Companies looking for new sources of creative energy might want to look backward—to the productive rivalry that catalyzed much of the artistic innovation during the Italian Renaissance.
Business leaders tend to raise their eyebrows when they read about parallels between history and modern management—and for good reason. There are undoubtedly many people who offer better leadership lessons than Attila the Hun, and it is unclear whether Alexander the Great can tell us much about business strategy. So it’s with some trepidation that we set forth the premise of this article: that the Italian Renaissance was such an extraordinary period of creativity it can shed light on how to stimulate business innovation.
We’re quite conscious of other great eras of innovation—the 18th-century industrial revolution in Great Britain, the late-19th-century emergence of managerial capitalism in the United States, and even the present period of digital innovation. One thing that’s striking about the Renaissance, though, is that it took place on a scale not very different from that of many large, modern enterprises. Northern Italy is no larger than the state of Michigan, and at the beginning of the 15th century, the three great centers of Renaissance creativity—Rome, Florence, and Venice—had a combined population of roughly 200,000.1
The ability of a population and region of this size to generate creative output—ranging from the world’s largest masonry dome to linear perspective, modern-day portrait painting, technical breakthroughs in glassblowing and bronze casting, the italic type of the Aldine Press, sfumato and chiaroscuro, and the designs in Leonardo’s sketchbooks—makes it, in our opinion, intriguing for innovation-minded leaders. What’s more, there are some uncanny parallels between what went on during the Renaissance and principles that have proven their worth in R&D organizations—such as collision between diverse experts, providing loose guidelines, and establishing stretch goals.
Less in line with mainstream R&D practices: the degree to which Renaissance creativity was built on professional rivalries—like the ones between Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and Titian—that are commonly viewed as some of the most productive in history. It may be that by overlooking the potential of rivalry, modern R&D organizations are missing an opportunity to promote ground-breaking innovation.
Some of the practices that made the Renaissance such a creative period have already been largely integrated into today’s R&D labs.
Consider, for example, the popular notion that constant collision between engineers, scientists, and managers will lead to better collaboration and ultimately yield the best ideas. The classic manifestation of collision is the multidisciplinary corporate R&D lab, where innovators of different stripes are gathered together in a single research facility. Among the most famous of these facilities are IBM’s Watson Research Center, HP Labs, Bell Labs, and GE’s Global Research Center. Virtual spaces, if built correctly, can also be effective for encouraging collision. Take the example of Tata’s Innoverse hub. This portal serves as a virtual innovation forum where employees from across Tata’s business units can post ideas, comment on them, and then vote on the ones they like the best. In one year it gathered 12,000 ideas, on topics ranging from R&D to management and strategy, several hundred of which have been turned into projects or implemented through operational reforms.2
The concept of collision resonates with the creative energy of the Renaissance. Italy at the time was one of the most urban regions of Europe, and, although small by modern standards, the cities were densely packed centers teeming with painters, craftsmen, and sculptors.3 Rome, for example, attracted flocks of artists from throughout Italy seeking the patronage of the Vatican. The relatively small urban space forced them into frequent and often intense interactions with each other. Artists benefited from the diversity of the colleagues around them, and the high rates of collision with these peers allowed them to learn from each other, exchange ideas and techniques, and build off each others’ diverse accomplishments.
Many of the world’s greatest inventions have been stumbled on by mistake. Smart R&D managers recognize this and allow their researchers to turn mistaken or unexpected findings into new lines of research, products, or technologies. Recently, there has been much discussion of Google’s policy that allows researchers to spend time on their own ideas, projects, or personal development. It’s not a new idea. 3M has long allowed its employees to spend 15 percent of their time on projects of their own choosing.4 Similarly, at Tata Consultancy Services, each employee receives 5 hours of a 45-hour work week for personal projects.5
The Renaissance equivalent of setting R&D guidelines was the commission—say, for a painting or piece of architecture. These contracts would stipulate a subject to be painted, who would paint which parts of the work, the dimensions and medium of the painting, the timeline, and the amount of money to be paid. Although at times these contracts could be quite specific, during the Renaissance, artists’ prominence in society increased, so that they increasingly could negotiate contracts that allowed for creative interpretation and stylistic flexibility.
