You prep for the question, yet it always catches you off guard:

“Where do you see yourself in 20 years?”

Even if you answer truthfully, it sounds so awkward. But the purpose of that classic interview question (other than to give the interviewer something to ask to signal the end of the interview) is to gauge the candidate’s degree of ambition. Ambition is like rocket fuel — the right amount will shoot you to the stars, not enough will leave you stuck on the launchpad, too much will get you blown up.

Do you think 20 years ago, if someone asked David Ige that question, he’d answer, “Well, actually, I see myself as governor”? He seemed like he’d be happy on the launchpad forever.

In 1996 cellphones were still rather bricklike. We lived our lives from one weekly “Friends” episode to the next and could not fathom Netflix. We could not imagine that Disney would open a resort in West Oahu or that Ala Moana would be home to Neiman Marcus, and the idea of multimillion-dollar condos in Kakaako would have sounded crazy.

In 1996 David Ige was a member of the state Senate. He was already a longtime legislator, having first been appointed to the House in 1985. It has been said by many people, even those close to Ige, that no one ever dreamed he’d be governor. Sometimes his lack of ambition shows in the uneasy way he wields power. He didn’t prep himself for this.

Contrast that with Brian Schatz. Twenty years ago he was a couple of years past graduation from Pomona College. He was running around Oahu stenciling anti-pollution messages on storm drains and leading groups of idealistic kids in an environmental organization he formed, happily appearing in any media outlet that asked. Did he see his future as a U.S. senator? Probably. That lad had big plans for himself early on.

And contrast that with Tulsi Gabbard, who in 1996 was 15 years old. She was in high school. Well, she was in home school. Where did she see her future self? Her ambition is off the charts now.

Twenty years ago Ron Kouchi was a member of the Kauai County Council, where he was the young guy with the old-school ways. He didn’t get to be mayor, but now he’s running the state Senate. Rocket fuel.

Kirk Caldwell was a quiet lawyer in 1996 doing quiet lawyerly things. He probably hadn’t worn a palaka shirt in years. Now he’s almost jittery with ambition.

You just never know. Sometimes the rocket has reserve tanks full of high-grade fuel that kick in at a later stage.

If asked that question today, what picture of their future would they paint? Kirk would probably spin some story about riding the train he built all the way from Kapolei to Ala Moana. Ige would go back to his default meme about renewable energy. And Tulsi probably already has plans for how she’ll spend her post- presidential years.

Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com