Life Lessons of the London Underground (I) — Central London to Heathrow
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This is the first instalment of a series on the various lessons that can be drawn out of journeys by the London Underground. Today, we travel from Central London to Heathrow.
Trip 1: Central London to Heathrow
If to be so down on your luck that the Tube is either the chosen or forced method of your travel from Central London to Heathrow, you might as well try to take something other than cramped frustration from your journey. Lord knows you will have ample time to do so.
The Journey
Let us note some general details about a journey to the airport before speaking about how such a journey may offer parallels to life. Most notably, a trip to the airport is specific rather than directional or approximate. When we go to airports, and having in mind a ‘successful’ trip to an airport, we consequently consider precise locations. The terminal, the check-in counter, the bag drop, security, the gate, your seat, are all in exact places. It is not a feature of going to an airport to drop our bag in a place that seems convenient, get on the first plane that catches our fancy, nor sit down in the first seat on the plane that appears inviting.
In addition, a trip to the airport is not only spatially specific, but fixed in the temporal sense as well. Your plane leaves at a designated time, security must be cleared by a certain time before that, check-in completed by a time still earlier. As such, a trip to the airport is purposeful rather than exploratory. It is not a good practice to travel in hope; “Let me head that direction and see what I can find,” nor in curiosity; “I wonder what is over that way,” nor in disregard for the rules of the runway, so to speak; “My plane takes off at 2pm, I’ll mean to arrive half an hour before.”
This embedded specificity of time and space is much akin to the actions and events that form our lives. Aspects of our life can certainly contain more spontaneity, but the majority of our goals, hopes, desires, etc, have spatial-temporal qualities within them. For example, it doesn’t add up to want to live in Location A for 8 months of the year, and Location B for 6 months of it, though Location A and Location B can certainly be anywhere one would like (within reason). Further to such spatial constraints, we experience time constraints as well. Through the finite nature of our available time, mankind’s constant endeavour is the ‘need’ to be x in y. We want to be happy (x) today (y). We want to have a family (x) in 20 years (y). We want to own a house (x) by age 40 (y). And so on.
In this, when we make goals, have desires, declare wants—there exists a limit to when these goals, desires, and wants must transpire by in order to be considered sufficiently fulfilled. It just doesn’t work, that is, it isn’t the same way desirable, to end up having a family in 50 years, a house in 60, to feel satisfied with our work-life balance only at age 65, in spite of all these qualities being desirable independent of time. That’s really the starting point, then—that we, 21st century Western man, cannot function independent of time. Our —our institutions—, unfortuntely do not base their practice and policies on Eastern philosophy. In Buddhism, the state of nirvana means existence outside of time. Must one pay taxes (on time or at all) in nirvana, and by the way, what time does my plane takeoff?
I don’t mean to put forward that we must set goals in such specificity for every aspect of our life but more so that the world is inescapably oriented in such a way. Further, that when we have desires that inevitably mirror such nature (spatial and temporal limits), there may be good and bad ways, better ways and worse ways, to go about accomplishing such ends. This is what I’m after here in posing lessons of travelling to Heathrow from Central London that simultaneously can coincide to help accomplish other pursuits of one’s life in parallel. The lessons I discuss are those to be applied when we want something in particular, or there are places we want to be exactly (say, on a plane at Heathrow) that follow this pattern. I offer no comment (at this time) as to what those desires should be in the first place. Today, I’m not a travel agent, but I can perhaps comment on how to make the best out of your chosen method of travel.
This Journey
In detail, we have found ourselves in Central London near Piccadilly Circus station with a flight departing in a few hours from Heathrow Terminal 2. On entering the tube station you are inevitably smothered in signs, maps, and arrows which all combine to form a clear picture that you should be getting on a Piccadilly Line train going West. So, find the Westbound platform and get on the first train that comes, right? Not so simple.
Why not so simple? You will first note that from Piccadilly Circus station, trains that go west have two end destinations (for now): Uxbridge, and Heathrow. Alright, so get on the first train you see going to Heathrow, no problem. Again, not so simple. Something to know about taking the Tube to Heathrow is that there are three Piccadilly line stations that serve three divisions of Heathrow Terminals: Terminal 1,2,3 Station, Terminal 4 Station, Terminal 5 Station. Crucially, these three stations are not arrived at linearly and sometimes are never reached at all. This is due to the two distinct Piccadilly line train routes that go through Heathrow. One of these routes (say, Route A) goes first to Terminals 1,2,3 Station, then on to Terminal 5 Station, then returns to back to London by the same route it had come. The second route (say, Route B) goes first to Terminal 4, circles back to Terminals 1,2,3 on its way back to London.
