Beyond the Label:

Why "Everyone Is Creative" Hurts Everyone

The article appeared in my feed with a confident declaration: “Creativity Is Not a Talent. It’s a Skill You Can Train.”

I sat with that headline for a long moment, feeling the familiar tension between what sounds empowering and what I’ve observed to be true across four-and-a-half decades of coaching creative people, living as a creative, and navigating my own multi-faceted creative life.

The message is seductive. It promises that anyone—absolutely anyone—can unlock their creative potential with enough practice and the right techniques. It’s democratic, inclusive, and seemingly kind. Who wouldn’t want to believe that creativity is universally accessible, just waiting to be developed like a muscle at the gym?

But here’s what I’ve learned from the actual work of helping people develop their cognitive gifts: We’ve confused identity labels with cognitive reality, and that confusion is harming everyone—both those who have creative capacity and those who don’t.

This isn’t about creating an “us versus them” dynamic. It’s about honoring what people actually and authentically have so everyone can thrive in their genuine strengths rather than chasing labels that don’t match their neurological architecture.

The Label Versus the Capacity

Anyone can call themselves “creative.” It’s just a word. It costs nothing. It feels good. In modern culture, “creative” has become a status symbol—signaling intelligence, sophistication, uniqueness, and economic value. We see this everywhere: tech companies branding their systematic coders as “creatives,” corporations talking about “creative problem-solving,” even organizing a closet getting labeled as a “creative” act.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: the label doesn’t create the capacity.

Calling yourself creative doesn’t mean you can generate genuinely novel concepts, transform a medium into something it wasn’t before, or synthesize disparate elements into original work. The label is ultimately meaningless if the underlying cognitive architecture isn’t there.

And before anyone hears this as elitism, let me be clear: lacking creative capacity doesn’t make someone less valuable as a human being. It just means their cognitive gifts lie elsewhere—and those other gifts are equally essential to how we function as a society.

The Harm to People WITH Creative Seeds

When we insist that everyone is creative—that it’s purely a trainable skill anyone can master—we end up devaluing actual creative capacity.

If balancing a checkbook is “creative,” and optimizing a workflow is “creative,” and following a recipe is “creative,” then what does the word even mean anymore? When everything is creative, nothing is.

People with genuine creative capacity—the ones generating novels from nothing, composing original music, creating transformative art, synthesizing new frameworks—find their work diluted in a sea of people claiming the same label for fundamentally different cognitive processes.

I have always wanted to be an artist and create magnificent paintings and sought-after works of art. But the reality is: I can draw. Barely. It’s just not a path my creative spirit can travel down. And I would no sooner declare myself creative on the level of Degas or Michelangelo than I would claim that creative ability.

When the definition of the word “creative” gets used for anything and everything, the market gets flooded. The meaning gets lost. And the people doing genuinely generative work struggle to articulate what makes their process different from someone optimizing a spreadsheet.

The Harm to People WITHOUT Creative Seeds

But here’s what bothers me even more: the “everyone is creative” narrative is actually cruel to people who don’t have creative capacity.

Over the years, I’ve worked with clients who simply didn’t have creative seeds. Not in any domain I could identify. Not waiting to be unlocked. Not dormant from lack of cultivation. Just not there.

And when I recognized this, I didn’t keep trying to force creativity training on them. Instead, I taught them systems—reliable frameworks they could learn and apply to advance in their lives. Some became extraordinary at numerical organization, at building efficient processes, at executing complex plans with precision.

They were satisfied. They felt accomplished. Some even felt they were being “creative” because they’d learned to optimize systems in sophisticated ways.

But here’s the thing: they weren’t actually creative by any meaningful definition. They were systems-savvy. And that’s equally valuable—just different.

The problem is that by insisting they were “creative,” we were actually doing them a disservice. We were suggesting that their real cognitive gift—systematic thinking—wasn’t enough. That they needed to be something else to have value.

When we tell people without creative seeds that they just need more training, more practice, more techniques, we:

• Set them up for years of frustration pursuing something their neurology doesn’t support

• Prevent them from fully developing their actual cognitive strengths

• Create shame when they can’t produce what others with creative capacity can

• Waste their time, energy, and often money on impossible outcomes

That’s not kindness. That’s cruelty disguised as empowerment.

