The Story of The Wild Geese

How to fly in formation in unprecedented times.

Paul Bennett
4 min readMar 24, 2020

It is December 2017. I wrote:

“My New Year’s Resolutions this year are the same as they were last year: to use the complexity and swirl in the world as a source of inspiration, not just frustration. To look for light, joy, and optimism. To trust the inherent good in people. To be part of the renaissance that always follows the revolution. I’m keen for design to step up to the plate and take on topics such as inclusion, tolerance, equality, and masculinity. 2018 is a year of making change, not just wishing for it to happen.”

That was over two years ago. Here we are, standing at the plate.

Every day since then there’s been some kind of escalation — accelerating climate change, tension between globalism and nationalism, global poverty and inequality, the persistence of extremism, sexual violence, the crisis of power and parity in our systems, fake news, rising radicalism, the cheapening of leadership and above all else, our inability to trust anyone or anything anymore. We look on in horror as waves of refugees flee their respective countries, as waters drown some cities while fires ravish others, cried as koalas stand mutely in Australia while locusts plague Africa. And now, the worst fear, the biggest one yet, is here. We’re in the middle of a pandemic.

I’ve spent the best part of the last week like most of us, socially distanced at home, vacillating between news and friends, between catastrophe and cat videos. I’ve also been lucky enough to be connected to some people on the frontlines and to hear first-hand what they are doing and more importantly, how we can help.

I have always believed that renaissance follows revolution and that it is our job as a society right now and specifically our role as creative thinkers inside that society, to be both optimistic and pragmatic, to hold the light of possibility open and to believe that things will get better, whilst at the same time rolling up our sleeves and engaging first hand in ways to solve the problem. Spurred into action, we constructed and posted an open-source challenge and watched as colleagues, friends, partners and the world jumped in with ideas, inspiration and suggestions for ways to act, things to do, stuff that can happen now. Over 300 entries were submitted within the first 24 hours, and I am humbled by the unprecedented volume and speed of generosity.

It’s a tiny drop in the ocean, I know, but it was a potent signal for what I think we are all looking for — a glimmer of hope, a place to engage, a space to talk. Some of the most moving and hopeful stories came from China — the young doctor in Wuhan wheeling his elderly COVID-19 patient in his hospital bed on their way back from the patient’s lung scan to pause just for a few minutes to watch the sunset together — and from Africa, where regrettably people have lived through health pandemics such as Ebola and have experience of the lived behaviors many of us now need to learn. It is this kind of ground-up insight that I believe many of us need to listen to right now:

It is time. Time for individuals, companies and above all, governments, to step up to the plate. I urge governments to step up to lead, to listen, to act and above all, to look your citizens in the eyes and say: “We see you.” How people are treated — colleagues, employees, citizens, communities — is going to define each of us and our societies for the foreseeable future, and everyone is watching.

It is now. There is no time for politics, for strategy, for intellectualizing over frameworks and for complexity. Yes, serious times need serious consideration, but people want simple action, decisiveness and above all, to be part of the solution, to be asked, heard and included. They want to help, and it is all our jobs to ask them.

It is forever. What happens in literally the next few weeks will decide the fate of countries in their present tense and how they thrive and are seen by others in the future tense. Actions speak. Words and rhetoric are lost.

I want to end on a story. Months after Japan had been ravaged by the earthquake in 2011, subsequent tsunami and the impending nuclear reactor meltdown in Fukushima, I was asked to come to Tōhoku, the area most devastated, and speak about…something hopeful. I spoke about the behaviors of wild geese.

First and foremost, the wild goose is never alone, but part of a flock; they fly in formation and no goose is left behind. Second, by flapping their wings together, each bird creates uplift for the others, allowing them to fly longer distances. Third, when the lead goose gets tired, it drops back into the flock and allows another to lead. Lastly, and to me most poignantly, the geese in the back honk to motivate those in front to keep going.

Why did I share this? Because wild geese are a fundamentally collaborative species. They are interdependent, recognizing the need for each other’s presence and the desire to work together. Their rotating structure means they have resilience as a group, and everyone understands that they have an equal role to play. And by honking to motivate those in the front to keep going, they recognize that good leadership is held in encouragement as much as it is in direction setting.

I wonder if it is time for us all to fly together right now, to create uplift for each other, to each take our turn and to help everyone’s ideas come to the forefront. Above all, I think it is time for us all to flock together, so that we can all keep going. It is time. It is now. It is forever.

I am honking.

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