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- That’s not mystery. That’s missing.
That’s not mystery. That’s missing.
Every Tuesday, The Productive Disruptive delivers storytelling science, message makeovers, cultural commentary, and a little rebellious hope for anyone still stubborn enough to believe communication can change the world.
Dorian Johnson
January 06, 2026
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So… How Did We Get Here?
There’s a particular question I ask when a story stops working for me.
Not “did I like it?”
Not “was it entertaining?”
The question is:
How the hell did we get here?
Because sometimes characters arrive at a moment, an outcome, a resolution, and I’m sitting there like… okay, but you didn’t walk me here. You dropped me off.
Actually, you ejected me.
I had that feeling during the series finale of Stranger Things on New Year’s Eve…
I also wasn’t alone.
Exhibit A
I’ll leave my thoughts deliberately ambiguous. No spoilers here.
But let’s just say this:
After years of buildup, emotional investment, and literal hundreds of millions of dollars…
You can’t resolve core narrative movements off screen.
You broke a fundamental storytelling rule and expected the audience to do major labor for you.
And it wasn’t trusting the viewer to connect the dots.
It was just poor mechanics.
There were moments where I was thinking, wow, bold choice.
But there were other moments where I thought, wait… when did that happen?
Or how does this happen if that happened earlier?
Which is not the same experience.
Here’s the thing.
There is a fine line between intentional mystery and narrative negligence.
Of course not everything can be seen on screen(or told verbally).
Characters live lives we don’t see every second of.
That’s normal.
But there is a limit.
And the limit is consequence.
If the thing that explains why everything else works happens off screen?
That’s like skipping leg day and wondering why your ending can’t stand up.
Stories don’t just happen at the destination.
They happen because of what people do on the way there.
And you need to show what drives change.
What do characters choose?
What do they avoid?
What does it cost them?
Imagine if I told you this:
“They woke up overwhelmed.
By dinner, everything was resolved.”
If you’re asking “what happened between breakfast and dinner,” you should.
And if the answer is “oh, the resolution? It happened off screen.”
Lazyyyyyyy.
Mystery invites me to lean in.
Absence makes me feel like I missed a meeting.
And when that happens in a finale?
A series finale?
Nah.
There is no “next season” to clean this up.
No “we’ll explain it later.”
If you want me to believe the ending, you have to show me the path.
Obviously, this isn’t just about TV.
We remember the outcome and forget the process.
And when we skip the process, we start telling very sloppy stories.
🧠 Story Science Side Note: Your brain understands stories by breaking them into meaningful events with clear transitions. This is called event segmentation, and when a story skips over the moment where a major change actually happens(or it’s omitted), the brain can’t properly register or remember it. Instead of feeling intrigue, the experience registers as confusion — like a scene is missing, because it literally is.
📝 Message Makeover:
Before:
Stories are about what happens.
After:
Stories are about why what happens makes sense.
Skip the “why,” and the ending collapses.
🛠️ The PHacilitator’s Corner:
Pick a story you love… or one that didn’t quite land.
Ask yourself:
What’s the most important thing that must have happened for the ending to make sense?
Now zoom in.
Did the story actually show that moment of change, decision, or cost?
Or did it not?
Something to reflect on.
Here’s to a great 2026!