Systems Aren’t Creativity—And That’s Not an Insult

Let me draw a distinction that most people deliberately blur:

Systems thinking is not the same as creative thinking. Both are valuable. Both are necessary. But they’re fundamentally different cognitive processes.

Systems involve:

• Following established patterns

• Optimizing existing processes

• Applying known frameworks

• Executing within parameters

• Problem-solving using logical operations

Creativity involves:

• Generating genuinely novel concepts

• Transforming a medium into something it wasn’t before

• Transcending functional constraints

• Synthesizing disparate elements into original work

• Breaking or reimagining the system itself

Here’s a concrete example: Is balancing a checkbook creative? No. It’s applying mathematical operations within an established accounting framework. It’s system execution, and it can be taught to anyone with decent cognitive function.

Is creating art made entirely of numbers creative? Yes. That’s taking a functional medium and transforming it into aesthetic expression—transcending its utilitarian purpose to generate something genuinely new.

Same medium. Completely different cognitive processes.

Personal Example: A client doesn’t seem to have what I call the “creative seed.” Which, as part of my job as a coach, is to identify this so I’m not pummeling them with trying to be more “creative.” Instead, I teach them how to create personal systems that allow them to advance in life without having to rely on something they don’t possess. There have been times when I’ve acknowledged a client’s talent with numbers, but is that creativity? No. It’s a system. I can teach them systems and they can learn them. That doesn’t make them creative, per se. Unless they become “creative with numbers.” What would that mean for them?

In my way of thinking, numbers are a system and always will be. Does systems learning masquerade as creativity? It could in some people’s definition of the word. But for me, that really stretches the meaning of what I see as true creativity. Is balancing a checkbook “creative?” No. It’s a system. Is creating art made entirely of numbers “creative?” Yes. They have taken the medium and crafted into something that didn’t exist before.

Most of what we call “creativity” in modern professional contexts is actually system optimization. When tech companies call their coders “creatives,” they’re usually describing people who solve logical problems within the constraints of programming languages—systematic work, not creative work. When someone talks about “creative problem-solving” in business, they usually mean finding innovative applications of existing frameworks—optimization, not generation.

And there’s nothing wrong with that. System optimization is incredibly valuable. Our entire technological infrastructure depends on people who can execute systematic work with precision and efficiency. The world needs brilliant systematic thinkers.

But calling them “creative” doesn’t honor their actual gift. It suggests that systematic thinking isn’t impressive enough on its own, that it needs to be rebranded as creativity to have value.

That’s backwards. The person who can build an unbreakable system is doing something most creative people cannot do. Why isn’t that celebrated as its own form of genius?

The Beautiful Diversity of Cognitive Architecture

Here’s what I believe based on decades of observation and experience: We all have different cognitive architectures, and that diversity is what makes human society functional.

Some people have creative seeds in specific domains:

• Novel generation and synthesis

• Transformation of mediums

• Pattern-breaking innovation

• Generative capacity

Some people have systematic seeds:

• Framework optimization

• Consistent execution

• Process refinement

• Organizational excellence

Some people have analytical seeds:

• Logical problem-solving

• Pattern recognition within existing structures

• Risk assessment

• Data interpretation

Some people have empathetic seeds:

• Emotional intelligence

• Interpersonal connection

• Care and support

• Social coordination

Some people have kinesthetic seeds:

• Physical mastery

• Spatial intelligence

• Hands-on problem-solving

• Body-based knowing

None of these is inherently superior to the others. They’re different specializations that allow us to tackle different kinds of challenges.

The creative person who generates a brilliant vision but can’t execute the systematic details? They need someone with systematic seeds.

The systematic person who can execute flawlessly but doesn’t generate original concepts? They need someone with creative seeds.

Society functions because we have cognitive diversity, not despite it.

Domain and Level Specificity

Here’s another truth that gets lost in the “everyone is creative” narrative: creativity isn’t monolithic.

