Years ago, I had an idea. At the time, it felt bold, ridiculous, and maybe even impossible. I wondered: what if we could create a machine capable of understanding everything we know as humans? A system that could learn, process, and synthesise vast amounts of information, making decisions and solving problems in ways that surpassed our capabilities.
Excited by the thought, I shared it with a fellow researcher. But their response was less than encouraging. “That’s a stupid idea, bro!,” they said. I laughed nervously, trying to defend my vision, but their words lingered. And, slowly, I let the idea go.
What I did not realise then was that this “stupid” idea of mine was a glimpse into the future of AI—a vision that, years later, would come to life as tools like ChatGPT. It was a concept grounded in curiosity, ambition, and the desire to push boundaries, but I abandoned it because I feared the uncertainty of not knowing where to start.
Missing the Chance to Build the Future
When I think back to that moment, I feel a mix of regret and understanding. At the time, the idea of creating an AI system that could learn from and synthesise human knowledge felt overwhelming. There was no clear roadmap, no precedent I could lean on. I thought, “Who am I to even attempt something like this?”
Looking at the advancements in generative AI today, I see how close my “stupid” idea was to something revolutionary. Systems like ChatGPT now demonstrate how machines can process and generate human-like responses, drawing from a vast pool of information. It is a reminder that what seems impossible today might just be the foundation for tomorrow’s innovations.
Why Feeling “Stupid” is Essential
When I came across Martin A. Schwartz’s article The Importance of Stupidity in Scientific Research [1],it hit me like a wake-up call. Schwartz argues that feeling stupid is not a flaw but an essential part of the creative and scientific process. He suggests that true progress comes from grappling with questions we do not immediately understand and venturing into areas where we feel uncertain.
This resonated deeply with my own experience. When I shared my idea of a machine capable of understanding human knowledge, I felt exposed and inadequate. I did not know where to begin or how to turn the concept into reality. But as Schwartz explains, it is precisely in those moments of uncertainty that breakthroughs happen.
He shares the story of a friend who left a successful law career to pursue a PhD in environmental science. She was overwhelmed by the complexity of research and constantly felt inadequate. Schwartz reassured her that this feeling of “stupidity” was not a sign of failure—it was a sign that she was pushing the boundaries of what she knew.
Why I Gave Up
Reflecting on my own journey, I see how I let my fear of being wrong stop me. I was so focused on having a “complete” idea, something polished and ready to execute, that I overlooked the value of exploring the unknown.
Schwartz points out that our education systems often reinforce this fear. In school and even in higher education, we are taught to master existing knowledge, creating an illusion of control and certainty. But real research—and real innovation—does not work that way. It is messy, unpredictable, and full of failures.
I did not understand this at the time. I wanted my idea to feel solid and “real” before I took the leap. But as Schwartz explains, the most significant advancements often come from stepping into the unknown, even if it means stumbling along the way.
The Role of “Productive Stupidity”
Schwartz introduces a concept that I wish I had embraced back then: “productive stupidity.” This is the willingness to confront what we do not know, to ask questions that might seem silly or naive, and to embrace the discomfort of uncertainty.
Looking back, I see that my idea was not “stupid” at all. It was ambitious and full of unanswered questions, but those are precisely the qualities that make ideas worth pursuing. The discomfort I felt was not a sign that I was unprepared—it was a sign that I was on the verge of something new.
What If I Had Tried?
Today, as I see tools like ChatGPT revolutionising how we interact with technology, I cannot help but wonder: what if I had pursued my idea? What if I had embraced the uncertainty instead of letting it scare me away?
I imagine what it would have been like to be part of the early discussions about generative AI, to contribute to the development of a system that learns and responds like a human. It is a bittersweet thought. On one hand, I feel a pang of regret for not following through. On the other, I feel inspired by the realisation that no idea is truly “stupid” if it pushes you to think differently.
Lessons from Missed Opportunities
If there is one thing I have learned from this experience, it is that innovation requires courage. It is not about avoiding failure—it is about being willing to try, even when you do not have all the answers.
Schwartz’s article helped me see that the discomfort of not knowing is not a barrier; it is an invitation. It is a sign that you are venturing into uncharted territory, where the potential for discovery is greatest.
Moving Forward
While I may have missed my chance to contribute to the early development of tools like ChatGPT, I won’t let fear hold me back again. If I ever have another “stupid” idea, I will lean into the uncertainty, ask the naive questions, and embrace the process of exploration.
For anyone reading this, my advice is simple: DO NOT let fear of the unknown stop you. The next time you have an idea that feels bold, messy, or even impossible, give it a chance. You never know—it might just change the world.
Final Comments
Looking back, I see my “stupid” idea for what it really was: a missed opportunity. But I also see it as a lesson. It taught me that the most significant breakthroughs often come from stepping into the unknown, from embracing the discomfort of not knowing and allowing yourself to dream big.
Who knows? The next time inspiration strikes, I might just follow it. And maybe, just maybe, it will lead to something extraordinary.
References
[1] M. A. Schwartz, “The importance of stupidity in scientific research,” Journal of Cell Science, vol. 121, no. 11, p. 1771, May 2008, doi: 10.1242/jcs.033340.
