Thinking in New Boxes: A New Paradigm for Business Creativity: Summary & Key Insights

When Alan and I talk about 'boxes,' we are not speaking in the language of children's toys or computer hardware. A box is a set of mental models—a configuration of beliefs, assumptions, and expectations that shape the way you see the world. Every decision you make begins inside one of these boxes. In business, boxes appear as market definitions, strategic plans, organizational charts, pricing models, or even unspoken cultural norms. They simplify complexity; they allow you to operate in daily life without being paralyzed by infinite possibilities.

But boxes are, by nature, invisible. Once you have accepted a model as reality, you stop noticing that it is a model. For example, a company that defines itself as 'a manufacturer of film' might treat that box as natural, even obvious—until a newcomer like digital photography shows that the real question was never about film but about how people capture and share images. Kodak's decline was not due to a shortage of intelligence but an allegiance to an outdated box.

In our workshops, we encourage executives to articulate their current boxes explicitly. What business are we really in? What do we assume about customers, competitors, and technology? Often, the mere act of naming these assumptions begins to loosen their grip. You start to see that every box is temporary, a useful representation rather than a fact. Once you see your boxes, you can begin to play with them—to test, rearrange, and eventually replace them.

The power of boxes, then, is double-edged. They are necessary for meaning, but dangerous when mistaken for truth. Creativity in business does not mean living without boxes; it means learning to treat them as tools rather than prisons.

Most organizations succeed precisely because they have built strong boxes—mental frameworks that allow them to repeat success. These boxes codify what worked yesterday and provide clarity for day-to-day decisions. But the more successful a box becomes, the more invisible it grows. Managers begin to assume that the conditions that once proved profitable will continue unchanged. Markets evolve, technologies shift, and the box begins to distort reality rather than clarify it.

Consider the case of a dominant retailer that once flourished under a model of physical expansion and inventory control. That box had served it well, but when e-commerce arrived, it could not imagine customers shopping happily from screens. Its executives were so invested in their box that they ignored early hints of change. They were not lazy—they were loyal to success. The danger was structural, not moral.

To escape these traps, we must cultivate what philosophers call second-order thinking: the ability to reflect on the frameworks themselves rather than merely the data within them. When markets are stable, first-order thinking suffices; when the ground shifts, you need the courage to look at the box itself and ask, 'What if this frame is obsolete?' That is why we insist that creativity always begins with doubt.

At its worst, an outdated box can turn into dogma. Organizations that cling to old paradigms do not just fail to adapt; they actively resist novelty, explaining away inconvenient facts. The antidote to such rigidity lies in adopting a mindset of permanent provisionality—a recognition that every box, however successful now, will one day need renewal.