In Defense of Ambition

“No need to fly as high as anyone else, fly only as far as you can manage. Your way of flying needn’t be like anyone’s, just fly to reach your dream, and that’s enough.”

A child’s clear voice became a nationwide viral hit. The clip was shared, discussed, and cut into short videos, and it turned into a phrase many people use to comfort themselves on days when the world isn’t being kind. In a world where everyone is tired from competing, this phrase feels soothing.

It lets us retreat to the soft corner called “sufficiency.” It lets us put our goals down and tell ourselves, “It’s okay, we don’t have to be as high as everyone else.”

But after we’ve hidden in that corner for long enough, a question may start to whisper to us. What if “we” could fly much farther than that? What if “our dream” is big enough to change our whole life, and other people’s lives? What if “no need to fly high” has turned into the cage that keeps us in?

I recently read a post comparing Vietnam and Thailand. One point said that Thai people are “easygoing, which reflects a lack of drive and less urgency than workers of other nationalities.” It made me think about how this idea became part of Thai identity.

It’s possible the phrase matches what Thai culture has always taught us. We grew up with Buddhism, which teaches us to want little and be content (the ten Kathavatthu, the topics of conversation fit for monks). Some people’s success may be seen as depending on merit and destiny: not everyone can succeed, but everyone can be equally happy, because happiness lies inside the heart. We grew up with the proverb “do good but don’t stand out, or it will bring you harm.” We grew up with the Sufficiency Economy philosophy, which draws a line in the middle and says “this much is already good.”

Many times, we also grew up avoiding competition and conflict. We try not to confront things directly or talk openly about what makes us uncomfortable. There is the saying “the loser is a monk, the winner is a demon,” which tells us it’s better to yield and keep the peace than to insist on winning until things get out of hand. (I won’t try to analyze whether this phrase is a contemporary narrative that has been pushed systematically or something organic, because I think it could be either.)

None of this is wrong. It makes Thai people know when enough is enough, stay humble, and know how to step back to reduce conflict. It lets us live in a society where we don’t exploit each other much. It lets many people get by even when they don’t have much.

But there is another word in Thai culture that makes me think: “ambitious” (ทะเยอทะยาน). It sounds more like a criticism than praise. Yet in English, ambition is fuel for growth.

I lived in America for more than ten years, and one sentence I particularly like is “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars,” by Norman Vincent Peale. Put simply, aim for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll still be among the stars. It teaches us to emphasize ambition, to be “brave” enough to dream far (an ambitious goal), and to value the effort of pursuing that dream.

To make this clearer, I’d like everyone to rethink what the word ambition feels like, instead of the Thai word’s possibly negative meaning. Ambition comes from the Latin ambitio, which means “going around”: Roman politicians walking around the city, around the tables, around the senate, to persuade people to vote for them. So the word emphasizes effort and a desire to succeed (a strong desire for achievement, power, or distinction).

I’d like all of us to have effort and drive, the kind that is ambition. I’d like everyone to know that the “effort” along the way, ours, our colleagues’, everyone around us, is a small step that moves us closer to the stars of our dreams.

Some people may see the idea I like as a Western idea, not one for Asians like us. Japan, for example, has a saying that roughly means “the nail that sticks out gets hammered down,” which is similar in not wanting to stand out above others. But Japan also has the idea of effort, a society of effort (社会での頑張る), and of continuous improvement, kaizen (改善). They may not like people who stand out too much, but they love people who work hard enough that they “can fly,” without saying much.

And us? Maybe we fold our own wings before we even try to fly, because we’re afraid people will find us annoying. Because we’re afraid that if we fail, people will say “See? I told you so…” Because we’re afraid that if we fly and fall, no one will be there to catch us.

What is sad is that Thai society is one of the few where talented children are taught to keep their talent quiet. People with fire are warned not to be too ambitious. People who want to go far are asked to stay at a “just right” pace for now.

This may be why the phrase “no need to fly as high as anyone else” feels accessible and relatable. Because it’s safe. Because it doesn’t make us fight anything. Because it suits a society that accepts “everyone has their own merit and fate” more than it believes anyone can change their fate.

But that’s yesterday’s story. Today the world changes fast. Today, staying still is automatically falling back. Today, people who dare to fly “even without fully formed wings” have more opportunity.

I’m not telling us to compete with everyone. I’m not telling us we must fly higher than everyone. But I want to say this: don’t fold your wings just because you see others flying and you’re not ready yet.

Flying doesn’t have to mean higher than anyone else. It’s never daring to fly at all that is the real pity.

We don’t need to compete in order to win. We might “fly only as far as we want to go.” But first we have to dare to want to go far, not only as far as others feel comfortable with us reaching.

The world is changed by people who dare to dream. A country is changed by people who dare to be ambitious. A society grows through people who aren’t afraid of being asked “aren’t you being a bit too ambitious?”

Sometimes we have to stop asking other people for permission to dream, and start daring to fly in our own sky. May everyone fly farther than anyone who says “that’s enough.”

Let me leave you with another version of the verse. It may not go viral like the child’s, but I want people who have been through hard times to see it and find the strength to dream farther:

“Though the road is lonely, dare to dream, reach the moon, go farther than anyone. Don’t stop flying just because the wind is light, the dream you’ve kept may be hiding among the stars.”

Because in the end, no one knows how far we can go if we never once try to “fly high.”