As I mentioned before, I can draw. Mostly stick figures and simple line drawings. So I acknowledge that I don’t have that particular seed. I totally suck at math. I can do the basics in my head, the same skill that grade schoolers learn. Anything beyond that, nope. However, I possess a way with words and language. I learned this early on, and understood that I could develop and nurture that seed, and have done exactly that for fifty-some years. I make my living as a writer. I wouldn’t survive a week if I tried to make my living as an artist.

I’m deeply creative in certain domains and barely functional in others. Does that make me “a creative”? Or does it mean I have creative seeds in specific areas that I’ve cultivated over decades?

We easily accept this kind of spectrum in other domains. Nobody argues that everyone can play violin at the same level with enough practice. We understand that while anyone can learn basic technique, genuine virtuosity requires both innate capacity and extensive cultivation. With the emphasis on “innate capacity.”

Why can’t we apply the same honest assessment to creativity?

Liberation, Not Limitation

Some people will read this and hear judgment. They’ll think I’m creating a hierarchy or gatekeeping creativity or trying to make people feel bad about themselves.

But that’s exactly backwards.

Honest assessment isn’t limiting—it’s liberating.

When you know and understand your actual cognitive architecture, you can develop it fully instead of wasting years chasing something you don’t have. You can stop feeling inadequate for not producing what someone with a different neurological setup can produce. You can celebrate your real gifts instead of feeling like they’re not enough.

The systematic thinker who stops trying to be “creative” and instead masters system optimization? They become exceptional at what they actually do well.

The person with empathetic seeds who stops feeling guilty for not being innovative and instead develops their capacity for care? They become extraordinary at connecting and supporting people.

That’s not limitation. That’s freedom.

My first meeting with a client we’ll call “Jill,” started like this. “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” That was the first thing she said to me once we’d settled into our seats at a local coffee shop. I looked at her. “You do understand that I’m a coach who specializes in creativity, right?” I asked. “Well, that’s just it,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to be a painter and have tried over and over to become a painter, but…” She shrugged. So I started asking her questions. What emerged was the fact that she was indeed creative, just not in the area she wanted to be creative in. She was an amazing interior designer. Her home was stunning. A creative showcase. And we uncovered a few other areas in which she had an innate aptitude.

We ended up working together, but not on making her an artist. We worked on developing her specific “seeds” for work that involved her creating something from little or nothing. And we both gained a better understanding on how creativity worked.

The Invitation

So here’s what I’m actually saying:

Call yourself whatever you want. If the label “creative” makes you feel good, use it. I’m not the identity police.

But ask yourself honestly: Do you have creative capacity, or do you just want the label?

If you’re more interested in the status of being called “creative” than in doing the actual work of generating genuinely novel concepts—if you’re content with optimizing systems and calling it creativity—that’s worth examining.

And if you’re someone who’s been struggling to develop creativity despite years of trying, despite taking all the courses and reading all the books, maybe the most compassionate thing I can say is: What if your cognitive gifts lie elsewhere?

What if you have systematic brilliance, or analytical genius, or empathetic depth that’s being ignored because you’re convinced you need to be “creative” to have value?

What if the most creative thing you could do is honor what and who you actually are?

A Final Word for the Highly Sensitive

I work primarily with highly sensitive people, and here’s what I’ve observed: HSPs disproportionately do have creative seeds.

Enhanced sensory processing gives you more raw material for synthesis. Deeper emotional range provides a richer palette to work with. Pattern recognition sensitivity helps you see connections others miss. The overwhelm you experience in “normal” life often drives you toward creative expression as a processing mechanism.

But not all HSPs are creative. Some have systematic seeds, analytical seeds, empathetic seeds. And all of those are equally valid.

If you’re an HSP with genuine creative capacity, you don’t need to be told “everyone is creative.” You need conditions that allow your actual gifts to flourish—supportive environments, understanding communities, and guidance that works with what you actually have.

That’s what I’m here to provide. Not false promises that anyone can be anything. But honest recognition of what’s actually there, and strategic cultivation of your real cognitive architecture.

Because the world doesn’t need more people pretending to be creative.

It needs more people becoming fully, authentically what and who they actually are.

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Does this resonate with your experience? I’d love to hear your thoughts—especially if you’ve struggled with the pressure to be “creative” or if you’ve discovered freedom in honoring your actual cognitive gifts.