I think that the point about risking the incomprehension of those around you points to something deeper. I always marvel at Goddard's courage, for example, when

I think that the point about risking the incomprehension of those around you points to something deeper. I always marvel at Goddard's courage, for example, when he was launching liquid rockets out of a cabbage patch. Here's a guy who moved back in with his mom and faced the ridicule of local and national newspapermen who fundamentally misunderstood the physics of what he was doing. The incomprehension of the tribe nearly always leads to the most crushing kind of social defeat. And when you factor in the inevitable failures of any novel challenge, I'll bet you'll find that the life of an intellectual hero isn't just lonely, it's leadenly depressing. (I'm thinking right now of a comment made by one of the Wright brothers on the train home after a failed flight attempt: "Man will not fly for a thousand years.") It's no fun to be a depressed hero, I'm sure. For every Goddard and Wright brother, there must be thousands of failure stories, each of them detailing a life you'd never want to live. The cost associated with real innovation is generally very high. We are, after all, paleolithic creatures living in a technical world. Conformity means a successful hunt. We're monkeys with mp3 players. Thus, this innovator's penalty is an atavism, but it's not one we're going to overcome anytime soon.