For generations, we've been sold a comforting lie: follow the rules, take the safe path, build gradually, and you'll be rewarded with security. Get a good education, find a stable job, save steadily, and retire comfortably. This narrative worked reasonably well during the unusual period of post-war stability that shaped our parents' and grandparents' worldview.
But that era was the exception, not the rule. Throughout most of human history, disruption has been the norm. Empires rise and fall. Technologies emerge and destroy entire industries. Pandemics reshape societies. Wars redraw maps. Economic systems collapse and rebuild. What we call "normal" is usually just the brief pause between upheavals.
Consider the path of Sarah, a talented software engineer who did everything "right." She graduated with honors, landed a job at a respected tech company, bought a sensible condo, and maximized her 401(k) contributions. She built her life on the assumption that technology companies were the future, that urban real estate always appreciates, and that diversified index funds provide reliable returns.
Then 2020 arrived. Her "stable" tech company laid off 40% of its workforce. Her urban condo lost value as people fled cities. Her carefully balanced portfolio whipsawed with market volatility. Everything she'd been taught about building security crumbled in weeks.
Meanwhile, her college roommate Emma—who everyone thought was foolish for quitting her corporate job to learn digital marketing—suddenly found herself in extraordinary demand. Small businesses desperately needed help moving online. Emma's "risky" skillset became a goldmine. While Sarah's stable path crumbled, Emma's adaptable approach thrived.
This pattern repeats throughout history. The "safe" choices often prove most vulnerable during disruption, while those positioned for change capture disproportionate rewards.