Evolution, not Revolution

In the mid-19^th century, an enterprising young Englishman set sail for South America. With several friends, he spent the next four years collecting natural specimens before returning to England to publish his findings. He then set out for an eight year journey to the East Indies, discovering thousands of new species, collecting specimens, and sharpening his understanding of evolution. He finally came up with his theory of natural selection, publishing it in a joint paper in 1858.

The famous naturalist is, of course, Alfred Russel Wallace.

Most readers can be forgiven for assuming the scientist in question is the far more famous Charles Darwin. Darwin too sailed for several years to South America and far beyond to collect specimens and make other scientific observations, providing the basis for his theories on evolution and natural selection. In fact, he and Wallace wrote the  1858 paper on natural selection together. It was Darwin's 1859 book On the Origin of Species that led to his international fame.

How was it that two individuals working separately came to the same conclusions at around the same time? Neither Wallace nor Darwin had an intellectual breakthrough moment in which they made a massive intellectual leap to the theory of natural selection. Instead, both men built upon existing theories and studies, which gave them the intellectual foundation from which to make the next leap.

Even more surprising, natural selection is not the only major scientific discovery that was reached at the same time by scientists working separately. Far from it. In 1922, William Ogbrun and Dorothy Thomas compiled almost 150 discoveries made in parallel, from the discovery of Neptune (Adams 1845, Leverrier 1845) and oxygen (Scheele 1774, Priestley 1774) to the telegraph (Henry 1831, Morse 1837, Cooke-Wheatstone 1837, Steinheil 1837) and the microphone (Berliner 1877, Edison 1877-8, Hughes 1878, Blake 1878). "Are inventions inevitable?..." the authors ask. "Are inventions independent of mental ability? Is not the determinism in inventions a matter of cultural preparation?"

The existence of parallel discoveries, now known as "multiples", points to an important insight about the nature of new ideas. They are not made by lonely scientists tinkering away for years until the breakthrough "eureka" moment. Instead, writes science author and theorist Steven Johnson, "they are built out of a collection of existing parts, the composition of which expands (and, occasionally contacts) over time. Some of those parts are conceptual: ways of solving problems, or new definitions of what constitutes a problem in the first place. Some of them are, literally, mechanical parts."

In his book, Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation, Johnson sets out to draw insights from the natural world to understand "the space of innovation." Why do some natural spaces – like coral reefs -  encourage astounding biological diversity and innovation, while mere kilometers away, spaces in the open ocean are virtual deserts, with little biodiversity.

A central idea of the book, with important implications for military innovation, is the "adjacent possible." Before life existed on earth, the planet consisted of several basic molecules, like methane, water, CO2, and amino acids. These molecules can combine with each other to form important building blocks of life, like the sugar molecules in the nucleic acids of DNA. But they cannot jump to the more complex functions that make advanced life forms possible. Biological innovations like photosynthesis or opposable thumbs were only possible once billions of years of gradual innovations had occurred, leading from simple molecules to basic cells, to simple life forms, then more advanced animals.  

The adjacent possible, a term first coined by scientist Stuart Kauffman, suggests a range of possibilities for new combinations, but a range with clear limits. These limits expand and change with each new combination, creating a new adjacent possible. "Think of it as a house that magically expands with each door you open," writes Johnson. "You begin in a room with four doors, each leading to a new room you haven't visited yet. These four rooms are the adjacent possible. But once you open one of those doors and stroll into that room, three new doors appear, each leading to a brand-new room that you couldn't have reached from your original starting point. Keep opening new doors and you'll eventually have a palace."

The adjacent possible is no less relevant to human innovation. Multiples in scientific discoveries occur because of the limits of the adjacent possible. Darwin and Wallace could not have reached their theories on natural selection if they had not pondered the breakthroughs of earlier scientists. In turn, their insights led to new insights into evolution and the development of life on earth.

The limits and possibilities of the adjacent possible are even more apparent when we consider major technological innovations in our time. If the founders of YouTube had tried to execute their idea in 1995, it would have been a "spectacular flop," writes Johnson, as the early internet could not yet support video sharing. YouTube needed the invention of hi-speed internet connections and Adobe Flash technology to work. And of course, all of that sits upon even earlier innovations, like the World Wide Web, the computer, and electric power transmission.

The next question in the book that emerges from the idea of the adjacent possible is what types of environments lead to an expanded adjacent possible. If the combination of existing elements is what produces the next stage, then what environments encourage those combinations? Johnson points to liquid networks, innovative systems "on the edge of chaos," where there is the proper mixture of chaos and order for serendipitous chance meetings occur. In the human realm, these networks are found in places where people, and the ideas and beliefs they carry, intermingle freely. Port cities and trading routes were the edge of chaos in the ancient world; today, cities are still hubs of innovation (the average resident of a cities with five million people is three times more creative than the average residents of a town of a hundred thousand, in terms of patents and inventions per capita), but we also have environments on the internet where diverse individuals and ideas chance upon each other to innovate.

Johnson's ideas on the adjacent possible and innovation contain important insights for how we perceive military innovation.

Military innovation is often thought of as breakthroughs, conceptual and technological revolutions that fundamentally change the nature of war. We search for the next revolution in military affairs in order to gain an advantage over our adversaries that will takes years or even decades for them to adapt to. The theory of the adjacent possible suggests something else entirely. Breakthroughs of this type are exceedingly rare. Military innovation – like innovation in other realms – occurs when existing ideas meet, and gradual innovations create a new adjacent possible.

Once that reality is recognized, further analysis can determine the ways in which militaries – or a certain military like the IDF- build on existing technologies and concepts to innovate. From an initial survey, three main avenues to the adjacent possible are available – recombining existing ideas/technologies, enhancing existing ideas/technologies, and repackaging/ideas existing technologies to adapt to new challenges.  Is there one avenue that we consistently rely on? Do we shy away from another? Are there circumstances in which one method is more appropriate than another? Is one avenue more rapid, or more reliable? All of these questions are important research questions for future research.

Johnson's work on liquid networks that encourage the combinations that produce innovations is also important for those thinking about military innovation. An analysis of military organizations will likely show that there are too few environments in which information and ideas flow freely and meet by chance. With information security and rigid organizational structures, the environment is too rigid to create a truly innovative environment. Commanders should consider how to create the platforms and spaces for diverse individuals to encounter one another and their ideas, and for new innovations for emerge. The goal is to create environments like ancient ports, where ships from around the world arrived, bringing ideas and products into contact with one another to produce new solutions to pressing challenges.

Though is it enticing to think of innovation as boundless, with military commanders on the quest for the holy grail of the military revolution. Johnson's Where Good Ideas Come From suggests that the process is gradual and unplanned. Our challenge is recognizing this fact, and creating environments for these innovations to occur.

Steven Johnson, Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation, (New York: Riverhead Books, 2010). 326 pg.