Michelangelo’s painting of the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling is a fine example of how an artist’s higher social position translated into greater negotiating leverage with patrons. In 1506, Pope Julius II decided to complete the painting of the interior of the chapel (the walls had been painted 20 years earlier) with a grandiose fresco across the entire ceiling. He went to Michelangelo, who was well known as a sculptor (though not much as a painter), and asked him to take on the job. Only after some cajoling did Michelangelo agree. In the initial contract, the Pope proposed a scheme of 12 enormous figures of the Apostles. Michelangelo convinced the Pope to agree to a much grander subject that documented humanity’s need for salvation. Michelangelo later bragged that he had gotten the Pope to allow him “to do as I liked.”6 The artist’s ability to negotiate for flexibility contributed to the remarkable creation that is the Sistine Chapel ceiling.
Smart companies establish practices and programs that encourage innovators to “shoot for the stars.” Consider, for example, Royal Dutch/Shell’s GameChanger program, which is designed to seek out and fund good ideas that have a low chance of coming to fruition but could have a profoundly positive effect on Shell’s business. GameChanger teams in each of Shell’s business units vet, select, and then support ideas as they are developed. Ideas can come from within the company or from outside innovators, although Shell retains the intellectual-property rights to any designs or products that might be generated. The company devotes 10 percent of its innovation budget to the program, which generates fully 30 percent of Shell’s R&D projects. By recognizing the power of good but far-fetched ideas, Shell has reaped the benefits of a number of new technologies that few thought were possible to achieve.
Similarly, the masters of the Renaissance were constantly setting themselves artistic and engineering goals that were beyond reasonable reach. When Brunelleschi arrived in Rome, he set to work studying the remarkable architectural masterpiece that is the Roman Pantheon. The structure’s dome, in particular, fascinated him: he was awestruck by the sheer amount of space that it covered and puzzled over how such a feat of engineering had been achieved. Then the city of Florence began construction of its now-famous Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore (more commonly known as the Duomo) and in 1419 sought an architect to build a dome to cover the massive, 42-meter-wide space above the church’s chancel. Such a vast space had not been capped with a dome since the Pantheon’s construction, in ancient times.
Brunelleschi won the commission. To overcome this extraordinary architectural challenge, he developed a number of engineering techniques and construction practices. His final design entailed a double-shelled brick dome, with no external buttressing, that rested directly on the church’s drum. To complete the design, he invented a unique system of hoists, basing the technology on what he had read the Romans used to construct the Pantheon. His masterpiece defied precedent on innumerable levels: it was the first octagonal dome in history, the first dome to be built without a wooden supporting frame, the largest dome in existence at the time, and is still the largest masonry dome in the world. By drawing on the past and innovating beyond it, Brunelleschi was able to achieve what many had deemed impossible.
Despite these parallels, there is one important Renaissance innovation practice that rarely figures in today’s R&D labs—the use of rivalry. It is difficult to overstate the extent to which the Renaissance was built on the professional rivalries of its major figures. While these men generally held each other in deep respect and esteem, they also competed passionately against each other for commissions, recognition, and prestige. Competition can sometimes yield petulance and destructive energy. But rivalry during the Renaissance seems to have contributed to a competitive culture that bred creativity and innovation. Artists were rivals—but they were also colleagues and frequently friends. To compete, they borrowed from one another, drawing on the techniques and innovations that they most admired from their peers.
