Bad Things Happen Fast. Good Things Happen Slow. |
In an era defined by instant connections, rapid innovation, and global crises, the phrase "Bad things happen fast; good things happen slow" captures the rhythm of our times. Disasters—whether environmental, economic, or social—arrive like a crashing wave, obliterating the familiar in moments. But meaningful progress, the kind that endures, is more like the tide: slow, deliberate, and often unseen, yet capable of reshaping the very contours of our world.
The Speed of Collapse
The suddenness of destruction is something we all recognise. Think of a tsunami—it crashes into a coastline, levelling towns and uprooting lives in an instant. These catastrophic events mirror the fragility of our interconnected systems.
The COVID-19 pandemic demonstrated how a microscopic virus could send shockwaves through global economies seemingly overnight. Markets crash in hours. Wildfires spread in minutes. A single moment of neglect can trigger environmental collapse. Complexity amplifies the potential for swift and widespread disruption.
The Slow Pace of Progress
In contrast, healing and growth move at the pace of waves gently lapping against a shoreline. The work of rebuilding after disaster is painstaking. Reforestation takes decades to restore ecosystems. Social justice movements, such as gender equality or racial equity, are fought over generations, each small victory building on the sacrifices of those who came before.
Even technological advancements require years of refinement and adoption to truly integrate into society. Consider renewable energy: while breakthroughs in solar and wind technology offer hope, transitioning the global energy grid remains a slow, iterative process.
Why Good Things Take Time
Destruction is chaotic; creation demands patience, intention, and collaboration. The deeper the roots of progress, the steadier its growth.
This dichotomy appears throughout nature. A single earthquake can reshape a landscape, but the gradual, rhythmic pounding of waves over millennia sculpts cliffs and coastlines, carving beauty and resilience into the Earth itself.
Finding Balance
Living in this world of dualities requires navigating between urgency and patience. We must react to crises swiftly while committing to the slow work of building something better. Resilience—in systems, communities, and individuals—means embracing both the immediate and the enduring.
The famous Blue Marble photograph offers perspective. Seen from space, Earth appears as a delicate, interconnected system, both vulnerable to sudden shocks and resilient enough to evolve. It reminds us of our world's fragility and beauty, urging us to take the long view.
The Quiet Revolution of Persistence
"Bad things happen fast; good things happen slow" isn't just an observation. It's a call to action. A reminder that while today's crises loom large, the steady, persistent effort of individuals, communities, and cultures will define tomorrow.
So let's embrace the rhythm of the waves, trusting that even the smallest actions, repeated over time, have the power to reshape the world. Because while a single crash may alter the landscape, it's the quiet, persistent tide that carves continents.
Seeds of Tomorrow
What can you do today that your tomorrow self will thank you for? Perhaps it's planting a tree you'll never sit under. Perhaps it's starting something without knowing where it leads.
Over the last month we've gathered conversations as part of our 25th Anniversary. Jammz, John Tree, Borre, Ché Morales, Alex Bec and Charlie each one revealing layers beneath the surface of creation. Each one affirms something we've always known. The slow burn outshines the flash.
In our conversation with Borre, his ability to merge material science with design illuminates the path forward. His relentless focus on challenging the status quo in textiles doesn't just inspire. It validates. Having worked alongside brands navigating the future of fashion, this conversation peeled back layers revealing how much still needs changing. Borre stands as part of the movement pushing that change forward.
Our approach has always embraced adaptability and openness. Not the flashiest strategy. Not the quickest path to recognition. Definitely not the route to immediate rewards. But then we witness others following similar paths. Achieving their own version of success. Sharing knowledge rather than hoarding it. Suddenly our patience feels less like waiting and more like building.
Charlie Dark MBE. Our good friend and collaborator. He started Run Dem Crew without a roadmap of where it might lead. Now it defines running culture. Supports communities. Lifts individuals who themselves become tomorrow's architects of change. The seeds he planted years ago now flower in unexpected places. Through unexpected people.
These stories aren't outliers or lucky exceptions. They're proof that slow, intentional growth creates deeper roots than rapid expansion ever could. The algorithmic version of success promises virality. Overnight transformation. Immediate recognition. But beneath that noise operates another rhythm entirely. The patient beat of genuine impact.
The seeds you plant today. The conversations you initiate. The standards you refuse to compromise. These small, daily acts of intention become the foundations of something that outlasts you. Something your future self—and perhaps generations yet unborn—will recognise as the quiet beginnings of transformation.
Look beyond tomorrow's metrics. Beyond next quarter's goals. Plant something that might take decades to fully emerge. This is how we change everything. Not all at once. But inevitably.