“If you are alive, something deep in your soul likes a certain measure of randomness and disorder” - Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Antifragile

Though it may seem strange, a certain amount of randomness and disorder makes us stronger.

Tuesday, April 13, 2021, started like any other Tuesday. I had several online appointments, and I had my day planned out. I work out of my home office.

My day started like any other day and ended being a day I had not expected!

At 9.30 am the plan started to change.

Randomness and disorder

My first appointment was delayed as my colleague was not well. Oh well, I thought to myself and made use of the time to get on with my work.

Then at 10.30 am my contractor who had done some work on my roof the Friday before sent a lorry to collect his tools and equipment.

Upon loading the lorry, his two workers, who had spotted our jack fruit tree that was plump with fruits, asked if they could pick some fruits. I consented. As I pointed out where the ladders were, I noticed that one of them had already climbed the tree and was on the top of it. It is a tall tree, and I was amazed at how fast he had got to the top.

Things then got interesting and dangerous very quickly. His friend, who was on the ground, was telling him to be cautious as the tree did not seem strong enough to carry his weight. But he carried on unperturbed. I was concerned but not alarmed and went back into the house.

Five minutes later I heard a loud sound and realised instantly that the branch had broken.

I ran out to check if anyone was injured. Luckily, the guy on the tree was on top of the branch (not under it) as the branch came down. The little branches acted as support and he came away from it uninjured. A miracle I thought. The branch was about 6 metres high.

But it did not end there. Unbeknown to all of us, there was a beehive on the tree and the breaking branch disrupted the bees. They stung both the workers who ran to avoid more stings.

Again luckily, the swarm of bees flew away after some time and both workers started clearing the branches. It was a large branch, and it was quite some work.

Unfortunately, one of the workers was allergic to bee stings and 20 minutes later fainted from the poison of the bee stings. He was not aware of his allergy to bee stings. He needed to see a doctor.

The lorry driver and his co-worker rushed him off to a doctor for an injection. (He had the injection and felt better after 2 hours)

In as little as 2 hours my day that started as any other day turned into one that had me bewildered. The gravity of the tree and bees incident made me realise how easily it could have gone very wrong. I was grateful it hadn’t.

My instincts told me that I would have to go with the flow that day. I had a sense that there was more randomness to come.

And there was. The afternoon brought on more disorder via a couple of changes to scheduled plans.

Then finally, during my masterclass that evening, my technology decided to work against me. I could not execute what I had planned. Technology was having its moment.

But I made the most of the situation. It necessitated thinking on my feet, and I learned more about the technology I was using as a result.

Why randomness and disorder matters

Predictability makes us fragile. Being fragile leaves us unable to flex, bend, twist or turn to deal with our stressors.

Taleb’s rationale is that randomness and disorder make us stronger. It makes us more antifragile, by helping us grow from the disorder. It changes our DNA he says.

The example I use in this article may seem trivial, but it is disorder nonetheless.

And our ability to adapt to the unexpected may be a key skill needed in the future. Our adaptability to our circumstances and environment.

Covid-19 brought disorder to the world in 2020 and is still impacting us today. Some coped better than others and are more antifragile from it.

Where are you on the fragility scale?

If you prefer predictability, in what way can you embrace more randomness into your life?

I am here to help.