Although an underwater link
between Britain and France is a modern wonder, the origin of the idea is more
dated. In 1802, Albert Mathieu, a mining engineer from France, made a proposal
to Napoleon Bonaparte that, to most, seemed
like a crazy idea. Mathieu suggested that a wooden, underwater carriageway be
built, connecting the two often-conflicting nations. To the ridicule of many,
he anticipated gas lamps and candles providing illumination, horse-drawn
carriages as transport and ventilation pipes, sticking out of the top of the
water, installed at appropriate intervals, to handle the smoke. He advised that
an artificial island be constructed in the middle, for changing horses. If
trained engineers
and common people scoffed at
Mathieu’s idea, the diplomatic corps correctly
warned that the
current peace between France and
England would not last and that an open connection between two contesting
nations wasn’t prudent. Through the years, both British and French military leaders
opposed the idea and the notion languished, with many experts rejecting it as impractical
and unsafe. When British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher acknowledged that
she would not continue to oppose the idea, if it was funded privately, it
gained new momentum. After a design contest, digging began on opposite sides of
the Channel, resulting in the breakthrough which gave us today’s modern Chunnel.
I am grateful for Margaret Thatcher,
Francois Mitterrand, the Queen of England, Phillippe Cozette and Graham Fogg,
along with a cast of thousands of unknown others who, over time, worked to make
this happen. My wanderlust and travel schedule have personally benefitted from
their ingenuity, engineering and entrepreneurship. But, today, I am thanking
God for no less than Albert Mathieu, whom some surely referred to as “Crazy Al,”
when he first had the idea. While many at the time ridiculed Albert and his absurd idea, with apologies to my
English professors, today, I want to say that I am glad that he thunk it up! By dreaming the impossible
and proposing the improbable, Albert Mathieu moved the unthinkable closer and
made it imaginable. When he suggested the outlandish idea, it became, as a
consequence, slightly less unreasonable.
By dreaming and scheming along these seemingly absurd lines, Albert initiated a flowing stream of consciousness enabling later-day engineers, economists,
diplomats, soldiers, government officials and ordinary people to keep the
notion afloat until it could become doable.
To my way of thinking, we need
more people like Albert. Of course, proposing the unthinkable must always be
guarded by other, boundary-keeping, values. Simply having bizarre ideas is not
what I am praising. But, in a day in which our differences with others seem to
define us and hold us hostage, I want to take a page from Albert’s book and
propose that we work on impossible-sounding ideas – especially those that
relate to connecting cultures and peoples who often are in conflict. Let’s
dream with Albert about how we can erect better emotional and intellectual bridges
between the shores of vastly differing worldviews. Let’s get over the fear of
open connections with those with whom we disagree and figure out how to meet in the middle. Let’s consider how
to build a better mousetrap, but also how to devise a better way to reduce the
mouse-like characteristics that make rats of all of us, at times.
Will you drive your little horse-drawn
mental carriage with me, down the wooden planks of this lantern-lit idea,
holding your breath and looking for a way to ventilate the smoky implications
of this ridiculous-on-the-face-of-it idea?
God, give us many who are willing
to envision what others think are outlandish dreams!
