Whenever I hear someone defend the use of benchmarks as a starting point for an innovation process, I feel an discomfort that is difficult to explain in a few words. Not because the benchmark is useless or irrelevant, but because it is often treated as something it is not. Instead of reference, turn direction. Instead of input, becomes a mold. E, when this happens, creativity stops being a construction exercise and becomes an exercise in comparison.
The benchmark is born from a seemingly sensible question: what others are doing? The problem is not curiosity, but in the dependence that is created from it. When I start a project by looking outside first, for what already exists, to what has already been validated by the market, I'm accepting, even if implicitly, that the limits of the possible were already drawn by someone before me. This initial gesture shapes all the reasoning that comes later.
The creativity, when genuine, requires a certain degree of discomfort. She is born from the void, of doubt, the lack of ready answers. The benchmark reduces this void. He fills the space with examples, patterns, metrics, formats. Seems to help, but in practice anesthesia. Instead of asking what could be, We start to ask what we can adapt. The difference between one question and another is deeper than it seems.
Over the years, I observed that very benchmark-oriented teams tend to produce competent solutions, well finished, easy to justify in presentations. But they rarely produce anything surprising. Speech is often safe, supported by graphics and cases. The end result is usually correct, functional, predictable. The creativity, in this context, operates within a narrow corridor, delimited by external references that function as invisible walls.
There is a recurring illusion that the benchmark expands the creative repertoire. In theory, the more references, more possibilities. In practice, the effect is usually the opposite. Excessive references generates convergence. Everyone looks at the same examples, mentions the same companies, use the same words. Diversity of thought is lost, replaced by an aesthetic and logic that are repeated from project to project.
This happens because the benchmark carries an implicit hierarchy. It suggests that some solutions are better than others, that certain paths have already been validated, that there is a kind of informal ranking of what works. When I accept this hierarchy without question, I'm outsourcing some of my creative judgment. Instead of deciding based on context, vision and intuition, I decide based on someone else’s legitimacy.
It's not uncommon to see creative processes begin with long benchmark presentations. Slides and slides showing what direct and indirect competitors are doing, how they behave, what resources do they use, which narratives they adopt. The intention is to align the group, create a common starting point. The side effect is excessive alignment. Everyone starts to see the problem from the same perspective.
When it happens, creativity stops being a territory of exploration and becomes an exercise in fine-tuning. Small variations, incremental improvements, one-off optimizations. None of this is, if s & oacute;, negative. The problem arises when this type of incremental innovation is sold as innovation in the strongest sense of the word.. The break, in this scenario, becomes practically impossible.
The benchmark is, by nature, retrospective. He looks at what has already been done, that has already worked in a specific context. Even when the case is recent, he already belongs to the past. By using it as a basis to create something new, I accept a small structural delay. I'm always reacting, never anticipating. Always chasing after a movement that has already happened.
This logic creates a curious paradox. Companies that talk the most about innovation tend to be the ones that rely most on benchmarks. Perhaps because the discourse of innovation carries with it a symbolic risk, while the benchmark offers a sense of security. If anyone has already done, if anyone has already validated, so I'm not alone. This security, however, has a high creative cost.
Creativity requires courage to make mistakes, but it also requires a willingness to appear naive at first. Really new ideas often sound strange, incomplete, difficult to explain. The benchmark alleviates this discomfort, because it offers examples that have already been sieved by the market. The problem is that, by avoiding initial discomfort, we also avoid the possibility of creating something that does not yet have a name.
I realize that, in many cases, the benchmark works as an anticipatory response to fear. Fear of making mistakes, fear of taking risks, fear of defending something that has no clear precedents. By turning to him, We can justify decisions before we even test them. The argument stops being “we believe in this” and becomes “others have already done it”. This exchange seems subtle, but it completely changes the relationship with creation.
Another little discussed effect of the benchmark is the aesthetic and conceptual homogenization. Products, services, campaigns and experiences start to look too similar to each other. Not because there is a universal logic of efficiency, but because everyone is looking at the same frames of reference. The creativity, in this environment, becomes a variation of tone, not language.
When I look at projects that I really admire, I realize that many of them were born from an initial refusal to benchmark. Not in the sense of ignoring the market, but in the sense of temporarily suspending the comparison. Before asking how others solved the problem, these teams asked if the problem was well formulated. This reversal changes everything.
Create without benchmark, at least at the beginning, is accepting uncertainty as part of the process. It’s about relying more on reading the context than on repeating formulas. It is assuming that the past cannot explain the future. This type of stance does not eliminate the risk, but it makes you more aware. Instead of following familiar trails, we open clearings.
I do not advocate the complete elimination of the benchmark. This would be naive and even irresponsible in some contexts.. What I question is the central place it occupies in many creative processes. When the benchmark becomes a mandatory starting point, it stops being a tool and becomes a filter. Anything that doesn't fit into existing references is discarded too soon.
Creativity needs space for the strange, for the unfinished, for what still doesn't look like anything known. O benchmark, when used uncritically, shorten this space. It speeds up decisions, but impoverishes possibilities. Generates rapid consensus, but reduces diversity of thought.
Perhaps the biggest problem with benchmarking as a dominant practice is that it trains us to always look outward., rarely inside. Instead of exploring our own tensions, our contradictions, our unique repertoires, we seek external validation. The creativity, in this movement, loses part of its authorial power.
Innovate, in the deepest sense, requires a willingness to create references, not just follow them. It requires accepting that, for a while, there will be no comparisons possible. That there will be no benchmark slide capable of explaining the choice. This emptiness is uncomfortable, but it is also fertile.
When the benchmark takes up less space, creativity breathes better. She becomes less concerned with appearing correct and more interested in making sense. Less anxious for immediate approval and more committed to building something that doesn’t yet exist. It is in this territory, unstable and imperfect, that innovation stops being incremental and becomes transformative.
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