O, I am fortune’s fool.”
In this line from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Romeo feels that fortune was being particularly cruel since he just got married and might be put to death.
When we think about luck, our attention often turns to fate. So much literature, religion and popular culture nudge us to consider destiny as something preordained. If fate deals us a good hand, we call ourselves lucky. If not, we become fortune’s fool, as Romeo lamented.
Stoic philosophy nudges us to think differently about luck. There are things in our control and things we can’t influence. An ideal stoic focuses her attention on the former. As Epictetus said, “Some things are in our control and others not. Things in our control are opinion, pursuit, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever are our own actions. Things not in our control are body, property, reputation, command, and, in one word, whatever are not our own actions.”
I have tried to internalise the stoic way of life when it comes to decision-making. It has helped me prioritise better and double down on things I can actually influence.
Few years ago, I stumbled upon the phrase ‘luck surface area’ from a podcast by serial entrepreneur Jason Roberts. He explains that we can hack serendipity and make ourselves lucky. Instead of being subject to the whims and fancies of luck, we can create our own destiny.
Roberts formalised the concept into an equation, L=D*T, where L is luck, D is doing and T is telling. Luck surface area is basically doing interesting things and telling lots of people about it. Simply doing interesting things is not enough. Others need to know what we are good at. That’s how new opportunities emerge.
Some of the most transformational professional opportunities I got were the result of references from other people.
I wasn’t pitching directly. People who had seen my work told others about it. In fact, that is how I got my first book contract. A Network Capital community member read an article I had written for the World Economic Forum. She forwarded it to the editor of a newspaper, who asked me to write a weekly column. The column became reasonably popular and a publisher commissioned me to write a book, expanding on the ideas I discussed.
British psychologist Richard Wiseman studies luck for a living. He has discovered four traits that distinguish lucky people from their unluckier counterparts.
First, lucky people maximise chance opportunities. They will strike up conversations with strangers in coffee shops, trains and cabs. They are open to possibilities.
Second, they listen to their intuitions and take steps to actively boost their gut feeling by meditating and clearing their mind of other thoughts.
Third, they expect good fortune and tend to be hopeful in the face of adversity. These expectations become self-fulfilling prophecies and shape their outlook towards the future. They also help to augment their luck surface area in the most difficult of times. It is easy to lose hope. Persisting needs effort.
Lucky people go the extra mile.
Lastly, lucky people transform adversity into a competitive advantage. They employ psychological techniques, imagine how things could have been worse, do not dwell on ill fortune, and are stoic in their approach.
Sometimes life puts us in situations we don’t deserve. Death, loss, and structural disadvantages are all real challenges. Blaming people for their circumstances is perhaps the most insensitive thing to do. Accepting fate and bad luck, however, without challenging it is a self-fulfilling prophecy. If we expect luck to be divine, we won’t work to change it.
Reorienting luck as something we create isn’t just motivational. It makes practical sense and is backed by research. I have more bad days than I let on through my social media presence. On such days
I try reminding myself that luck or lack thereof is something I can shape. Unlike Romeo, I refuse to be Fortune’s fool even though I know for a fact that Fortune will make a fool out of me many times. That’s just life, I tell myself.
When I am at my lowest, I ask myself what I can do to expand the luck surface area of others. Changing the gaze of bad luck and thinking of it as a dynamic entity has often helped me take charge of tricky situations. “Why me” is perhaps the most debilitating thing to ask oneself. Try asking yourself what you can do about it. It is, of course, easier said than done, but with practice, we will learn to move forward.
Utkarsh Amitabh
CEO, Network Capital; Chevening Fellow, University of Oxford
Twitter: @utkarsh_amitabh