Think Again

The Importance of Mental Flexibility

In 1949, fifteen smokejumpers parachuted into Montana’s Mann Gulch to extinguish a routine forest fire. Within minutes, the wind shifted, and a wall of flame raced toward them, moving faster than they could run. As the crew scrambled up a steep, rocky slope, their foreman, Wagner Dodge, did something that appeared insane: he stopped running and lit a fire in the grass directly in front of him. He yelled for his men to join him in the charred patch he had created, but they ignored him, convinced he had lost his mind.

Dodge survived by lying facedown in the oxygen-rich air near the ground of his "escape fire," while twelve of his men perished in the blaze. His survival wasn't a matter of physical strength—two others survived simply by outrunning the flames—but of mental fitness. While the crew relied on their well-learned instincts to run away from fire, Dodge had the rare ability to rethink the situation in real time. He treated his knowledge not as a fixed script, but as a set of tools that could be discarded or reinvented when the environment changed.

Most of us struggle with this kind of "unlearning." We often act as mental misers, clinging to old views because questioning ourselves makes the world feel unpredictable and threatens our identity. This resistance is visible in everyday life, from students who refuse to change their first answers on a test—despite evidence that second-guessing often leads to the right choice—to leaders who fail to pivot during a global pandemic. We refresh our wardrobes and tech gadgets with ease, yet we let our beliefs get brittle, favoring the comfort of conviction over the discomfort of doubt.

This attachment to old tools can be literal and fatal. In several wildfire disasters, firefighters were found dead still clutching their heavy chainsaws and packs. Had they dropped their gear, they could have moved 15 percent faster—enough to reach safety. To these professionals, the tools weren't just equipment; they were their identity. Dropping them felt like an admission of failure. We all carry similar cognitive tools—assumptions and habits—that weigh us down. True wisdom lies in knowing when to abandon these cherished parts of ourselves to find a safer path forward.