The concept of followers is by no means a new one. In ancient Greece most public figures had followers. All religious dogmas speak of disciples. In Europe, Theodoric and Alexander the Great started a real royal court culture that extended further to local noble courts. The Islamic world had Caliphates, the Chinese empire had one of the largest courts in the Forbidden City. Later on, these entourages evolved into political groups, parties as we now know them. Throughout the history, anybody who was somebody had a group of followers around them who would enrich their presence at any place, listen to their words of wisdom, spread their opinions and enhance their fame. Granted, those followers were as prone to leave their “master” at a drop of a hat as they are today. Loyalty was as much of a fickle thing back then as it is now, mostly because the act of following was not based upon any soul deep connection or conceptual compatibility, but on social favors and power.

Being “très à la mode” granted you special privileges, invitations to fashionable events, the ohs and ahs of the  general public, gave your words the value of an axiom and made you suitable for becoming a model to be followed. The followers, especially those to which loyalty was anathema, were there for sharing part of that fame. Was it trendy to follow the thoughts and fashion of a certain Madame de Pompadour? Then, by all means, let the whole Europe dress and talk like mini copies of her. Was it rumored that she might have fallen from the king’s grace? You would hear her being dissed at every corner by the same mini copies that were now dressed like the present protegée. People felt the need then, as they do now, to be part of the trend. If they couldn’t be the ones to set a new path, they could at least say that they belonged to the group that followed that path. “I follow the trends, therefore I am” is the motto of the practiced follower.The whys and hows do not exist. If asked for an explanation, they would only repeat the words of their mentors. The world would lose yet another opportunity to evolve and gain one more mindless – though sometimes prettily adorned – sheep.

Alexander Chase said “People, like sheep, tend to follow a leader – occasionally in the right direction.” While this statement might seem outrageous, it holds an undeniable truth: most people need leadership. Not necessarily because they are natively incapable of thinking for themselves, but because they need guidance. We are all searching for our path. In this search, before we define ourselves as freestanding, we need models to look up to, to follow. Leaders of any kind, be they kings, governments or clergy, always knew this fact and exploited it to obtain utmost obedience. Nowadays politicians and marketers are milking the same, well, sheep. Social media, while not inherently created for that, it serves the same purpose. The model of elite and followers works exceptionally well, mainly because shallowness is an integral part of our life. Too busy with our day to day existence, we pick ideas from here and there, not always having or taking the time to delve deeper into the subjects in question.

The principle is rather simple: as we absorb information, we will always look up to those who are considered to be experts or authorities in that field and we will start carving our own opinions based on that. And while staying informed and being up to date with people’s opinions is vital these days, mindless idea adoption can be disastrous. Ignorance, lack of depth or “la forme sans le fond” may and will get us in trouble.  One must never forget that trend-setters, at the end of the day, are just people and people are subjective. One cannot read someone’s opinion and expect a BBC report. Said trend-setters, unthinkable as it may sound, do not hold the absolute truth – only the public’s attention. By adopting and promoting their ideas, you are responsible for more followers who, in turn, thought that you knew what you were talking about. A vicious circle, I would say. And, in the mean time, we forget to use our own brain.

So what is one to do? Read. Read the basics on a subject, then the details, know the norms or standards by heart and, by all means, invest the time to learn what others have to say about it. But as you do that, don’t forget to think for yourself. With all the knowledge you acquired, experiment. And, if you are bold and knowledgeable enough, break the rules in case you think they stand in the way of your goal. In regards to the web, there is no web police that will give you a fine for breaking design and development norms – only your visitors can do that. As long as your code or designs provide a good, attractive experience for the user, the rest is more or less irrelevant. Yes, you might be dissed and accused. The elite and its crew might hold you in contempt. But playing inside the norms never gave us any groundbreaking masterpiece or discovery. Lose the herd for a while and wander a bit. And who knows, in the process of finding greener pastures, maybe you’ll happen to set your own path.

The scene set evokes a temple or rather the very heart of a temple. And it is indeed, as the scene transforms itself along the play from Dr. Dysart’s office into the stable and  – for a short time – into the cinema place, these three places being in fact temples to the psychiatrist, Alan and his father. The play starts with Dr. Dysart’s thoughts and brief introduction into the Alan’s case. Richard Griffiths, I must say, does a marvelous job. You make no connection whatsoever with any other characters that you might have seen him playing. He’s just the psychiatrist who takes an awakening journey from the moment that he accepts to treat Alan Strang. And while Richard Burton’s performance in the same part has been strong and vibrant (but when has Burton not been strong and vibrant?), Richard Griffiths gives the character a new personality, a lot more on the philosophical side. Dr. Dysart is not torn, but distressed at the realization that he let passion slip away from his life and, most of all, that he resigned to it. He starts questioning himself, his life, his almost-dead marriage and his whole purpose as he perceives the intensity of Alan’s feelings.

And that intensity is beautifully conveyed by Daniel Radcliffe’s act. I must confess that I had expected to be reminded of the Harry Potter part at least at times during the play. To my surprise it never happened. I haven’t thought of Alan as the character who is played by the guy who played the famous wizard, but only Alan, an anguished teenager who sees the values of his world turn to dust and that very world turned upside down, mostly like Dickens’ Pip. Many have interpreted the stable blinding scene as a fall from Paradise. In some regards, I do agree. However, in my opinion, Alan doesn’t fall from the biblical paradise, but from that of childhood and innocence. He is a Peter Pan that has been forced to leave his Neverland by the revelation that his father was, in fact, “just a poor old sod on his own”, doing his own secret “thing” just like Alan did and that his mother was a prude. In the most talked about naked scene in the play Alan bares himself completely, his soul as well as his body. He shares his revelations and pain with Dr. Dysart, who, in his turn fears the future lack of pain or passion in Alan’s life once he has been “healed”, once this false society and its rigors tamed him. I cannot stress enough how impressed I was with Radcliffe’s performance. Although he is a very young actor and perhaps(and hopefully) oh-so-blissfully-unaware yet of the many types of anguish that life can provide, the part fits him and his youth like a glove. I believe that if he managed to keep at least part of the audience entrapped inside the universe of the play for the whole two acts as I was, then he has already achieved a lot. The intensity that he gives to the character proves by all means that he has so much more to give on stage than just playing the part of a teenage wizard and I expect we’ll hear and see more great performances from him in the years to come.

I left the theater with the distinct feeling that I can and I should do everything that I long to do. It’s not very often that one encounters such inspired and inspirational performances. And as I headed outside I saw the after-theater show: the fans waiting at around 15 degrees Fahrenheit for an autograph, a picture or just a glimpse of their idol. And perhaps for many it is hard to understand, even for me it is most of the time – for I’d rather keep my food for the mind unaltered by the mundane mere minutes after the show. Yet, in a way it makes sense as perhaps, for them, that is their cherished stable.