Finding Strength in Setbacks: Lessons from Top Gun

Becoming UnDone® with Dr. Toby Brooks

In this reflective episode of Becoming UnDone®, Dr. Toby Brooks draws parallels between his personal memories of the movie Top Gun and the emotional journey of recovery

Key takeaways

• Being cleared of fault does not equate to emotional recovery—true healing requires re-engagement with the activity that defines your identity.
• Setbacks can shatter our self-narrative, but they also create space for reinvention and deeper resilience.

Main topics

• Emotional recovery after failure
• The impact of personal loss on identity

Notable quotes

"I've been praying that like Maverick, I'd finally hear the words that tell me that I've been cleared and that I can get back to work."

"Maverick is cleared before Maverick is healed. He's sent back up before his confidence has fully returned."

Conclusion

Dr. Brooks concludes that true comeback isn't about being exonerated, but about choosing

Transcript preview

Speaker 1 (0:00) This is Believe. One network. Every topic. Everywhere. This is Becoming Undone. Speaker 1 (0:18) There are a handful of movies that have stayed with me for most of my life, and Top Gun has always been near the very top of that list. Part of it's probably obvious. I grew up in the 1980s, and there was something almost impossibly cool about the F-14 Tomcats and the music and the motorcycles, even the weird tongue silhouettes that made 11-year-old me look away in disgust. But there was that confidence and that swagger, all the larger-than-life characters. If I'm being really truthful, I think my attachment to that movie has quite a bit less to do with Maverick and Goose than it does with my dad. Let me explain. Speaker 1 (0:58) In 1986, many of you probably weren't even born yet. That summer for me was transformative. The Street Machine Nationals had come to Southern Illinois, an experience that I'd later write about in my book, Sensory Overload. But at home, things were rocky. My parents were talking about a divorce. They were separated when I first saw the movie. And like I said, I was 11 years old. My dad was a mechanic at a coal mine, and my mom was a stay-at-home mom. Speaker 1 (1:24) I'm quite sure that if they would have gone through with finalizing the divorce, it probably would have been a bad thing. But I got to tell you, at the time, it had resulted in some of the best memories I've ever had with my dad. That summer, I got to spend the night with my dad in his short-term apartment. And for what may have been the first time in my life, I had him completely to myself. He took me bowling. We played pool. And then we went to see Top Gun. Speaker 1 (1:53) I still remember how significant those two days felt to me because I don't know that there was ever another stretch of time when I had so much of his undivided attention. For an 11-year-old boy who desperately wanted time with his dad, that weekend became forever attached to the movie in a way that's never really gone away. For most of my life, when I thought about Top Gun, I thought about that experience. I thought about Goose and Maverick, the F-14s. Speaker 1 (2:20) Danger Zone, all the things that made the movie what it was. But over the past several months, I found myself returning again and again to a scene that I had never really paid much attention to before. And honestly, until recently, I don't think I even really understood what was going on. It comes after Goose dies. The first time I watched it, I know I didn't get it. Kind of like that scene in E.T. where all the dumb grown-ups are in the hazmat suits and they turn Elliot's house into this huge... Speaker 1 (2:49) White plastic trash bag when E.T.'s dying? I'm still not sure I get that part. But whatever, back to Top Gun. I had no idea why Maverick, who had just crashed his plane, lost his best friend, and spent the morning shaving in what appeared to be a public bathroom in his underwear. But then suddenly he was in full uniform in what looked like a courtroom in front of what I thought were three judges. But why? After all, he had been the victim here, right? What I would come to understand much, much later was that yes, Maverick has been involved in this catastrophic training accident. His best friend was gone. And he was carrying not only the grief of that loss, but also the possibility that somehow he might have caused it. In the aftermath of his accident, there's a formal inquiry into what happened. Speaker 1 (3:44) Eventually, the board determines that Maverick was not at fault. His record's clear. His flight status is restored. And eventually, he gets the instruction. Get him back up flying. 14 flat spin was induced by the disruption of airflow into the starboard engine. This disruption stalled the engine, which produced enough yaw rate to induce a spin which was... unrecoverable. There was no way Lieutenant Mitchell could either see or avoid the jet wash which produced the engine stall. Therefore, the Board of Inquiry finds that Lieutenant Pete Mitchell was not at fault in the accident of 29 July. Lieutenant Mitchell's record will be clear to this incident. Lieutenant Mitchell is restored to flight status without further delay. Speaker 1 (4:33) As that courtroom scene concludes, the music begins to shift. There's like this faint melody that begins to break through. It's fast and it's light. To me, it kind of feels like icicles, an opinion from which I will take no further questions. But then the unmistakable 80s synthesizer comes in. Speaker 1 (5:33) It's like this musical transition where Mavic goes from the grief of his loss to the uncertainty of what's still ahead. From a crashed jet that had your best friend flying rear to a new jet with someone you don't love like a brother in the back. Then there's this errant guitar riff that sounds a little like Marty McFly when he's starting to disappear from the current timeline. It kind of barges in. Speaker 1 (6:12) It isn't one of those songs everyone associates with Top Gun. It's not Danger Zone. It's not even Top Gun Anthem. And as far as I've ever been able to tell, it never appeared on the official soundtrack or the Harold Fultemeier score. I only found it isolated on YouTube. And judging by the comments, I'm not alone in my love for the motivation and the recovery from my own tailspins, whether they were my fault or not. But it starts underneath that scene. And it slowly builds in as Maverick heads back towards his jet. And there's something almost perfectly matched between the music and what's happening on the screen. The whole sequence feels like a scent. It feels like someone who's been grounded figuratively and literally being told that he can go back and do the thing that he was made to do. Speaker 1 (7:03) I've watched that scene more times than I can count over the past few months. I've listened to that music over and over. I found a tool on the internet that allows you to paste in a YouTube link and it will play it as often as many times as you want. And I've used it. I've listened to it while driving, while walking, while sitting alone trying to make sense of a season that didn't unfold the way I expected it to. I've imagined what it must feel like to sit through an inquiry, to have your actions scrutinized, to wonder what somebody else thought, and to see what they concluded about you. And honestly, not to be overly dramatic, but emotionally, I bet that there are lots of parallels between what Maverick went through emotionally and what I've been wrestling with for the past five months, almost daily. Speaker 1 (7:53) I've been praying that like Maverick, I'd finally hear the words