Deviants, Inc.

In 1951, with the introduction of UNIVAC, the first true commercial computer, computing made the leap into the Next Big Thing. Prior to UNIVAC, computers existed apart from the mainstream world. They were toys that only military strategists and scientific wizards could play with. After UNIVAC, however, the application and the future of computing were undeniable, even though the market for computing machines was still limited.

In its last stage, as the devox arrives triumphantly at the center of Social Convention, one and all join in celebrating its inevitability and ubiquity. The media close ranks and mandate the adoption of the devox as the accepted social standard. Think of the difference in the way that the media covered the earliest version of the ARPANet in 1969 compared with the dizzying dash in the early 1990s to be the first company in a given industry to have its very own Web site and email address. At this stage, the devox has achieved its largest market and its greatest commercial potential. The original deviant has either been co-opted or eliminated, the authenticity of his concept is at its lowest point, and the triumph of the devox as a mass-market phenomenon is complete.

Today, tattoos are an essential part of the formal uniform of any self-respecting, pampered, suburban youth intent on demonstrating her individualism. These days, every male athlete worthy of the name carries a storyboard of ink on his body. Rock stars are known by their tattoos, and even corporate chieftains proudly ink themselves, tattooing the logo of their brand into their skin as a permanent statement of brand loyalty. In the realm of rock and roll, both Big Mama Thornton and Elvis have boogied their way to that great Heartbreak Hotel in the sky -- only to be replaced by the rockers of Social Convention: 'N Sync, the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears (whose porno-saccharine presence is frighteningly ubiquitous), and a legion of such "classic rockers" as the Rolling Stones, who are more likely to bounce grandchildren on their knees then to pose as street-fighting men. And as for computing? Today, it's as conventional as electricity or telephony -- and, increasingly, just as exciting.

Anywhere you look, you will see the same pattern. It could be film, food, or fashion. It could be magazines, music, or medicine. It could be wellness, fitness, or any other form of hipness. Deviance and the flight of the devox tells the story of every mass market ever created. What starts out as weird and dangerous morphs until it becomes a safe haven for America's latest corporate payday. You see it more and more: A clip from Easy Rider -- that 1960s love song to outlaw biking, counterculture, casual sex, and selling cocaine -- is now being used to hawk Diners Club. "I Put a Spell on You" -- a song released in 1956 by Screamin' Jay Hawkins, a singer once rumored to be a cannibal, who wore a bone through his nose to match the one in his necklace and who would begin his act by rising out of a coffin -- is now a jingle used to push Pringles, the most sanitized, processed, and standardized potato chip in history.

Deviants are the source of innovation. The path of the devox is predictable, its impact measurable. Deviance ought to be a big business. And it would be, if it weren't for one thing: culture. All business problems are, in fact, cultural problems.

The Deviant's Disadvantage

Culture poses two opposing problems for deviants: First, mass culture is continually birthing new opportunities. The fact is, mass culture loves the devox. Second, in one American company after another, corporate culture serves as an organizational prophylactic, protecting business-as-usual businesses from new opportunities. In truth, corporate culture hates the devox. Corporate culture works to eliminate deviant employees. Corporate culture works to discourage deviant ideas. Corporate culture punishes deviant behavior and attitudes. And, of course, as a result, most large companies lose the opportunity to discover the future and get there first.

Companies are stuck in a puzzling -- no, a deeply disturbing -- syllogism that they are unable to work out: All innovation springs from deviance. Innovation is good. But somehow, deviance always ends up being bad. As a consequence, established businesses tend to feel caught between their addictive thirst for breakthrough offerings and their visceral fear and hatred of anyone who refuses to parrot the party line.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Deviance and order can not only find a way to coexist but in fact are also profoundly codependent -- a lesson that business and business leaders could learn from a quick study of nature.