a theory of invention; or why you're an inventor too

Let me tell you about a fact I invented. In the winter, SF (or LA/Vancouver) is only a 3-hour time difference away from New Zealand.

This is silly. Of course, I did not “invent” this, nor am I the only person aware of the time difference between NZ and the US West Coast. But for digital nomads, or people on PST hours who work remotely, this exact framing — realizing that the 21-hour time difference can instead be viewed as a 3-hour time difference plus a one-day change (9am on a Monday in SF is 6am on Tuesday in NZ) — is a genuinely valuable insight. I could find no mention of it online or in any digital nomad community. When I shared it with co-working spaces in New Zealand, and with large communities of remote workers on PST hours, nobody had ever thought of this—and many I spoke with, upon learning this new “fact,” took advantage of it.”

Most people think of an inventor as someone who creates something in the world, like a new tech company — and they view this as something other people do, but definitely not themselves.

And I’m here to argue that being an inventor is a much broader category than that, and that it’s incredibly valuable for everyone to think of themselves as one.

One of the mission statements of this blog stems from this story:

Following the Soviet invasion of Lithuania, a group of Jews trying to flee the Nazis and Soviets needed to get transit visas through the Soviet Union to be able to escape. But a transit visa couldn’t be granted without an end destination that would approve them. Then a group of very creative Jews — realized that the admission policy of Curaçao was that no visa was needed, but that individual permission had to be granted by the governor, (who they had been assured by the Dutch consulate would never approve their admission). They then convinced the Dutch consul, Jan Zwartendijk, to write in their passport - Curaçao: “no visa needed”; leaving out the part about the governor. This idea then spread to many others, leading to thousands of desperate Jews to receive Soviet and Japanese transit visas.

It was already an existing fact that Curaçao didn’t require a visa — so writing it in a passport shouldn’t have changed anything. But it did. And this is the truth about so many “inventions”. It is taking something that already exists and, by presenting it in a new light, allowing it to be engaged with in a different way. It just so happens that this “invention” saved thousands of lives in the Holocaust.

Let me give you one final example before I explain my theory of invention.

I recently completed an incredible 11-stage hike in the Arctic Circle called the Lofoten Crossing. It’s becoming one of the fastest-growing hikes in the world in terms of popularity. This hike, which I loved and benefited so much from doing, was “invented” by the husband-and-wife team of David Souyris (may his memory be a blessing) and Magdalena Brede. The duo didn’t create any of the actual trails — what they did, based on their vast knowledge of the Lofoten Islands, was come up with a route/itinerary that crossed the entire archipelago, incorporating as many of the best day hikes and 2-3 day hikes as possible into one continuous, doable route.

What they really did was create a concept. All of these trails existed before them — but by coming up with the concept of this through-hike, and bringing everything together, they created something new, something that people all across the world can see and say, hey, that 11-stage hike looks epic, I want to travel there to do this.

Once again, all of the hiking trails already existed, but until they came up with the framing of the hike, nobody would have done this hike — and more critically, practically none of the thousands of people who have now done the Lofoten Crossing would have even traveled to Norway. Because going to a place with a lot of great day hikes is very different from going to a place with an amazing circuit/thru-hike.

And even greater than this — as people start to do the Lofoten Crossing, people are going to add suggestions, people are going to find optimizations for the route, new campgrounds will materialize, buses will get scheduled, etc. Once the “concept” is invented, it serves as the structure and frame for others to build upon - where without this “invention”, nothing else could be added.

So my theory of invention is that anyone can do this: taking things that already exist — whether it is a time zone, a legal technicality, or a set of hiking trails — and creating a new conceptual framing that makes the underlying structure more accessible to others and creates new value.

Merely by coining something, tying it together, giving it a shape, you make the underlying facts legible — and more than that, the framing itself becomes its own thing, something others can point to. And once something is legible, others can start to build on it, adding even more to it.

Let me give some other examples of where this comes up:

If you do a lot of long-distance hiking, you will eventually want very light gear. But a lot of hiking-specific gear you can buy is either very expensive, or not so light.

This has led to a big, decentralized drive to use regular industrial goods as hiking gear.

For example, on my hike of the Lofoten Crossing, I used Tyvek window-repair material as a groundsheet, Campbell’s microwaveable soup containers as teacups, a very thick garbage bag to protect my gear from the non-stop rain, Tupperware as a hiking plate/bowl, and waterproof insulated gloves intended for commercial fishermen.

All of these had to be invented. Not the materials, or the goods — but for someone to realize, oh wait, this non-hiking thing is actually amazing hiking gear. Once that realization gets shared online, it quickly spreads through message boards and word of mouth, transforming a cheap household item into a standardized, legible piece of gear that thousands of others now rely on.

The question is — not can you make a new technological invention, but rather, can you take existing hiking trails and create a longer hike through them, or realize that you can use a microwavable soup container as an ultralight hiking mug.

There are thousands and thousands of little things like this, where someone can choose to reframe something, give it a name or a shape, and create huge value for others. But most people don’t realize this is something they are “allowed” to do, or if they do, to share with others — and for us all to collectively benefit from more valuable insights like this, we need more people to realize they can invent things in this way too.

One of the simplest and most underappreciated ways to do this is curating. Curation is ultimately just another form of conceptual scaffolding; by drawing a boundary around scattered, illegible facts, you transform them into a single, usable tool that others can finally act upon.

When I was younger, I compiled the “best advice” on how to negotiate with Canadian telecom providers to lower your bill, which was read and used by tens of thousands of people and spread throughout the country. As a teenager, I made compilations of various Phish playlists (best jams, best soundchecks, best guitar shredding, appearances with horns) — and while almost all of my curation was just taking the community consensus and compiling the songs, the playlists were downloaded thousands and thousands of times, and even 15+ years later, I still hear from people listening to them. Since writing my compilation of my favourite posts from bloggers like Joseph Heath, Scott Sumner, and Holden Karnofsky, I’ve noticed a huge increase in familiarity with many of their previously little read posts.

This is often much easier than people think — just because the consensus is obvious and knowable by anyone that is a part of that community, doesn’t mean that it will be obvious to anyone outside of that community, or even to those in the community in 5 years time. Just as nobody I met in New Zealand had ever thought about that time difference, most people have never heard the best Phish jams, or read the best Joseph Heath blogposts, or seen the best hikes in the Lofoten Islands gathered in one place. What may feel too obvious to you — because you’re already immersed within it — is often unknown to others and recognizing this gap can create enormous value.

And none of this has to start big. A playlist, a gear hack, a compilation of your favourite blog posts — each one can start small, but the moment you put it into the world, others can find it, use it, and build on it.

So while you may never make a new scientific discovery or found a tech company - I hope you consider thinking of yourself as an inventor and eagerly sharing all the new reframings, connections, curations you can think of that add value - and just because it’s obvious to you doesn’t mean there isn’t value in sharing it with others. When enough of us do that, we all benefit from the conceptual inventions each person brings to the world.