Should we Push the Button? - Picture Book turned Philosophy
The idea didn’t start as a philosophy.
It started as a children’s picture book.
I wrote ‘Should We Push the Button?’ as a playful, curious story — the kind that invites kids to wonder what might happen if they just try. Actually, that book is a sequel to another picture book I created titled ‘What’s in the box?’ Which is also about curiosity and imagination.
After I created the button book for some strange reason I’m not entirely sure why. I thought about making art prints in a Bauhaus style featuring the big red button from the book and the question, should we push the button? This birthed a philosophy, the button philosophy which explains the poster. Bold, simple visuals and one little question.
Should we Push the button?
At first it was light and silly, just a bit of fun maybe a strange marketing campaign. Or a prompt for imagination.
I started to really think about it, about the posters about the question, about the button. What is the button really what does it mean and why are we questioning whether to push it or not. Is the button a metaphor? And where does this metaphor apply? In work and business, in creative projects, in decisions I was avoiding, in dreams unfulfilled and goals not ticked off. The question wasn’t just for kids anymore.
It was for me. And for others who need to push a button.
What does pushing the button mean now?
Most of us don’t necessarily struggle with ideas, plans, goals, wishes, desires, dreams. We have those things, sometimes in abundance.
We struggle with beginnings, with starting, with having a go, with turning talk and thought into action.
We hesitate. We procrastinate. We tell ourselves we’ll start “when the time is right,” only to carry around the quiet weight of regret later. The what if. The sense that something could have been different if we’d just taken the first step.
We don’t push the button.
And the reason is rarely laziness, it’s fear. Fear of what comes after the start, of what might or might not happen, of failing, of looking silly and god forbid of what others might say and think. And somehow in the moment we envision this as a worse outcome than not trying at all, why? Because regret comes so much later.
Pushing the button doesn’t finish anything. It commits you to the work.
So what does the button even do?
Somewhere along the way, many people decided not to start. We think that means we can’t fail we’ve come to believe that this is the safe path. That pressing go should come with certainty, clarity, or a guaranteed outcome. And the uncertainty then breeds reluctance, so we don’t push the button.
The button simply represents initiation. The beginning. The moment you choose to stop thinking about doing something and actually start to do it.
The real work starts after.
Not starting isn’t safe, doesn’t protect you from failure, not that failure is something you should be protected from.
If you don’t start you will never know if you could do it. And not knowing, not finding out, not having a go only leads to one destination, down one path to a feeling of regret.
Failure is better than regret
So, should you push the button?
Here’s the honest answer:
If you’re willing to put in the work — yes.
Not because it will succeed.
Not because it will be easy.
But because it might work and finding out is better than not knowing.
It might not work too and that is OK
Failing is fine
Because failure teaches you something that hesitation never will.
You can try and fail. That’s possible. But failure gives you answers. It gives you feedback. It teaches you what doesn’t work, what needs adjusting, and what you’d do differently next time. Or that this wasn’t ever the right thing and you had a go and now you know for sure.
Regret, on the other hand, offers nothing. Just ambiguity. Just unanswered questions. What ifs and what could have beens.
I’d rather live with the pain of failure than the weight of not knowing.
Each start changes you
When you push the button and begin, you’re no longer in the same position you were before regardless of the outcome.
You’ve learned something and you’ve shifted, and you have gathered information.
So, when you start again (and there will always be another start) you do so from a different place. A more informed place a stronger one.
This is progress.
Not through perfect execution, but through repeated action.
Push the button to start a machine
Here’s another way I’ve come to think about it.
Pushing the button doesn’t make the machine run.
It turns the power on.
After that, there are levers to pull, switches to hit and gears to adjust. You still must figure out how the machine works and whether it’s even the right machine for you.
Most people never turn the power on. They stand there wondering if they could operate it, without ever finding out if they can.
And if you discover you can’t? That’s okay. You can find a different machine with a different button to start it.
Some people push one button in their life. Others push many. They try, they fail, they learn, and they grow.
From children’s books to something bigger
What’s surprised me most is where this idea came from.
A children’s book that inspired a series of prints which when trying to justify their existence birthed this thought, this philosophy.
A simple question.
Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just a story and started becoming a framework. One that resonates with creative work, leadership, and life.
I don’t know yet whether Should we Push the Button becomes a bigger body of work, a chapter in something else, or simply a lens I use to make decisions. But I do know this:
When you think, should we push the button?
Do it…..
Push. Learn. Repeat.
Here is where I’ve landed.
Should we push the button? = YES
Try the thing.
Put in the work.
Fail if you must and learn regardless.
And then — push the next button.
Let’s see what happens.
Start a Riot.