We Are Trim Tabs
Sixteen years ago, I got to spend time with an old friend, Rabbi Rami Shapiro. I was living in Alberta, and he came to Calgary under the auspices of the Temple B’nai Tikvah and the Anglican Parish of Christ Church. Rami is a bright light on my radar, and I was delighted.
I signed up to attend his one-day workshop on the Sacred Art of Loving Kindness: an interfaith exploration of compassion. And what a rollicking day it was. Not only were we inspired, enlightened, educated, and entertained, but our immune systems got a boost from all the laughing. Quite frankly, Rami is provocative and irreverent – and for me, an absolute delight. A joyful mix of intelligence, wisdom, open-mindedness, truthfulness, and absolute compassion for the human condition.
Trim Tab
I learned something that day, which has stuck with me for all these years, and it has been back in my thoughts recently. It is the idea of being a “trim-tab.” Rami had studied with Buckminster Fuller and had learned about trim tabs from him. In fact, when Fuller died, his epitaph read, on his tombstone – Call Me TRIM TAB.
“A trim tab is the tiny, trailing part of a ship’s rudder. Slight pressure on the trim tab moves the rudder, which in turn directs the ship. We are all trim tabs, tiny pivots affecting the overall direction of humanity. As Fuller advised, it is time to take a long view. Zoom out, look at where we’ve been and where we might be going. See it? Now choose your path and act accordingly.”
Fuller declared, “you don’t have to turn the weight of civilization, but you can be a trim tab and be part of the turning.”
Agency
In this era of discouraging world news and a sense of futility, what we do and say counts within our circles of influence. Our ordinary days of living are filled with opportunities to influence the lives of others. It doesn’t matter if it is at the grocery store, the ballot box or in the chemo chair. The second we are interacting with another, we are “trim tabs.” For better or for worse.
We may not be able to change the world but we can be Trim Tabs right now and right where we are, under all circumstances.
We get to influence the quality of our own lives and our community every day, with small actions. As Fuller stated, “What you do with yourself, just the little things you do yourself, these are the things that count.” I love the idea that the sum of small actions adds up to a meaningful life.
NOTES
- You might note the strategic dandelion, in the banner photo, that worked its way into a field of spring snowdrops. I love that.
- This little paper boat is one of my favourites. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have a trim tab, but it always makes my heart smile. Thanks to Shutterstock.
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“Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it’s ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living – heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.” L.R. Knost
- This week I had the most delightful reunion with an old friend. It is a gift that I treasure. I hope to see K soon as well.
- Thank you for taking time to read my blog. I deeply appreciate you all. Warmest wishes, Trudy





So true truly,we can all be a trim tab.what a beautiful world It would be.
Love this Trudy! I had read about this idea long ago and completely forgotten it, so I’m delighted to be reminded that the smallest part of the ship’s rudder affects the overall direction, whether of myself, or of humanity. Hurrah for trim tabs!! 🙂
A piece to complement Trim Tabs:
“Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil set off a Tornado in Texas?”
On December 29, 1979, Edward Lorenz, a research meteorologist at MIT, gave a speech to the American Association for the Advancement of Science titled “Predictability: Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil Set Off a Tornado in Texas?”
Lorenz’ image gave the name to a principle that has since become a central precept of a new branch of science called Chaos Theory. Technically, the Butterfly Effect is defined as “sensitive dependence on initial conditions.” It means, essentially, that small changes can become magnified over the course of a subsequent chain of events and culminate in a major, large-scale happening.
As author James Gleick explains in his book Chaos: Making a New Science, “In systems like the weather, sensitive dependence on initial conditions was an inescapable consequence of the way small scales intertwined with large.”
In other words, a minor event like the flapping of a butterfly’s wings could conceivably alter wind currents sufficiently to eventually impact weather conditions a few thousand miles away.
Or, as the familiar verse puts it, “For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the rider was lost; for want of a rider, the battle was lost; for want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.”
Like many pivotal concepts in science, the Butterfly Effect was discovered by accident. In 1960, on a primitive computer, Lorenz created a method of mathematically modeling climatic conditions. He was hoping to find a way to analyze complex, never-repeating weather patterns so as to make possible the old dream of accurate long-range prediction.
Lorenz hoped to identify the laws governing meteorology with such precision that, by calculating the state of the system at one moment in time, one would be able to predict its condition at any point in the future. This was not to be, thanks to the Butterfly Effect.
According to Gleick’s book, to save time on a particular calculation, Lorenz one day entered into his computer a rounded-off figure, .506, instead of the more complete number, .506I27, which he had used in an earlier trial. He assumed that the change in value of less than 1 one thousandth would be inconsequential; it was not. When his simulation of weather conditions came out markedly different from the initial run through of the same data, Lorenz realized that, in Gleick’s words, “something was philosophically out of joint . . . he decided that long-range weather forecasting must be doomed.”
The seemingly trivial numerical alteration was the equivalent of the puff of wind created by a butterfly’s wings, and yet it had produced a tremendous difference in the predicted outcome.
In the long run, the kind of computer modeling that Lorenz originated did, in fact, make weather prediction dramatically more precise, but only for a few days’ duration. After that, the calculations seem to be useless because of the Butterfly Effect.
