Who’s Your Braintrust?

By Matt Green

The stereotype of “the creative” is that of the lone artist, laboring in solitude, then emerging at some point to unveil a masterpiece to a waiting public. The reality, however, is often quite different.

Consider the songwriting partnership of Paul McCartney and John Lennon; the literary sword-sharpening of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and the Inklings; and don’t forget the unexpected genius of Katherine Johnson, Mary Jackson and Dorothy Vaughan, the team of “hidden figures” at NASA who calculated orbital trajectories for America’s nascent space program.

Ed Catmull, cofounder of Pixar, documents the early days of the renowned animation studio in his book Creativity Inc. From an outsider’s perspective, the creative output of Pixar’s early days seems almost miraculous. An obscure computer hardware company dabbles with animation and produces an award-winning sequence of blockbuster films in which a room full of toys comes to life, an ant colony fights a gang of grasshoppers and two monsters overcome their fear of little girls.

Catmull attributes much of Pixar’s success to a group within the company called the Braintrust which gives feedback to directors, storytellers and animators throughout the process of producing a feature film. The Braintrust allows room for individual creativity while recognizing that the best ideas are polished and improved in the context of a trusted community.

“People who take on complicated creative projects become lost at some point in the process,” Catmull writes. “The details converge to obscure the whole, and that makes it difficult to move forward substantially in any one direction. The experience can be overwhelming.”

As the Braintrust gathers to provide feedback on a film, there is a shared understanding that the group has no authority to mandate solutions. Their input is candid, but not cruel.

“Frank talk, spirited debate, laughter, and love. If I could distill a Braintrust meeting down to its most essential ingredients, those four things would surely be among them,” Catmull explains. “The film—not the filmmaker—is under the microscope.”

Granted, not all creative teams function this way—even the ones whose output is aesthetically iconic and economically lucrative. We’ve all heard the stories of recording studio brawls, artistic partnerships that crumble or recurring dysfunction at highly productive companies. But as Christians, shouldn’t the way we create, lead and solve problems be just as important as the results of those efforts?

While it may be impressive to solve problems all on our own, it’s far more beautiful to include others in the journey. To receive and give feedback. To improve our ideas as we incorporate insight from others. Creativity is a team sport—we were designed to work together. We even see echoes of this in the words of the first Creator: “Let us make man in our image. . . .” (Genesis 1:26).