The Entropy Problem
In 1968, two researchers, Robert Merton and Elinor Barber, coined a term that would define one of the most frustrating paradoxes of human progress: The Matthew Effect. The idea was simple: those who already have an advantage tend to gain more, while those who start with less often fall further behind. Success compounds. Failure snowballs.
This is entropy in action.
Entropy is the force that pulls things apart. The slow drift from order to disorder. It’s why companies, no matter how successful, eventually crumble. It’s why relationships fade if they aren’t nurtured. It’s why the most brilliant ideas, if left unattended, disappear into history, forgotten and irrelevant.
But if entropy is inevitable, how do some people manage to defy it?
The answer is serendipity.
Serendipity is entropy’s opposite. It’s the unexpected breakthrough, the accidental discovery, the chance meeting that changes the course of history. Alexander Fleming didn’t set out to discover penicillin - he just happened to notice something unusual on an old petri dish. Steve Jobs didn’t plan to revolutionize typography - he took a random calligraphy class that ended up shaping the entire design philosophy of Apple.
The most interesting people, the most successful companies, the most enduring relationships - they all exist in this delicate balance between entropy and serendipity. They don’t just fight against decay. They create opportunities for randomness to work in their favor.
The mistake most people make is assuming success is only about control. They try to eliminate risk, to optimize for efficiency, to hold onto stability at all costs. But in doing so, they leave no room for the unexpected.
The best strategists, the best thinkers, the best builders - they don’t just fight entropy. They invite serendipity. They expose themselves to new ideas, new people, new experiences. They understand that order alone doesn’t lead to breakthroughs. It’s the intersection of order and randomness, structure and chaos, that creates something new.
This is why some companies outlast their competitors, why some careers accelerate while others stagnate, why some ideas spark revolutions while others fade into obscurity.
The question isn’t just: How do I prevent things from falling apart?
The real question is: Am I leaving enough space for something unexpected to happen?