As a result, one route never goes to Terminal 5 (Route B), the other never to Terminal 4 (Route A). It is therefore possible to go to take the Westbound Piccadilly Line to Heathrow without ever actually going where you want to be (assuming the transport between the terminals is otherwise difficult, which is not much of an assumption in truth). The one additional wrinkle to be aware of is in red above, and stipulates: “Trains may wait for up to 8 minutes at Terminal 4 before continuing to Terminals 1,2,3.” Since my destination is Terminal 2, I want to be on a train that terminates at Terminal 5, rather than the train that first goes to Terminal 4, unless of course the train to Terminal 5 is not expected until more than 8 minutes after the train to Terminal 4 is expected. A lot to consider, perhaps more than initially realized. But what is there to learn on this way to Heathrow that actually applies to life and the best way to live? A few things, in fact.
Life Lessons
Lesson 1: Do only as much planning as you need to get started.
There is probably a way to time the entire trip down to the second. In fact, I’m sure there is. Google Maps, Citymapper, other websites can tell you exactly what time you need to be on step three of the second escalator, what specific square on the platform on which to stand, what seat to occupy for the easiest exit. I find such practice of obsessive planning undesirable, both practically and conceptually. There is a quote that goes like this: ‘Worry is the worst use of your imagination.’ (I won’t look it up, Tom). Along these lines, figuring out your day second by second, planning your life minute by minute, well, I believe this to be the worst use of your mind. Practically, it’s limiting — we block ourselves from greater, unanticipated outcomes because we obsessed with facts instead of concepts. It is better to know how to travel the Underground in general, rather than to know how to travel this exact route in specific.
If I had combed online schedules I might have found the most ideal train going through Piccadilly Station on route to Heahrow Terminal 2 passes at exactly 11:38am. Okay, but if the train is a minute early, the whole timing is thrown off— the Jenga block upon which my success was based has been pulled and collapsed the tower. I haven’t prepared anything other than knowing that I needed to be on that 11:38am Heathrow Terminal 2 train. Similarly, what do I do if I’m held up unexpectedly? In life, in learning, it is often better to why, rather than to know that. It is better to build Jenga towers that can withstand blocks being removed, rather than Jenga towers that stand in only specific circumstances, susceptible to easy collapse.
Further to these practical limitations, the process is negatively rigid from a conceptual standpoint. If I arrived to the platform early, and there happened to be another train in fact going to the right place, would I pass it to wait for the 11:38am train? One must always be open to the more favourable opportunity that the winds of fortune may blow into one’s path. If you can’t control all the factors in your life (and you can’t), it is no use to plan all moments of it either. Most of all, we must be ready for deviations—when the wind changes, we should know how to adjust our sails to correspond with it.
You can read as many guides as you like, search for route directions on eight different websites, but ultimately life must be lived by you, not the books that you have read. If I decide to not board the train until all potential issues have been accounted for, looking into the derailment that occurred on the line at Hammersmith Station in October 2003 (right on my way!), counting the trains per hour (is it all hours!?), and otherwise information that is too specific (what side do you stand on the escalator again?), well, you will miss the flight entirely. But at least you didn’t go the wrong way, you say. You didn’t go anywhere at all, says I.
Leave decisions that can be made later, until later. It is best to have an idea of what those decisions are but leave them in their proper place (i.e. the future). Even if I know exactly what train to get on, I can’t get on the train while from Google Maps. In the same way, the best way to figure out what side of the escalator to stand on is by watching everyone else. You can either research what side of the escalator to stand on or you can see how it actually works when you get there. Let’s say there is some dysfunction with the escalator at Piccadilly Circus that has caused there to be a switch, what side will you stand on now? Do only as much planning as you need to get started.
Lesson 2: Get on the first train you know is going is going in the correct direction; not necessarily the correct place.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.
Lao Tzu
As we saw above, when travelling west by the Piccadilly Line, there is an entirely different location one can end up in. At Acton Town the line splits, at which trains go in either the direction of Heathrow or Uxbridge. Uxbridge, and no offence to the fine people of Uxbridge—you don’t want to go here (most surely if going to Heathrow). If you find yourself on a Westbound train heading to Uxbridge (past Acton Town), you might as well be going the other way.
