By Hiran de Silva
The Literal Direction vs. The Lateral Explanation
A story about how we learn, who we trust, and why so many of us end up in the swamp.
A tourist stands in the bustling streets of Agra and asks a local,
“Which way to the Taj Mahal?”
The local, kind and confident, points straight ahead.
The tourist thanks him and sets off with enthusiasm.
A few minutes later, he arrives — not at the Taj Mahal — but at the edge of a swamp.
There’s no bridge, no path, and no way forward.
That’s when the tourist realises the question he asked — and the answer he received — were both literal.
He asked, “Which way?”
But the real question was, “How do I get there?”
The difference between the two is everything.
The right answer would have required more understanding — not just of geography, but of purpose and obstacles. It would have required the local to think laterally, to consider why the question was being asked and what the real outcome needed to be. It might have required saying:
“You’ll need to go around that way — take the main road, cross the bridge, and turn left after the market.”
But that takes time, context, and care — three things social media doesn’t reward.
The Parallel with Social Media Learning
Social media, like our friendly but literal guide, gives literal answers to literal questions.
It rewards clarity, speed, and confidence — not depth, nuance, or long-term outcomes.
The tourist walking confidently toward the swamp represents what we see every day in online learning:
Thousands — sometimes millions — of people following simple, polished instructions… to the wrong place.
The measure of success, however, remains unchanged.
Views go up. Likes go up. Comments pour in: “Great tip!” “So clear!” “You’re a genius!”
The tour guide becomes a celebrity.
But the tourists remain stuck — confident, entertained, and misdirected.
That’s the paradox of our digital age:
The more “liked” the guidance, the more dangerous it may be for those seeking genuine progress.
The Hello World Illusion
Most Excel content online — especially on social media — is a feature demonstration looking for a problem.
A new or existing feature is showcased through an isolated scenario designed to make that feature look clear, useful, and elegant.
This construct is what programmers call a “Hello World.”
It’s a controlled sandbox — a tiny, artificial example designed to show that something works, but not necessarily how it works in the real world.
We need to understand that social media content exists purely for this purpose.
Even when the example appears to resemble a familiar business situation — a budget sheet, an expense tracker, an HR form — it is still only a simulation.
The training video is showing how the feature works, not how to reach your destination.
It’s not claiming to be the best path, nor even a path that will succeed in your real-world environment.
Because that would depend entirely on your outcome, your context, and your constraints.
Understanding this helps us remain respectful toward creators while staying realistic about what we can expect from their content.
They are not misleading us — we are often misunderstanding the nature of what they are teaching.
They are demonstrating features; we are seeking outcomes.
This distinction changes everything.
It reframes our relationship with online learning — from passive consumption to conscious evaluation.
The Lesson
If we rely solely on social media for our education, our skills, or our career direction, we must understand the nature of the medium.
It was built to engage, not to enlighten.
It was built to point, not to guide.
When we measure success by likes, views, and comments, we’re measuring the popularity of the pointing, not the effectiveness of the journey.
The swamp becomes invisible in the statistics.
The Call to Awareness
So what do we do?
We start by becoming conscious travellers.
We ask ourselves why we are asking the question — not just what question we are asking.
We stop confusing clarity with correctness.
We stop mistaking confidence for competence.
When you seek instruction — in Excel, in business, or in life — ask yourself:
Am I learning how the tool works, or how to reach my destination?
Am I studying the bicycle, or am I studying the route?
A thousand tutorials can teach you how to ride —
but none of them will warn you about the swamp.
The Beginning of a Manifesto
This is where my manifesto begins.
A manifesto for lateral thinkers — for those who want to reach their Taj Mahal, not just set off in its general direction.
It’s a manifesto for those who have realised that literal answers often conceal the real lessons.
The next part of this journey is about defining your destination.
Because before you can decide how to get there, you must know why you want to go there.
In other words — Who is your customer?
Why do you want to learn Excel?
Who are you ultimately serving — yourself, your boss, or your organisation’s future?
Those are the questions that lead beyond the swamp —
and towards the real Taj Mahal.
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