Olivia: Psychologist Jerome Bruner found that facts are 20 times more likely to be remembered if they're part of a story. Twenty times! Jackson: Whoa, hold on. Twenty times? That means almost every bullet-point presentation I've ever sat through was basically designed for me to forget it. It’s like corporate amnesia by design. Olivia: Exactly. And that's the central premise of Lead with a Story by Paul Smith. What's so compelling about Smith is that he's not some academic theorist; he was a director and corporate trainer at Procter & Gamble. He saw firsthand how companies like P&G, Nike, and 3M started banning bullet points and hiring Hollywood directors to teach executives how to tell stories. This isn't a 'nice-to-have' skill anymore; it's a core leadership tool. Jackson: Hiring Hollywood directors? That sounds both extreme and fascinating. So what's the big secret? Why does a story work where a pie chart fails?

Olivia: Well, it gets at something fundamental about how we're wired. A pie chart speaks to the logical, analytical part of our brain. A story speaks to the emotional, experiential part. It creates a simulation in our minds. We don't just hear the information; we feel it. Jackson: A simulation. I like that. It’s like a flight simulator for an idea. Olivia: Precisely. And the best leaders understand this instinctively. Smith tells this incredible story about A.G. Lafley, the legendary CEO of P&G, back in the early 2000s. A nervous employee is about to give his first big presentation to Lafley and the entire Global Leadership Council. He’s practiced for weeks, his slides are perfect, full of data and charts. Jackson: Oh, I know that feeling. The pressure is immense. Olivia: The executives file into this special round room on the executive floor. Lafley comes in, greets everyone, and then does something completely unexpected. He sits down with his back turned to the giant projection screen. Jackson: Wait, with his back to the screen? He can't see the slides. Olivia: He can't. And he never turns around. Not once during the entire 20-minute presentation. The presenter is panicking internally, thinking, "He's not going to understand, he's going to reject my proposal." But he plows through, and at the end, Lafley just nods and says, "I agree with your recommendation. Let's do it." Jackson: That’s a power move, but it makes a profound point. He's signaling that the human connection, the argument, the story you're telling him face-to-face, is infinitely more important than the data dump on the screen behind him. Olivia: That's the lesson the presenter took away. Lafley didn't want to be presented at; he wanted to be engaged in a dialogue, to hear the narrative behind the numbers. He wanted the story. Jackson: Is this just about being memorable, though, or is there something deeper at play? I mean, remembering something is one thing, but being inspired to act on it is another. Olivia: That’s the critical distinction. Data can inform, but stories inspire. A list of facts might make you say, "That's interesting." A good story makes you say, "We have to do something about this." It creates an emotional investment that pure logic rarely can. Think about it: a story about a single person's struggle is often more motivating than a statistic about millions. Jackson: That’s true. It’s why charities show you a picture of one child, not a spreadsheet of regional needs. It makes it personal. Olivia: Exactly. And in a business context, that personal connection is what drives commitment. It’s what makes a team feel like they’re part of a mission, not just executing a series of tasks.

Jackson: Okay, I'm sold on the 'why.' But the 'how' feels intimidating. I'm not a natural storyteller. I can't just spin a yarn in a board meeting. It feels like you either have that magic or you don't. Olivia: And that’s the biggest myth Paul Smith wants to bust. He argues that storytelling isn't an art, it's a craft. It has a structure, and it's a learnable skill. He boils it down to a simple, powerful framework he calls CAR: Context, Action, and Result. Jackson: CAR. Okay, that sounds manageable. Break it down for me. Olivia: It's beautifully simple. Context is setting the stage. Where and when are we? Who is the main character, our hero? What do they want? And what's the obstacle in their way? This is the part most people rush, but it's the most important because it makes the audience care. Jackson: Right, you need to know who you're rooting for and what the stakes are. Olivia: Then comes the Action. This is the journey. What does the hero do to overcome the obstacle? What challenges do they face? What setbacks occur? This is where the struggle happens, and where the tension builds. Jackson: And finally, the Result. The big finish. Olivia: Exactly. What was the outcome? What happened to the hero? And most importantly, what is the lesson we're supposed to learn from this? And why does it matter to us, the audience, right now? Smith has this fantastic story that perfectly illustrates the CAR structure. It’s called "The Jury Room Table." Jackson: I'm intrigued. Lay it on me. Olivia: The Context: In the late 90s, a professor assigns his students a project to improve the jury deliberation process for a local court. Their goal is to make it fairer and more accurate. The obstacle is that no one really knows what factors influence a jury. Jackson: Okay, relatable heroes—eager college students. A noble goal. I'm in. Olivia: The Action: They interview everyone—judges, lawyers, former jurors. They look at demographics, instructions, trial length. Nothing seems to make a big difference. Then, they stumble upon a bizarre finding: the shape of the table in the jury room has a huge impact. Round tables lead to egalitarian discussions. Rectangular tables lead to the person at the head dominating the conversation. They're ecstatic! They've found a simple, cheap solution. Jackson: A-ha! The breakthrough moment. So they tell the judge to get more round tables. Olivia: They present their findings to the chief judge, recommending that all jury rooms be fitted with round or oval tables to promote fairness. And here comes the Result. The judge listens intently, thanks them for their excellent work... and then issues an order to remove all the remaining round and oval tables and replace them with rectangular ones. Jackson: What? Why would he do that? That's the complete opposite of their recommendation! Olivia: Because the students and the judge had two different, unstated objectives. The students wanted to make deliberations fairer. The judge, facing a massive case backlog, wanted to make them faster. A rectangular table, with a dominant foreman, speeds things up. Jackson: Wow. That's a gut punch. So the students failed. Olivia: In their eyes, yes. They felt defeated. But the story itself is a massive success. One of those students now uses that story to teach every new market researcher a crucial lesson: before you start any project, you must be crystal clear on the objective. Experience is the best teacher, but a compelling story is a close second. Jackson: That's a brilliant example because the 'Result' isn't a happy ending. But the lesson is what sticks. The story is like a Trojan horse for the moral. So, with this CAR structure, can anyone just plug in details and create a powerful story?

