Joe: Most of us think a good idea, especially one that saves lives, will spread like wildfire. The truth is, most great ideas die in silence. Today, we're looking at why, and what it takes to resurrect them. Lewis: That is such a frustrating thought. You invent the cure for something, or a solution to a huge problem, and it just sits on a shelf gathering dust. It feels like it defies all logic. Joe: It really does. And it’s a puzzle that obsessed one of the 20th century's great thinkers. Our whole discussion today comes from a fascinating research article, "Diffusion of Innovations Theory and Work-Site AIDS Programs," by Thomas Backer and the legendary Everett M. Rogers. Lewis: Whoa, Everett Rogers? That’s a name. For anyone who hasn't heard of him, Rogers is the godfather of this field. His book Diffusion of Innovations is basically the bible for how ideas spread, from farming techniques to iPhones. It's wild to see him applying his life's work to something as urgent and terrifying as the AIDS crisis in the 1990s. Joe: Exactly. He and Backer were looking at this massive public health emergency and seeing it through a unique lens. They weren't just asking how to treat the disease; they were asking how to treat corporate indifference. Lewis: A much harder disease to cure, I imagine. Joe: Perhaps. Their investigation starts with a simple but powerful question: what does it really take to get a big, powerful, profit-driven company to care about a public health crisis? The answer, it turns out, is a lot more dramatic than you’d think.

Lewis: Okay, so where do they start? How do you even begin to measure something like 'corporate caring'? Joe: Well, Rogers’ whole theory—Diffusion of Innovations—is about mapping the spread of an idea. He showed that adoption follows a predictable S-shaped curve. A few brave innovators jump on board first, then it’s quiet for a while. Then, if you’re lucky, you hit a tipping point, or what he calls 'critical mass,' and suddenly everyone adopts it. Lewis: Right, it’s like how a meme goes viral. At first, it's just on a few weird corners of the internet, and then suddenly your grandma is sending it to you on Facebook. Joe: That's a perfect analogy. But for something as fraught as an AIDS program in a 1980s workplace, that 'critical mass' is incredibly hard to reach. The article found that great ideas don't just spread because they're great. They need a powerful push. And that push almost always comes from one of two things: a 'tragic event' or a 'champion'. Lewis: A tragic event or a champion. That sounds less like business theory and more like the plot of a movie. Joe: It feels like it. And the best story they tell is about the Digital Equipment Corporation, or DEC. Back in the mid-80s, DEC was a giant, a Fortune 50 company. They had this corporate motto: 'do the right thing.' But that motto was about to be seriously tested. Lewis: I have a feeling I know where this is going. Joe: In 1986, a crisis erupted. DEC had thousands of field service engineers who would go to client sites to fix computers. A major client group was Boston-area hospitals. And the engineers started refusing to go. They were terrified of catching AIDS from patients. There was so much fear and misinformation. They told management, and this quote is chilling, "We just feel different when we’re there." Lewis: Wow. So you have a potential work stoppage on your hands, rooted entirely in fear. That’s a 'tragic event' in the making for the company, for sure. Joe: A huge one. And this is where the 'champion' enters the story. His name was Paul Ross, a personnel manager for the northeast area. He wasn't a CEO or a vice president. He was a mid-level manager dealing with a crisis in his district. Instead of just issuing a memo, he started by holding focus groups with the engineers to actually listen to their fears. Lewis: That already feels like a radical move for a 1980s corporation. Listening? Joe: It was. He realized the problem wasn't just a lack of medical facts; it was what he called an 'epidemic of fear.' So he brought in the Red Cross to run educational programs. It worked. The work stoppage was averted. But Ross didn't stop there. He saw the bigger picture. He started designing more comprehensive programs, adding psychosocial elements to deal with the stigma and irrationality. Lewis: But how does one manager in a regional office turn this into a company-wide initiative for over 100,000 employees? That seems like an impossible jump. Joe: This is the magic of the champion. At the same time, completely separately, a corporate manager named Erline Belton at DEC headquarters was noticing a pattern of young employees getting sick and dying. She formed a task force to look into it. Ross, from his little office, sends Belton a copy of a speech by Elizabeth Taylor about AIDS in the workplace. It connects the dots for her. She realizes Ross has already solved the problem on a small scale. Lewis: So the two champions found each other. Joe: Exactly. Belton, now armed with Ross's success story and her own data, goes to the CEO and the Board. She convinces them not just to create a policy, but to establish the first-ever full-time corporate office for HIV/AIDS in the workplace. And who do you think she picks to run it? Lewis: It had to be Paul Ross. Joe: It was. In 1987, this mid-level manager who just wanted to solve a local problem became the head of a globally acclaimed corporate health program. All because a crisis forced his hand, and he had the courage to champion a solution beyond his job description. Lewis: That's an incredible story. But I have to ask the cynical question. DEC's motto was 'do the right thing,' which is lovely. But a massive work stoppage by their engineers would have cost them a fortune. How much of this was ethics, and how much was just protecting the bottom line? Joe: That's the brilliant part. The theory calls this 'relative advantage.' For an innovation to be adopted, it has to be seen as better than the old way. Ross and Belton were smart. They framed it both ways. They appealed to the company's ethical culture, but they also made it crystal clear that ignoring this would lead to chaos, lawsuits, and lost productivity. The innovation wasn't just humane; it was good business. It had a clear relative advantage over sticking their heads in the sand.

