Shortcut

When was the last time you compared two things—a situation, an idea, a person—to make sense of a complicated world? Maybe you’ve said, “It’s like riding a bike” or “It’s a jungle out there.” In Shortcut: How Analogies Reveal Connections, Spark Innovation, and Sell Our Greatest Ideas, former presidential speechwriter John Pollack argues that analogy isn’t just a figure of speech—it’s the secret engine behind persuasion, creativity, and thought itself. Every decision, every innovation, and every argument we make depends on our ability to see patterns and connect seemingly unrelated ideas.

Pollack’s central claim is radical yet intuitive: analogy is the fuel and fire of human thinking. We use analogies every day to interpret data, evaluate risk, and communicate meaning—often without realizing it. But this instinct, while powerful, can mislead us when our comparisons are faulty. A bad analogy can send a nation to war, bankrupt a company, or distort public opinion. A good one, however, can reshape science, ignite innovation, and inspire social change.

How Analogy Governs Thought

Pollack begins with the biology of thinking. Drawing on psychologists like Leonard Mlodinow and Douglas Hofstadter, he explains that our brains process millions of raw bits of information per second, too much for reason alone. So we compress meaning using analogies, comparing new experiences to familiar ones. Whether we’re crossing a busy street, assessing risk, or guessing what others might do, we rely on analogies to guide action. They are how we turn sensory chaos into order.

Humans, unlike other animals, can make deep analogical connections—abstract links between things that share no obvious features. A crocodile’s snout and a floating log look similar, but only humans can reason that both serve as objects in a broader concept of ‘danger.’ This leap allows us to transfer logic from one domain (the forest) to another (the marketplace or the courtroom). In Hofstadter and Emmanuel Sander’s view, without analogy, understanding itself is impossible.

Analogy as Shortcut—and Trap

Pollack explains that analogies are cognitive shortcuts. They save mental energy, but they’re double-edged: by simplifying, they risk distortion. This becomes clear in examples like Ford’s disastrous Edsel automobile. Intended to symbolize modern sophistication, it was mocked for resembling a toilet seat—an analogy that stuck and doomed millions in investment. Similarly, political analogies like “Three strikes and you’re out” or “war on terror” sound decisive but oversimplify complex realities, sometimes with tragic results. As Pollack puts it, the analogies we accept “shape outcomes in significant ways.”

Pollack bridges psychology and persuasion. In law, business, and politics, analogies act as invisible arguments. When Judge John Roberts compared judges to baseball umpires, he framed himself as a neutral arbiter of fair play—a powerful image that helped win his Supreme Court confirmation. Yet as critics noted, judges make rules, while umpires follow them. The analogy was emotionally satisfying but logically false. Pollack invites you to question such frames and recognize how analogy “structures not just how we talk about arguments, but how we actually argue.”

Analogy and Innovation

Beyond persuasion, Pollack reveals analogy’s role in discovery. Gutenberg saw, metaphorically, that pressing ink into paper was like pressing juice from grapes—giving birth to the printing press. Darwin equated natural selection with selective breeding, clarifying evolution’s gradual process. Henry Ford borrowed the slaughterhouse’s disassembly method to invent the moving assembly line. Steve Jobs compared computers to “bicycles for the mind,” explaining technology as a tool to amplify human creativity. Each innovation, Pollack argues, depended on seeing how one system mirrored another.

The Stakes of Our Comparisons

Pollack’s closing challenge is both intellectual and moral. Analogies influence not only ideas but institutions, economics, and ethics. Comparing markets to “ecosystems” can justify laissez-faire capitalism; likening them to “gardens” invites stewardship and care. Our metaphors define what society believes is natural. As he writes, “people who become truly adept at analogy are better able to avoid costly missteps, free their imaginations, and persuade others more effectively.”

In essence, Shortcut is about the art of connecting dots—just as Jobs told graduates at Stanford that creativity means trusting those dots will link up later. Pollack teaches you how to make that leap consciously. By mastering analogy, you learn not just to think better, but to see your world anew—and to recognize when someone else’s comparison is leading you astray.

Pollack begins by showing that analogy is the foundation of cognition. Drawing on Leonard Mlodinow’s and Douglas Hofstadter’s research, he reminds us that our brains process millions of bits of sensory data per second, far beyond what conscious reasoning can handle. The unconscious mind filters using pattern recognition—essentially, analogy. When you spot a familiar risk, like a suspicious shadow resembling a crocodile’s snout, your brain compares it to past experiences to trigger an instinct. This ability likely saved our ancestors from predators and has guided human survival since.

