How to become innovative: A short and self-indulgent post

When I was a young child, my father was a butcher. He completed an apprenticeship six plus years before I was born and worked in the role for about ten years. Times changed and butcher shops struggled so he changed jobs.

He then worked in something to do with mortgages for a few years. When his and my mother’s marriage broke down, he took custody of me. Being a travelling salesman was no longer an option, so he adapted. As a then single father, he started buying and selling goods at boot sales, auctions, and markets. This meant I’d attend auctions late at night a few times a week with him and get up at 4:30 am on a Saturday and Sunday to setup for a day of trading. It was hard work but there were not a lot of options open to a single father in the 80s.

He studied guides on antiques and their values and developed a reputation as an astute dealer. He tried to instil this in me and my pocket money would come in the form of £2 to spend at the market. Anything I bought would be sold at auction and if I made a profit, that was what I’d have to spend for the week.

I would cherish that £2 and spend hours scrutinising every stall for a bargain. It was a shrewd move by my father. He got me out of his hair for a few hours while also teaching me the value of money. Being a ten year old helped with bartering too and I remember feeling like I’d won the lottery when a Wedgewood plate I had purchased for 50p sold for £16.

When one of the partners from our local auction wanted to retire, my father came up with a structured deal to buy him out. It wasn’t huge sums but it was everything we had. We were living in rented accommodation (probably the sixth of seventh place in five years) that was subsidised by the housing association, so when I say everything, I mean every penny he could muster.

He put his all into turning that auction around. Five days a week he would clear houses for stock and break his back moving furniture. Three seater sofas and wardrobes went on his back and off to the van. Then, on the Saturday he would don the cap of charismatic auctioneer and woo bidders into spending their cash. He built that auction into a business that meant we were okay.

Then eBay started building momentum. My father had learned his lesson and sold the auction at the height of its popularity. Two years later the business folded and is now flats. He opened a car dealership and then became a sheriff (i.e., court appointed bailiff), before passing away from cancer in 2010 aged 51.

Why am I telling you this? I’ve been called innovative a few times recently by different people and it made me reflect on what that means. I have been called this for developing my own programme when the University I was studying at would not buy the software I needed. For developing the first preprint repository in my field and founding an academic society of likeminded people to make it sustainable. If I am innovative it’s because of my father. When you’re getting up at 4:30am on the weekends to stand in the cold on a market stall or stood outside at night at car auctions as a kid, you see the work it takes to survive.

I’m only innovative because I understand the harsh reality that life is, as Darwin said, adapt or die. When you stay on the edge, you spot gaps before others. When you’ve seen the result of inaction, you understand the importance of action. You figure out when to jump so that you are not pushed. I relish the toil that transformation takes.

If I have the ability to think creatively and solve problems, this is why. When you’ve been on the breadline, you see challenges and feel threat in a different way. Everyone has strengths developed through their lived experience though and if this is one of mine, I’ve earned it. Next time someone tells me I’m innovative I’ll think of my father and those valuable lessons he provided. I did not thank him then, in fact it was quite the opposite, but I do now.