Thinking Backwards: Crucial Element of Any Story

Does it make sense to consider the ending before even beginning? It's a question that seems particularly pressing when the end of a year comes closer, doesn’t it? Many people set ambitious goals at the beginning of a year: more exercise, healthier eating, flying less, taking the train or bike, reducing screen time, or minimizing stress.

Have we fulfilled our promises from January 2024? Most of us know how these ended: within days, discipline wanes. The good intentions vanish without a trace, only to resurface on December 31 of the following year. And so, the cycle begins anew. (If you want to brake this cycle you have to stick to a think at least 66 days, so it becomes a habit - according to psychologist Phillippa Lally’s research).

The ending is significant—often more than the beginning. The year, for instance, may have started slowly or even amidst crises, but what truly matters is how it ends. And with a year as momentous as 2024, we’re inclined to ask how the entire decade will conclude. Futurists and trend analysts attempt to provide forecasts, but their insights remain as uncertain as gazing into a crystal ball. Never before has the future seemed so unpredictable.

How will this end?

In contrast, stories are not shaped by fate or a series of fortunate—or unfortunate—events. While audiences may be left in suspense, at least one person knows exactly how it all unfolds: the author. Or so we would like to believe. “Finding the right ending can be as challenging for filmmakers as it is for any storyteller,” Kilian Trotier mentions an article in DIE ZEIT Magazin, discussing the art of crafting the perfect ending. The suspense of not knowing how a story will end is what keeps audiences hooked, but it’s a delicate balance for any storyteller.

A truly compelling story is built with its ending in mind. No one expressed this better than Pixar director Andrew Stanton, the creative force behind Toy Story and WALL-E:

“Storytelling is joke telling. It’s knowing your punchline, your ending, knowing that everything you’re saying, from the first sentence to the last, is leading to a singular goal, and ideally confirming some truth that deepens our understanding of who we are as human beings.”

At its end, a story reveals its full meaning and purpose. The more seamlessly its various elements—characters, plotlines, events, and insights—converge on a singular goal, the more powerful its impact. This is why it’s vital to know from the outset where everything is ultimately headed.

It’s Just About Sales, Right?

This principle of a meaningful ending applies not only to narrative arts like literature, film, or theater but also to corporate and brand storytelling.

In marketing and PR, storytelling must achieve more than just driving sales or revenue. As Simon Sinek’s Start with Why emphasizes, those who haven’t grasped this should steer clear of storytelling and stick to straightforward product communication.

Corporate storytellers face the delicate task of balancing narrative, plot, and brand messaging. We’ve all experienced the frustration of a good story being derailed by clumsy product placement or an overbearing brand mention at the end.

The conclusion of an image or brand film often lays bare how compelling the plot was, how relevant the message, and, most importantly, how credible the brand behind the story appears.

The Psychology of Endings

It’s no wonder, then, that storytelling consultants focus on crafting impactful endings. Storytelling coach Donald Miller, known for his StoryBrand method, outlines three ways to end a story effectively:

1. The hero gains new strength or status by the end (with help from the company or product).
   
   
2. The hero reunites with someone or something, becoming whole again (with the brand playing a key role).
   
   
3. The hero undergoes self-reflection, emerging as a better person (again, the brand is central to this transformation).

All three outcomes share a common thread: the hero is transformed, thanks to the company, brand, or product. (This transformation is a hallmark of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, a universal story archetype equally relevant to corporate narratives.)

According to Miller, a good story doesn’t end with a simple call to action like “buy this.” Instead, it points to fundamental psychological needs and their emotional significance. In other words, it offers meaning—Simon Sinek’s “Reason Why” or, more succinctly, a purpose.

Happy Ending, Happy Audience

The importance of a meaningful conclusion was eloquently articulated by novelist and essayist Matt Haig in a Süddeutsche Zeitung interview. Haig, who has struggled with severe depression for decades, often reflects on his illness in his work such as The Humans. He describes stories as a form of antidepressant because they follow a clear structure: “Depression has no plot, no recognizable arc. I used to distrust stories with a clear plot—beginning, middle, and end—thinking them pretentious. But when I was sick, I craved proper stories. I needed narratives with action, and for a plot to exist, something must change. When I was unwell, that was a belief I needed to hold on to: that change is possible.”

Psychologists refer to this as “contextualization”—stories help us make sense of the world by linking events and experiences. This is one of the primary reasons we cherish happy endings.

Never-Ending Stories

In the 21st century, however, simplicity is elusive—even happy endings are becoming rare. Netflix audiences know this well: most seasons end not with resolution but with an even more unsettling cliffhanger.

Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, where the hero returns home and everything resolves, no longer fits. Even Aristotle’s axiom—that every story has a beginning, middle, and end—seems to be dissolving.

Take The Simpsons, the longest-running series since 1989, which has no end in sight. Or The Big Bang Theory, which concluded after 279 episodes but could easily have continued indefinitely. Screenwriters like Richard Kropf, Bob Konrad, and Hanno Hackfort—creators of Anna und die Liebe and 4 Blocks—understand the challenges of “never-ending stories”:
“Because it’s a series, the end isn’t truly an end. It always sets up a new beginning. (…) What seemed resolved reopens completely, laying the foundation for the next episode or season. (…) In other words, a good ending can also be a fantastic new beginning.”

Endings as New Beginnings

The mantra “onwards and upwards” applies to series, but does it hold for corporate communication and marketing? Don’t we, at some point, need to draw a line and talk about the purchase? Certainly, it makes sense for corporate storytelling—such as customer case studies—to end on a high note, showcasing how you’ve helped a client. But why not experiment with a cliffhanger in corporate communication?

The term “cliffhanger” originates from Thomas Hardy’s 1873 novel A Pair of Blue Eyes, published in serialized form. One episode ended with the protagonist clinging to a cliff’s edge. Readers, gripped and anxious, had to wait a week to learn his fate. Thus, the serialized novel—and a powerful engagement tactic—was born.

In the 1920s, Gestalt psychologist Kurt Lewin and his colleague Bluma Zeigarnik studied this phenomenon, demonstrating that people remember interrupted tasks better than completed ones—a finding known as the “Zeigarnik Effect.” So, instead of neatly wrapping up your narrative, consider stopping at the most thrilling moment and picking up the story next week.

Corporate and brand stories aren’t just trivial anecdotes. They’re strategic communication tools and invitations to engage with your audience—far beyond your product offerings.

As every great storyteller knows, it’s worth thinking backwards from the end. 

Content creation (text & image) entirely by a human. Translation assisted by AI.