Why "Safe" Is The Most Dangerous Word

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” — John A. Shedd

I evicted a four-letter word from my heart and mind years ago.

Safe.

Even writing it makes me tense up.

Not because I live on the edge. I don’t cliff jump, wrestle alligators, or plan to bet everything on a 40:1 longshot at next week’s Preakness. I like safe car seats for kids, planes with properly maintained engines, elevators that don’t plunge 16 floors, and retirement plans that grow steadily.

But I don’t want creative people, like you and me, to play it safe.

I don’t want musicians crafting songs that are “safe for the whole family,” filmmakers recycling the same Hollywood formula, or authors deleting the sentence that might make an editor sweat. I definitely don’t want marketers creating content that pleases but never provokes.

We don’t need safe. We need smart. And today, smart means unconventional.

Whether you’re writing copy for a social campaign, launching an animation studio, designing the interior of a new restaurant, or rallying support for foster care reform, the smartest path forward is to defy convention.

I hear the pushback:

But what about income, Erik? What if the audience wants safe? What if I’m too far ahead of my industry, and my team or clients think I’m insane? What if investors won’t fund it? What if it fails?

My answer?

(I often joke that my arm is sore from throwing caution into the wind so many times).

Here’s what I know: in the most cluttered, distracted, fragmented marketplace in human history, doing the same thing over and over again isn’t just ineffective—it’s insane.

And yet, many still cling to conventional strategies like a childhood woobie (if you don’t get the reference, watch Mr. Mom. Clip here). Many think familiarity means security. But I’m convinced that “safe” is the most dangerous strategy of all.

Of course we crave safety. We're wired for it. Familiar routines feel like protection against failure. But conventional approaches, especially in marketing —press releases, paid media, banner ads, boosted posts—no longer guarantees results.

It guarantees irrelevance.

Safety, in the creative world, kills. It rewards imitation over imagination. Approval over impact. And it produces work that disappears into the noise instead of breaking through it.

That’s the power of going unconventional. It doesn’t chase safety—it redefines it. In a volatile world, the only secure approach is one that’s flexible, original, and emotionally resonant. Unconventional thinking invites smart risks. It opens the door to new formats, new voices, new reactions.

One of my favorite lines from the beautifully unsafe movie Sing Street says it best:
“Rock and roll is a risk. You risk being ridiculed.”

The campaigns that moved culture, broke the internet, or built a tribe didn’t follow best practices—they lit the playbook on fire. They weren’t safe. They were bold, weird, human, and unforgettable.

But what do you do when fear hits—when you’re alone, sales are flat, others question you, and that haunting phrase creeps in: “Pioneers get slaughtered. Settlers prosper.”

You start small. You pilot strange ideas. You turn theory into a lab. You use your platforms to experiment. You partner with unexpected voices. You build trust through authenticity, not polish. And you stop asking, “What will get the least criticism?” and start asking, “What will be impossible to ignore?”

Because true safety comes from resonance. And resonance is earned by doing what no one else dares to do.

So let others chase comfort. Let them be predictable. Hell, let them earn a living. Boring. I want more than earning a living. I want to go after something that will reshape, redefine, be remembered for its impact and influence. If you want to move people—if you want to matter—you must choose the path less traveled.

Scratch that. Choose the path that requires a machete.

Yep, I am convinced that the biggest risk isn’t being too bold.

It’s being forgotten.

© Some Assembly Required, 2025