Be Fearless

by Jean Case

  And Amazon has kept innovating, looking around corners to find new opportunities. When Jeff introduced the Kindle e-reader in 2007, there were hardly any ebooks—only 20,000 available for download. By the time the Kindle went on sale, Amazon had increased that to 90,000. Today there are more than 5 million ebooks available in Amazon’s Kindle store, and millions more on other platforms. And Amazon has gone on to disrupt in other arenas with its video streaming service and smart devices like Alexa populating households everywhere.

  Jeff Bezos’s story is well known, but there are countless others peeking around corners to make Big Bets every day. One of my favorites is Sarah Parcak, a National Geographic Fellow and the 2016 winner of the $1 million TED Prize. It was her job title, Space Archaeologist, that first drew me to her work. Her Twitter handle—@IndyFromSpace—only added to my interest. Sarah is a vibrant woman whose enthusiasm for her field is infectious. She uses the very latest technology to find some of the oldest structures on the planet, uncovering hidden cultural treasures that lie beneath the surface of our earth—antiquities that time and natural elements have buried, such as pyramids and temples. Thanks to Sarah, archaeologists, who usually set out for a dig with limited data to guide them, can now be directed to “hot spots” where antiquities are most likely to be found.

  Sarah credits her upbringing in Bangor, Maine, with providing the inspiration for her career. She recalls spending hours walking the beaches in search of sand dollars. “These shells are hard to find,” she says. “They are covered in sand and difficult to see. Over time I got used to looking for them. I started seeing shapes and patterns that helped me to collect them.” For Sarah, this digging developed into a skill for pattern recognition and grew into a passion for finding buried things. To date, her innovative use of satellite technology has led to the discovery of seventeen previously unknown pyramids.

  But Sarah’s dream doesn’t stop there. Her wish that won her the TED Prize is to engage people everywhere as “citizen scientists” in identifying and protecting sacred cultural sites that are threatened by those out to exploit or destroy them, such as ISIS or antiquities traffickers. Standing on the TED stage, she declared: “Archaeologists are the cultural memory preservers and the cultural spokespeople for the billions of people and thousands of cultures that came before us. I believe that there are millions of undiscovered archaeological sites left to find. Discovering them will do nothing less than unlock the full potential of our existence.”

  The urgent need to identify and protect ancient sites around the world served to motivate Sarah to think big. Knowing there are millions of sites to be found, Sarah understood that even a Herculean effort by the two hundred or so space archaeologists wouldn’t do much to impact the scale of the problem. Her big idea? Democratize archaeology and the search for ancient sites by creating and training a twenty-first-century army of global explorers. She would use her TED Prize money to build an online, crowdsourced, citizen scientist–based platform that would give citizens all over the world the chance to examine and identify hidden sites. This “big data” approach has served to unleash a global explorer revolution, with citizens exploring millions of small “tiles” or squares of territory photographed from space, identifying tens of thousands of potential ancient sites and features in multiple countries. Among the most prolific contributors is a woman in her nineties whose passion for archaeology was born when she and her husband dug up a fossil in their backyard in the 1950s—which goes to show that anyone from anywhere has something to contribute in helping to preserve cultural heritage worldwide.

  As this chapter demonstrates, many Big Bets happen as a result of either watching where trends are headed or deciding to start a new one. And while there is no such thing as a crystal ball, many Big Bets were executed because someone boldly envisioned a different future—one not yet seen by others—and pursued it. What kind of world do you want to see? What kind of future do you want to build? The key is tuning out those who don’t share your vision and persevering toward your goal.

  FIVE

  NOW GO, MAKE YOUR BIG BET

  One day in high school I was walking with my headmaster, who’d asked what progress I’d made toward a certain goal. “I just can’t seem to find the time to get it done,” I said a bit sheepishly. He stopped, looked me in the eye, and replied, “You don’t wait to find the time for what is important. You make the time for things that matter.” It’s a lesson I carry with me to this day, using my calendar to reflect what really matters.

  Do you have a Big Bet for your personal or professional life? Decisions you make today can affect what happens down the road. The relationships you build, your professional affiliations, even how you spend your personal time all add up to a significant investment. So the question is, to what end? It’s easy to get carried along without stopping to check if your path is leading you closer to your goals.

  The Parkland high school students went to class one day, thinking about tests and graduation, only to be jolted from their ordinary lives by a mass shooting. They weren’t ready—who can possibly be ready for something like that? But many of them took this tragedy as an opportunity to make desperately needed change. Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia had few resources to put behind any kind of bet, much less a big one. But when a problem needed solving, they built a solution from the ground up—literally, from an air mattress on the floor. Sara Blakely started with nothing but an idea and $5,000, but she had the tenacity to do the legwork (pardon the pun) that got Spanx in production. Jeff Bezos was watching trends, taking a cue from hockey great Wayne Gretzky, who spoke of watching “where the puck is going, not where it is.”

  How will you begin?

