Have you ever watched a sports broadcast where the camera zooms out so far that the players look like ants? They call it a “fantage point,” which I guess is supposed to offer us an eagle’s view of the action. Instead, what we get is a glorified bug parade—tiny specs moving around in a blur that I can only assume is meant to resemble athletic strategy. Sure, it’s novel. But does anyone actually enjoy watching an entire game from this perspective? Spoiler: no. 

And this, my friends, is exactly what happens when someone gets overly ambitious with product innovation or marketing tinkering. You’ve seen it: some exec, eager to justify their salary, comes in with a “groundbreaking” idea that’s supposed to shake things up. The result? The very people they’re trying to impress end up collectively rolling their eyes, muttering, “Who asked for this?”

It’s like taking something simple, effective, and enjoyable—like watching a game close up—and zooming out to the point where no one knows what’s going on. Yet it happens all the time, especially in the workplace.

Enter the new executive. Armed with fancy degrees and buzzwords, they swoop in like they’re the answer to problems no one knew existed. Suddenly, we’re rebranding the unbrandable, streamlining the unslowable, and sprinkling “synergy” all over the place. It’s all fanfare from the “fantage point”—completely disconnected from the actual fundamentals of what’s happening on the ground. And it’s clear, they’re overcompensating for not truly understanding how the operation works.

The truth is, the best changes don’t come from flashy ideas or grand “eagle-eye” perspectives. They come from people who know the game, who are down in the trenches with the team, understanding the plays. Innovation isn’t always about zooming out until the whole thing looks like an avant-garde experiment in tiny ant-people—it’s often about sticking to what works and tweaking just enough to keep it fresh.

So next time you see a bold new initiative that feels as disconnected as watching a bssketball game from space, just remember: no one asked for that fantage point view. Maybe what they really need is a pair of binoculars. Or better yet, a seat closer to the court.

Let’s keep it real and keep it grounded—before all the innovation turns into one big, useless ant parade.