Think Like a Rocket Scientist

It took Dyson fifteen years and 5,126 prototypes to get his revolutionary bagless vacuum to work.

“Experiments are by their very nature prone to failure,” Jeff Bezos

It’s one thing to acknowledge that failure is an option. But it’s something else entirely to celebrate it. To take the sting and shame out of failure, Silicon Valley overcorrected. The pendulum swung too far in the other direction.

When entrepreneurs are too busy failing fast and celebrating it, they stop learning from their mistakes.

When we fail, we’re often none the wiser.

When we fail, we often conceal it, distort it, or deny it. We make the facts fit our self-serving theory rather than adjust the theory to fit the facts.

If we don’t acknowledge we failed—if we avoid a true reckoning—we can’t learn anything.

If we don’t acknowledge we failed—if we avoid a true reckoning—we can’t learn anything. In fact, failure can make things worse if we get the wrong messages from

If we don’t acknowledge we failed—if we avoid a true reckoning—we can’t learn anything. In fact, failure can make things worse if we get the wrong messages from it.

Here’s what most people get wrong about persistence. Persistence doesn’t mean repeatedly doing what’s failing.

Persistence doesn’t mean repeatedly doing what’s failing.

The goal isn’t to fail fast. It’s to learn fast. We should be celebrating the lessons from failure—not failure itself.

Each failure proved to be an invaluable learning opportunity. Each failure revealed a flaw that required correction. Each failure was followed by progress toward the ultimate goal. Although these failures took their toll on us, we couldn’t have landed safely on Mars without them.

Failure is data—and it’s often data you can’t find in a self-help book. Intelligent failures, if you pay them proper attention, can be the best teachers.

“intelligent failures.” They happen when you’re exploring the edges, solving problems that haven’t been solved, and building things that may not work.

Breakthroughs are often evolutionary, not revolutionary.

For scientists, each iteration is progress. If we get a glimpse into the dark room, that’s a contribution. If we don’t find what we thought we’d find, that’s a contribution. If we change a single unknown unknown to a known unknown, that’s a contribution. If we ask a better question than the ones asked before, that’s a contribution, even if the answers elude us.

Changing the world one problem at a time requires delaying gratification.

If we engage in resulting, we reward bad decisions that lead to good outcomes. Conversely, we change good decisions merely because they produced a bad outcome.

“Failure hovers uncomfortably close to greatness,” wrote James Watson,