Once there lived a fox and a hedgehog. Being a cunning creature, the fox had often devised a myriad of complex strategies to attack the hedgehog and catch its prey. From time to time, the fox would circle around the hedgehog’s den, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Fast, sleek, beautiful, fleet of foot, and crafty, it seemed like the fox would emerge the sure winner.

On the other hand, the hedgehog, being a dowdier creature, looked like a genetic mix-up between a porcupine and a small armadillo. Everyday, he would just waddle along, going about his simple day, searching for food and
taking care of his home.

Finally, the time had arrived. As the fox waited in cunning silence at the juncture in the trail, the hedgehog
had unknowingly walk right into the path of the fox.

“Aha, I’ve got you now!” thought the fox. With that, he leaped out, bounding across the ground, lightning fast. Although slow to respond, the little hedgehog, sensing danger, looked up and thought to himself, “Here we go again. Will he ever learn?” Rolling up into a perfect little ball, the hedgehog instantly became a sphere of sharp spikes, pointing outward in all directions. When the fox saw this, it was too late. Badly injured, the fox quickly retreated back to the forest.

Back in the forest, the fox was demoralized yet determined to launch an attack on the hedgehog again. He began to calculate a new line of attack. Each day, some version of this battle between the hedgehog and the fox would take place, and despite the greater cunning of the fox, the hedgehog was always the winner.

Excerpt taken from philosopher Isaiah Berlin’s famous essay “The Hedgehog and the Fox”