A funding application on the workbench prompted me for a “vision.” Oh that’s easy, I thought; I’ll write one while the kettle boils.
I sort of did that; and the next day, when I saw the turd I had created, I suddenly realized that I don’t know what a vision is. Actually that’s not true. I know what a personal vision is; and I know what a shared vision is; but I don’t really know what a corporate vision is.
That’s because corporations, in my nonlegal opinion, are not people; they are abstractions. They exist only when you’re using or talking about them, whereas a real human being, or a group of folks, just exists. So how can an abstraction have a vision?
Stumped and stymied by this weighty question, I did what everybody does these days instead of praying: I googled it. Lo and behold as usual, Google answered with delightful speed and precision (which rarely happens with my prayers). It linked me to an article from down under, the other side of the world, where day is night; an article that explains – not how an abstraction can have a vision – but what that vision should be like. It was now time to set aside philosophy and (re)write the damn vision of Humaginarium.
I normally don’t share external links in this blog, but because this one is particularly useful and may save other entrepreneurs some time, I am inserting it here. You may read it if you wish; if you do, it may help you answer the question at the bottom of this page.
So then, drum roll please. The vision of Humaginarium is: Popular video game entertainment that inspires regular folks to master chronic illness.
Romantics like me expect visions to be exciting, even breathtaking, like Elon Musk making a crazy announcement or Steve Jobs throwing down the gauntlet. That comes from the notion that a vision statement is a coming attraction, but according to the experts down under, it is not. It’s not a call to arms, not an expedition to the Misty Mountains, not something you run up the flagpole and salute. It’s humbler than that. A vision is a very, very short description of what will be different in the world when the work is done and the dream has come true.
Popular video game entertainment that inspires regular folks to master chronic illness. My vision statement is appropriately short and it does sound matter of fact. Nonetheless it’s aspirational. I shall explain.
The word “popular” in it means accessible, affordable, convenient, easy to use and much loved: different from all past and conventional health promotions. If Humaginarium makes health literacy cool, it will be f***ing amazing.
“Video game entertainment” is our flagship product; not the only thing we make, but the main thing. Why? Because our addressable market of 100 million consumers who like video games and have a chronic illness may flock to Humaginarium if it’s really fun to play. A few hundred may come if it’s merely edifying.
Our work “inspires” by awakening ambition and self-determination. These conative attributes are supportive of self-efficacy (the pillar of our brand). I say “conative” with trepidation because, though the word is older than the English language and is just as meaningful as “cognitive” and “behavioral,” I have never uttered it in mixed company without being asked, “What’s that?” I’ll save you a trip to the dictionary with this handy definition of conation: the mental faculty of purpose, desire, or will to perform an action. Inspiring!
“Regular folks” are the kinds of consumers we serve. I borrowed the phrase “regular folks” from Chris Anderson (the futurist and writer, not the TED founder). He uses it when referring to people who are not differentiated by affluence or education. Regular folks is pretty much everybody I meet who is not pretending to be somebody different.
These folks “master chronic illness” by means of understanding and asserting control over it – in our games and in their lives. The chronic illness may be one they have or one they risk; both kinds of threats are mitigated by health literacy that is generated by Humaginarium.
So what do you think. “Popular video game entertainment that inspires regular folks to master chronic illness.” Good enough?