“Most of the time we’re just trying not to go backwards”
Tonight I continued reading Jacinda Ardern’s A Different Kind of Power. She’s sharing stories about discovering her passion for debating, and one motion from her formative years just won’t leave my mind:
“That the difference between what we are and what we could be is the greatest waste.”
Oof. This has weaselled its way into my brain. I soon found myself drawing a line down the middle of the page, listing arguments FOR and AGAINST.
FOR the motion: that difference IS the greatest waste.
Unrealised potential is a loss. Innovation and creation are what drive us forward. When we’re constrained by fear, loss or habit, something precious goes untapped or unused. Imagining what could be can give us direction, purpose and a way to use limited resources well.
Failing to learn is its own form of waste. When we don’t learn from what we are and where we’ve come from, individuals, communities, systems can repeat patterns that limit us. The gap here is not always about imagining something new, but about creating the time and space to integrate what we already know.
Not all things are good as they are, and the distance to what we could be is often shaped by opportunity and circumstance of individuals and communities. Narrowing this gap can be the fair and right thing to do, improving people’s experiences, days and lives.
AGAINST the motion: that difference IS NOT the greatest waste
The present has value. Focusing on the future can pull attention and energy away from what already exists. It can create the assumption that we must maximise effort and accelerate towards full potential. Choosing where to place our effort matters.
Endless “could be’s” can be corrosive. We can become impatient, dissatisfied and demanding. Always reaching for more can distort judgement and erode appreciation for what already is.
Not all problems can be ‘fixed’ by effort. Some constraints are structural, societal or cultural. Naming this transition as “waste” can leave little space for humanity, curiosity and the long, uneven work that real change often asks of us.
Reading down the FOR and AGAINST lists, I found myself thinking that I landed somewhere in the middle.
In my 20s I was firmly FOR: ambition, optimisation and growth. As I entered in my 30s, I found myself grieving what felt like a loss of that ambition.
Around that time, I remember one of our clients, Laura, a chief executive, who offered me feedback I’ve returned to many times since.
She held her left hand up. “We’re here.”
She extended her right hand as far as she could reach in the other direction, “and you’re here, Sam. You’re imagining the possibilities and wanting us to be further on than is possible now.”
And she moved her left hand back slightly. “Most of the time we’re just trying not to go backwards.”
She brought her right hand in closer. “If you can help us move a few steps forward, that’s incredible. If you can help us stay where we are, despite the pressure, that matters too.”
She paused.
“I’m not saying to lose the dream. It’s what makes you, you. But for this project, do what’s in your name: spark the difference. Help us move a little further forward.”
Since then, I’ve held that tension. And if I’m honest, I’ve grieved what I once thought was a loss of ambition.
Now in my 40s, I understand something more clearly: my energy and resources are finite. As they are across many public service systems. Priorities are real.
With the occasional (focused) dreaming session, or two.
Thinking Out Loud is where I share short pieces of thinking from the middle of the work. Ideas, questions and lived experiences, shared while they’re still forming. (Tiny Experiments Pact: Day 10/100).