5 Connections, 5 Insights: 21-25 of 100

Project Horizon is a global conversation experiment by executive coach and high-performance consultant Tim Dutton. It aims to uncover diverse human perspectives by connecting with 100 remarkable people worldwide, linked through six referral-based chains.

ON THE GO? LISTEN TO THE INSIGHTS 🎧

21. Northern Irish military combatives expert (Chain 6 Starter)

22. OnlyFans adult model

23. Brazilian post-doctoral researcher in education policy, living in Japan

24. Author/ghost writer for famous personalities

25. Chinese PhD researcher in marine conservation, living in Japan

In my previous full-time role, I worked for the UK’s elite military as a human performance specialist. As I was nearing the end of my time there, one of the units decided to take on a charity challenge.

The Welsh 3000 is a physical test where people hike the 15 highest mountains in Snowdonia. The goal is to complete the 50 km route, which includes more than 3000 feet of elevation, in under 24 hours.

This group decided to double the objective. Forty-eight hours. One hundred kilometres. Over 6000 feet of elevation.

The first reason was that these men embraced challenges like no other. Adversity made them feel alive.
The second, and more important reason, was that the charity they were raising money for was close to home. It was called Elsie’s Story.

Elsie’s Story was set up in memory of Elsie Dot Stancombe, one of three young girls murdered in the Southport attack on 29 July 2024. All funds from the immense “Welsh 3000 – Twice” would go to Elsie’s Story, which supports bereaved families and provides community aid.

My role in the event was small: helping the soldiers recover during the brief breaks between marching through Snowdonia.

The effort was inspiring. Around hour 45, we set up the finish line. An hour before the men completed the challenge, Elsie’s parents and her little sister Rosie arrived. Rosie, only five years old, had also been at the Southport attack where her sister died. I listened to her parents speak about their lives since that tragic day, describing “good” days and “bad” days. I wondered what a “good” day could possibly feel like for them, and how much strength it must take to keep going.

The man who started Chain 6 of Project Horizon, a Northern Irish combatives expert, is the epitome of a man. Yes, he could break my neck quicker than I can type this full stop. But he was also tender enough to sit with Rosie under a tree and build her a pixie house as we waited for the soldiers. As her parents watched smiling, they collected twigs and leaned them against the trunk, then covered the little shelter with moss to keep the pixies warm. Watching a man I’d seen fight with such ferocity in the dojo act with such gentleness left me in awe.

Reflecting on those 48 hours, I took away two lessons. First, the unparalleled perspective that came from meeting Jenni and Dave Stancombe and observing their resilience after the ultimate loss. I stood next to Jenni as the men crossed the finish line and felt unworthy. Who was I to stand beside such a brave human in that moment?

Second, how powerful it was to see the combatives expert become what those around him needed. From warrior to builder of pixie houses. Bravo.

OK, change of pace here.

Sex. Porn. Foot fetishes. This conversation had it all and stripped away all pretence.

Connection 22 was unlike any other in Project Horizon. At the time of writing, I’ve had 64 conversations, and I’m confident there won’t be another quite like this.

(Note: I have started a Wildcard chain to accommodate referrals offered by followers of the project. If you read the introduction post about Project Horizon, you’ll know I’ve set myself rules! Go check them out HERE.

There have already been half a dozen wildcards referred. So, if you can beat this traditionally taboo conversation, be my guest and get in touch!)

I’ll save the full report for the Project Horizon book. For now, one key insight.

The call opened with the OnlyFans model explaining that she was driving back from a creative nude modelling shoot. By ‘creative’ it meant being splashed with paint. She told me the creative, artistic side of her work was the most enjoyable. Her openness from the outset set the tone for the rest of the call.

As she was driving, this meant that we did a phone call. This was likely for the best, as I then didn’t have to worry about the wide array of facial expressions I was making as the model told her stories.

Following the nude shoot, the rest of the model’s week involved a couple of lesbian content filming days. In the lead up to these productions, she had been taking requests from her Instagram followers – presumably her paying audience on OnlyFans too – on what they would like to see. As this is supposed to be a professional website, I’ll spare you the details and let you imagine the requests, my curious reader.

Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I asked about the ‘realities’ of the industry. I was told, as I thought might be the case, that filming porn is nowhere near as enjoyable as actually having sex. Similar to producing a regular movie, things needed to be filmed from multiple angles. This leads to “too much stop-start”, according to the model.

We moved on to discuss sex drive. Hers, not mine. I was glad not to be in the hot seat. I guess it’s easy to assume that people filming themselves having sex have a high sex drive. In this case, I was correct. The model told me she had been in a long-term relationship where there was a mismatch in libido. Hers was high and her partner’s was low. It surprised me that this relationship lasted well over a decade, with sex being such an important part of the model’s life. It sounded like this caused a significant strain on the relationship due to the unmet needs.

As the conversation progressed, I found myself impressed by the model. It was that kind of feeling you get when you come across someone comfortable being themselves despite going against the grain. No matter what people think of OnlyFans or the porn industry (I touched on this in Insight 20, the last instalment), I respect people for separating from the herd and being their authentic selves.

She was honest with me and, just as importantly, honest with herself.

I spoke with a Brazilian PhD student who had moved to study in Japan. When I asked him about his experience of the cultural transition, he told me about the difference in self-expression in the two countries. He saw Brazilians, on the whole, wearing their heart on their sleeve. It surprised him when he moved to Japan and perceived those around him to be holding a lot back.