Rivalry can mean outright competition—a zero-sum contest in which two individuals or teams go head-to-head and one is declared the winner at the expense of the other. But in the Renaissance, rivalry was linked to a second notion, called paragone.7 In direct translation, paragone means “comparison.” During the Renaissance, it implied the placing of two artists, or their individual works, side by side in order to judge them, weigh them, distinguish them, and critique them. With paragone, two equal rivals were compared and celebrated for their relative achievements. Comparing two or more works in this way did not diminish one at the expense of the other. In fact, artists were sometimes commissioned to work on similar projects simultaneously, with each one presenting a subject in his own unique and brilliant way.
An integral part of the philosophy of paragone was the belief that such direct comparison could motivate artists to greater feats. For example, in 1515 the young Raphael was commissioned by Pope Leo X to design ten tapestries for the lower walls of the Sistine Chapel. Knowing they would hang directly below the ceiling painted by Michelangelo, Raphael pushed himself to new heights of creative brilliance.8
There are few examples of companies that embrace anything approaching paragone in their R&D labs. To be sure, some companies hold innovation competitions, such as Tata Group’s recent Innovista challenge, which generated 1,700 innovative ideas from across the company. But these one-time contests do not really replicate the kind of productive artistic rivalry that made the Renaissance so creative. Moreover, competition is generally discouraged in the business literature on innovation. Management experts prefer to talk about cooperation and collaboration within R&D centers rather than competition and rivalry.
But rivalry does not necessarily preclude collaboration; we believe R&D managers should be seeking to integrate the two more deeply—in short, to implement a modern form of paragone. The best way to do so is to set two or more teams working on the same project at the same time. Again, this isn’t a new idea: recall the famous competition between the System 360 mainframe computer and the 8000 series at IBM during the early 1960s.9 And as Mark Little, director of General Electric’s Global Research Group, explains in the article that follows (see “Competition and collaboration in General Electric's Global Research Group”), his company makes extensive, though understated, use of competition. What we are suggesting is that the idea of competition—specifically, paragone—should be a part of more companies’ regular R&D processes. This may sound costly, but assigning several teams to tackle the same problem is not necessarily unproductive or inefficient if it leads to better solutions. Here are three principles for executives interested in harnessing the power of paragone:
Whatever the judgment mechanism, there is good reason to believe that having two or more teams working on a given project can have a strong motivational impact. A friendly and healthy degree of rivalry will spur teams to think deeper and harder about a given problem, leading to new levels of creativity. As long as this spirit of rivalry is managed effectively, R&D teams will push themselves further just knowing that their proposals will ultimately be held up in comparison to others.
All that said, we are realistic about the challenges associated with rivalry. Even during the Renaissance, some rivalries grew out of control and at times led to duels, imprisonments, and murders. We have no doubt that poorly managed rivalry could devolve into the kind of destructive competitiveness that R&D managers try to avoid, stifling the exchange of ideas and undermining collaboration. Strong management, though, should be able to ensure that competition does not create bitterness, promote discord, or cause individuals to feel threatened or defensive.
Most important, a company must supplement the implementation of paragone with a deep and pervasive culture of cooperation and collective achievement. The Renaissance masters knew that their greatest achievements were probably those that they would accomplish collectively. They wanted nothing less than to define a new age of art, culture, and civilization—and they were never going to do this alone. Likewise, a great company will make sure its innovators understand that its most lasting breakthroughs and achievements are the product of a collective effort—and will celebrate and reward all who participate.
Without knowing it, the world’s most creative companies have fruitfully embraced many practices that made the Renaissance uniquely creative. Executives who want to push their R&D teams to greater heights might consider drawing from the Renaissance philosophy of paragone. Harnessing the creative energy of productive rivalry should yield more, and more valuable, business innovation.
Putting it into practice
Mark Little, the head of GE’s Global Research Group, offers a commentary on this article that describes how his company uses rivalry to stimulate innovation without disrupting a culture of collaboration.
Bernard Ferrari is an alumnus of McKinsey’s Los Angeles and New York offices, where he was a director; he is currently the chairman of Ferrari Consultancy. Jessica Goethals is a PhD candidate in Italian Studies at New York University.