Jacobs Well Fall 2019 Trust

The real story of Columbus is much less exciting.
The debate over his travels was not about the shape
of the earth, but rather about its size and the relative
positions of the continents. The best estimates of
his day (dating back to Ptolemy in the 2nd century)
were that the known world of Europe, Asia, and
Africa measured 180° in longitude. The other half
of the planet was ocean to be traversed. Eager to
get on his way with the crown’s support, Columbus
used a more generous (and generally rejected)
225° across. He added 28° more based on Marco
Polo’s travels, fudged Japan out another 30°, and
gave himself another 9° for leaving from the Canary
Islands. On top of spacing out the known world, he
made some unit errors in his assumptions of the
curvature of the earth, making the planet about 25%
too small. At the end of the day, Columbus estimated
a voyage of just 2,400 miles to reach Japan—less
than a quarter of the actual distance of 10,600 miles.
With his crew on the verge of starvation when they
happened upon the New World, Columbus turned
out to be very wrong, but very lucky.
The modern flat-earth myth, which held that
ancient and backward societies thought the earth
was flat until Columbus proved otherwise is, after
thriving for hundreds of years, at last finding its
way to the scrap bin of human ideas. The idea of a
medieval “dark age” is slowly following. Unfortunately,
some of the other myths that go along with
these—the notion that social progress is clean, linear,
and always easy to recognize, or that science and
religion are diametrically opposed—have so far
proven more durable. But while we hope for the
day when those, too, are discredited, we can also
take away some lessons here for our own lives. The
historical arc of the flat-earth myth might remind
us to be more humble and to hold our own assumptions
a little more lightly. It may remind us to look
for wisdom in both ancient and modern sources.
And it should certainly alert to be skeptical about
simplistic stories—especially when they tell us what
we want to hear.
Noah Beck is vice president of active equities at
the investment-management firm Research Affiliates.
He previously worked as a rocket scientist at
Boeing and studied science and religion at Fuller
Theological Seminary. He lives with his wife and
three children in Laguna Nigel, California.
jacob's well 36