The Tuning Fork

An orchestra assembled for the first time. Each musician could tune to any pitch. A violinist who tuned to A-440 needed the cellist to do the same. The cellist needed the oboist to match. Each musician’s choice was only correct if everyone else made the same one.

The conductor raised a tuning fork. It played A-440. Not because A-440 was scientifically superior to A-442, but because the fork gave everyone a common reference point.

Before the fork, every musician faced uncertainty about what others would choose. After the fork, the uncertainty vanished. The value of the tuning fork was not its pitch. It was its visibility — everyone could see that everyone else could see it.