The chief caveman assigned Munska, the renowned cave artist, the task of creating another masterpiece.
“Do justice to our tribe. Document our great hunting prowess so that the contributions of our men to our great tribe can be remembered for ages to come.”
“Okay, but what do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know; you’re the artist, you know better.”
Munska went to work. Using a combination of the techniques he was renowned for, he spent days drawing, engraving, carving — the way he always did, the way that had earned him his reputation. Pleased with the outcome, he brought the chief to see his masterpiece.
“No, it’s not there yet.”
“What do you mean? Here’s our amazing people hunting deer to feed our tribe. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“No! I said GREAT hunting prowess, and our BRAVE men.”
“Fair enough, I missed the keyword GREAT, but you didn’t say BRAVE. It’s alright, I’ll fix it.”
A few weeks later, the chief came back to inspect the work-in-progress.
He was visibly annoyed.
“Don’t you get the brief? Great hunting prowess by our brave men. That’s what I said.”
“What do you mean? They’re now hunting lions. That’s brave!”
“No! That’s not great! I want elephants, big elephants! You must be really brave to face big elephants! You’re the expert in cave art, you should have that domain knowledge to know hunting elephants is far more difficult than lions!”
“I disagree. Hunting lions is more difficult. OK, fine, don’t chop my head off. You’re the chief; I’ll change the lions to elephants.”
A few weeks passed. The chief returned.
He walked slowly around the cave, saying nothing for a long moment.
“Hmm. This looks great.”
Munska exhaled for the first time in weeks.
“Can we consider this done? I have another project to move on to.”
“No, wait.”
A pause.
“I’ve changed my mind. We don’t eat elephants. Deer are more important — they reflect a better CONTRIBUTION to our tribe in terms of food and, hence, the economic development of the tribe. Elephant tusks are just for pride and ego. Can we go back to the original version? Hunting deer?”
Munska stared at the wall.
“But SIR, I’ve already merged all the deer and engraved a big elephant because of your request. How do I change them back to deer?”
“I don’t know. You’re the expert, figure it out.”
One brief, three interpretations.
One client. One artist.
The cave wall doesn’t care who was right. It just holds whatever was carved into it last.
Sounds familiar?
(Inspired by a breakfast conversation with Kunal Anand)
