Strolling: The Underrated Art of Strategy

Flâneurs stroll without a goal. And that’s precisely why they often find what truly matters. As a strategy consultant, I’ve learned: the best insights often wait beyond the planned path.

Flâneurs? Those are the people who wander the city seemingly aimlessly, yet observe everything with a keen eye. Their role models? Charles Baudelaire or Walter Benjamin. Mine is also an old friend I once met in a youth hostel in San Francisco. He looked at me and said: “Get lost.” Meaning: lose yourself in the city instead of following a sightseeing tour. That sentence stuck with me — and shaped how I see the world.

As a consultant, I work analytically and with structure. But that’s only half the story. My best ideas don’t come in the shower. They come while I stroll.

I’m endlessly curious. Maybe that’s why, even after 20 years, I’m still deeply passionate about consulting. I’ve had the chance to work with all kinds of companies and cultures — small and massive ones, across Europe, the US, Brazil, and China.

And I don’t just learn through analysis and structure. I learn by strolling: by observing, listening, and tuning in to the nuances. Letting myself drift means allowing new thoughts in, shifting perspectives, and noticing connections that are easily overlooked in the everyday rush.

To stroll is to be part of something larger — a city, an organization — and still remain a critical observer. It means noticing the fleeting: the informal, the fast-paced, the small things that can have a big impact — if you catch them.

Strolling doesn’t follow the economic principle. It’s a cultural act. A beautiful way to waste time — and to gift something to yourself. And here’s what many underestimate: Good strategy needs strolling. It needs room to discover spaces where the unexpected emerges. Strategy requires the freedom to wander.

To borrow from Baudelaire: “The flâneur is a passionate observer. It is an immense joy for him to dwell in the flow of movement, in the infinite and the manifold. The flâneur feels at home wherever he is not at home.”

As a consultant with a love for philosophy and literature — yes, I couldn’t agree more.

My job is to read the structures and traces of networks and organizations — the small ones and the big ones, the Amazons and Microsofts of this world. And sometimes, I leave traces of my own — new narratives that help companies find orientation.

And it all began in a youth hostel.