Maybe So, Maybe Not: What an Ancient Parable Can Teach Modern Business Leaders About Resilience and Perspective
There’s an old Chinese parable often referred to as “The Story of the Farmer.” It is simple, subtle, and, for business leaders, profoundly instructive:
A farmer’s horse runs away.
“Such bad luck,” his neighbors say.
“Maybe,” replies the farmer.The next day, the horse returns with three wild horses.
“How wonderful!” the neighbors exclaim.
“Maybe,” the farmer says.The following day, the farmer’s son tries to ride one of the wild horses, is thrown, and breaks his leg.
“How terrible,” say the neighbors.
“Maybe,” says the farmer.Soon, the army comes to conscript young men for war—but they leave the farmer’s son behind due to his injury.
“How fortunate!” the neighbors declare.
“Maybe,” says the farmer.
The parable is not about luck. It’s about perspective. It’s about resisting the impulse to immediately label events as good or bad. And it’s about the wisdom of emotional neutrality when facing the unpredictable nature of life, leadership, and enterprise.
For business leaders navigating volatility, the farmer’s restraint is not passivity—it is strategy.
The Fallacy of Immediate Judgment
In business, we are conditioned to react quickly: to celebrate wins and mourn losses, to announce success and diagnose failure. But just as in the parable, today’s crisis may be tomorrow’s catalyst. What seems like a detour may in fact be a shortcut in disguise.
Consider how many seemingly failed ventures later produced iconic products. One story stands out:
From Soot to Sculpting: The Play-Doh Pivot
In the early 20th century, a man named Cleo McVickers ran a soap company that manufactured a pliable, putty-like cleaner for removing coal soot from wallpaper. It was a product suited for a world of coal-burning furnaces. But when the post-war economy shifted and homes began switching to cleaner heating methods, demand for the product dried up.
McVickers’ company was effectively staring down obsolescence. A dead end.
But in an unexpected twist, his sister-in-law—who was a schoolteacher—noticed that children enjoyed using the soft cleaner as modeling clay. It was safe, malleable, and odorless. The company removed the cleaning agents, added coloring and scent, and rebranded the product for children.
That failed wall cleaner became Play-Doh. Over 3 billion cans have been sold.
What seemed like a complete failure was, in fact, the ramp to an enduring global success. And the company didn’t need to change its materials—just its perspective.
Setbacks in Sports: Unwelcome Turns That Lead to Glory
In the world of sports, where performance is tracked in real time and careers can pivot on a single play, we see the farmer’s wisdom echoed again and again.
Michael Jordan, famously cut from his high school varsity basketball team, later cited that rejection as fuel for his competitive fire. The greatest of all time was forged, in part, by early failure.
Drew Bledsoe’s injury in 2001 was a disaster for the New England Patriots—until a sixth-round backup named Tom Brady stepped in and rewrote the history of the franchise and the NFL.
Serena Williams lost early in her return after giving birth, sparking commentary about her decline. Instead, it began a new chapter of resilience, advocacy, and longevity that redefined her legacy.
The lesson? What we often label as misfortune is frequently the preamble to reinvention.
Business Leadership and Emotional Equilibrium
For entrepreneurs and CEOs, this parable is a reminder to resist the high highs and low lows that so often dominate the startup psyche. It doesn’t mean apathy or detachment. It means cultivating perspective and playing the long game.
Here’s how leaders can operationalize this mindset:
When you lose a major client, ask: “What capacity has this freed up? What new opportunities does this create?”
When a product launch underperforms, ask: “What signal is the market sending that we’re now better positioned to hear?”
When a key hire departs unexpectedly, ask: “What leadership gaps are we now forced to confront—and potentially strengthen?”
Great leaders don’t just adapt to change. They reframe it.
Conclusion: Walk the Middle Path
Business is a long game. Success does not arrive all at once, and failure is rarely final. When we tether our identity to either, we blind ourselves to the unexpected turns ahead.
The farmer, it turns out, was the wisest leader of them all. Not because he knew the future—but because he knew he didn’t.
Let that humility be your compass.