I cut my teeth on guerrilla marketing when I was just 11 years old.
At summer camp, the organizers announced a scavenger hunt. The list contained 100 items—from bottle caps to paper clips—and the first camper to bring them all in would win a couple dozen candy bars. When the list was handed out, chaos erupted as campers dashed for the door. But instead of joining the stampede, I rallied the boys in my cabin and proposed we divide the list, combine our findings, and split the prize. Within no time, we presented all 100 items to a stunned group of camp counselors. Later, I distributed candy bars to a cabin full of ecstatic boys whose joy made every counselor’s shocked expression worth it.
Years later, I shared this story with friends in Israel. I asked them if they thought what I did was fair. “It wasn’t fair,” said a lawyer, “but I’m so glad you did it.” I didn’t press for more, but I suspect she felt our creative spirit justified our bending of the rules.
I once read that creativity entered the world through a lie. According to this writer, a cave man imagined an imaginary water hole and sent a rival clan off in the wrong direction. Creativity imagines worlds that don’t yet exist. Every creative act, in this sense, is “untruthful.”
Great guerrilla marketing means developing a sixth sense for how and when to creatively cut corners. It’s an impish instinct for breaking rules—but also a skillful balancing act between creativity and unethical trickery. Had I kept the candy bars for myself, my story of youthful ingenuity would’ve been one of betrayal instead.
As I shared in a prior post, we founded Raleigh Group International (RGI) with little more than grit and a shoestring budget. To generate revenue quickly, we resold shrink-wrap software priced between $500–$1000 per user. Back then, vendors typically sent out demos, but this approach dragged out the sales cycle and consumed precious resources. We couldn’t afford that luxury.
Our solution? We stopped sending demos. Instead, we asked for a credit card upfront and backed it with a 30-day money-back guarantee. This approach worked so well that within a year we earned a Triangle Business Journal award.
Every school has its “good kids” and “bad kids,” but there are also the scamps—the mischievous, beloved troublemakers. They’re often as popular with teachers as they are familiar with the principal’s office. The universal appeal of the scamp fuels countless films. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a perfect primer on guerrilla marketing.
Every great guerrilla marketer is a scamp at heart—a rule-breaker scanning convention for assumptions begging to be shattered. Just as a bowling ball is the natural enemy of the egg, guerrilla marketing thrives on challenging business-as-usual.
In our case, questioning norms revealed that programmers—despite no prior experience with shrink-wrap software—were willing to make impulsive, high-dollar purchases. Our fresh perspective as outsiders let us see the flaws in prevailing assumptions. It’s no coincidence that the most innovative thinking in art, science, and business often comes from outsiders.
There’s a saying that most of our problems stem from unchallenged assumptions. Unexamined beliefs are guerrilla marketing’s biggest enemy. Spend a little time each day interrogating your business model’s implicit and explicit assumptions. Encourage brainstorming sessions that reject “business as usual.” Surround yourself with scamps and foster a culture where forgiveness trumps permission.
Most of all, embrace your own inner scamp. Take a few risks. You’ll be surprised at the results. And don’t worry—this advice comes with a money-back guarantee.
August Turak: Former Forbes Contributor
As a contributor for Forbes, August Turak explored the intersection of leadership, service, and philosophy—offering timeless insights on how these principles can drive both personal transformation and organizational success. His writing blends practical wisdom with spiritual depth, inspiring readers to lead with purpose, embrace selflessness, and create lasting change in their lives and work.