April 18, 2020:

It's ironic that things die by growing too big.

Pine trees on hillside. One hundred fifty feet, swaying. They grow for decades, competing for height, striving toward the light. Then one year rains come so heavy they weaken the roots. Wind rages, tall top branches act like sails, the trunk sways, roots rock and can't grip the muddy earth. Giant pine crashes and dies, victim of its own success.

This is not about scale, at least not in the sense of Geoffrey West. It's about a certain kind of dialectic, where the very conditions which for a time lead to success turn into their opposite, the thing which kills them. More the sense of Clayton M. Christensen. Both books are popular in my professional milieu, although I wonder if every reader understands the relationship.

Granted I have no particular successes to speak of my conclusion is I'll live forever.