Nevertheless, it is always better to get on a Westbound train than an Eastbound train. James Clear says: “You don’t need to predict how everything will play out. Just master the next step and continue moving in the right direction.” The mistake of getting on the wrong Westbound train can be easily amended without suffering any measurable consequence to the end goal, only as you were headed the right direction initially. In fact, the wrong trains to Terminal 2 are actually the right trains for half the journey (if it is going to Uxbridge), and nearly all of the journey, respectively (if it is going to Terminal 4 first). As long as you get on a Westbound train, you have 10 stops (Acton Town) and 18 (Hatton Cross) stops to reassess whether the train you are on is the bestone.
Some decisions are more important than others based on the consequence of the point in time at which these decisions are made. The decision we make (or don’t make) at Acton Town is exponentially more impactful than the one at Hatton Cross. The decision we make (or don’t make) at Piccadilly Circus, however, is exponentially more impactful than the one made at Acton Town. One way to give measure to this fact is to consider the length of time it would take to amend an error. This span of time is the least at Hatton Cross, longer at Acton Town, and longest still at Piccadilly Circus. Do not stay on a train to Uxbridge (after Acton Town), but even more important, do not get on a train to Cockfosters (at any time). Thus, it is more important to go the right direction than the correct place. So, if you see a Hatton Cross train, boarding is advisable because you are completing 25/26 of the way to your destination. Because of you travel in the needed direction your ‘error’ of not being on the eventual correct is amended so easily that it can hardly be considered one. As well, should the tube suddenly cease operation, there are now a lot of easy ways to get from Hatton Cross to Heathrow on account of proximity. Worrying about the 26th step should not prevent or hinder us from completing the first one.
There is also a hindrance to trying to go to any place too specific, or in trying to skip steps. There is no use in worrying about what gate your flight leaves from when you are still to decide what train you should get on to actually arrive at the airport. It’s impossible to take the train directly to Gate 37, but it is possible to take the train to Terminal 2, which houses Gate 37. As well, on the tube there it is impossible to arrive at Heathrow without first stopping at Hatton Cross — there is no train to your destination that doesn’t stop, and nowhere for it to pass.
We make this mistake often in life, that we try to skip directly to the results and forego the necessary processes required to the achieve these results. Sometimes it is only by taking intermediate steps that further steps are revealed to us. Imagine a stairwell that starts as one but splits into two. No matter if to take the left or right path, one still must ascend the first set of stairs. You have all those steps that make up the first part of the stairway to decide whether to turn left or right, and you will gain a better view of what lies each way the higher you climb.
In life too, it is better to take the opportunity that gets us closer to our goal, even is not exactly our goal—it is more in proximity to it. The future offers more potential than is possible, and even that is foreseeable, in the present. If you decide to let a Hatton Cross train (technically wrong) pass, or a train pass that you aren’t completely sure the final destination of, all in order to to wait at for train you know for certain is a Heathrow Terminal 2 (technically correct) train that is due in 15 minutes, you miss the free chance to closer to your goal with no adverse consequence (as well as the chance to get lucky with short-turning trains). Trust your ability to think on the go, trust your capability to correct your journey in advance of it truly heading the wrong way. Paths are not closed, pre-destined, mutually exclusive structures, though some paths are certainly better, more proximate, than others. Tim Urban charts this below, “It’s all still in our hands.”
If you find yourself on the right train, great, if not, the worst case scenario is you alight from the train and get on the train you would have been on anyway, had you waited initially. Get on the first train you know is going on the correct direction, not necessary the correct place.
Lesson 3: Don’t worry about those who appear ahead of you.
Too often we look at others and judge ourselves based on where we falsely perceive these others to be. Many times at a train station, I have seen someone running for a train and suddenly decide to run for it too. However, this is a forced decision that wrongly interprets another’s frenzy interpreted as confidence. Sometimes it has turned out to be the correct train, often times it hasn’t. What I have learned, however, is that even if the train turns out to be correct, it is decidedly never the right train for me. I’m not ready to get on this train because I’m not ready to make a decision by my own means. The only positive indication I have for getting on the train is that someone ahead of me rushed for it. If they were indeed guessing and ended up in the right place, good for them, though that favourable result has little to do with your own. If rushing for a train at Acton Town, there a 50% chance (give or take the varied distribution of trains), the train is not going to Heathrow at all. Just as often through this decision making processes (or lack thereof) they would not have succeeded.
