In a land far, far away, a great grapevine grew in the center of the world. It had stood there for hundreds of years. The vine was miraculous; it never ran out of fruit, constantly reproducing its sweet, purple grapes the moment they were plucked. Their flavor was so intoxicatingly sweet that no one could resist them.
But the Ruler of the land watched her people with concern. She knew that if they continued to consume these grapes, they would eventually become numb, foolish, and trapped in a cycle of easy pleasure.
She spent years laboring to create something better—a new fruit that could break the curse of the grape and sharpen the minds of her people. Finally, she introduced her creation: a blueberry vine. She expected her people to welcome this groundbreaking gift with open arms.
Instead, they met her with harsh criticism. They defamed her, offended her ideas, and treated her innovation as if it were a contamination. The blueberries, which she had worked so hard to perfect, were left to rot and were quickly disregarded. To the people, the new fruit served no purpose because it was too different.
The Ruler realized that her people were obsessed with the familiar. If they wanted grapes, she would give them grapes—but with a slight change. It took her only a short time to produce a new crop. They were the exact same grapes as before, but instead of purple, they were pink.
When she introduced this "new" fruit, the land erupted in celebration. They praised her as a genius, cheering for her invention. The same people who had insulted her now adored and admired her, calling her the most brilliant person to ever exist.
The pink grapes quickly replaced the purple ones. People fought over them, claiming they had more flavor and were far sweeter than the old fruit. Soon, the purple grapes were forgotten, and the pink became their new life.
The Ruler watched from her throne as her people fondled the pink fruit—a thing that was identical to the old, save for its color. She realized then that as long as an invention feels familiar and brings a sense of comfort and hollow satisfaction, the people will accept it.
She looked at the crowd and smiled a cold, tired smile. She knew that when enough time passed, she would simply make the grapes yellow, and she was certain they would praise her as a genius all over again, even though she had changed nothing at all.