In 1940, as Nazi forces overran Europe, Winston Churchill faced a nation on the brink. He did not recite troop numbers or production figures. He offered no detailed battle plans. Instead, he gave Britain something far more powerful: a myth.
“We shall fight on the beaches… we shall never surrender.”
The reality was dire. With France defeated, Britain stood alone – outgunned and outmanned against the Third Reich. Yet Churchill’s vision of an unconquerable nation proved stronger than any military statistic.
He did it again with the Royal Air Force (RAF):
“Never was so much owed by so many to so few.”
Though just 3,000 RAF pilots stood against the Nazi Luftwaffe, Churchill transformed them into invincible symbols of defiance. Heroism, not hardware, would decide the war. And in the end, perception became as vital as firepower.
This is the paradox of our existence: we’re not moved by data. We’re moved by by mythic stories. Churchill knew what psychologists now confirm – people act on belief, not evidence. In the 90s, cognitive psychologist, Jerome Bruner, argued that human thinking is fundamentally narrative. We don’t process the world as a series of facts but as an unfolding drama in which we are the protagonists.
Neuroscientists, psychologists and motivational experts have proven this time and time again. We’re hardwired for myths.
When a myth resonates – whether it’s Lenin’s call for revolution or MLK Jr.’s “Dream” – it bypasses scepticism, shapes our identity, unites us, and fills us with purpose.
It drives progress as well as survival. After WW2 The Marshall Plan succeeded not just because of economics, but because it sold the myth of a rebuilt Europe rising from the ruins. Even science depends on foundational myths. The plane, the submarine, the telephone – all were driven by the narrative of human mastery over nature.
But myths can be lethal precisely because they’re motivational. The same force that inspires innovation can also fuel conspiracy theories, cults, and wars. The Nazi’s lived by vast myths – racial superiority and their apocalyptic ‘final solution.’
The lesson of WWII endures: when crisis comes, people don’t reach for spreadsheets – they reach for epic stories they can inhabit.
Churchill understood that victory would not go to the side with the best facts, but to the one with the most compelling story. The world’s greatest leaders know this instinctively. Data informs, but stories transport the soul.
We may not like it. We may fear the power of myths, but we can’t get rid of our tendency to believe in them. Our challenge then, is not to reject them, but to choose them wisely. Because the myths we believe in don’t just describe reality – they create it.