  What would it mean for you to think futuristically, to refuse to accept life’s presumed default positions? There are plenty of examples of people who have done just that, to great effect. Driverless cars seemed like science fiction when they were first proposed, but today they’re on the horizon, as are drone delivery services. We can easily see a future without television sets and landlines. We can imagine clean water delivery systems, clean fuel technologies, and sources of food that have yet to be invented. Think about what that means for you, starting where you are. What yet-imagined future can you be a part of creating?

  “The best way to predict the future is to create it.” This quote is variously credited to Abraham Lincoln and management guru Peter Drucker. Whomever the source, the sentiment is a worthy one. Once you have a Big Bet, get to work. Define your objective, and then chunk it down into manageable parts. Every big idea starts with a first step forward. Then, when you know where you’re headed, plant your flag. Consider how many audacious achievements can be tracked back to the moment a promise was made. When President Kennedy said, “We choose to go to the moon in this decade,” the goal became real. I once spoke to an audience about JFK’s moonshot promise, and an astronaut’s wife in the room pointed out that when Kennedy talked about sending a man into space, he also said, “then return [him] safely to earth.” That was a big part of Kennedy’s bet too. What will be your moonshot? And how will you ground it in reality?

  To make a Big Bet, steadily focus on your true north: the goals that propel you forward. For me, it has always been working to empower others. The true north will be your guiding light. It never changes. It’s not about a job or any one endeavor. But it will always lead you where you need to go.

  When I look at the changemakers featured in this section, I see people seeking a world that’s different from ours in some significant way. For Barbara Van Dahlen, it’s a place warriors can come home to support and safety. For Rachel Sumekh, it’s one where no college student goes hungry. For Astro Teller, it’s a world where technology can be harnessed to solve “impossible” problems. For the Parkland students, it’s a world with communities where kids’ lives matter more than guns. For Eunice Shriver, it’s a world where having a disability can’t stop you from winning.

  What stands out to me most about many of t
hese individuals is how they come from all walks of life. Many of them are everyday people like you and me—people whose most distinguishing feature is their passion for a dream they were determined to make come true.

  PART TWO

  BE BOLD, TAKE RISKS

  * * *

  Get uncomfortable

  Embrace risk as R&D

  Pick up where others left off

  Risk or regret

  Now go, find the “courage zone”

  SIX

  GET UNCOMFORTABLE

  I steadied myself at the top of the telephone pole and looked down at the instructor thirty feet below. “I don’t think I can do this,” I shouted, with frustration and embarrassment. I had signed up for this adventure as part of an Outward Bound–type exercise. There were six of us in the group, and when the instructor had asked one of us to volunteer to go first, I’d raised my hand. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  The goal of the exercise was to climb thirty feet up to the top, and then walk another thirty feet across a pole laid out horizontally to the telephone pole on the opposite side. The adventure was called Out on a Limb, and that’s exactly how I felt. I’d been standing at the top of the first pole for several minutes, my heart racing and my legs shaking, as my five teammates gaped up at me. Although I was secured in a harness, the thought of taking that first step onto the narrow horizontal pole had me frozen. “I really don’t think I can do this,” I said again, pushing back tears.

  “But you can try,” said the instructor, four words that would honestly change my life—or at least my perspective—in the years to come. I could try. If I failed or if I fell, so what? I was attached with a safety harness. But I didn’t want to be the person who gave up and climbed down. I wanted to face my fear and own whatever the outcome would be.

  So I took that first step out onto the pole, and then another, and another. Slowly, and with some wobbling, I proceeded along the pole. About a third of the way across I began to lose my balance. Just then I heard a voice from below: “You’ve got this! Stay focused! Keep going!” I stopped and steadied myself. Standing in midair with the nearest thing to cling to at least ten feet away, I took a deep breath and continued on across the pole. In some ways those steps—continuing on after a stumble—felt almost more challenging than the very first steps. I kept going, allowing myself only the briefest pause to touch the opposite pole before I turned around to retrace my steps. When my hands finally grasped the pole I had climbed, a cheer erupted from below. Everyone applauded and called out words of praise as I descended back to the ground.

  With legs that were still shaking, I removed the harness and turned my attention to the remaining five who would follow in my footsteps. When we had all completed the exercise, we came together in a circle and talked about the experience.

  At one point, the instructor eyed me with interest. “What was happening up there, Jean?” she asked. “What were you feeling?” I admitted that I’d felt scared. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it. Then she asked me a question no one had ever asked me before: “Do you think you have mostly chosen to pursue things you know you will be good at in life?” Whoa. I had never considered this; but upon reflection I realized that, yes indeed, I mostly had. My successes had typically come in areas where I had some degree of comfort and confidence. “Is there anything you’ve wanted to do but kept yourself from trying because you feared you wouldn’t be good at it?” the instructor asked. I sat there for a long moment, considering. She suggested, “Why don’t you make a list of things you’ve always thought about doing but resisted because of a fear you wouldn’t excel.”

  When I returned to my room, I did make a list. It was fairly short, but I was still surprised to realize that I had grown so uncomfortable with risk. And while I didn’t know it then, that list was the beginning of a new way of living—one that would bring me much more satisfaction and joy.

