Skip to main content

The Pessimism Aversion Trap

In this episode, The Pessimism Aversion Trap

Picture this: a room full of bright minds nodding in agreement as a bold new strategy is unveiled. The slides are polished, the vision is grand, and the future, we're told, has never looked brighter. Everyone beams—because who wants to be the one to say, "Um… this might not work"? Heaven forbid someone spoil the mood with a dose of reality. Better to smile, add a buzzword or two, and march confidently toward disaster.

That's how the Pessimism Aversion Trap works.

Even now, I can still hear the sound—a high-pitched shriek and a digital hum, followed by the slow, rhythmic clatter of data pouring from a 5¼-inch floppy disk. It was the late 1980s, and my makeshift home office (our living room) was dominated by what felt like a marvel of modern engineering: a used Tandy 1000 PC with not one, but two floppy drives. To top it off, we purchased a 'blisteringly fast' 300-baud modem—which, for the uninitiated, could download an entire email in under ten minutes if the phone line didn't drop first.

Our Vice President of Education was convinced this was the future of learning. He ordered us to connect to a new Bulletin Board System (BBS), which meant enduring the shrieking handshake of the modem, the glacial drip of text across the screen, and the constant suspense of whether the system would freeze before you got anywhere interesting. Most colleagues smirked and wrote it off as a passing fad. I was one of the few brave (or gullible) souls who actually tried.

I'll admit, part of me was genuinely thrilled—watching words crawl across the screen felt like glimpsing a secret digital universe. But another part of me wondered if this was less "revolution in education" and more "expensive hobby for insomniacs." Still, voicing those doubts felt risky. It was easier to nod along with the vision than to risk being branded the pessimist.

That, I realized, is the core of the Pessimism Aversion Trap—the tendency to avoid sounding negative, even when realism is exactly what's needed.

It's easy to see why we fall into this trap. Our culture prizes optimism, encouraging us to "stay positive," "look on the bright side," and "believe in ourselves." And optimism is powerful—it fuels innovation, leadership, and courage. But if optimism becomes the only voice in the room, it crowds out the equally necessary voice of caution. Risks remain unspoken, blind spots unexamined.

The danger of this trap is clear. By avoiding pessimism, we don't prevent problems; we amplify them by pretending they don't exist. Yet, realism is not the enemy of hope—it's its guardian. Sometimes, the most constructive thing we can do is to ask, "What could go wrong?" so when we step forward, we do so wisely.

The messiness I worried about with that Tandy was a reality for decades. From its clunky start in the late 1980s to the rise of Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs) in the 2010s, online education was often seen as an imperfect substitute for in-person learning. Then, in early 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic changed everything.

It took more than 30 years from that first experiment to make online learning an actual, practical reality for millions of students and professionals. The technology and the cultural acceptance finally caught up because they were no longer a mere option, but a necessity.

Looking back, the digital revolution wasn't a smooth, triumphant launch. It was messy, full of fits and starts, and it demanded honest conversations about what wasn't working. The real magic wasn't just in the vision of a connected future—it was in the willingness to acknowledge the obstacles along the way.

So the next time you hesitate to speak up, remember that old Tandy 1000 and its screeching 300-baud modem. Progress doesn't come from pretending everything will work—it comes from the courage to name what might not, and then pressing forward anyway.

I'm Patrick Ball. This is On the Fly. Stay curious and ask questions. See you next time.

I've moved! Join me over at On the Fly for my latest writing.

Subscribe on Substack

Comments

Don Hanley said…
Good title but it lied - I didn't learn how to avoid pessimism. oh, i just learned a few more words to convince me i was just a dummy.

Most Popular of All Time

When Fear Becomes the Default

In this special episode, When Fear Becomes the Default. Early Sunday morning, I was cycling past a small veterans’ pocket park in San Marcos. The air was still, the streets nearly empty. On one corner stood a young woman, alone, holding a hand-painted sign that read: “Be ANGRY. ICE agents are murdering people.” I pedaled past, but the words stayed with me. I knew the context—the footage and headlines from Minneapolis the day before, already ricocheting through the country and hardening opinions. Even in the quiet of the ride, the noise followed. Two miles later, I stopped at a red light. A black car with dark windows pulled up inches from my bike. My heart jumped. My first instinct wasn’t neighbor —it was threat . I found myself bracing, scanning, and wondering if the person inside was angry, armed, or looking for trouble. Then the door opened. A well-dressed young woman stepped out, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a sign that read “Open House.” She turned, smiled brightly, and sa...

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is  for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Sweden Called . . . They Said No.

Have you ever wondered about  the Nobel Prize? Let's look at Where Genius Meets “Wait—Where’s My Medal?” Every October, the Nobel Prizes are announced, and humanity pauses to celebrate the "greatest benefit to mankind." And every year, like clockwork, a specific type of person appears online to complain—at length—that they were robbed. (Well, maybe this year more than most.) The Origin: A Legacy of Guilt The prize exists because Alfred Nobel, a Swedish inventor, had a crisis of conscience. Nobel held 355 patents, but he was most famous for inventing dynamite. When a French newspaper mistakenly published his obituary, calling him the " Merchant of Death, " he decided to buy a better legacy. In his 1895 will, he left the bulk of his massive fortune to establish five prizes (Physics, Chemistry, Medicine, Literature, and Peace). Because he was Swedish, he entrusted the selection to Swedish institutions, such as the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences. The only outlier...

On the Fly–Taking Flight

In this special 500th episode,  On the Fly  is moving to a new home. Here’s why—and what’s staying the same. For a very long time (since April 2012),  On the Fly  has lived on  Blogger . Blogger has been a reliable host—dependable, quiet, and never complaining when I arrived late with another half-baked idea, a guitar riff, or a story that needed a little air. It faithfully archived my thoughts, my music, and more than a decade of curiosity. But the internet has changed. It’s louder now. Flashier. More insistent. Every thought is nudged to perform. Every sentence wants to be optimized, monetized, or interrupted by something that really wants your attention right this second. I’ve been craving the opposite. So today, On the Fly is moving to Substack . If you’ve been with me for a while, you know my quiet obsession: the A rt of Seeing . I’m interested in the moments we rush past—the Aversion Trap, the discipline hidden inside a guitarist’s daily practice, t...