It's easy to fall into the trap of assuming that a new

Hear the words of Michael J. Saylor, a prophet of the digital age, who warned with clarity: “It's easy to fall into the trap of assuming that a new technology is very similar to its predecessors. A new technology is often perceived as the linear extension of the previous one, and this leads us to believe the new technology will fill the same roles—just a little faster or a little smaller or a little lighter.” These words are a beacon to remind us that invention does not always march in straight lines. Sometimes it leaps, sometimes it shatters the old patterns, and in those moments, the unprepared are left behind.

The origin of this saying comes from Saylor’s reflections on disruptive technologies. He witnessed firsthand how people dismissed the transformative power of computers, the internet, and later digital assets, by comparing them too closely to what came before. The typewriter was not the computer. The telegraph was not the internet. Yet many, blinded by habit, assumed that the new would merely be an improved version of the old. Saylor sought to awaken us to a deeper vision: that new technology often changes not just speed or size, but the very nature of what is possible.

History gives us a clear example in the automobile. At its birth, many thought of it as a “horseless carriage,” merely a faster horse-drawn cart. They assumed it would serve the same role, just with greater efficiency. But the automobile was not a carriage at all; it was a revolution. It reshaped cities, birthed suburbs, created entire industries, and altered human mobility forever. Those who saw only a faster carriage underestimated the transformation before their eyes. So too with every great invention—the error lies in thinking linearly when the world is about to bend.

Another tale is the internet itself. In its infancy, many dismissed it as little more than a digital library, a faster post office, or an electronic newspaper. Few saw that it would redefine commerce, communication, politics, and even identity. Those who thought it “a little faster” missed its deeper nature: it was not an improvement of old systems, but the creation of a new reality altogether. In this, Saylor’s wisdom strikes home: to assume continuity where there is disruption is to be caught unprepared when the world shifts beneath your feet.

The heart of his message is a warning against complacency. To treat every new creation as simply “smaller, faster, lighter” blinds us to the hidden potential within it. The danger is not only in business or technology but in every realm of life. New movements, new ideas, new ways of being often appear first in the shadow of the old. But in time, they reveal themselves as something altogether different, demanding new understanding, new courage, and new vision.

The lesson for us, then, is this: when you encounter a new invention, do not measure it only against what came before. Ask instead what entirely new roles it might fulfill, what unseen doors it may open, what transformations it may unleash. Be curious, be cautious, but above all, be willing to see beyond the narrow frame of the past. For those who cling only to old comparisons will be left behind, while those who see with open eyes will shape the age to come.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: do not fall into the trap of thinking the future is just the past made quicker. Honor the wisdom of history, but do not let it chain your imagination. When the next great technology arises before your eyes, do not call it a “faster carriage” or a “smaller typewriter.” Look deeper. Ask what it truly is, and what it can make of the world. For Saylor speaks true: the greatest error is to mistake revolution for improvement, and the greatest triumph is to see what others cannot yet see.