Innovation Conundrum

innovation

L.P. Draper and A.H. Kirkendal started the ride-sharing service in Los Angeles. This was in 1914. Long before Uber and Travis Kalanick were born.

First electric vehicles came to market in 1880s. In 1890s, the demand exceeded that of gasoline powered cars. Long before Toyota released Prius, before Tesla and Elon Musk became a household name.

Door delivery services have existed in third-world countries for years. Long before Tony Xu and DoorDash and similar services came to  exist.

Conventional wisdom teaches us innovation means unique ideas. But often times, inspiration for new ideas and solutions, lie in the past. Many technology advances we celebrate today are extensions of history. Take a hard look at Facebook and Twitter.

In order to be innovative, we tend to think optics are more important. We spend our time and energy trying to look different, like most teenagers in the world.

When you look at any innovation, or for that matter any accomplishment, through a narrow slice of time, it looks unique. Popular culture have long led us to believe that. Reality is, successful innovators have always used history as their playbook. The world rewarded them for failing repeatedly, learning, persisting and solving. More than who just dreamed.

Flawless for billions of years, the universe has given everything you need to survive, create and solve.

The thing is, you have to care to look.

The Scout In Us

Like boy scouts we are driven by badges. Our lives are filled with badges.

I got my MBA. I’m married. Husband. Father.

Ran 5k.  Ran a Marathon.

Manager.  Sr. Manager.  Director.

We aspire to collect as many badges as possible.  It’s a great motivational tool.  It inspires us.  Drives us to work hard.

Winning a badge doesn’t mean much if there isn’t a sash to display them.

Family get togethers were a good sash.  Bumper stickers that says “My child is a honor student” are a good sash.  Facebook is the latest sash.

Problem is, in our quest for the next badge we forget our obligations with the current badge.  We become helicopter parents.  We start to coast at work.  We don’t realize why we got the badge. Ultimately we fail to cherish what we have.

While it’s important to strive for the next badge, it’s more important not to lose what you have.

For one, not too many have what you have in the first place.  Ask any cub scout.