The Fish That Climb Trees
What's wrong with the water?
Albert Einstein wrote, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
Matthew Kelly wrote that quotation in 2004,1 attributing it to Einstein probably to steal some social proof. Though the book in which it appears is forgettable, that one line has taken on a life of its own. I see it on a stylized social media graphic at least once every few months. I can’t prove it, but I’m comfortable saying that the quotation and the sentiment it articulates have had a deep and lasting impact on education policy around the Western world. That tweet-length meme is likely one of the most influential sentences of the past twenty years.
I think about it a lot. It’s a nice sentiment, everyone is brilliant and special in their own way. It appeals to an intuitive sense of equity, that justice demands we judge fish by fish standards and tree climbers by tree climbing standards. Of course that’s true, and of course it’s unfair to condemn a fish as stupid if it cannot climb a tree.
But there’s a self-judgement on the part of the fish that’s assumed, and that always bothered me. Why should the fish believe itself to be stupid because I made the mistake of judging its intrinsic quality by an unjust standard? There is no reason the fish’s self-worth should be impacted by my judgment, especially if the fish is aware of its own fish-ness, it’s own nature. It would know that climbing a tree is impossible and that it would die trying. If anything, the fish should believe me to be stupid for judging it by a ridiculous standard.
The quotation only makes sense to a person who holds themselves worthy to judge the fish, with jurisdiction over a fish who willingly submits to such judgment. Such a person doesn’t care about the fish, not even the fish cares about the fish—they care about the standard, above all else.
I recommend not submitting to such judgments, nor to the people who claim power over you to make them.
Joe Hudson frames this type of relating as partial, treating others with partiality as opposed to impartiality.2 Impartiality is entering a conversation without an agenda for the other person. It means trusting that they know what’s best for themselves, following their lead, and exploring their situation with them rather than trying to steer them somewhere. It’s a state of being rooted in genuine openness to any outcome.
Partiality is the opposite: wanting the other person to be different, trying to fix them, leading them toward your preferred conclusion. The subtle message behind partiality is “I know better than you do,” which reinforces the other person’s sense of not being good enough.
There are many ways to care for a thing. Maintenance is one, to maintain the object of care against the forces of entropy. One of the more intimate and controversial ways to care is to improve the object, to act upon the desire to see it become the best version of itself.
Why is it wrong to wish for the fish to successfully climb the tree? To be the first of its kind to tree-climb? Because to do so is to be partial to the fish, to wish that the fish be something other than it is.
It is not an improvement to the fish to teach it to climb a tree. It is contrary to the fish, it is against the fish’s nature. To act upon the desire that a fish climb a tree is to attempt to turn the fish into a not-fish. It is not to improve, but to change.
It’s obvious in the case of the fish, but less obvious in the cases where that meme’s sentiments are often applied. Is it wrong to wish for a dyslexic child to successfully read a novel? It is an act of love to help her overcome, it is something else to push her against her nature. And that all depends on the dyslexic herself, whether she sees her dyslexia as an inherent part of her nature, or as simply an obstacle to be overcome.
Consider the so-called body positivity movement, the reactionaries against fat shaming, since cheap Ozempic became available. A vast majority of them, including almost all of their celebrities, changed how they saw their obesity—it went from an inherent part of their nature to a simple obstacle that can be medically overcome. Or, more accurately, their perspective changed, not their nature—their nature is what their nature is. They are fish and they always were fish.
Now consider the deep resistance in parts of the deaf community to cochlear implants.3 Consider again education and dyslexia, dyscalculia, ADHD, or even mere commonplace stupidity.
Consider that you are both fish and judge, and you do this to yourself. You are partial to yourself, when you could be impartial. You carry an agenda with, even against, yourself—not simply that you should be better, further along, more disciplined, less afraid, but that you should be different, someone other than who you are.
The fish suffers at the tree, not in the water. What is it that brought you here, to the base of the tree, where all you can do is shamefully flop about? Stop fighting the current. The water around the fish tells the fish the way, if only it remembers how to listen.
https://deafaction.org/ceo-blog/the-stigma-around-cochlear-implants/