The Earth as an Egg

This cushion-for-error of humanity’s survival and growth up to now was apparently provided just as a bird inside of the egg is provided with liquid nutriment to develop it to a certain point. But then by design the nutriment is exhausted at just the time when the chick is large enough to be able to locomote on its own legs. And as the chick pecks at the shell seeking more nutriment it inadvertently breaks open the shell. Stepping forth from its initial sanctuary, the young bird must now forage on its own legs and wings to discover the next phase of its regenerative sustenance. —Buckminster Fuller, Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth

Good writers changes your perspective through their choice of words. Buckminster Fuller did this by calling the planet “Spaceship Earth,” which immediately alters the imagery — now, thanks to his words, we’re flying through space. His analogy of the earth as an egg does this as well, and it’s beautiful and frightening at the same time.

It’s a very Goldilocks sort of view — everything is just right. We’ve been given all that we need to hatch humanity into perpetuity like the chick that consumes the nutrients until it has the strength to peck its way out of its shell.

And as we wrestle with renewable energy and increasing food demands, the analogy is even more fitting. Fossil fuels are the nutrients that have propelled us thus far. The biosphere — a thin, fragile ribbon around the earth — is our yolk. It encompasses all life as we know it and stores all of the energy we have. The atmosphere is the shell that traps all of the sunlight we need and protects us from harmful rays and errant asteroids. We are encapsulated and safe.

However, the egg analogy also suggests an end, that the clock is ticking — we have to make sure that we don’t consume all the nutrients before we have the strength to break through. But what does this mean, this breaking through? With a renewed interest in space travel, maybe it means leaving the planet, that we’ve been given enough nutrients here to build a machine to take flight and explore.

It’s a beautiful thought to me that the universe is full of millions of little blue eggs, incubated by distant suns, waiting to hatch their inhabitants into space. But the fact remains that someday our sun will be no more, and then what? Do we break through to a new world, a new existence, or do we wither away to nothing within the shell?


The New Frontier — Invention, Innovation, and Imagination

We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters.    — Founders Fund

I’ve always been interested in space. I grew up reading books about planets, stars, and asteroids. The Earthrise photo hangs framed in my office — the first photograph of Earth, taken by the crew of Apollo 8. I remember watching Carl Sagan documentaries (he of the famous “billions and billions”) and rolling out that strip of paper with a google and a googleplex on it. And when my parents asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said an astronaut or a cowboy. I was awed by space and gravitated towards frontiers.

When I transitioned out of finance a few years ago, I started a company to hold the investments I planned to make. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were going to be, but I knew that ultimately I wanted to start and invest in companies. I had read Kennedy’s speech where he talked about the “New Frontier,” and the name resonated, so I formed NewFrontier Holdings.

For the problems are not all solved and the battles are not all won — and we stand today on the edge of a New Frontier…a frontier of unknown opportunities and perils — a frontier of unfulfilled hopes and threats…. Beyond that frontier are the uncharted areas of science and space, unsolved problems of peace and war, unconquered pockets of ignorance and prejudice, unanswered questions of poverty and surplus. It would be easier to shrink back from that frontier, to look to the safe mediocrity of the past, to be lulled by good intentions and high rhetoric…. But I believe the times demand new invention, innovation, imagination, decision.   — 1960 Kennedy Acceptance Speech

That quote seems as appropriate today as it must have to people in the 1960s. Certainly peace and war and ignorance and prejudice still exist (in abundance). The question of poverty and surplus is front and center as we come out of the Great Recession with little to no gains in real wages for the vast majority of people.

We live in a world of fewer physical frontiers, with the last being space or possibly the depths of the oceans, although we’re making progress there too. There’s a sense that technology hasn’t delivered, that we’ve stagnated and that basic things like our kitchens have hardly changed in 50 years.

But there are new frontiers left:


There’s the frontier of the environment — how to maximize food, energy, and water while minimizing impact and externalities in a world moving from 6 to 11 billion people over the next fifty years.


There’s the frontier of biology — genetics and sequencing are advancing at an astonishing rate, leading to personalized medicine and insights into how to treat and cure diseases like cancer and to create synthetic life.


There’s still the frontier of space — there has been a revitalization and interest in space with everyone from Bezos to Branson to Musk competing for market share. Mars is going to be this generation’s Moon.


There’s the frontier of impact investing — learning how to address poverty and surplus, at the intersection of capital markets and philanthropy, is being pioneered by firms like Acumen.

The idea that there are no more new frontiers could not be further from the truth; they are there, and we need invention, innovation, and imagination now more than ever if we are to succeed at crossing them.

Further Reading & References

Full Kennedy Speech
The Great Stagnation, Tyler Cowen
The Kitchen Test, Paul Krugman
What Happened to the Future?, Founders Fund