Taking measured action over and over is decidedly unsexy. Especially given it runs counter to the more common ‘splashy launch’ mindset. Yet, when I encountered the idea laid out a decade apart by two authors, it seemed like both an antidote and a helpful way to think about achieving a brand that sticks.
In his 2011 book Great by Choice, Jim Collins talks about “the 20 Mile March“. More recently, Greg McKeown captured a similar idea in his book Effortless, calling for an “upper bounds”.
Introducing the idea, both authors tell the story of Scott and Amundsen’s 1911 race to the South Pole. Amundsen ultimately prevailed, moving at a regular pace regardless of the conditions. Blizzards, sunshine and gale-force wind he ploughed on at 15-20 miles per day. Scott was less constant, some days making herculean gains only to spend the following week exhausted in a tent waiting for better weather. His entire team perished on the return leg.
In our do or die and done world, the belief that a planned, moderated effort executed over and over will win is downright heretical. So, of course, I love it. The simple, common idea is that a consistent, steady effort beats pushing for an extra mile.
From Effortless,
“When we try to make too much progress on a goal or project right out of the gate, we can get trapped in a vicious cycle. We get tired, so then we take a break, but then we think we have to make up for the time lost, so we sprint again … Luckily, there is an alternative. We can find the effortless pace. The upside of upper bounds.”
Talking about a friend who was writing a book about her songs, McKeown continues, “she would write about two songs a week, so it was manageable, and when those two stories were finished, she would stop work for the week even if she had the energy and appetite to write more.”
A decade earlier, Collins first captured the idea as the 20 Mile March. He writes, “Imagine you’re standing with your feet in the Pacific Ocean in San Diego, California, looking inland. You’re about to embark on a three-thousand-mile walk from San Diego to the tip of Maine. On the first day, you march 20 miles, making it out of town. On the second day, you march 20 miles. And again, on the third day, you march 20 miles …”
Collins continues, “Having a clear 20 Mile March focuses the mind; because everyone on the team knows the markers and their importance, they can stay on track. … Most everything is ultimately out of your control. But when you 20 Mile March, you have a tangible point of focus that keeps you and your team moving forward, despite confusion, uncertainty, and even chaos.”
The beauty of the idea is it can drive overall effort towards a big goal such as ‘reach the south pole’. Or sit comfortably within projects and propel shorter-term outcomes.
When it comes to adding value to your brand, finding a 20 Mile March / upper bounds to keep you on track, might be just the thing to offset organisation’s endless boom and bust cycle.
Ultimately the secret is it forces a choice. It’s one thing, but the benefit cascades well beyond the set limit.
Think about a 20 Mile March / upper bounds as: x thing, done y times per z period.
For Amundsen, it was to trek 15 to 20 miles per day. Other examples in Collins’ book include a school whose march was “individual student achievement in basic skills”. Others, such as insurance companies, software makers, and airlines, also marched their version of 20 miles.
Articulated as what you intend, the 20 Mile March / upper bounds is a promise the organisation makes to itself, a kind of perpetual vow. And makes it a direct line to brand, which accumulates or erodes value as a result of not only what your promises are, but how you keep them.
To read more about 20 Mile March, see chapter 3 in Great by Choice by Jim Collins, and upper bounds, see chapter 10 in Effortless by Greg McKeown.
See you next time.