Podcast: Play in new window | Download
In most scenarios, the default instinct for solving problems is additive. We add more features to a product, more resources to a team, more complexity to a process.
We operate under the assumption that “more” is inherently better. This approach feels safe and logical, layering on solutions to cover every contingency. This is also in line with the natural process of increasing entropy all around us.
However, imagine, what if the most powerful strategy isn’t about adding, but enabling radical subtraction?
What if the path to an unbeatable advantage lies in stripping away the very things everyone else considers essential?
This is the story of a World War II bomber that became the best aircraft of the war, not by adding more defenses, but by removing them entirely. It’s a masterclass in creative problem solving that holds powerful lessons for anyone looking to achieve a breakthrough.
——————————————————————————–
1. Strategy is Sacrifice: The Power of ‘Brutal Simplicity’
During WWII, the prevailing Allied bomber strategy was built on brute force and heavy defense. The prevalent assumption was that the German aircrafts were too fast and so, they needed to protect the allied aircrafts from German fleet’s attacks.
The main British heavy bomber, the Lancaster, weighed a massive 16 tons, had an average speed of 245 mph, required a crew of seven, and was armed with eight machine guns.
The American B-17 “Flying Fortress” took this even further, with a crew of ten and thirteen machine guns.
The strategic assumption was clear: “the more defensive armor they put on a bomber, the better the chance it would survive an attack.”
But aircraft designer Geoffrey de Havilland proposed a different, creative strategy.
Instead of adding more, he started taking things away. He designed the de Havilland Mosquito by stripping it down to its essence.
Unlike the heavy metal bombers, it was made of light wood. It had two engines instead of four. Most radically, he got rid of all the guns, which meant he could also get rid of the gunners and all the associated weight.
The results were astonishing. The Mosquito weighed just 7 tons—a full 10 tons lighter and less than half the weight of the big bombers—and needed a crew of only two. Yet, it could still carry the same 4,000 lb bomb load.
Because it was so light, it could fly at nearly 400 mph, making it not only faster than the German fighters sent to intercept it, but even faster than the legendary British Spitfire.
Its survival rate was “many times greater” than the lumbering, heavily-armed bombers. It became the best aircraft of the war because its strategy was based on subtraction.
As marketer Dave Trott summarized in his post, this approach embodies the core of creative strategy.
Creative strategy is not about adding more and more stuff. It’s about taking stuff away. Taking away absolutely every possible thing until There’s only one thing left. One single powerful simple thought.
This philosophy of ruthless subtraction is what advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi famously termed “brutal simplicity.”
——————————————————————————–
Lessons in Problem Solving from this story:
The Mosquito wasn’t just the result of a single good idea; it was the product of a powerful three-part creative process.
This process illustrates that true innovation rarely comes from a better answer, but from a better question, guided by an unwavering focus on the core mission. As the source material reminds us:
“Creativity is the only unfair advantage that is available to us which is still legal.”
– Dave Trott
De Havilland’s breakthrough reveals the three pillars that unlock this advantage.
First came Imagination. At a time when German fighters were over 100 mph faster than any Allied bomber, he didn’t ask how to add more armor. He asked a question that changed the entire paradigm:
What if the enemy could not catch you?
This question reframed the problem from “How do we better defend our bombers?” to “How do we make our bombers impossible to attack?” This imaginative leap was the catalyst for everything that followed.
Second, de Havilland relied on his Intuition. He knew instinctively that a bomber’s only essential job was to “drop bombs on enemy territory.” Everything else—the guns, the gunners, the heavy armor—was just “paraphernalia” designed to support that one job.
His intuition told him that if speed could accomplish the mission, the entire defensive apparatus was obsolete.
Finally, this led him to Challenge Assumptions. The foundational assumption of aerial warfare was that a bomber must be defended because it will be attacked.
This was treated as an immutable rule. By combining imagination and intuition, de Havilland realized this “rule” wasn’t a rule at all.
He created an idea so powerful it changed the course of the air war because he refused to accept the premise everyone else took for granted.
——————————————————————————–
Conclusion:
The story of the de Havilland Mosquito is a timeless reminder that true creative strategy often lies not in complex addition, but in radical simplification.
Breakthroughs don’t come from following the established rules more aggressively; they come from questioning the rules themselves.
They emerge when we have the courage to subtract, to simplify, and to focus on a single, powerful idea.
It leaves us with a critical question to apply to our own challenges.
In your work or life, what are you adding for defense that is actually just slowing you down?
What could you achieve if you stripped it all away and simply tried to be too fast to catch?
