Somewhere above the clouds, somewhere between New Delhi and Milan, I found myself once again watching that same 10-minute video about flight safety procedures.
You know the one: Seatbelt. Oxygen mask. Life jacket. Exit doors. Brace position.
All delivered with sterile enthusiasm, performed by impeccably dressed avatars who seem to float more than walk.
Let’s be honest: I’ve probably watched these videos hundreds of times over the years. I could recite most of them by heart.
And yet, if something actually happened (turbulence, emergency landing, real-life chaos), there’s a very real chance I’d be utterly useless.
Like: “Wait… where’s the life jacket again? Under which seat?”
I don’t think it’s just me (although, full disclosure: at soccer school, I was always the last one to learn new drills.). I suspect there’s something deeper going on.
We mistake learning for doing.
We confuse watching with understanding.
Knowing with being able to.
Reading with experiencing.
It’s a trap. Both educational and existential.
Wouldn’t it be more effective if, instead of passively rewatching, every flier had to do a 30-minute refresher once a year, with real actions?
Unbuckle the seatbelt. Locate the exits. Practice the brace position.
Just once. Just to feel what it’s like.
Because reading about driving isn’t driving.
Learning public speaking isn’t public speaking.
Dreaming about kissing isn’t kissing.
Now that I’m mid-air, fresh from the UIA Governing Board in India (a brilliant gathering, by the way, with Agra and Taj Mahal as the cherry on top), I can’t help but think how this applies to our latest obsession: artificial intelligence.
Everyone’s talking about it.
Articles. Panels. Webinars. Conferences.
LinkedIn posts filled with buzzwords and GPT-generated carousels.
But how many people actually prompt on a regular basis?
How many have created a custom GPT?
Tested workflows?
Failed, iterated, experimented with the tool like you would with a new language?
Theory gives us vocabulary. Practice gives us fluency. And the gap between knowing and being able is the same as the gap between watching flight videos and bracing for impact.
Between reading about design thinking and running a workshop.
Between learning about empathy and actually listening to someone who’s hurting.
Between studying leadership and lead your company during a crisis.
We need both.
But let’s not pretend they’re interchangeable.
So maybe next time you find yourself reading about something, ask yourself: “When was the last time I actually did it?”
Because the real learning – messy, unpredictable, powerful – often starts only when the video ends.
