The Emperor Moth Treatment

We crack open their cocoon because we can't bear watching them struggle.

Photo by Suzanne D. Williams on Unsplash

We've all played the fool here.

Someone we care about is wrestling with something hard. A career move that scares them. A difficult conversation they can't bring themselves to have. A creative project they've stopped and started ten times.

And what do we do? We help. We smooth the way. We crack open their cocoon because we can't bear watching them struggle.

Sound familiar?

The emperor moth story is everywhere because we all know it's us.

A man stumbled upon a cocoon of an emperor moth and took it home to witness its transformation.

One day, a small opening appeared. The man watched as the moth began to struggle to force its body through the tiny crack. A few hours went by as the moth wriggled, fought, and pushed—but it couldn’t seem to break through the tiny crack.

Feeling bad, the man carefully cracked the cocoon and peeled away the pieces to open up a path for the moth.

It quickly emerged, but something was wrong. Its body was swollen and its wings weren’t working. Days went by without progress. The moth never flew.

Only later did the man learn what had happened: The painful struggle to break free of the cocoon forces fluid from the moth’s body and wings. Without that struggle, the fluid was never drained and the moth was permanently incapacitated.

At Apple, when Steve Jobs returned in 1997, he famously removed the extra buttons from the iPod prototype. The engineers were frustrated - they had to figure out how to simplify complex navigation. That struggle led to the iconic click wheel, which defined portable music players.

In sports, the best coaches often let athletes fail in practice. Nick Saban at Alabama is notorious for this. Players must work through mistakes themselves. The struggle creates game-ready athletes.

Coding bootcamps have discovered this too. Students who solve problems independently retain more than those who get quick help. The struggle literally rewires their brains.

This pattern shows up everywhere:

The startup founder who hires consultants to do the hard thinking.

The manager who takes over projects when team members struggle.

Each act of "help" might actually be theft.

Theft of the resistance that builds strength.

Theft of the struggle that creates skill.

Theft of the pain that leads to pride.

We call it kindness. It might be the opposite.

Here's what we forget: Comfort isn't kind. Comfort is convenient.

For the helper, not the helped.

Think about the times you've been strongest.
The projects you're most proud of.
The relationships that matter most.

None of them came from the easy path.

All of them demanded you wrestle with something hard.

So next time someone you care about is in the cocoon, practicing struggle...

Stand witness. Don't interfere.

Your restraint might be the greatest gift you give.

Because moths who earned their wings always fly higher.

What cocoon are you protecting someone from breaking?

~ aq