Joe: So, DEC is a classic example of what the article calls a 'Pioneer.' They had no map. They were hacking their way through the jungle with a machete, inventing a program from scratch because they had to. Lewis: And they weren't the only ones, right? The article mentions Levi Strauss. Joe: Right. Levi Strauss was another pioneer, but their story is different. Their champion was at the very top. As early as 1982, when gay employees in their San Francisco headquarters wanted to hand out AIDS literature, the CEO, Robert Haas, didn't just approve it. He physically went down and stood with them at their booth. Lewis: Wow. In 1982? That was an incredibly brave and powerful statement to make. The stigma was immense back then. Joe: It was a massive signal. That top-down support from the ultimate champion meant the program was woven into the company's DNA from the very beginning. It became mandatory for all 36,000 employees. So you have these two pioneer models: DEC's, which was a bottom-up solution sparked by a crisis, and Levi's, which was a top-down initiative driven by ethical leadership. But that raises a question: what happens when there is a map to follow? Lewis: You mean, once people like Paul Ross and Robert Haas have already drawn one? Joe: Precisely. By 1992, the CDC—the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention—had studied these early programs and created its own. It was called 'Business Responds to AIDS,' or BRTA. It was a comprehensive kit, a blueprint for any company that wanted to start a program. They were trying to help the idea reach 'critical mass.' Lewis: Okay, so this is the 'Adopter' phase. Companies that didn't have to invent the wheel. Did it work? Did everyone rush to adopt the CDC's perfect plan? Joe: Not exactly. And the story of American Airlines shows why. In 1993, they had their own 'tragic events,' but of a different kind. They were PR nightmares. First, a flight crew demanded all the pillows and blankets be changed after a group of gay and lesbian passengers deplaned. It hit the news. Then, flight personnel tried to stop a passenger with AIDS from using his IV on board. Another media firestorm. Lewis: Oh, that's brutal. So their trigger wasn't an internal crisis like at DEC, but a public shaming. Joe: A very public one. The company was bleeding credibility. So, what did they do? They didn't invent a program from scratch. They were in crisis mode. They called the Red Cross, and then they turned to the CDC's BRTA program. They needed a credible, government-validated blueprint, and they needed it fast. They adopted the model, created training videos, and put biohazard kits on every plane. Lewis: So in this case, the BRTA program worked perfectly. It was a turnkey solution for a company in trouble. Joe: It was. But here’s the twist. The article points out that even though the BRTA program was well-designed and based on best practices, its overall adoption across the country was incredibly slow. It hadn't reached that viral tipping point. Lewis: But why? If you have a free, expert-designed plan from the CDC to solve a major problem, why wouldn't every company use it? What was in this kit that was so difficult? Was it like IKEA furniture instructions for a public health crisis? Joe: That's a hilarious and surprisingly accurate analogy. One of the key barriers, according to Paul Ross himself, who they interviewed for the study, was its 'complexity.' The kit was so comprehensive, so full of materials, that for a manager with a hundred other things to do, it felt overwhelming. It was a binder-thudding-on-the-desk problem. Lewis: I know that feeling. You get this massive 'solution' and your first thought is, 'I don't have time to even read the table of contents.' Joe: Exactly. Rogers' theory predicts this. One of the five key attributes of a successful innovation is low complexity. The easier it is to understand and use, the faster it spreads. The BRTA program, for all its good intentions, was perceived as too complex by many. It took a PR disaster at American Airlines to give them the motivation to actually open the box and assemble the furniture.

Lewis: Okay, so let me see if I'm getting the big picture here. You can have the most brilliant, scientifically-backed idea in the world—like the CDC's BRTA program—but it’s not enough. Joe: It’s not enough. The research shows that innovation isn't an abstract process. It's a deeply human one. It doesn't spread through logic alone. It spreads through stories, through emotion, through crisis, and through people. Lewis: The champions. Joe: The champions. The Paul Rosses of the world who see a problem and refuse to let it go. The Robert Haases who use their power to send a clear ethical message. Or, in the absence of a champion, you need a crisis so painful—a work stoppage, a PR nightmare—that the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Lewis: It feels like the real lesson here isn't just about corporate health programs in the 90s. It's a universal blueprint for how to make change happen, anywhere. If you have an idea you believe in, you can't just email it to your boss and hope for the best. Joe: You absolutely can't. You have to find a way to reduce its complexity, to show its relative advantage, and most importantly, you have to become its champion. You have to build a coalition, tell a compelling story, and connect it to both the organization's values and its self-interest. Lewis: Or, I guess, wait for a disaster to strike. Which is a much more stressful strategy. Joe: A much more stressful, and often tragic, strategy. The article is a powerful argument for proactive change. It shows that the real innovation wasn't just the AIDS program itself, but the social and political process of getting people to care in the first place. Lewis: That’s a powerful thought. It makes you look around your own life and work differently. It’s not just about having good ideas, but about having the courage to fight for them. Joe: It really is. And it leaves us with a pretty profound question. What are the important 'innovations' in our own lives or workplaces that are currently stuck on a shelf, just waiting for that one champion to step up? Lewis: This is Aibrary, signing off.