The Evolutionary Edge

Human cognition evolved by building analogies. Early humans used bones carved with notches to track the moon’s phases—an abstract translation of time into markings. Later, cave paintings and hieroglyphs were analogs of life itself, allowing people to represent and preserve meaning. Eventually, our ancestors invented phonetic alphabets, mapping sounds to symbols—a leap from the physical to the abstract that revolutionized communication. (Pollack connects this to Benjamin Bergen's theory of embodied simulation: that humans understand even abstract words through sensory analogy.)

Models, Maps, and Mental Navigation

Humans translate complexity into manageable analogs: maps, models, equations, and stories. A map is simply a two-dimensional analogy for real geography—a way to navigate unseen space. Pollack recounts how early seafarers used woven charts and celestial maps to cross oceans safely. Even today, when you glance at Google Maps, you’re navigating an analogy—trusting that blue dots and lines represent physical reality. These conceptual models compress chaos into clarity. As Pollack notes, “when we complain about a bad map, we’re really complaining about the disappointing quality of an analogy.”

Storytelling and Shortcut Thinking

Pollack ties analogy to storytelling, showing how compressed narratives drive quick judgment. Psychologist Daniel Kahneman explains that humans think in two modes: fast and intuitive (System 1) versus slow and logical (System 2). System 1 relies heavily on analogy—it prefers coherence over completeness. Instead of analyzing all data, our minds compare current situations to familiar stories and act accordingly. This “shortcut” process explains why idioms, clichés, and metaphors like “crying wolf” or “sour grapes” endure: they condense moral or emotional lessons into memorable analogies that help us act quickly.

Pollack warns that these shortcuts help us survive but can also mislead us. Just as we save physical energy by avoiding stairs, we conserve mental energy by relying on analogies instead of analysis. In his words, “analogy often enables people to seize the high ground in an argument, allowing them to sidestep competing facts.” Mastering analogy means balancing intuition with reflection—using comparison as a tool, not a trap.

Pollack distills persuasive analogies into five essential rules that he illustrates through vivid examples—from Bruce Reynolds’ Great Train Robbery to Supreme Court hearings. These rules reveal how analogies persuade by doing more than describe—they tell stories, evoke emotion, and structure belief.

1. Use the Familiar to Explain the Unfamiliar

A good analogy bridges known and unknown. When Steve Jobs said the Mac’s interface was modeled on a “desktop,” he used an object everyone knew to explain a new technology. Similarly, Judge John Roberts’ “umpire” analogy helped audiences picture judicial impartiality. Familiarity breeds trust—and reduces cognitive load.

2. Highlight Similarities, Hide Differences

Every analogy emphasizes certain parallels while omitting conflicts. Roberts omitted that unlike umpires, judges make rules; that omission made his analogy resonate emotionally despite its inaccuracies. Pollack’s point: persuasiveness often lies in selective framing rather than strict truth.

3. Identify Useful Abstractions

Persuasive analogies create general truths. Reagan’s “Morning in America” ad abstracted economic recovery into the sunrise—a renewal everyone could feel. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” reframed racial justice as divine liberation. Each abstraction invites emotional identification beyond logic.

4. Tell a Coherent Story

Coherence trumps completeness. Churchill’s wartime speeches used light-versus-dark analogies to unify a terrified nation under a simple narrative of hope. Pollack, citing Kahneman, stresses that humans crave coherent stories—even partial ones—over complex truth. The analogy that feels consistent wins.

5. Resonate Emotionally

Emotion cements persuasion. Johnnie Cochran’s famous “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit” resonated because it turned evidence into rhyme and rhythm—easy to remember, hard to refute. Churchill’s “sunlit uplands” stirred courage; FDR’s garden-hose analogy provoked neighborly empathy. Analogy succeeds when it feels right.

Pollack concludes that the best analogies appeal to both heart and head. They make abstract truths concrete, convert logic into narrative, and make stories unforgettable. When you apply these five rules, you aren’t just explaining—you’re moving people.

Innovation, Pollack argues, is built on analogical thinking—the ability to transfer insight from one domain to another. Great inventors and scientists consistently looked across boundaries to find hidden parallels. Their breakthroughs came not from isolated genius but from cross-pollination of thought.

Gutenberg’s “Printing Press Moment”

Johannes Gutenberg saw wine presses squeezing grapes and paper presses expelling water; he linked the two processes, imagining ink pressed into paper instead of liquid pressed out. That simple analogical leap mass-produced knowledge and accelerated the Renaissance. (Pollack compares this moment to Steven Johnson’s “adjacent possible”—where new ideas emerge at the edges of existing ones.)

Darwin’s Natural Selection

Charles Darwin learned evolution’s principles by analogy to pigeon breeders. Selective breeding mirrored nature’s gradual selection. His insight—“survival of the fittest”—was less revelation than recognition of parallel processes in farming and biology. Pollack notes that effective analogies meet all five criteria: they use the familiar, highlight similarities, create abstractions, tell coherent stories, and evoke satisfaction.

