an app?
You could download it to your phone.
You could order your drink before you got there.
You could skip the long line.
You could earn points every time you bought something.
To us, it made perfect sense.
It solved a real problem.
It created convenience.
It rewarded loyalty.
We thought we had nailed it.
Our professor did not agree.
He told us no one would ever use an app to order coffee.
He graded our paper down because of it.
At the time, I remember thinking, “Maybe he’s right.”
Maybe the idea was too unrealistic.
Maybe we were reaching.
Maybe we missed something obvious.
Years later, Starbucks became known for exactly that kind of convenience.
Mobile ordering.
Rewards.
Points.
Skipping the line.
Ordering ahead from your phone.
When’s the last time you actually went to the counter to order your Starbucks?
It’s second nature now.
Do I think Starbucks somehow caught wind of our college project and stole the idea?
No.
That would be ridiculous.
But that experience stuck with me. It taught me something I have carried into leadership, business, and life.
Originality is overrated.
Timing, execution, belief, and being persistent are what make an idea real.
At the time, I thought the idea was original.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it wasn’t.
That part matters less to me now.
What matters is that one person looked at the idea from one angle and decided it would not work.
And because that person had authority, their opinion carried weight.
That is where a lot of good ideas die.
Not because they are bad.
Not because they are impossible.
But because they are judged too quickly by too few people.
One perspective is not enough.
One opinion is not the whole truth.
One person saying “that will never work” does not make the idea worthless.
Sometimes it means the idea needs refinement.
Sometimes it means the timing is off.
Sometimes it means you are explaining it to the wrong audience.
And sometimes the other person just cannot see what you see yet.
Over time, I stopped believing I need to have every answer.
I can’t see every angle.
I can’t catch every blind spot.
I can’t understand every customer, obstacle, or opportunity through my perspective alone.
No one can.
That is why collaboration matters.
Not the performative kind, where leaders ask for input after they have already made up their minds.
Real collaboration.
The kind where people are allowed to challenge the idea.
Improve it.
Question it.
Pressure test it.
Look at it from a different angle.
Because people are built differently.
They think differently.
They notice different things.
They bring different experiences, instincts, and concerns.
And when you are willing to listen, the idea gets better.
That does not mean every idea is good.
Some ideas are bad.
Some ideas are poorly timed.
Some need to be torn apart and rebuilt before they are worth anything.
But dismissing an idea too quickly is shortsighted.
The better question is not, “Will this work?”
The better question is, “What would make this idea stronger?”
That question opens the door.
It invites curiosity.
It pushes people to think beyond what already exists.
And sometimes, that is where the best ideas live.
Not in being original.
Not in being right immediately.
But in being willing to look again.
From another angle.
With another perspective.
With enough belief to keep going and enough humility to make the idea better.
Because the future almost always sounds unrealistic until we’re living it.
— CC