Hope over fear
In the 1970s, Ed Catmull had a dream that seemed impossible: to create the first fully computer-animated feature film. At the time, computers were slow, animation was painstakingly manual, and Hollywood had zero interest in digital filmmaking. Traditional animators saw computers as a threat, and studios dismissed the idea as a technological fantasy. The fear of failure—or worse, irrelevance—kept most people in the industry clinging to the status quo.
But Catmull chose hope over fear. He didn’t know exactly how it would happen, but he believed it was possible. Instead of waiting for the perfect conditions, he moved forward in uncertainty, solving one problem at a time.
He started at the New York Institute of Technology, then joined Lucasfilm, where he developed groundbreaking computer graphics technology. Even when progress was slow, even when the industry doubted him, he pressed forward. Eventually, he and his team built the Pixar Imaging Computer—technology so advanced that Steve Jobs saw its potential and acquired Pixar in 1986.
For nearly 20 years, Catmull pursued his vision without knowing exactly when—or if—it would succeed. Then, in 1995, Toy Story was released, forever changing the film industry.
Catmull’s journey wasn’t just about technological innovation. It was about navigating the unprecedented—moving forward without a clear map, trusting that solutions would emerge along the way. This is what choosing hope looks like.
The Science: Why Fear Feels More Real Than Hope
Our brains are storytelling machines. The moment we face uncertainty, the brain starts writing a script to explain it. The problem? It defaults to fear-based narratives.
This happens because of how our brain evolved:
The limbic system, especially the amygdala, is wired for survival. It acts fast, scanning for danger and crafting instant, cautionary stories: “This won’t work.” “Something bad will happen.” “I’m not good enough.”
The prefrontal cortex, responsible for reasoning and imagination, is slower. It has the ability to rewrite these fear-based stories—but it takes conscious effort.
Fear-based thinking is efficient because it helps us react quickly. But in modern life, where uncertainty is often about change, not danger, these instinctive fear responses can hold us back. If we’re not careful, we end up living in a narrative that fear wrote for us.
Hope, then, is about taking back the pen. It’s choosing to tell a different story—one that acknowledges risk but still leaves room for possibility.
How to Choose Hope in Uncertainty
Start with Gratitude and Generosity – Fear contracts; hope expands. When we express gratitude or show generosity, our brain shifts from scarcity to abundance. Even in uncertainty, there is always something to be thankful for and someone to help. Want to feel less afraid? Write down three things you’re grateful for, or send a message of encouragement to someone. It’s impossible to stay fully in fear while actively practicing generosity.
Focus on What You Can Control – Fear fixates on the unknown; hope focuses on the next step. Ed Catmull didn’t know when Pixar would succeed—he just kept solving the next problem in front of him. Ask yourself: What small action can I take today?
Reframe Uncertainty as Possibility – Instead of seeing the unknown as something to fear, recognize it as a space for innovation. Uncertainty means that new solutions are still possible. Fear says, “This might not work.” Hope says, “This might change everything.”
Surround Yourself with Believers – Hope thrives in community. Catmull didn’t build Pixar alone; he surrounded himself with people who shared his vision. Seek out those who encourage possibility, not just certainty.
Choosing hope doesn’t mean ignoring risk—it means refusing to be paralyzed by it. Ed Catmull stepped into the unknown, not because he had all the answers, but because he believed they could be found along the way. And that’s exactly how the impossible becomes reality.