Flight and the Assembly Line

George Cayley, studying birds, realized that flight depended not on flapping but airflow—a refinement of the bird analogy. The Wright brothers later saw bicycles as models for flight control, understanding balance and momentum. Likewise, Ford machinist Bill Klann borrowed the slaughterhouse’s conveyor idea to assemble cars instead of disassembling animals, inventing modern mass production.

Digital, Biological, and Conceptual Links

Pollack also shows analogy at work in modern innovation: Speedo’s sharkskin-inspired swimsuits apply biomimicry; Tim Berners-Lee’s “World Wide Web” drew on the metaphor of a connected net. Even patents hinge on analogy: judges compare inventions to “prior art” to decide if they’re truly novel. Creativity, Pollack insists, isn’t linear—it’s analogical. When you look for structural similarities between systems, you expand what’s possible.

“Breakthroughs aren’t born from immaculate conception,” Pollack writes. “They’re the rambunctious progeny of many ideas, jostling in a crowded environment where chance and diversity meet.”

Pollack makes clear that analogies not only explain but frame reality. They determine what questions people ask, what options they see, and what moral choices they make. Citing linguist George Lakoff, he shows that frames shape public discourse more powerfully than facts. Once you embrace a frame—say, “war on terror”—you adopt its assumptions: enemies, victory, attacks, and collateral damage.

Framing Everyday Thinking

Pollack explains that every word evokes a frame. When President George W. Bush claimed America would never seek a “permission slip” to defend itself, he framed diplomatic cooperation as childish dependence, equating international negotiation with asking a teacher for a bathroom pass. This linguistic sleight of hand triggers emotional associations—rebellion against authority—while diverting rational debate.

The Danger of Faulty Frames

War metaphors illustrate frame power. Politicians wage “wars” on poverty, drugs, and terrorism, but these analogies narrow thinking to conquest and defense, obscuring complexity. As historian Andrew Bacevich testified to Congress, calling anti-terror efforts a “war” justifies endless conflict while warping moral and financial judgment. Pollack urges you to spot such analogical traps: every frame carries hidden baggage.

Emotional Resonance and Political Spin

Effective framing relies on emotion. Reagan’s “Bear in the woods” ad subtly linked strength to safety. His dawn imagery in “Morning in America” reframed national optimism. Pollack contrasts this with emotions used in deceptive frames. Like a pickpocket manipulating attention, propagandists use analogies to steal focus and plant assumptions before logic catches up.

Recognizing frames is the first step toward intellectual freedom. By breaking faulty analogies, you challenge what “feels” right and build room for better stories—ones that align emotion with truth rather than fear. Pollack reminds us: controlling the frame means controlling the argument.

In the book’s final section, Pollack moves from analysis to application. He teaches how to recognize, deconstruct, and choose better analogies. Drawing on lessons from pickpocket Apollo Robbins, who manipulates attention as deftly as a magician, Pollack likens misleading analogies to stolen wallets—they distract you while infiltrating your mind.

Spotting Hidden Analogies

Analogies appear everywhere—ads, slogans, logos, legal arguments. Once you notice them, you can question their logic. Pollack demonstrates this with the popular analogy equating the federal budget to a household budget. It sounds sensible but fails: unlike families, governments can print money, invest for centuries, and never die. The seductive simplicity hides false equivalence.

Avoiding Lazy Thinking

Borrowing from Kahneman’s psychology, Pollack warns against mental laziness. We replace difficult questions with easier ones—“How should the economy work?” becomes “How would I run my household?” He calls this the heuristic swap. When emotions—fear, anger, pride—enter the picture, misleading analogies feel even more persuasive. Awareness, not analysis, prevents error.

Beware Hyperbole and Manipulation

Pollack critiques politicians who weaponize analogies. Comparing opponents to Hitler or invoking “death marches” trivializes real suffering and undermines credibility. The more extreme an analogy, the less useful it becomes. He cites George Lakoff again: opponents’ language “picks out a frame—and it won’t be the frame you want.”

Think in Models and Multiple Frames

Finally, Pollack argues that analogies are models of reality, not reality itself. Like physicist James Clerk Maxwell’s dual descriptions of light—as wave and particle—multiple models reveal more truth. In business, seeing companies both as utilities and landlords uncovers overlooked insights. Diversity of analogy fosters creativity and better judgment.

Cultivating New Analogies

Pollack closes with optimism: by reimagining society’s core analogies, we can spark renewal. Instead of viewing democracy or the economy as machines of gears, he suggests we picture them as gardens—living systems to nurture, not mechanisms to exploit. “To be a gardener is not to let nature take its course; it is to tend,” he writes. The analogies you choose can create new realities. Our collective challenge is to make them accurate, humane, and alive.