I've been thinking recently of Hydra, the Greek mythological creature with multiple heads. When one head was cut off, two grew in its place. Don't tune out — I'm actually going somewhere with this.
"Lockdown" and "social distancing" may have been words of the year, but there's one other than did the round in many contexts: resilience. The notion of going through the worst and being unshakeable has shown its face in a myriad circumstances — world leaders used it in their pandemic speeches, companies in their pandemic response, and individuals in their pandemic self-reflections.
But Hydra wasn't resilient, then. Hydra was antifragile.
At the risk of repeating something nearly every media outlet on earth has said, this year has shown us just what sort of unpredictability we're walking into, eyes shut. If we knew what was coming, we'd fortify ourselves and withstand the shock. But the universe doesn't hand out memos, at least not the kind we can all agree on (cough global warming). And so we need to do better than stockpile and prepare for emergencies we can foresee. We need to prepare for black swans whose odds aren't computable, whose suddenness can shatter lives and businesses in an instant. We need to be antifragile.
Antifragility is the opposite of fragility, in that some things, some people, benefit from shocks. In fact, the more the volatility and disorder, the better they thrive. Where resilient people withstand disruption, the antifragile slap a harness on the thing and ride it into the setting sun. When we're antifragile, we stand to gain from as much disorder as order. In simple terms, the resilient adapt, the antifragile evolve.
Every day, we see miraculous displays of antifragility around us, even within us: muscles get stronger with more hard work, minds get sharper with more struggles, hearts become more guarded with every new loss. The world is a collection of antifragile systems, because the fragile and the slightly resilient fell out of the running years, even centuries ago.
Have you heard of Netflix's Chaos Monkey? Since the platform has to operate without crashing when millions of us log in after every small or big episode in our life, Netflix has to keep its socks constantly pulled up — because where else can we cry over From Up on Poppy Hill, right? And their solution was this: to constantly attack their own system. The Chaos Monkey attacks all servers in hundreds of ways, to see if they can survive without disturbing the thousands watching shows at that moment. If they survive, great, but it's not over — the next step is an honest to God Chaos Gorilla that wipes out entire zones in a server like Godzilla would ruin a city.
So here's the thing, right: we all need our personal Chaos Monkeys. We need to throw our own wrenches in the works to make sure we're better than ever — because that way, nothing else will get us down. That doesn't mean we have to literally destroy ourselves, but a little tough love wouldn't hurt. I guess everyone's Chaos Monkeys would look different — for me, it's an end of year personal review that brings me down to a puddle of emotions without fail. But I get stronger — and I don't need to rely on external adversity to do that. Love your Chaos Monkey, and learn from it, and maybe you won't slip on the banana peels it throws your way ever so often.
Seeing the number of times I've felt like a torn flag being buffeted by the wind this year, I think I'd do well to begin building an antifragile life and find myself some Chaos Monkeys, to both weather new stressors and take the opportunities that come in its wake.To become Hydra.
In all honesty, an antifragile Chaos Monkey approach seems like the perfect shell for this tortoise, for when people come falling from the sky. The name is appropriately whack — just like 2020.
As the new year rolls around and goes on, like new years tend to do, I'm looking forward to exploring antifragility and all sorts of chaos animals more. But until then, it's <rest>. Have a wonderful start to the new year.