Where are they now? Ariel Hoffman

As I get older, I become more and more convinced that every person will one day be called on an Exodus. For some, it’s sparked by a great upheaval - the splitting of seas. More often, it arrives quietly - disguised as something ordinary. Mine started with a math problem.

I was building AI for self-driving trucks at the time. I wrote a proof that demonstrated a software component was insufficient. Mathematically, this was not a hard proof, but it was very, very bad news. A team of 30+ people had been working on this component for more than a year under a man named Maximus and another team of about 60 more had been facilitating this. However, the component posed a safety risk. Remember: I work on self-driving trucks. We could kill someone .

I lay in bed and prayed for wisdom. It is harder than it sounds to present this kind of information. It wasn't really my job and I might have been wrong. What's more - I was sure to offend somebody no matter how I framed it. I wonder if Moses agonized about his sanity before acknowledging the burning bush. But as I lay there, I imagined a self-driving truck barreling down the highway. I imagined the accident scene - a plausible worst case scenario - and I imagined a woman, weeping over her lost child due to my inaction.

I wrote my senior thesis about the pursuit of truth. Truth is still a driving factor in my life. Right or wrong, I had to engage with the burning bush. I presented the proof to my chain of command and at first they ordered me to not tell anyone. I double and triple checked my work and finally told them I would be sharing the information or resigning. Then they did something unexpected: they asked me to fix the insufficiency. However, out of respect for the 30 people building the official solution, I was required to work in secret and alone. My manager warned me: “I hope you know you're taking a risk with your career.” I did, but I kept seeing that woman - hearing her almost. That was the last I saw of Egypt.

I read paper after paper and obsessed over the solution. There was an experimental approach I decided to try. After a few months, I built something we could probably use. I needed to test it in integration, so one way or another, the secret was going to come out and hundreds of people were about to discover that I had built a stealth project to replace the function of an official team. When I presented the new component to Maximus, I tried to spin it as a potential cross team success story, but it didn't work.

Maximus forbade his employees from working with me or even attending my tech talks. Another director in charge of about 60 people followed suit. In a private meeting, one of Maximus' reports said rather apologetically that he thought I was right, but he couldn't support me publicly. Another one formally supported me and ended up resigning over it. A few publicly disliked me. Most awkwardly avoided me. I asked to meet with Maximus to fix things and find ways to collaborate, but he made it clear in a slack message that he didn't care about me or any future professional relations with me and then refused all 1-1 meetings for a year.

I started wearing red dresses and buying meals for strangers during this time. I felt like I had a scarlet letter. When I first read that Hester engaged in quiet acts of charity, I assumed she did it because she was charitable. I now think she did it because she was lonely. She was in the desert too.

That said, God was shining in the distance and I still had a job to do. Maximus’ customers - like me - were quite worried about the flaw in the system. They were willing to take the risk of integrating with my component to run an experiment. I tested my part with 3 different systems. I almost could not believe it: all 3 experiments worked! I exhaled. God performed a miracle. Suddenly, everyone wanted to collaborate. I could not onboard teams fast enough. Important people were publicly cheering me on. The CEO and CTO were in my court.

Over the next few weeks, a lot of things changed. First, Maximus and I made up: he apologized for giving me the silent treatment for a year and I apologized for not understanding his communication style. The apologies were not exactly on point, but at least we tried. Second, the project was given substantially more funding and I was publicly recognized for my work. And third, the project was reorganized under Maximus and Maximus was given a clear directive to support it. Everything worked out, but something inside me twisted.

Whenever I saw Maximus’ name pop up in slack it made my stomach turn. Why should that guy get to own the project? Isn't he the one who tried to stop me again and again? Isn't he the one who got a whole team of people to hate me? Don't they still? I worked on another experimental project and it was a success. My new project was also eventually reorganized under Maximus. More twisting. Didn't he tell everyone it would never work? Didn't he treat me like dirt? Didn't I take all the risk? I looked in the mirror, red dress on, wondering if I deserved the scarlet letter after all.

I lay in my bed and prayed for wisdom. I imagined myself playing politics and gossiping. I imagined forgetting the woman, bit by bit and I imagined winning . Innovation has always been my super power. I imagined using it to show him up. I thought of Moses disobediently striking the rock. I was already well on the way to becoming a monster.

My little daughter interrupted my meditations. She is two and has beautiful, comically large eyes. She wanted to tell me a joke about camels. I had been on a fast track to promotion, but I have five children. If I become a monster, what would happen to her? She copies everything I do. When I first read about Sonya, a part of me thought she did the best thing she could in the situation. I can't judge her of course, but now that I'm older, I feel in my bones she got it wrong. It is better to die in the desert. My daughter climbed into my lap and told me the joke.

I resolved to do my best in transferring the projects to Maximus' team and after it was finished, I resigned. Moses wasn’t called to enter the promised land and neither was I, but I don’t regret any of it. I followed Truth, I followed God, and I didn’t become a monster. Before I left, I set up a meeting with Maximus and wished him well. It seemed to me God was calling me to do that also.

After leaving Ridgeview, I set out looking for Truth and I learned a few things along the way. Perhaps the most important lesson I learned is that the battle of good versus evil isn't a battle between me and those people. It is a battle between me and… me. As you start your journey, give yourself every advantage you can: think it through. How will you remain good through pain? Loneliness? Loss? Following God, unprovisioned, into the desert, is painful and scary, but it is also a grand adventure. Live your journey well.