People in creative roles may seem immune to others' input. The authors, who studied populations from toy developers to R&D scientists, say that creative types sometimes react in this way not so much because of ego but, rather, a sense of identity as an artist. The authors explore the particular characteristics of the "artist identity" and suggest four tactics for working with artists: (1) Offer broad suggestions. Artists may see specific, fully formed ideas as attempts to wrest creative control. Plant just the seed of a concept, and you inspire continued engagement. (2) Temper your enthusiasm. If you're too invested in your idea, you may imply that the artist can't contribute much. A dispassionate demeanor works better. (3) Delay decision making. Expect initial resistance, and give the artist ample time to consider your ideas on their merits. (4) Show respect and like-mindedness. Acknowledging an artist's prior thinking and work will reassure him or her that your ideas are not off-base.

The Clarinda Company is struggling and may go under. Its main customer has just pulled out, taking a quarter of the typesetting firm's revenues with it, and David, Clarinda's president, has had to lay off 20% of his workforce. What's more, he's also had to fire Dan, his longtime partner and mentor, for drunkenness. How much of this should David share with the others in his small customer base? He'd like to get their help in selling the firm - but will they all bail if they know just how leaky the ship has become? In R0805A and R0805Z four experts weigh in on this case study, based on the author's real-life entrepreneurial travails, recounted in his recent book, Typo: The Last American Typesetter or How I Made and Lost 4 Million Dollars. Tell all, says Jim Marsh, drawing from his own experience as CEO of a division of Cable & Wireless. By sharing both financial information and a turnaround plan, Marsh gained the trust and support of major customers, who gave his unit a second chance. Don't panic, says Rick Rickertsen, a principal at a private equity firm, and don't necessarily sell the business. Share only what will become common knowledge, ask no favors, and don't mention Dan. Instead, get back on your horse and try to save the company. Don't lie, says British publishing executive Richard Charkin, but don't tell the whole truth, either. Sell, by all means: Tell customers you're looking to refinance the company (selling is a form of refinancing) and invite them to take a stake. Don't tell customers everything, says professor Kimberly D. Elsbach, who has taught Silverman's book in her first-year MBA classes at the University of California, Davis. Elsbach suggests that David is misguidedly inclined to reveal all because he is confusing competency-based trust with interpersonal trust.

The Clarinda Company is struggling and may go under. Its main customer has just pulled out, taking a quarter of the typesetting firm's revenues with it, and David, Clarinda's president, has had to lay off 20% of his workforce. What's more, he's also had to fire Dan, his longtime partner and mentor, for drunkenness. How much of this should David share with the others in his small customer base? He'd like to get their help in selling the firm - but will they all bail if they know just how leaky the ship has become? In R0805A and R0805Z four experts weigh in on this case study, based on the author's real-life entrepreneurial travails, recounted in his recent book, Typo: The Last American Typesetter or How I Made and Lost 4 Million Dollars. Tell all, says Jim Marsh, drawing from his own experience as CEO of a division of Cable & Wireless. By sharing both financial information and a turnaround plan, Marsh gained the trust and support of major customers, who gave his unit a second chance. Don't panic, says Rick Rickertsen, a principal at a private equity firm, and don't necessarily sell the business. Share only what will become common knowledge, ask no favors, and don't mention Dan. Instead, get back on your horse and try to save the company. Don't lie, says British publishing executive Richard Charkin, but don't tell the whole truth, either. Sell, by all means: Tell customers you're looking to refinance the company (selling is a form of refinancing) and invite them to take a stake. Don't tell customers everything, says professor Kimberly D. Elsbach, who has taught Silverman's book in her first-year MBA classes at the University of California, Davis. Elsbach suggests that David is misguidedly inclined to reveal all because he is confusing competency-based trust with interpersonal trust.

Current trends in telecommuting and non-territorial office design have changed what it means to work in an on-site office and, subsequently, have increased the number of functions office design is expected to serve. At the same time, innovations in technology and design provide today's managers more choices than ever when outfitting their offices. Offers a framework of leveraged office design that illustrates how managers can make design choices that both capitalize on the newest innovations in office design and serve the emerging needs of corporate workers. The framework specifically explores three functions of workplace design: instrumental functions, such as improving decision making and inter-group collaboration; symbolic functions, such as affirming individual distinctiveness and group status; and aesthetic functions, such as allowing for desired sensory experiences and promoting a sense of place attachment. This framework illustrates how organizations can capitalize on all three functions through their choices in office decor and layout.

Coming up with creative ideas is easy; selling them to strangers is hard. Entrepreneurs, sales executives, and marketing managers often go to great lengths to demonstrate how their new concepts are practical and profitable--only to be rejected by corporate decision makers who don't seem to understand the value of the ideas. Why does this happen? Having studied Hollywood executives who assess screenplay pitches, the author says the person on the receiving end--the "catcher"--tends to gauge the pitcher's creativity as well as the proposal itself. An impression of the pitcher's ability to come up with workable ideas can quickly and permanently overshadow the catcher's feelings about an idea's worth. To determine whether these observations apply to business settings beyond Hollywood, the author attended product design, marketing, and venture-capital pitch sessions and conducted interviews with executives responsible for judging new ideas. The results in those environments were similar to her observations in Hollywood, she says. Catchers subconsciously categorize successful pitchers as showrunners (smooth and professional), artists (quirky and unpolished), or neophytes (inexperienced and naive). The research also reveals that catchers tend to respond well when they believe they are participating in an idea's development. As Oscar-winning writer, director, and producer Oliver Stone puts it, screenwriters pitching an idea should "pull back and project what he needs onto your idea in order to make the story whole for him." By finding ways to give your catchers a chance to shine, you sell yourself as a likable collaborator.