Most strategy is bullsh*t. The great ones use the same methods to drive extraordinary value.

So what are the methods, and what the hell is strategy anyway?

People don’t buy strategy. They buy stories.

Stories give us something to believe in. They show us where to go, who to follow, and how to solve problems that matter.

Most strategy doesn’t tell a story. It doesn’t even try.
Because the person writing it hadn’t figured out what the hell they wanted to say in the first place.

So what do you get instead?
Bloated decks. Bullet-point bingo. Diagrams trying way too hard to sound smart.
You sit through it, pretending to pay attention, while your brain quietly whispers:
“WTF is this crap?”

The answer?
Nothing. Because there’s no real point. No direction. No story.

That’s why most strategy is bullsh*t.

But here’s the real danger:
Bad strategy confuses people. And people hate being confused.

Tim Denning told me the other day that he hates strategy.
I don’t think he hates strategy.
I think he hates the fog it’s usually wrapped in.

Real strategy?
It’s clear. It’s simple. It tells you what to do — and what not to do.

It gives your team a quest to rally around.
A reason to exist that isn’t just “make more money” or “drive efficiencies.”
Something they can believe in — and fight for.

OK. So most strategy is bullsh*t.
But great strategy? That’s a serious competitive advantage.

So what the hell is a strategy?

A strategy is a single-minded quest, achieved by combining a unique set of activities no one else can or will copy.

That’s not a slogan. It’s the simplest definition I know that actually works.

Imagine someone on your team tells you a story about something you should all do together that…

• Uses a set of activities no one else has.

• That no one else can or will copy.

• Where the magic is how those activities are combined.

• And the result? Value only you can deliver.

You’d stop scrolling. You’d listen.
Because they’re clearly onto something.

That’s strategy.
Not some fancy framework. Just a clear, original, uncopyable way forward.

Every strategy is a quest.
And every quest needs a purpose.

This is the journey you’re on. And if you don’t define it, your strategy won’t take you anywhere that matters.

Apple’s purpose?
“Making technology easy to use for the everyman.”

Google’s?
“To organize the world’s information, making it accessible and useful.”

The Red Cross?
“To prevent and alleviate human suffering in the face of emergencies.”

Simple. Clear. Powerful.

A good purpose isn’t a fluffy CSR mission statement. It’s not about saving the whales.
It’s about defining:

1. A problem worth solving

2. At meaningful scale

3. For a specific group of people

4. In a way anyone can understand

If you skip this step, your strategy might be brilliant — but for the wrong journey.

And by the way, when I say “organization,” I don’t just mean a global giant.
It could be a company of five. A department. Even a personal project.
Whatever the size — if it’s going somewhere, it needs a purpose.

The secret to strategy no one can copy

Let’s be real: not everything you do will be unique.
Trying to make it all special is a waste of time.

Your competitors will overlap with you. They’ll use similar tools, hire similar people, run similar playbooks. That’s normal. That’s fine.

What’s not fine?
If they have the same combination of activities as you.
Because then your strategy is generic.
And anything generic isn’t strategic. So here’s the extra secret:

At least one of your core activities must be something the competition can’t copy.

Maybe it’s a technology edge.
Maybe it’s cost structure, service model, or distribution.
Doesn’t matter. What matters is: it must be hard to imitate — and core to your value.

Let’s make this real.

• Apple makes both the hardware and the software.
  No one else does. Too expensive. Too complex.
  That one decision built an ecosystem that locked in loyalty for decades.

• IKEA flat-packed their furniture.
  Nobody else did. That changed everything.
  Yes, their prices were low. Their design was Swedish. Their costs were lean.
  But those things were easy to copy. Flat-packing wasn’t. It created a new category — and a manufacturing barrier to competition.

• Southwest Airlines cut all the frills.
  While everyone else was adding extras — and cost — Southwest stripped it down.
  Their simplicity was their edge.

In each case, the magic wasn’t doing everything differently.
It was one core activity that made their whole strategy uncopyable.

So how do you find yours?

Start with your four core activities — the ones you invest time and money into to deliver your purpose.

Here’s the rule:

• Three can be common.

• One has to make people say, “Now that’s different.”

That’s your version of “makes the hardware and the software.”
Or “flat-packed furniture.” Or “no frills air travel.”

It won’t be easy to find. But when you do?
Your strategy stops being bullsh*t —
and starts becoming a competitive advantage people can feel.

In Summary:

People don’t buy strategy.
They buy stories.

A real strategy is a single-minded quest — powered by a unique set of activities no one else can or will copy.

Your quest is your purpose:
A short, memorable statement that defines the problem you solve for a large group of people.

Your strategy is how you bring that purpose to life:
Through four core activities — three that anyone might do, and one that sets you apart.

That one difference is everything.
Get it right, and your strategy stops being theory —
and starts driving outcomes no one else can match.