Turn the air up.
The request came from the back seat of my car.
I was only driving down the road with some friends in tow. But we were all getting roasted by the June heat.
Staring down at the temperature gauge, I noticed that the fan was at its highest setting and the air conditioning was on. But the air blowing through the vents was not cold. At all.
I sighed. A trip to the mechanic awaited me.
A couple of days after this incident, I got the verdict from a local mechanic.
The car’s AC system was fine. But the unit that brought the cold air into the cabin would need to be replaced. And that repair would run $800.
I was still early in my career, and I wasn’t prepared to absorb such a hefty charge on my credit card. But it was summertime in Texas. A hot car would quickly become unbearable – even deadly.
I called my parents for advice. I figured they could speak with their local mechanic and see if I was getting ripped off.
But my father’s response caught me off guard.
Why don’t you trade in the car and get a new one?
I replied that I couldn’t afford a new car. If an $800 repair was outside my price range, a $25,000 purchase certainly would be.
My father laughed. I could finance the new vehicle, he said – committing to modest monthly payments over several years. It would make more sense than pouring money into repairs.
His reasoning won me over. But my exuberance quickly gave way to fear when I realized I’d need to set foot in a car dealership.
Our family had made a disastrous trip to a car dealership when I was young. We were literally held hostage by the sales staff until my father threatened to call the police. And I didn’t want to get trapped like that again.
So, I dug into online research on vehicle models, features, and prices. I set a budget and checked the inventory at multiple dealerships. Then, I took a deep breath and headed out to those dealerships for test drives.
The advanced research served me well. I was able to see through sales tricks and smoke screens. And I successfully walked out of three dealerships that couldn’t provide what I was looking for.
But when I found my desired vehicle at the fourth one and agreed to buy it, I found myself in a small office facing a finance manager. And suddenly, I was getting sold again.
I know you said your budget is fixed. But you should really consider getting the version with leather seats. Oh, and an extended warranty.
I was fully unprepared for this development. Still, my instincts served me well. And I firmly declined all the upsell pitches aside from one – gap insurance for the car loan.
I drove off the lot with a mix of euphoria and relief. I had survived.
And that was notable.
Back in ancient times, a scandal enveloped the shores of the Aegean Sea.
Prince Paris of Troy wooed Helen of Sparta, stealing away with her across the sea. Enraged, Helen’s husband – King Menelaus – convened an army of Greek soldiers and set out to fight the Trojans.
The city of Troy had prepared itself for battle. And after days of fighting, the Greeks had failed to gain any ground.
So, their army turned away from the shoreline, leaving just a giant wooden statue of a horse in their stead.
The Trojans, seemingly victorious, exalted. And they brought the wooden horse inside their city walls.
But as night fell, a company of Greek soldiers emerged from the woodwork. They incapacitated the Trojan guards, sabotaged the city’s defenses, and signaled for the rest of the army – who were hidden just out of sight – to return. The Greek forces quickly laid waste to Troy.
This cautionary tale – made famous in Homer’s Iliad – has spawned its own term.
The Trojan Horse Effect.
This effect is what happens when we fail to remain vigilant. It illustrates the cost of letting our guard down.
If the Trojans had been just a bit more skeptical of the Greeks’ quick retreat, they would likely have survived. And if they had burned the wooden horse, they would have claimed a true victory, rather than set the table for a catastrophic defeat.
The lesson from all this is clear. We must prepare for a wide range of outcomes, never letting the finest details slip from our grasp. We must expect the unexpected.
But how exactly can we do that? After all, the unexpected – by nature – is something that’s impossible to prepare for.
It’s a question with no definitive answer. And yet, I might have found the path forward.
If you ask most football fans what the most important position on the gridiron is, they’ll likely point to the quarterback.
Those are the players who orchestrate the offense. And they handle the ball in some fashion on nearly every play.
There are many traits that define good quarterback play. But those traits can generally be boiled down to three words: Read and react.
Before a play starts, a quarterback must be able to read the defensive alignment and properly react to what their opponent is trying to do. The same is true when the play is in motion.
The best quarterbacks are masterful at this. As such, they never appear flustered or unprepared. Even when the unexpected occurs, they can meet the moment.
I believe that these principles can hold true off the field as well. In fact, the read and react protocol is essential in navigating the morass of expectation.
I certainly wasn’t prepared for my car’s climate control unit to fail on that hot summer day. And when I definitely wasn’t prepared to re-negotiate an agreement for a new vehicle in a dealership finance office.
But thanks to my preparation and my instincts, I was able to read and react with aplomb. And I navigated the turbulent waters of the unexpected without catastrophe.
These same principles can apply to all of us. Indeed, they must.
For the world is becoming a less predictable place by the day. And the unexpected is around every turn.
We can’t bury our heads in the sand in the wake of the unfamiliar. But we can’t let deviations from our expectations destroy us either.
So, let’s commit to reading and reacting. Let’s seek to prepare for the unpreparable. And let’s expect the unexpected, to the degree that we can.
We’ll be better for it.