In the PhD student’s view, Japanese culture puts a huge emphasis on achieving harmony. From the outside, this sounds like an attractive pursuit. One of the ways of achieving that harmony, according to him, was through “people keeping their problems a secret” so as not to disturb or upset those around them. To me, as someone who embraces the growth possibilities contained in (well-handled) conflict, I felt this jar with my own values.

The PhD student then spoke about how he saw the hierarchical nature of Japan, where, at work, the boss’s word is final and people have to do what they’re told, “even if it’s against your values”.

Having not spent time in Japan myself, I wondered about the impact that these sorts of power structures and dynamics can have on the diversity of thought and freedom of expression in general. In fact, I wondered a few things:

1. If diversity of thought and freedom of expression are impeded, how does that impact the ultimate prosperity of organisations?
2. What happens to relationships in our personal lives if the perspective and agenda of one person is prioritised over another?
3. How should we balance the common desire for harmonious relationships with the growth to be found in constructively exploring differing points of view?

Big questions. No definitive answer to each. Ones to ponder.

A few weeks after speaking with a lawyer in Connection 13, he messaged to recommend I contact an author whose book he had just read. The problem was, he didn’t know the author personally.

I scoured the internet to find a way to get in touch. His agent wasn’t accepting requests, so that was a dead end. A few days later, remembering that LinkedIn exists for exactly this purpose, I found the author and shot him a message in blind hope. I was just a stranger reaching out to a successful author with nothing to offer.

To my surprise, he got back to me. I was surprised by the responses. His responses were short, all lowercase, not full sentences. For some reason, I expected an author to write everything like it belonged in a book. But he agreed to connect, for which I was extremely grateful, and we set a call.

On the day, I waited at my desk. Five minutes passed. Then ten. I messaged him. After thirty-five, he replied, saying he had double-booked. Not unusual in this project. People often have to prioritise their day jobs. He apologised and we rearranged for the next day.

Once again, I stood at the desk waiting. Excited. This time, 25 minutes had gone by and he hadn’t turned up. I messaged again, frustrated, before lying down on the sofa and thinking ‘f*ck it’. To make myself feel better, I told myself the story that it probably wouldn’t be worth it anyway.

And, much like many times in Project Horizon so far, how wrong was I?! (It’s becoming a consistent theme, my immense fallibility.)

The author responded, saying he was struggling to get Zoom working. I decided to give him an old-fashioned phone call instead.

After a sincere apology, what followed was an inspiring 90 minutes of conversation. Throughout his impressive career, he’s written for a wide range of travel writing publications and undertaken incredible adventures whilst in that profession. He’s had numerous Times best-selling books and ghostwritten for some of the most famous sports stars and celebrities in the world. I asked him about his process, and he asked me about mine for my Project Horizon calls. I was encouraged that there were a few similarities!

As we neared the end of the call, the author asked me if I intended to write Project Horizon up into a book. It had crossed my mind a few times, but I hadn’t really taken the idea seriously. My approach was to be consistent with the project and see what comes from it. Enjoy connecting with 100 interesting people first, and go from there. He encouraged me to write it up and said that he would introduce me to a contact of his in the publishing world when I was finished. His generosity astounded me. This was heightened due to the contrasting feeling an hour or so earlier when I assumed he wasn’t bothered about me at all!

After the call, I was left feeling a little foolish for ever having been frustrated with the situation. I’m still slightly unsure how to summarise the insight. So, I’ll leave it to the author himself. Acknowledging his disorganisation and tardiness over the last few days, he thanked me for “not judging a book by its cover”.

I don’t think I did as well as he gave me credit for in that department, but it certainly reminded me to be less trigger-happy with judgment in the future.

I was excited when I heard I was getting referred to someone from China. It felt like an opportunity to assess how the media I had been exposed to had impacted my biases and assumptions.

Despite now being based in Japan, Connection 25 grew up in China. Thus, he had a rich experience for us to explore.

I asked him what it was like growing up there. He told me he was an only child due to the one-child policy. When I asked if he wished he had grown up with siblings, he said the families who lived around him had children of the same age and were all relatively close-knit, meaning he didn’t feel like he missed out. I wondered also if there was an element of ‘you don’t miss what you’ve never had’.

When I asked him what some of his best memories were, he pointed to spending time with family and meeting his now wife. He enjoys doing the simple things. Connecting with those important to him.

Speaking about his ambitions for the future, he said he wanted to give value to the world and his community. Adding to the lives of people around him, not just taking from them.

I was suffering a bout of cognitive dissonance. I was appreciating the honour of the man for wanting to serve his community, whilst at the same time holding back thoughts like ‘ah, there’s the Communist ideology… that’s why he’s saying that’. There are various reasons my mind may have rushed to put a label on what I had just been told. The Western media narrative around China may be only one of those reasons.

By the end of the call, I realised that we had viciously agreed on all of the big topics we covered. Family being central to a meaningful life. Focusing on helping others to make our own lives purposeful. Appreciating the little moments, knowing that they add up to create the whole (life itself). We agreed on all this, despite the narrative about the ‘other’ which influences so much of our respective societies’ beliefs and assumptions.

It’s humbling to recognise my own biases. But I’m finding it’s allowing me to explore a much broader, diverse world. This feels like a more exciting option than putting things in boxes and assuming I already know what’s inside.  The result, this time, was recognising that the ‘other’ was much more similar than I first imagined.

These five conversations taught me that there are many ways to be a gentleman, that I should have more conversations about ‘taboo’ topics, and that harmony can be both a gift and a limitation. They reminded me not to judge too quickly and that the people we label as “other” are often more similar to us than we imagine.

Next time: Insights from connections 26–30.