Dependency is the real problem. To be relevant in an organisation, or even in an industry, one must be dependent—on structures, on hierarchies, on approval. And to be dependent in this way requires the curtailing of one’s own insight, the conscious trimming of perspective to fit what the system already permits. This is not an incidental effect; it is the price of belonging.
Individually, such compromises may seem small. One person silences themselves, one team abandons a better path, one company repeats the template of another. But at the scale of the whole system, these accumulations become a drag, producing friction that cannot be wished away. The turbulence of countless deferred possibilities becomes the very texture of the field.
What emerges is inefficiency disguised as order. Energy is spent on managing dependencies rather than creating alternatives. The organisation sustains itself not by vision but by circulating constraints, by metabolising the friction it generates. What feels like stability is in fact the endless balancing of entropic loss.
We experience this not abstractly but directly, in culture and politics, in our own psychology. The sense of frustration, of ideas smothered, of effort wasted, is the human face of systemic turbulence. It is not just a company problem; it is the lived effect of a world built on dependencies that forbid their own transcendence.