"Explorer" is not a job title you find on everyone's business card, but increasingly, exploring is everyone's business. Work today involves traveling in uncharted territory, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new economy for which no maps exist. "We're all explorers," says Ballard. "I just do my exploring in a very graphic way. But we're all in pursuit of fundamental truths. That's what exploration is all about."
Ballard's 30-year career as an explorer has taught him to see his work as a circular process - one that he compares with the stages that define the epic journey of the archetypal hero: dream, prepare, assemble a team, go forth and lead, overcome obstacles, find truth, share new knowledge. They are, Ballard suggests, the same stages that any businessperson needs to traverse in order to take a project from original conception to final realization.
Ballard is president of the Institute For Exploration in Mystic, Connecticut, founder and chairman of the JASON Foundation for Education, and author of a number of books, including an autobiography, Explorations (with Malcolm McConnell, Hyperion, 1995). Fast Company asked Ballard what it means to explore - and what it takes to succeed.
To be an explorer is to have a dream. Your dream gives your life direction and helps you navigate day-to-day decisions. Let your dream inform your life: Look at opportunities through the dream's filter, and ask yourself whether any given situation will move you closer to fulfilling it.
I've had my dream since I was a child. I knew I wanted to explore the bottom of the sea. There was one problem: No vehicle could take me there. Neither manned submersibles nor remotely operated vehicles existed yet. But I heard whispers about emerging technologies, like fiber optics and robotics, that I knew would be integral to my dream. I realized I had to learn to do what I call "parallel thinking" - to keep an eye on the various converging developments that would nudge reality closer to my dream.
I also had to learn how to sell my dream to others. Often I've felt more like a salesman than a scientist. When you're selling your dream, you've got to sit down with your backers, explain everything as clearly as possible, and assure them that you will succeed. Look them in the eyes, and don't blink. They never want to see you blink.
A true explorer never stops preparing for the next expedition. All my life I've been learning about the sea. It's a never-ending process. I spent years mapping the virgin volcanic terrain of an underwater mountain range. As a geologist, I studied plate tectonics, volcanism, and complex hydrothermal processes. I spent most of my young adulthood under the sea - leading or participating in 110 expeditions. And each one prepared me for the next.
One key to preparation is understanding what's around the corner. I've always been ahead of the curve. In 1973, I was advocating manned submersibles for underwater exploration. I wanted to reach the ocean floor, not remain miles above it. But a lot of high-profile and powerful geophysicists dominated research and the accompanying funding with their "proven" technology: surface ships and sonar. But by 1980, I was campaigning against manned submersibles, which by then were widely accepted. I was already on to the next paradigm for exploration: remotely operated vehicles.
I always think in terms of the future: Where do I want to be in 5, 10, or 15 years? It's not hard to predict what's coming. You just have to know how to see it. But most of us are too busy catching up with what's in front of us to take the time to see what's ahead. If you're looking for the future, you can see it easily - it's out there.
The right team is the heart of any expedition. When I meet someone, I know immediately whether I'd like to hire him - I go on my gut feeling. But I let my teams do all the hiring: If I hire someone, I'm forcing the team to accept him. If he makes a mistake, the team will be quick to point out that I hired the wrong person. But if the team hires a person and he makes a mistake, they'll cover for him.
My expeditions are usually filled with highly intelligent people - scientists who are pursuing their own Golden Fleeces. But a ship is too small a place for a lot of egos. And the last person you'd want to follow 20,000 feet beneath the ocean's surface is someone who is intellectually self-centered. So when I'm leading a team, I make sure that everyone on it benefits. I factor in different agendas: This guy is thinking of biology, that one is interested in paleolithic history, this one wants to test a new technology. Because if you focus on one small thing, you'll be blind to the possibilities of what you could discover.