A Truck Full of Yogurt

When in driving school back in Italy, we had this instructor for theory that always had good stories for scenarios and situations we'd encounter on the road. For example, he would teach us about checking the oil levels in the car, telling us what to do about low levels. Then he would call on someone, ask them to evaluate a scenario - and lo-and-behold, the levels in the new scenario were high. Now what?

The idea was that we needed to be prepared for every kind of occurrence, and be able to solve problems that came along the way. That's where I learned about the story about a truck full of yogurt I'd like to tell you today.

Imagine this thick fog like the one we have that in our neck of the woods (near Modena, Italy) in the Fall. It's so thick that you can barely see in front of your toes sometimes. If you're driving, forget the toes, and try to see the road.

As you know, Italian drivers are famous for not wanting to slow down on the highway - or anywhere. It's a cultural thing but only behind the wheel. In front of a good meal with friends, we can spend hours. Back to the road. 

There's this long line of cars on the highway. Each driver is following the one in front. Each going at a certain pace to not lose sight of the red lights cast by the other in front. Not too slow, yet not too fast, wither - the objective is to follow, not pass. It takes incredible discipline.

Now let's go and take a look at the guy at the front of the line. His eyes are bloodshot and he's weary. He's been staring out in the fog finding a way. He's been leading the long line for a while, and he's starting to show visible signs that he's giving up. It's hard work seeing through the fog and nobody is passing him, even as he slows down.

Then there's a phenomenon. He comes out of nowhere - you can't really see way back anyway. He's a force of nature. A guy who's so smart, so clever, so together, that he sees through the fog. He doesn't need to follow the long line of cars, no Sir. He can just pass everyone at breakneck speed. So he does. You can almost see him waving, can't you?

Everyone sees him zoom past. The guy in the front, eyes wide open, sees him, too in his rear view mirror. With a sight of relief, as soon as he is surpassed, he accelerates to keep up. Now he can follow someone else. He doesn't have to lead anymore, and welcomes the respite. Off they all accelerate to keep up with the new guy in front.

Imagine now that a little while later, the guy at the front leading the pack all of a sudden slams into a truck full of yogurt that sits across the highway. Splashes of yogurt everywhere. He simply missed the wide, white structure in the fog. Everyone else slams into the car they have in front, just like a perfect domino. What a mess!

Figuratively, nothing bad happens to anyone, just lots of yogurt everywhere and car damages. It was a story, remember?

One that stayed with me for many reasons. Over the years, I've given it new meaning, depending on my context at any point in time. Our lives, too are a journey. And sometimes there is thick fog in front of us that prevents visibility. What's going on in the minds of the drivers? What do you think? My take:

1. The guy who thinks he can see through the fog is smart up until the point in the story when he hits the truck full of yogurt at top speed.

2. The long line of people following the lead made me think about how many times we prefer to follow someone else's lead. Until we lose sight of why they changed speed or course. Afterward, there's probably a lot of splashes of yogurt going on.

3. The driver up front who makes the effort for everyone probably ends up getting what he wanted - someone to follow, at a different speed - one that would probably need some testing.

4. When everyone realizes what is happening it's already late to put on brakes.

5. The truck full of yogurt was across the highway for a reason. The driver must have also been trying to get home faster, or deliver sooner.

6. Somehow I imagined each driver alone in their cars - with the others on the road as the only company. Stuff going on in their isolated heads - a day ending, expectations, desire, mental computations.

7. A thick fog makes for difficult conditions. When the context is tricky, you want to take special measures to come out alright. Sometimes experience is no help. We think we remember, or we navigated a turn successfully in the past, but the conditions are never quite the same - we change perceptions, too.

What else would you add?

[image from the Top 32 entries submitted to the Rhino Awards 2007/2008]

Comments

[Susan]

Life is a journey, both professionally and personally. I think we sometimes do our best when we recognize we don't have all the answers. It's best to reach out, take a step back and ask for help/teamwork. The fog today can represent the economy and people everywhere, in every position, are trying to drive through it in a successful manner. Blindly (no pun intended) leading and assuming you know what is right will lead you to crash into a yogurt truck.

[Brian DR1665]

If we're all in the fog, it would seem we have the option of sticking together in an effort to get out of that fog, but what if we're so eager to press on regardless that we're taking a greater risk in driving into the fog, blindly following someone, anyone, who will lead? Is this preferable to pulling off the road, turning off the lights, and waiting for the fog to lift, enabling a clear view?

The driver at the front of the line could be worn out from leading so long and no longer interested in reaching the destination quickly and safely. He may just want a break for himself! I mean, who is this guy? Where did he get his license? Why are we following him? Could it be that he's actually holding everyone back? And is that spoon too big?

Interesting little metaphor.

[Valeria Maltoni]

@Susan - we rarely have all the answers, but we get better with the questions. At least that is my personal experience. Joining forces is especially hard when there doesn't seem to be enough to go around - uncertainty and doubt accompany fear. That's why we need to be extra careful about how we drive forward.

@Brian - it's a big yogurt being advertised (gross), hence the big spoon. The image gave a chuckle. Thank you for thinking through the metaphor with me. I think it's a bit simpler. We may think we see clearly ahead, but all we can do is drive where we think we're going and adjust the course when things come our way. While it's tempting to go someone else's speed, wisdom and experience help us figure out our own.

[Stan Phelps]

I'd add:
1. Try not to drive in the fog
2. Always maintain the four second rule when following
3. There a easier ways to embrace culture than slamming into a truck full of yogurt

Fantastic image - I'm a fan of anamorphic design

[Carolyn Ann]

As Susan said: life is a journey. Some people want to know what's up front, and others are content to go find out. Which has some dangers - as you so nicely [?] illustrate! :-)

Most of the danger comes from the fact "your" plans are not always agreed to by other people.

Carolyn Ann

[Diego Stocco]

Io sono Veneto (di Rovigo) e lavoravo a Padova circa 12 anni fa, ogni mattina prendevo l'A13 e capitava di trovare della gran nebbia.
Una mattina mentre andavo verso Padova ho visto un mega incidente sulla corsia Sud (verso Bologna), una cosa orrenda, c'era un autobus in fiamme sopra una pila di macchine.
Instintivamente tutti quanti rallentavano per vedere la scena e dopo averla passata ognuno forse pensava "meno male che non ero la anch'io", io l'ho pensato di sicuro.

Cinque minuti dopo, mentre guidavo con le pupille spalancate e a moderata velocità..vedo gli stop di una macchina...e subito dopo la tampono, dietro di me succede la stssa cosa e si crea un tamponamento a catena, niente di grave fortunatamente perchè si andava veramente molto piano : )
Subito mi sono chiesto, "ma dove è sbucata sta macchina, e cosa faceva ferma in mezzo all'autostrada?"

Sai cos'era successo? Non c'era un folle che guidava veloce, semplicemente si scendeva da un leggero cavalcavia e la visuale era distorta. Sarebbe stato il caso di guardare verso il basso e non dritto davanti.
Quindi se posso suggerire un un'altro possibile punto da osservare:

8. Keep in mind that the road sometimes is not just what's in front of you.

Complimenti ancora per il blog, l'ho aggiunto nella mia bookmark bar a fianco del blog di Seth Godin.