To understand the development of technology, you may be better off
studying evolutionary biology rather than, say, computer science. A
grasp of evolutionary theory, with the facility for reasoning backwards
which it brings, is a better model for understanding the haphazard
nature of progress than any attempt to explain the world by assuming
conscious and deliberate intent.

One useful concept from evolutionary thinking is the idea of the
‘adjacent possible’. As the science writer Olivia Judson explains:
‘Evolution by natural selection only works if each mutational step
itself is advantageous. There’s no such thing as advantageous in a
general sense. It’s advantageous in the circumstances you’re living in.’
In the field of product design, there is an analogous idea known as
‘Maya’, a phrase coined by Raymond Loewy, which stands for ‘Most
advanced yet acceptable’. Any successful product should be notice-ably
better than those which precede it, but not so different as to be
alarming, incomprehensible or unbelievable. The plug-in hybrid electric
car might be a good example of a Maya product, in that it introduces the
benefits of electric propulsion without the fear fully electric vehicles
often induce.

What is fascinating about this process is how uncertain it has become.
Apple, one of the world’s wealthiest companies, has spent billions
developing the Vision Pro, a clever set of goggles which has the
potential to change computing, but which also has the potential to sell
in tiny numbers and end up in a cupboard after a few months of novelty.
No one yet knows.

Many government programmes fail because they don’t understand Maya or
the adjacent possible. For instance, government grants are available for
installing heat pumps, but only if you make a dramatic and expensive
one-off transition: you must rip out your gas boiler, which has given
you dependable service for 20 years, and trust your home heating to
something entirely new. Evolution doesn’t make gambles like that – and
neither do people.

There are also intertwined dependencies in evolutionary progress. One
adaptation must establish itself before another can take root. Sometimes
two things combine to great effect. The invention of the Penny Post in
the UK was obviously dependent on the growth of the railways – but to
some extent the development of the railways also required the
introduction of the Penny Post. That’s because you can’t just travel
across the country and turn up at someone’s door announcing you are
staying for a week: you need an inexpensive form of communication to
make arrangements first.

Hence some good ideas fail at the first attempt but succeed later. I
always thought Google Glass was a fundamentally good idea: at the time
it was advanced but not yet acceptable. Interestingly, with recent
advances in artificial intelligence, Google has just announced it plans
to relaunch a spectacle–style device.

But the really peculiar characteristic common to both processes is how
uneven the pace of progress seems to be. Some things change repeatedly
and rapidly, other things seem stuck. Email has scarcely improved in 15
years. Our practice of constructing houses would be recognisable to a
Roman builder. At the same time, we are often blind to the genius of
things that have been around for ages. I have a theory that if Harris
Tweed had been invented by scientists in California last year we would
hail it as a miracle fabric. Breathable, largely waterproof and warm,
you can throw dirt at it and pack it in a suitcase for six months, and
with a brush and a shake it’s ready to wear. Some things are
unimprovable. Sharks have been around for longer than there have been
trees. J.K. Starley developed the Rover Safety Bicycle in 1885. Every
bicycle since has followed the same design.

Rory Sutherland