I WAS driving home late one night when my GPS suggested I detour from my usual route and turn into a quiet road. Without thinking twice, I followed it.
Suddenly I was in a part of the city that was dark and quiet.
I drove down the road warily, peering into an engulfing darkness. I saw nothing except lonely warehouses, abandoned rows of empty shoplots and the occasional working streetlights punctuating the dark night.
I looked at the dashboard clock. 12.04am.
I pressed on, hoping for civilisation to pop out around a corner but the road seemed just an endless circle of darkness dotted by the eerie rhythmic appearances of silent warehouses and shoplots.
A little worried, I turned up the music and hummed nervously, half-joking to myself that I must be in a weird episode of The Twilight Zone.
After what seemed like an eternity, I saw something in the distance.
I drove closer.
It was a traffic light, all by itself, at a junction, displaying a bright red light.
I slowly came to a stop, feeling strange that in this desolate place devoid of vehicles, there was a lone traffic light telling me what to do.
I wondered who would put the traffic light here.
Maybe this area was once busy. The empty shoplots and warehouses did indicate an active past.
But, it was clear that progress had moved on from here. In the ever-changing ebb and flow of a city’s life, some areas thrive, some areas get left behind.
This area definitely got left behind.
That all meant nothing to this proud traffic light, still instructing, still doing its job even if that job wasn’t useful any more.
This struck me. The traffic light mirrored how we sometimes get stuck in life.
Sometimes, we insist on doing things like how we’ve always done them, even if the world has changed. We fail to move with the times, clinging on to behaviours that once helped us to grow, but now are obsolete.
I’ve seen enough organisations falter when their business environment change but they remain with their old ways, lost in meaningless traditions and policies.
They forget that organisations are usually born from an entrepreneur bent on changing the world with a crazy idea. Things had to move fast. Get the consumers now! Surprise the competition! Make decisions quickly! It was go, go, go.
Once the business grew and more people were involved, it would require a better organisation than its chaotic entrepreneurial beginnings. More rules and policies would need to be created, written and unwritten.
And, if it became a public-listed entity answerable to shareholders, then it needed even more rigorous sets of rules and policies to ensure order and safety.
Just like roads. At first, when there was little traffic, there wasn’t any need for a traffic light. As traffic grew, a stop sign would be enough to make people stop, look and go.
Things would still move fast. Further growth in traffic would require roundabouts to keep things running smoothly, not needing to stop anyone longer than necessary. If the roads become super busy, then traffic lights would be installed.
Traffic lights to ensure order and safety. Appropriate rules at appropriate levels of growth.
With its world changed, this traffic light was doing something unnecessary. What are the things we are still doing out of habit but are unnecessary? What behaviours halt our progress?
When our world changes, do our activities, policies and way of thinking change as well to stay relevant?
Does this traffic light know it’s irrelevant? Does it know it’s stopping progress? At least my progress? I could have been home by now if not for having to stop in the middle of nowhere because this traffic light refused to change with the times.
Things change all the time. And, so must we.
I contemplated running the red light. It has been red for a long time. I revved the car. If I ran the red light, no one will see me, right? And, with zero traffic no one will be hurt, right? But, what sort of example would I be setting? But, I could have been home by now, maybe reading a book, watching a movie, playing music, learning something new.
I began to sweat. I put the car into gear, and then I …
The writer, Ahmad Izham Omar will never say if he ever broke the law.