The best preparation does not yield the results in the fastest way. The fastest way to become a millionaire I can think of is to put $750 on a single number on an American roulette table, and win twice in a row, having left your winnings from the first spin in place for the second. The first victory gets you to just over $27,500, the second in excess of a million. There, a millionaire in just two spins of a red and black wheel. Of course, it also happens that this is the quickest way I can think to lose everything as well. Sometimes people appear ahead of us who have only just won the equivalent of a first roll, which has nothing to do with success of a second, or third, and so on.
So, it is oftentimes not actually evident where others are; If they had made their success through legitimate, actionable means, or simply by the red and the black; If they know they are on the right train, or they just happen to be. And most importantly, it should have nothing to do with your decision to get on that train or not. There is much discussion these days on the perils of the rat-race — a circular, cyclical status game. A rat race is essentially a competition whose only victors are all still losers. Being ahead says nothing about where they going. This is a very old story.
“You stand above the rat race and the pecking order, not outside of it, if you do so by choice.”
Nassim Nicholas Taleb
Of offshoot of this lesson is to not rush unless it is necessary to. Some times, some seconds, are more important than others; you must learn to recognize which is which. Say for example there is only one train per fifteen minutes that goes to Heathrow Terminal 5. There is no point to rushing in order to reach the platform six minutes before the train arrives rather than five. However, if you are one minute—one second—late, that one second comes at a cost of 15 minutes. Be on time when you need to be and rush when you need to. Anything in life is as stressful as you want it to be. We can either try catching trains with a second left before the door closes, or be there minutes in advance, having experienced no stress at all.
If you are so fortunate to find yourself on the best train, your work should not suddenly be over. Many get on what is at first the right train, fall asleep, and simply hope to awake where they were hoping to go (and initially were headed). It is not necessary to operate in a constant state of doubt, but it is important to be open to changing circumstances, to be prepared to adapt to new opportunities. So that is, disregard people that have jumped on the first train that they have seen, who have won a roll of roulette, and perhaps disregard people who don’t seem to be doing anything at all. They are due to lose at some point, due to head in the wrong direction at some point. But not you, and the biggest loser of all will be you for following them in spite of your better judgement. “Come on, this is the train to Heathrow,” says a (sweaty) face in front of you at Acton Town (where the Piccadilly Line splits). You aren’t sure; yes, it could be the train to Heathrow, but you know more than to board the train. Don’t worry about those that are ahead of you.
Conclusion
A journey to the airport, this journey to Heathrow Terminal 2, is like the journey to the lives we want to lead, the procession of life. We are going somewhere, and there is a limit to when we can get there. It is important to remember that we need not all get what we want, in the same time, by the same measure. However, we can get there, get on the way there, nevertheless, through a well-reasoned, confident, repeatable, process primarily based on personal agency and individuality. Do only as much planning as you need to get started. Get on the first train you know is going is going in the correct direction; not necessarily the correct place. Don’t worry about those who appear ahead of you. The only right way is your own.
If you ask for help, ask for advice to get started, not advice on where to finish. Know who you are talking to, and who you aren’t talking to. For example, the multitude of workers at any given tube station will know which platform you need to get to, which train to get on, but not which gate your flight leaves from at Heathrow. And they don’t know how to work out the issues you are having with your brother, either, despite their impressive ability to name every station on the tube map. What does one have to do with the other, or anything else?
We can take these same practices from travelling to Heathrow and apply them to life, especially to goals and desires that have spatial-temporal consequences. There will always be opportunity for ‘finding what we are looking for along the way’, or hoping that whatever we have chosen to pursue works out in the end, but the airport, concretely, is not one of these places. I’m sure there is another plane, and there very well may be another life, but there certainly is this one. One can prepare as much as possible, but delays, changes, crowds, general unpredictability nevertheless necessitate decisions on the fly. So it is on the way to Heathrow in the belly of the beast of the Underground, so it is in life. Remember, stay your own course, and that that course need not be but one path. For there is lots of room in the sky, though not all planes are able to take off at once.
We may not arrive at our port within a calculable period, but we would preserve the true course. There is more day left to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.
Henry David Thoreau
Thank you for reading. To journeys, of past, present, and future.
Charlie | @charliesherritz
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Many thanks to John Hellion (@johnhellion) for fighting through a messy draft of this piece. If you are yet to come across his excellent essays, they can be found on his Substack.
