Meandering, book browsing and Scribbling: How McCann's Harjot Singh Keeps His Brain Fizzing

If advertising agencies have an engine room then arguably that is its teams of planners and strategists. After all, is it largely through their knowledge and insights that the response to even the most difficult client brief is fueled.

Brain Food is a profile series that explores the inspirations from strategy leaders across advertising, to understand how they remain informed and on top of culture and events that are then used to develop the world’s creative campaigns.

For our introductory profile, McCann and McCann Worldgroup's global chief strategy officer Harjot Singh shares how he keeps his mind rich with thought and remains constantly productive.

Always carrying a notebook, and always bookmark an empty page

One could argue that the act of always carrying a notebook is, at first glance, a simple habit, easily dismissed as the idiosyncrasy of someone who clings to the idea of preparedness. But its more than that to me. In so many ways the act of always bookmarking an empty page is a totem—a deliberate acknowledgment of the world’s complexity and an invitation to engage with it on my own terms.

The empty page isn’t just a repository for my thoughts and reminders to buy bin liners or tea bags. It represents potential, the untapped that waits for the right moment to show up. Bookmarking it, forces me to acknowledge the unpredictability of inspiration—the way it can strike at odd moments, demanding to be captured before it slips away. That empty page, then, is a tool of vigilance, a way to keep myself open to the world, to refuse the passivity that so often accompanies daily life.

To me, there is also a subtle defiance in its emptiness. In an industry that often demands instant productivity and visible results, the empty page is a reminder to me that not everything needs to be filled, that some spaces are valuable precisely because they are left open. It speaks to a trust in the process of thought and creation, a belief that ideas, once given space, will eventually take shape. It’s a source of inspiration because it embodies the essence of the planner’s craft—an ongoing dialogue with the self, a quiet yet relentless pursuit of meaning in a world that rarely hands it over freely.

Going to a bookshop and losing track of time

Bookshops have always been a refuge to me. In my childhood they made me feel safe. Now they make me feel hopeful. I love losing track of time in a bookshop. It is like making a conscious decision to surrender to a rare and exquisite form of disorientation. Bookshops are places where books are sold; but I have always thought of them as sanctuaries of thought, each one a labyrinth of stories, ideas, and possibilities, waiting to be uncovered by those willing to wander.

I find bookshops inspiring because the inspiration here lies in the paradox of choice and the endless potential of discovery. In a bookshop, you are confronted with the vast expanse of human expression—so many voices, each bound within its covers, waiting to be heard. Every shelf holds the promise of something unexpected, a chance encounter with a thought, a narrative, or a perspective that could reshape something already on my mind or spark a new idea.  I find that the experience of losing track of time in a bookshop carries a certain humility within it. In losing track of time, you are reminded of the limits of your own knowledge, of how much there is that you do not know. Yet, I find that this realisation is not disheartening; rather, it is invigorating.

This is where inspiration thrives: in the unplanned, in something you didn’t know you were looking for until you found it, hidden, waiting to be discovered.

An aimless walk

Going out for an aimless walk is a deceptively simple act, often overlooked in its potential to inspire. But to walk aimlessly is to engage with the world in a way that is both intimate and expansive, a form of exploration that opens the door to observation, and reflection – sparking ideas, evoking memories, or simply providing a moment of clarity. It just sharpens the senses.

I find that the inspiration in walking aimlessly, lies in its ability to recalibrate the mind. The mind, no longer tethered to a desk or a screen, begins to wander freely, much like the path one takes. There is something inherently liberating about this—an invitation to let go of the structured, goal-oriented thinking that tends to dominate so much of what we do, and instead embrace a more fluid, organic process of thought.

But perhaps the most profound inspiration drawn from walking aimlessly is the way it mirrors the creative process itself.  An aimless walk unfolds step by step, without necessarily knowing the destination, a journey, sometimes uncertain, sometimes meandering, but always leading somewhere—perhaps to a place you never expected, a new perspective, or a deeper understanding. For me, inspiration lives in the very act of moving forward, one step at a time which is exactly what an “aimless walk” is all about.