Causing a Stink: Why Storytelling is a Human Business

Do you like cheese? It sounds like a trivial icebreaker, the kind of throwaway question you might hear at a networking event while awkwardly hovering over the buffet. But lately, I’ve been realizing that the answer to that simple question actually serves as a profound metaphor for the work we do in video production and customer storytelling. I was sitting at my desk recently, staring at a sandwich and contemplating the merits of a good, hearty Stilton versus a safe, creamy Brie, and it hit me: the best stories, like the best cheeses, aren’t always the ones that are easiest to swallow. They are the ones with character.

I often find myself in the middle of a production-whether we are on location or managing a remote shoot via our platform-wondering how much “reality” we should let bleed into the final cut. In a world where corporate messaging is often sanitized to the point of blandness, I am making the case for the “stink.” I am making the case for the messiness. Because if we want to empower people through human-centered technology, we have to be willing to show the humans, imperfections and all.

The Case for “Stilton” Stories in a “Brie” World

Let’s be honest: Brie is safe. It’s creamy, it’s mild, and with a bit of cranberry, it’s a crowd-pleaser. In the corporate world, “Brie” stories are those perfectly polished testimonials where nothing ever goes wrong, the implementation was flawless, and the ROI appeared like magic overnight. But does anyone actually believe those stories? I don’t think so. When I look for a narrative that moves me, I look for the Stilton. I want a story that belongs in a Dickens novel-full of life, full of character, and yes, perhaps full of a little bit of “blue nastiness” that scares off the faint of heart.

In my experience as a video producer, the moments that truly resonate with an audience are the ones where the subject admits to a struggle. It’s the “stink” of the problem that makes the solution sweeter. If we edit out all the friction, we lose the texture of the triumph. The PR team might want to take time off and let the safe story run, but we owe it to our community to dig deeper. We need to find the rich, complex narrative that might put some people off their crackers but will make the right people sit up and listen.

Alas, poor Yorick, the Stilton remains a favourite of mine. It has a character so rich it refuses to be ignored, much like the truth of a customer’s journey when they finally overcome a massive hurdle.

When the Red Light Doesn’t Turn On

Of course, embracing the messiness of reality isn’t just about the narrative arc; it’s also about how we handle the logistics of production. We pride ourselves on innovation and secure, seamless technology, but anyone who works in tech knows that sometimes, the camera just doesn’t activate. I had a moment recently where I was testing a video response feature. I had given Chrome all the necessary permissions, I was ready to go, and… nothing. Silence. The timer was running, but the screen was dark.

In the past, that moment might have caused a panic. But there is a lesson in the glitch. When the technology pauses, the human connection has to take over. “Here’s some silence. And here’s some not silence.” That is the rhythm of production. We have to be comfortable with the silence. We have to be adaptable enough to say, “Okay, the video isn’t working, let’s talk until the timer runs out of life.”

This resilience is what we try to capture in our work. It’s not about pretending the tools are unbreakable; it’s about showing that when challenges arise, we have the human ingenuity to solve them. Whether it’s a user in a remote location struggling with bandwidth or a simple permissions error on a browser, the “human-centric” part of our mission means meeting people where they are, glitches included.

We listened to our users, and we learned that perfection isn’t the goal-connection is. Sometimes, you have to fill the silence with your own voice until the picture comes back into focus.

From Amsterdam to Manchester: The Global Debate

Finally, embracing authenticity means making space for the “Great Debates.” I’m not talking about politics; I’m talking about the real, divisive issues-like whether it’s going to snow. I recently reviewed some community responses regarding the weather, and the diversity of opinion was staggering. Susan in Edinburgh is convinced snow is coming. Jonathan in Lancaster thinks it won’t. And then there’s Sarah in Manchester, who cuts through the noise with a practical, no-nonsense approach: “A light dusting and the country loses its mind. Get the shovels out, get the boots on, and get it done.”

I love that attitude. It’s a reminder that our audience is global and diverse. We are preparing for a trip to Amsterdam soon-land of good cheese and windmills-and it reminds me that every market has its own flavor. I’m ambivalent about the windmills (I prefer the old style to the new ones), but I respect the engineering. Just as I respect Sarah’s “get it done” attitude regarding the snow.

When we create content, we have to account for the Susans, the Jonathans, and the Sarahs. We can’t promise a “White Christmas” if the data says it’s going to rain. We have to be honest. We have to facilitate the debate. Whether it’s a debate about feature sets, implementation timelines, or the weather, our platform needs to be the place where those voices can be heard clearly, without distortion.

Why won’t people just get the shovels out? It’s a question for the ages. Whether it’s snow or a complex digital transformation, the answer is usually less about predicting the future and more about having the right boots on when the storm hits.

So, will it snow today? I like to think it might. But even if it doesn’t, we’ll be here, capturing the debate, eating the Stilton, and keeping the cameras rolling-even if we have to troubleshoot them first. Because at the end of the day, the polish is nice, but the reality is where the trust is built. And I’d rather be trusted than just be polished.