  More than a decade after that day out on a limb, I experience a greater richness to life because I now deliberately take on endeavors that I’m not certain I can achieve. Yes, there have been disappointments, but they’ve been offset by my pride at not giving in to fear. It’s been exhilarating to try such new things: mountain climbing, Tae Kwon Do, scuba diving with sharks, walking on sea ice in Antarctica. More vital than the physical risks, though, is the awareness, now infused through my life and work, that the moment I get comfortable is the moment I need to shift direction.

  Perhaps there are fears holding you back from being bold or taking risks or simply trying something new. Like me, I hope you can find inspiration from the stories in the pages to come of people who took bold risks to achieve the extraordinary. These stories make clear that what separates fearless individuals from everyone else is not the absence of fear, but their ability to overcome it. President Jimmy Carter once said, “Go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.” Let these stories encourage you to embrace risk and enjoy the fruit of your new, bold efforts.

  I have always been attracted to stories about great explorers, and becoming Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the National Geographic Society introduced me to so many new people who have put it all on the line to open the world for us all. I was particularly inspired by a woman named Eliza Scidmore, who had preceded me by more than a century as the first female board member of the National Geographic Society in 1892. I felt such a bond with Eliza. She too was a child of America’s heartland, born in the Midwest in 1856. And Eliza’s mother, like mine, wanted more for herself and for her children. Separated from her husband, she moved with her two children to Washington, DC, where she ran a boardinghouse. In the bustling capital, Eliza felt her world expand. She was surrounded by diplomats, politicians, and military leaders, many of them returned from travel to faraway places, who spoke of beauty and adventure. These stories instilled in Eliza a fascination with geography, and she spent long hours poring over maps. “Travel must have been born in me, like the original sin,” she told an interviewer in 1890. “My daydreams were always of other countries.”

  In Eliza’s time, any independent travel was difficult for a single woman, much less adventures to the uncharted places Eliza longed to visit. But she was determined, and so she found a very clever way of getting what she wanted. After graduating from Oberlin College at the age of nineteen, she began a career as a journalist, often going by the name E. R. Scidmore to disguise her gender. Soon “Mr.” Scidmore became wildly popular, earning Eliza enough money to fund her journalistic pursuits. Her first great journey was as a passenger on a steamship to the wild frontiers of Alaska, where she chronicled the stories of the local tribes and the first white settlers, and wrote of the majesty of the unspoiled lands. In 1885, she published the first travel guide to the region, nearly seventy-five years before Alaska became the forty-ninth US state.

  Accompanying her brother, who served in the US consulate in Japan, Eliza traveled widely in the Far East, sending her impressions back home in vivid accounts. In 1890, she joined the newly founded National Geographic Society, becoming the first female writer and photographer for its magazine. Eliza’s globe-trotting took her to India, China, Java (now Indonesia), Korea, Russia, and beyond, her contributions helping establish National Geographic’s reputation for covering the nature and people of unknown places. She was an explorer at a time when a woman’s place was “supposed” to be in the home.

  It was on her first visit to Japan that Eliza saw what she would later call “the most beautiful thing in the world”—Japanese cherry blossom trees. She became convinced that these beautiful, delicate blooms could do much to add elegance to her own nation’s capital and began to use her growing influence to champion the planting of Japanese cherry blossom trees around the “muddy and unattractive” Tidal Basin in Washington. It took her twenty years to see it happen, but she and First Lady Helen Taft pushed ahead with their plans. After officials from the US and Japan got wind of their ambitions, the idea caught on and gained momentum. In 1910, the first gift of two thousand tre
es was received from the Japanese government. Today these trees are synonymous with springtime in Washington, Eliza’s perennial imprint on our world.

  “It’s your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.”

  —RUMI

  History is rich with stories of explorers we can use as models for our own ventures—like Sir Ernest Shackleton, whose leadership throughout his famous expedition to make the first transcontinental journey across Antarctica is legendary. When his ship was just a day’s sail away from the continent, the pack ice floating in the frozen sea closed in around the Endurance, forbidding any movement. For months Shackleton and his men survived on the ship, using military-style discipline to keep order and divide the tasks that were necessary to keep them alive. When the Endurance was at last crushed by the ice, it happened slowly and with enough warning from the initial eerie creaking of the wood that Shackleton was able to rally his men and salvage lifeboats, which they dragged across the ice toward the open sea. Their plan: to journey hundreds of miles through one of the world’s most hostile stretches of ocean.

  Miraculously, the crew made it to Elephant Island, where a base camp was set up. But Shackleton knew that rescue would not likely come if the men remained, so with a crew of five he set out again in the small wooden boat through dangerous waters for South Georgia Island, hundreds of miles away. Upon reaching South Georgia Island, he faced a perilous climb over icy mountain ridges, but thoughts of his men awaiting rescue back on Elephant Island drove him on. At last, Shackleton came upon an outpost where he made arrangements for a rescue of his crew. All survived the harrowing adventure.