The warning of Icarus
The other day, I was listening to an episode of the radio show/podcast On Being. Seth Godin was the guest, and he had some thought provoking things to say.
If I were to ask you to tell me the story of Daedalus and Icarus, what would you remember of it? What lesson do you think we should take from it?
As I remember it being taught to me, the important part was that Daedalus warned his son not to fly too high, but the boy didn't listen and fell to his death. The never-explicitly-stated-but-heavily-implied lesson was two-fold: 1) Listen to your parents, because disasters result from disobeying; and 2) Don't be too ambitious, because if you over-reach yourself there will be a disaster.
What gets... not left out, but glossed over and only mentioned in passing, is that Daedalus also warned his son against flying too low, because the the spray from the ocean would soak his wings and the weight of them would pull him down into the water and he would drown.
Here's what Mr Godin had to say about that story:
"Mr. Godin: So if you and I had been sitting around just after the Dark Ages and heard the story of Icarus - what we would have heard is this: that Daedalus said to his son two things - one, put these wings on but don't fly too close to the sun because it's too hot up there and the wax will melt. But more important, Son, do not fly too low, do not fly too close to the sea, because the mist and the water will weigh down the wings and you will surely perish. And for me the most important message that I've come to after thinking about this for so many years is, we are flying too low. We built this universe, this technology, these connections, this society, and all we can do with it is make junk. All we can do with it is put on stupid entertainments. I'm not buying it."
He draws a society-wide lesson from the story, that we as a culture are flying too low and wasting our energy on trivialities. I don't think he's wrong about that, but I think the more important lesson is personal.
We are so scared of what could happen if we aim too high that we don't even notice the hazards and consequences of aiming low until it's too late. We sense that keeping moving is getting more and more difficult, but don't connect it to the almost imperceptibly slow increase of the weight on our backs. We don't notice the creeping dampness on our skin. We just realize, suddenly, that our toes are dragging through the waves instead of clearing them and that we're chilled to the bone. And at that point, the only way to save ourselves is to put all of our remaining effort into flying as high as we can. We need to risk the heat of the sun in order to dry our wings and warm ourselves so that we have the energy to try again to find the proper balance between the dangers of both extremes.
I need to stay aware of where in the sky I'm flying, choose my altitude consciously, and fight my tendency to just let myself glide. Remember: all glides are downward, and if you just let them happen they all end the same way.
If I were to ask you to tell me the story of Daedalus and Icarus, what would you remember of it? What lesson do you think we should take from it?
As I remember it being taught to me, the important part was that Daedalus warned his son not to fly too high, but the boy didn't listen and fell to his death. The never-explicitly-stated-but-heavily-implied lesson was two-fold: 1) Listen to your parents, because disasters result from disobeying; and 2) Don't be too ambitious, because if you over-reach yourself there will be a disaster.
What gets... not left out, but glossed over and only mentioned in passing, is that Daedalus also warned his son against flying too low, because the the spray from the ocean would soak his wings and the weight of them would pull him down into the water and he would drown.
Here's what Mr Godin had to say about that story:
"Mr. Godin: So if you and I had been sitting around just after the Dark Ages and heard the story of Icarus - what we would have heard is this: that Daedalus said to his son two things - one, put these wings on but don't fly too close to the sun because it's too hot up there and the wax will melt. But more important, Son, do not fly too low, do not fly too close to the sea, because the mist and the water will weigh down the wings and you will surely perish. And for me the most important message that I've come to after thinking about this for so many years is, we are flying too low. We built this universe, this technology, these connections, this society, and all we can do with it is make junk. All we can do with it is put on stupid entertainments. I'm not buying it."
He draws a society-wide lesson from the story, that we as a culture are flying too low and wasting our energy on trivialities. I don't think he's wrong about that, but I think the more important lesson is personal.
We are so scared of what could happen if we aim too high that we don't even notice the hazards and consequences of aiming low until it's too late. We sense that keeping moving is getting more and more difficult, but don't connect it to the almost imperceptibly slow increase of the weight on our backs. We don't notice the creeping dampness on our skin. We just realize, suddenly, that our toes are dragging through the waves instead of clearing them and that we're chilled to the bone. And at that point, the only way to save ourselves is to put all of our remaining effort into flying as high as we can. We need to risk the heat of the sun in order to dry our wings and warm ourselves so that we have the energy to try again to find the proper balance between the dangers of both extremes.
I need to stay aware of where in the sky I'm flying, choose my altitude consciously, and fight my tendency to just let myself glide. Remember: all glides are downward, and if you just let them happen they all end the same way.