Title: The Art of Relevance

Author: Nina Simon

Completed: Oct 2023 (Full list of books)

Overview: I stumbled onto this book when I saw the author promoting her new book on LinkedIn. We met at the ASTC annual conference over a decade ago and I wrote part of an article she got published in an industry magazine, but we hadn’t spoken in years which is how I’d missed when this was published. It is an interesting look at the important of relevance within the museum/science center world mostly told through a series of stories about different projects at cultural institutions. I was reminded how energizing it can be to organize a great event or exhibition at a science center. As I’ve moved into formal education, I miss that. At schools, we recognize the value of relevance, but achieving it within the confines of static curriculum is often challenging. I feel fortunate that Career and Tech Ed (CTE) classes have more flexibility than most classes and look forward for ways to continue incorporating these ideas into classroom experiences.

Highlights:

• we sought, little by little, to understand what mattered to people in our community. To understand how we could replace our locked doors with ones that opened widely to our community and the cultural experiences they sought.
• Relevance is a paradox. It is essential; it gets people to pay attention, to walk in the door, to open their hearts. But it is also meaningless without powerful programming on the other side of the door. If the door doesn’t lead to valuable offerings, if nothing touches peoples’ hearts, interest fades.
• Relevance is only valuable if it opens a door to something valuable. Once I understood the depth of Princes of Surf, I got embarrassed thinking about all the other projects I thought were relevant, doorways I had built for rooms that were hardly more than stage sets. Too often, our work opens doors to shallow, interchangeable rooms. We adorn the entrances with phrases like FUN! or FOR YOU!, but that doesn’t change what’s behind the doors. We lie to ourselves, writing shiny press releases for second-class objects and secondhand stories. The rechewed meat of culture. We tell ourselves that as long as we link our work to people’s interests on the surface, they’ll be rushing for our door. And they may come in the door… but they won’t come back. Doors to dullness are quickly forgotten.
• there are two criteria that make information relevant: 1. How likely that new information is to stimulate a positive cognitive effect—to yield new conclusions that matter to you. 2. How much effort is required to obtain and absorb that new information. The lower the effort, the higher the relevance.
• Too often, we expect people to do the work of manufacturing relevance on their own. They won’t. It’s too much work. Our brains crave efficiency. If it takes too many leaps to get from here to there, relevance goes down. The line need not be straight, but it must be clear, and short.
• Irrelevance can be damaging, especially for organizations with limited resources to attract and engage people. Irrelevance is just as appealing to those of us doing the work as it is to those we seek to reach. Irrelevance is everywhere. It is in every sexy new technology. Every program pursued strictly to fulfill a funder’s interest. Every short-sighted way that we get people’s attention without capturing their imagination.
• There are two kinds of people in the world of relevance: outsiders and insiders.   Insiders are in the room. They know it, love it, protect it. Outsiders don’t know your doors exist. They are uninterested, unsure, unwelcome.   If you want new people to come inside, you need to open new doors—doors that speak to outsiders— and welcome them in.
• To be relevant, we need to cultivate open-hearted insiders. Insiders who are thrilled to welcome in new people. Who are delighted by new experiences. The greatest gift that insiders can give outsiders is to help them build new doors. To say, I want you here—not on my terms, but on yours. I’m excited you think there might be something of value in this room. Let me help you access it.
• In my experience, the institutionally-articulated “needs” of audiences often look suspiciously like the “wants” of the professionals speaking. Professionals want silence in the auditorium, so they say “people need respite from their busy lives.” Priests want parishioners to accept the canon as presented, so they say “people need strong spiritual guidance.” Teachers want students to listen attentively, so they say “kids need to learn this.”
• When I ask what the phrase “don’t give people what they want, give them what they need” means, I am often told that we should not be pandering to people’s expressed desires but presenting them with experiences that challenge them and open up new ways of seeing the world. I agree. It is incredibly valuable for cultural institutions to present experiences that might be surprising, unexpected, or outside participants’ comfort zones. But I don’t typically hear this phrase deployed to argue in favor of a risky program format or an unusual piece of content. I don’t hear this phrase accompanied by evidence-based articulation of “needs” of audiences. Instead, I hear this phrase used to defend traditional formats and content in the face of change. I hear “don’t give people what they want, give them what I want.”
• Recent research in many fields, including education, public health, and public safety, shows that we can be more effective when we focus on assets as well as needs. In asset-based programs, the institution focuses on cultivating and building on people’s strengths instead of filling needs or fixing weaknesses. Instead of penalizing young bullies, asset-based crime prevention programs help assertive children take on leadership roles. Instead of lecturing families about the food pyramid, asset-based nutrition programs encourage families to share their own favorite recipes.
• we’ve gravitated towards a “community first” program planning model. It’s pretty simple. Instead of designing programming and then seeking out audiences for it, we identify communities and then develop or co-create programs that are relevant to their assets, needs, and values. Here’s how we do it: 1. Define the community or communities to whom you wish to be relevant. The more specific the definition, the better. 2. Find representatives of this community—staff, volunteers, visitors, trusted partners—and learn more about their experiences. If you don’t know many people in this community, this is a red flag moment. Don’t assume that programs that are relevant to you or your existing audiences will be relevant to people from other backgrounds. 3. Spend more time in the community to whom you wish to be relevant. Explore their events. Meet their leaders. Get to know their dreams, points of pride, and fears. Share yours, too. 4. Develop collaborations and programs, keeping in mind what you have learned.
• individuals learning about the people who matter most in their lives and then sculpting new doors for them. Any time we personalize something for someone—based on what they want to receive, not what we want to offer—this happens.
• You can elicit someone’s entrance narrative anytime they walk through your doors. This is a simple two-step process. First, find a way to ask the person what brought them in. Then, find a way to affirm and build on their response. You might provide a special recommendation for something to see or do based on their interests. You might seat them in a particular area, help them take a group photo, or invite them to another event.
• These new programs fundamentally altered their institution’s offerings. When communities of interest avoid your programming regardless of your marketing investments, you need to change the room. If people attend once and don’t come back, it’s probably a problem with the experience and not the marketing.
• Every display and artifact had been reconfigured. But, he explained to us, we were not there to cut the ribbon and marvel at the finished product. We were there to critique the installation and to kick off its next transformation. The director said to us: “We are proud of the new installation that we share with you today. But we also know that this is day one of it becoming outdated.”
• The urge to entertain can be a serious distraction from relevance—the kind of irrelevance that makes your work harder to access, not easier. Relevance doesn’t trump compelling—it does something different. The function of relevance is to create a connection between a person and a thing, in a way that might unlock meaning for that person. If you can tell a relevant story first, you are more likely to create an appetite for other compelling information you have to share.
• Some institutions get caught up in chasing trends, arguing: “if people on the street are talking about X, we should be talking about X too.” No. If people on the street are talking about X, the organization should ask: is X something that matters to us, too? Does X belong in our room? And if so, how do we want to address X through the lens of our mission, content, and form?
• at The Tech Museum of Innovation in San Jose, CA. Our mandate was to be the museum of Silicon Valley—not of its material history, but of its pulse of innovation. It was impossible. The exhibits we built were immediately dated. Their physicality, long development timelines, and big budgets dragged them down. They didn’t dance to the thrilling drumbeat of change at the heart of Silicon Valley. They were immutable objects plunked on the sidelines.
• Public advocacy work is good for business as well as for mission: a 2015 IMPACTS study of 48 leading US cultural institutions showed a 98% correlation between visitor perception of “delivering on mission” and financial metrics of success like fundraising ability and financial stability.
• The stronger your core, the more you can reach out with confidence. The more doors you open, the more relevant you will be.