A small change at any point can spark a chain of events that sets weather conditions rolling in an entirely different direction that is impossible to predict. As Gleick puts it, “Errors and uncertainties multiply, cascading upward through a chain of turbulent features, from dust devils and squalls up to continent-size eddies that only satellites can see.”
Among the many implications of the Butterfly Effect is this: in many instances, predicting thc future with absolute accuracy is virtually impossible. Theoretically, the consequences of any minor error in measurement, or any overlooked variable, will magnify as it moves through the system, gathering momentum like water down a series of falls, until the result at the end of the line is far more powerful than the initial trickle could possibly have suggested.
Fittingly, Edward Lorenz’ attempt at a shortcut (leaving out a few decimal places) became an example of the principle itself; his discovery led to a chain of events that resulted in the new science of chaos.
The Butterfly Effect can be applied metaffectively to a variety of everyday matters where small events generate large, unforeseen repercussions. In the early stages of a project, for example, it can drive home the importance of the maxim “Well begun is half done.”
The smart executive thus might advise his colleagues, “Remember the Butterfly Effect; even the smallest individual actions can have an enormous effect on large systems. Any tiny error, any minor miscalculation, any momentary lapse in concentration or judgment can lead to disastrous consequences down the road.”
Tragically, we have seen this happen already: in the defective “0” rings on the Challenger, which doomed the space shuttle and the astronauts aboard, and in the error in a foundry in 1971 which caused a microscopic flaw in the composition of titanium, which in turn led to a crack in a small engine part, which caused the fatal crash of a passenger jet in Sioux City, Iowa, in 1989.
In a more positive vein, business people can use the metaffect to motivate employees. Try this on your new trainees: “No one in this company is insignificant. No one’s ideas are too small to be aired. We believe that any little insight, a casual remark, a minor compliment, an encouraging gesture, a minor improvement on some trivial operation, a change of words in giving instructions—any of these can create a Butterfly Effect and make a big difference in the future of our venture.”
The metaffect is also an encouraging reminder that any one of us, acting in the service of a cherished principle, can make a difference, perhaps altering the course of events in our communities. The next time you think that taking arms against a sea of troubles would not be worth the bother, remember the impact of a simple flap of a butterfly’s wings.
If you encounter a naysayer, instead of reciting the old saw about “for want of a nail,” you can invoke a new, recondite branch of science: “You think I’m wasting my time lobbying for a recycling program? Well, let me tell you about the Butterfly Effect.”
The metaffect has other, more metaphysical, implications too. Despite its name, Chaos Theory does not view the universe as random but as subject to a high level of mathematical order. In the words of Douglas Hofstadter, author of Godel, Escher, Bach, “It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order—and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order.” It is comforting to know that there might be a method to the madness around us, that the natural forces impinging on us are not as random as they seem.
This sense of the metaffect can be especially useful when life becomes turbulent, when travesties and tragedies are heaped upon you with no apparent rhyme or reason and you can’t make sense of anything. Maybe that cold you can’t shake began when someone sneezed in Hong Kong. Maybe the car accident you just had was set in motion by a little old lady in Pasadena who ran out of gas. Maybe today’s international crisis had its roots in the boudoir of some unknown woman the night before.
Like the Indian concept of karma, the Butterfly Effect suggests that cause-and-effect laws are applicable in the universe even if the pattern is indecipherable and the precise causes of our predicaments, rooted far away in time and space, are ultimately unfathomable.
The Butterfly Effect ought to make us more mindful of our actions. If a wave of a hand or a stone thrown over a precipice might change the weather on another continent, imagine the impact you can have with a careless word or a lapse in manners: “I know that guy cut you off, but I wish you hadn’t sworn at him. I’m sure you’ll cause a Butterfly Effect. You piss him off, so then he gives the finger to some guy who tailgates him, and that guy gets home and yells at his wife, and the wife gets cross with the kids, so the kids go out to play and ridicule their friends, and the friends go home and aggravate their babysitter, so the baby-sitter breaks up with her boyfriend, and he goes out and gets drunk and drives home….”
Perhaps it’s more uplifting to gaze up at the dark dome of night and wonder if, by lighting a match, you can have an impact on the future of a star. Or to contemplate whether the Butterfly Effect might not validate the old homily “Smile and the whole world smiles with you.”
Hi Meguido: Thanks for this addition to Trim Tabs. It is an excellent metaphor for living a life. I appreciate the finale: The Butterfly Effect ought to make us more mindful of our actions. If a wave of a hand or a stone thrown over a precipice might change the weather on another continent, imagine the impact you can have with a careless word or a lapse in manners: ‘I know that guy cut you off, but I wish you hadn’t sworn at him. I’m sure you’ll cause a Butterfly Effect. You piss him off, so then he gives the finger to some guy who tailgates him, and that guy gets home and yells at his wife, and the wife gets cross with the kids, so the kids go out to play and ridicule their friends, and the friends go home and aggravate their babysitter, so the baby-sitter breaks up with her boyfriend, and he goes out and gets drunk and drives home….”
Perhaps it’s more uplifting to gaze up at the dark dome of night and wonder if, by lighting a match, you can have an impact on the future of a star. Or to contemplate whether the Butterfly Effect might not validate the old homily “Smile and the whole world smiles with you.”
Thanks for the trouble you went to, to find this. Warmly, Trudy