As I made my way through the cavern, I felt something hit my left shoulder.
It was cold, wet, and gray. And it was now sitting on my favorite shirt.
With an exasperated sigh, I moved to rid myself of the moisture. But as I did, my father cautioned me.
Don’t be so quick to wipe it away. That’s history in the making.
Indeed, the cavern we were traversing was formed by actions like this. The slow drip by drip of water eating away at a limestone core — over millions of years.
This all happened out of sight and out of mind. That is, until an intrepid explorer discovered the cavern this process had created.
That nearly finished product was what we were now witnessing. Its promise had lured us off the highway and compelled us to pay an exorbitant entrance fee. Its grandiosity was the selling point.
The methodical path the cavern took to this moment was hardly worth noting.
But perhaps it should have been.
On January 9, 2007, Steve Jobs stepped onto the stage at the MacWorld Conference in San Francisco.
The Apple co-founder quickly rattled through some of the company’s greatest innovations – the Macintosh and the iPod. Then, roughly two minutes later, he introduced the iPhone.
Some have called this moment transformative. They’ve framed it as a moment where the world as we knew it ceased, and better future entered the fray. A future driven by a breakthrough piece of technology.
There is some truth undergirding these claims. Smartphones have changed the ways we work, shop, socialize, and interact. And the iPhone will always be considered the original smartphone.
But make no mistake. Its launch was no moonshot. It was a master class in incrementalism.
Long before Jobs took the stage, iPhone components were in our hands. Plenty of people had cell phones. Many had portable music players as well. And Internet on the go wasn’t exactly scarce — assuming you had a laptop computer.
Some devices — like the Palm Pilot and the Blackberry — had already brought a couple of these features together. No one had offered the full enchilada, but the groundwork was certainly there.
The iPhone, then, was a next step in the cycle. A sleek, fancy next step. But a next step, nonetheless.
Jobs’ own presentation made mention of this. He first told the audience that Apple would be unveiling three products – a widescreen iPod, a mobile phone, and an Internet browser. Then, he mentioned that those three products would actually be one product.
This is how the iPhone made its debut. As incrementalism defined.
We’ve come a long way since the launch of the iPhone.
Technology has evolved. Apple has grown. Steve Jobs has left us.
And yet, we continue to delude ourselves.
We remain fascinated by the mirage of sudden breakthroughs. And we willfully ignore the incremental work that makes them happen.
The instant gratification, the quick fix, the answered prayer — they’re all big parts our lexicon. The gradual build-up is not.
This baffles me.
It’s no secret that the world around is evolving, just as our bodies and our minds are evolving. Why are we so tempted to hit Pause and Fast Forward on that process? Why can’t we let the process play out as it is?
Are we lazy? Fearful of boredom? Overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all?
I don’t know. But it’s time we say goodbye to this nonsense. It’s time to give incrementalism its due.
On the second day of my professional life, I strutted into the newsroom at a West Texas television station.
Day 1 had been a whirlwind, filled with onboarding and training. But now, it was Go Time.
Hopped up on adrenaline, I was ready to spend hours putting together the 5 PM newscast.
But it was a summer Friday in a small town. Action was light, and the newscast was fully assembled within 40 minutes. There’d be plenty of time to kill before 5 PM rolled around.
My co-workers started talking about their weekend plans. As the new guy in town, I had none. So, I started daydreaming about my future.
I thought about where I’d be in a month and in a year. I imagined that one day between now and then, everything would just click. The hard times would be over, and the fear buried beneath my bravado would evaporate.
It’s been close to 15 years since that moment. And none of what I imagined has come to pass.
I’ve made a ton of progress — both professionally and personally. I’ve established myself in a different career and put myself on a footing to live comfortably. I’ve made new friends, mastered new hobbies, and gained new competencies.
But none of this happened overnight. There was no breakthrough moment when everything just fell into place.
There was just a long, slow march.
Incrementalism has been the drumbeat of my life. And I’m better for it.
For it has allowed me to build, to grow, to iterate. It’s kept my gains from being unsustainable. It’s kept my mistakes from being catastrophic.
Accepting this subtlety has been critical. It’s helped me commit to better without obsessing over the goalposts. It’s allowed me to embrace the journey even more than the destination.
The future is uncertain, and anxiety is inherent in uncertainty. But incrementalism has gotten me here. And I’m confident it will help drive me forward.
Eight years ago this week, I did something bold.
I established the publication now known as Ember Trace. And I published my first article.
This was as close to a breakthrough moment as I’ve had in my life. Ember Trace seemingly appeared on the Internet out of thin air. (In reality, I took some steps behind the scenes to make it happen.)
And that first article — that first time shipping my words to the world — that was indeed a cathartic moment for me.
But every week since then, I’ve made a commitment. A commitment to share fresh words, fresh ideas, and fresh thoughts. Whether my week has been good or bad, slow or busy, I’ve taken the time to add a fresh article — for 418 weeks now.
This exercise in incrementalism has built Ember Trace into a bona fide publication. And it’s built me up as well.
There’s no question that the words shared here are crisper, deeper, and more polished than they were eight years ago. I have grown as a thinker and a writer. You, my dear audience, have grown as readers as well.
What a testament to the power of incrementalism this is. Week by week, we’ve built this structure together. It’s stronger and more profound that it’s ever been. And it only stands to get even stronger over time.
I am grateful for your support, for your time, and for your subtle embrace of the incremental. Let’s see what more we can build together, brick by brick.