Olivia: In theory, yes, but the real test is applying it under pressure. That's where we see how stories don't just teach a lesson; they actively shape reality inside a company. They become the real rules. Jackson: What do you mean, the 'real' rules? Companies have policy manuals, codes of conduct... Olivia: And almost no one reads them. Smith argues that an organization's culture isn't defined by what's written in a binder. It's defined by the stories that get told about what happens when someone's actions are tested. He gives these two perfect, contrasting stories about leadership. Jackson: Okay, a leadership showdown. I'm ready. Olivia: Story one is about Charles Revson, the head of Revlon. He had a strict policy that everyone—no exceptions—had to sign a logbook when entering the building. One day, a brand-new receptionist, just a week on the job, sees a man she doesn't recognize walk in and grab the logbook off her desk. She chases after him, saying, "Sir, you can't take that book. I have strict instructions." The man turns, glares at her, and says, "I'm Charles Revson. And you won't have to worry about those instructions tomorrow." Jackson: Ouch. He fired her for following his own rule. That's terrible. Olivia: Exactly. Now, what's the story that spreads through the company that day? It's not "we have a sign-in policy." It's "the rules don't apply to the powerful, and you'll be punished for speaking up." That story defines the culture. Jackson: It creates a culture of fear. Okay, so what's the counter-example? Olivia: The counter-example is Tom Watson, the legendary chairman of IBM. He's approaching a high-security building with a group of his top executives. A young, 19-year-old security guard stops him and says, "Sir, I can't let you in. You don't have your security badge." One of the VPs with Watson starts to hiss at the guard, "Don't you know who this is?!" Jackson: Oh, here we go again. Olivia: But Watson holds up a hand, stops the VP, and turns to the guard. He says, "You're right, son. I don't have my badge." He turns to one of his aides and says, "Go back to the car and get my badge for me." Then he looks at his executives and says, "She's quite right. We make the rules. We keep 'em." Jackson: Wow. So the official policy manual is worthless. The real policy is the story that gets told in the cafeteria. One story creates a culture of fear, the other a culture of integrity. That's incredibly powerful. Olivia: It's everything. One leader's actions, retold as a story, did more to establish a value of accountability than a thousand corporate memos ever could.

Jackson: It’s amazing how these simple, human moments become the operating system for an entire company. It’s not about grand, epic tales. It’s about these small, defining actions. Olivia: Exactly. And that's the ultimate point Smith makes. Leading with a story isn't about being a better presenter or a more entertaining speaker. It's about recognizing that leadership is narrative. You are constantly, whether you realize it or not, creating the story of your team, your project, your company. The only question is whether you're doing it intentionally. Jackson: So the takeaway isn't just 'tell more stories.' It's 'be aware of the stories you're already creating with your actions.' And maybe start by finding one small story—like that 'Jury Room Table'—that teaches a lesson you've been trying to get across for months with no success. Olivia: That's a great challenge. And for our listeners, we'd love to hear from you. What's a story you've heard at work that perfectly defines the culture, for better or for worse? Share it with us on our social channels. We want to hear the tales that are shaping your workplaces. Jackson: I can't wait to read those. This has been eye-opening. It makes you look at every interaction in a new light. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.