Flights Of Fancy
Feeling cranky about air travel? Get a grip.
Not on the arm of your passenger seat--on reality, history, and
the incredible accomplishment of human flight.
We've just celebrated the 100th anniversary of the Wright
brothers' historic flight at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.
Although there werecertainly others who were experimenting with
flying machines--most notably, Alberto Santos-Dumont, a
Brazilian who is widely celebrated in his native country as
being the father of aviation--the Wright Brothers are generally
regarded as the first to get humans off the ground.
The fascinating thing about the Wright brothers is that they
were not the idealistic dreamers you might expect them to be.
They were serious, studious, and determined to figure things
out. It wasn't that they were obsessed with the dream of soaring
high above the ground. They were mechanically-inclined brothers
who owned a bicycle shop, and they couldn't forget the brief but
exciting flight of a cheap toy airplane they'd received as
children. They were intrigued by the engineering challenge.
Let's just say it--they were geeks. Good thing. Like geeks
everywhere, they dug in, immersing themselves in their research.
By following their hunch and testing the heck out of it, they
found the key component that enabled them to create that first
flying hunk of wood, fabric and wire capable of carrying a man
and--key point here--landing without crashing.
The Wright brothers had the same access to records of tried and
failed attempts at flight as all other would-be aviators of the
time. They studied birds, they analyzed physics properties, and
they built wind tunnels--just like everyone else. Sure, it was
their dogged persistence that led them to success, but there was
something else that really helped them nail it. They took one
piece of the puzzle and worked relentlessly to decipher it.
Instead of focusing on the force needed to lift the contraption,
or the engine required to power it, they zeroed in on the
concept of control. No sense having a great flight only to crash
into the trees after a few moments of jubilation. It was the
issue of control that captured their imagination and led to a
design featuring both maneuverability and safety.
But as focused as they were on directing the movement of the
flying machines, they failed to pay attention to the continued
testing and refinement of their ideas. They got distracted by
their efforts to control sales, and the research and development
division was left flapping in the breeze. While the Wrights got
caught up in patent struggles and contracts, adventurers around
the world were improving on their original design and savvy
businessmen were building airplanes, airports and flight
schools. By 1912, Wilbur had died and Orville was losing
interest in flying.
Meanwhile, Santos-Dumont continued his passion for being
airborne. He is credited with launching the first public flight
as well as designing the first hydroplane. He zipped around
Europe, flying to fashionable restaurants and parking his plane
out front, right next to the tethered horses. Where the Wrights
were methodical and diligent, Santos-Dumont was a flashy man
about town known for his daring and his sense of style. He cut a
dashing figure and inspired everyone from fashion designers to
engineers. His friend, Louis Cartier, created the first
wristwatch for him after Santos-Dumont expressed a need to keep
track of time while busily flying his plane.
Santos-Dumont didn't give a rip about patents. Instead of
spending his time and money on protecting his designs, he freely
offered his ideas to anyone interested in copying and improving
them. He engaged in the shareware idea: take this, go forth and
prosper. We've seen this approach in software (Linux) and
hybrid-electric cars (Hunter and Amory Lovins), and though it
rarely leads to great wealth for the creators, it dramatically
facilitates access and ingenuity.
After years of flying high, Santos-Dumont suffered from ill
health and committed suicide in 1932. I guess neither
engineering talent nor courageous individualism guarantees a
happy ending. The Wrights ran out of passion, and Santos-Dumont
lost his mojo. In their own ways, they simply burned out.
It's interesting to think about how we need both the plodding
perseverance of the Wrights and the free-thinking generosity of
Santos-Dumont in every project we undertake. The greatest
invention in the world will never capture the excitement of the
population without those who are fearless in their attempts to
apply it. Those who create the buzz are admittedly standing on
the shoulders of those who quietly developed the technology, but
we must have both to bring out the eagerness of the early
adopters and the cultural change that hinges upon the mainstream
acceptance of any new idea.
Bill Gates, that geek extraordinaire, has said: "The Wright
brothers created the single greatest cultural force since the
invention of writing. The airplane became the first world wide
web, bringing people of different languages, ideas and values
together."
The next time you're slogging through security, struggling to
put your bag in the overhead compartment, or grousing about the
leg room, pause a moment to reflect on the enormity of human
flight. Recognize it for the magnificent achievement that it is,
and pay tribute to those who lived and died for its creation.
Appreciate the risk taking required in the last century to get
you that window seat.
Please remain seated until the aircraft comes to a complete
stop, and whisper words of gratitude to the Wright brothers for
their determination in discovering what it takes to make a safe
landing.
You may now move freely about the cabin. Please refrain from
complaining.
Thank you for flying for us, Wilbur and Orville.