A few months ago, one of our Value Realization Collaborative program participants, @Amanda Boehm-Garcia, mentioned something that stuck with me (shared with Amanda's permission):
I'm really curious to see how the map comes together. I love the idea of having a tangible thing. Because whenever I talk to people about what we're doing, they're always like, ‘Well, how are you gonna measure that? You can't measure that kind of thing — everybody's different. That's pie in the sky stuff.’ But then I tell them ‘No, no — I have a map at the end’ and they're like ‘What?!’
I'm really thrilled to have that. I hope we can integrate it into our business as usual, where we're always developing questions and creating maps. That we don't do initiatives without doing that — it just becomes ingrained.
The "map" Amanda refers to is an opportunity map — a visual representation of how different people approach the same goal. Unlike traditional audience research that segments people by demographics or psychographics that center the museum, opportunity mapping reveals the mental models people use when pursuing outcomes that matter to them. You can read more here and view an interactive example in Miro if you're curious.
Amanda and her colleagues aren't just learning something new or trying out a different approach — this isn’t a half-day conference workshop or training video that’s forgotten overnight. They're integrating new practices over time and prioritizing evidence in spite of any skepticism they encounter. Don’t underestimate that last part — it takes guts to be among the first to walk out on the dance floor.
Amanda's comment also made me think about how odd that creating more personally resonant experiences that reflect how people think and feel should be viewed as “pie-in-the-sky” at all.
Think about it: Participants in the VRC program are essentially listening to people to understand how they approach a goal so that, in turn, they can create or improve experiences and programs that support those different mental models. That shouldn’t be controversial or weird. Shouldn’t the opposite be true? Shouldn’t we view any museum that isn't doing that as exceptional (and not in a good way)?
Instead of questioning a museum that is cultivating deep understanding of its communities, we should be describing any museum that's still in a "if you build it, they'll come" mindset as living in a distant past where the future of museums was secure. It’s museums that remain focused on traditional interests and expertise that are the ones that will be seen as out of touch with reality.
There's nothing unusual about creating for diverse mental models. Think about all the other places you see more personalized approaches to service and product development adopted.
Financial advisors support clients pursuing financial security: One person lived through a market crash and thinks "I can never trust anything I can't control directly" — leading them toward real estate and tangible assets. Another person thinks "I'd rather have less money but know it's growing steadily with time I can count on results rather than potential." A third person grew up watching their parents argue about money and thinks "I need enough saved so financial stress never damages my relationships." Same goal, completely different emotional drivers and mental frameworks guiding their approaches.
Fitness professionals supporting clients who want to get healthier: One person thinks "I need to feel strong enough to keep up with my kids" and focuses on energy. Another person worries "What if people notice I'm struggling and think I'm weak?" and gravitates toward private, low-visibility approaches. A third person thinks "I'll know I'm succeeding when I can do things I used to do" and measures progress against past capabilities rather than external standards. Each person's trainer understands these nuances is going to be better positioned to articulate the value of their solution and design offerings to address those perspectives.
Other sectors build entire business models around accommodating different approaches to shared goals, yet museums routinely dismiss this level of understanding as impractical. (See also yesterday's post from Sydney Chandler on scarcity vs network thinking.) A successful financial advisor begins with the goal of financial security, not getting people to “engage” with their bank. A successful trainer begins with the goal of healthier living, not just getting sweaty bodies to move around in a gym.
I imagine you thinking, “Okay, but how many financial advisors and personal trainers are making opportunity maps or hosting listening sessions to understand their their customers’ mental models?”
Fair point. I’ll point out that museums are in a rather unique position — unlike financial advisors or doctors or trainers or so many other professions, museums can support a plethora of outcomes. They have the privilege of choosing from among many outcomes — whether social, personal, physical, or intellectual — where so many others have their work cut out for them by comparison. And even so, the same rules apply to other sectors — the more a financial advisor or trainer or airline or landscaping company understands what makes their customers tick, the greater advantage they’ll have.
You get to choose who you’ll be today: The defeated person who throws up their hands in the face of complexity ("Everyone's so different ... why bother?") or the curious individual, like Amanda, who embraces complexity as a challenge and an opportunity.
Assuming you choose the latter, first ask yourself: What outcomes and goals might my museum uniquely help people achieve?
We can help you answer that question through a Baseline Assessment or you can do it on your own. The important thing is to get started because what seems impractical today will be table stakes tomorrow.
— Kyle