This infinity loop is called the Adaptive Cycle. It was first developed to explain the life cycle of forests, and is the most powerfully simple way to describe resilience.
More than just bouncing back from adversity, resilience is a loop – constant and in multitudes. Once you see it this way you’ll see it everywhere – in life, relationships, career, industry, projects, and nature.
There are four phases (sometimes referred to as: r, K, Ω, and α) to the Adaptive Cycle.
Let’s start with perhaps the most pleasant one. This is a young forest, a true love, a growing scale-up, a newly elected government, the beginning of a new job. It’s the phase where we’ve found something special and want to run with it.
We then progress up the front loop. It’s on the front loop that we’re strongest, happiest, and most constructive. Life is beautiful on the front loop.
The next phase is success, maximized and extended by standardization and optimization. There’s comfort with the status quo, but also some signs of complacency and decay. This is an industry’s best quarter, an athlete’s top performance, a lifetime achievement award, a mature forest.
We like this phase so much that we often do everything we can to avoid moving beyond it. We lose adaptive capacity and fall into the Rigidity Trap. It’s here that we see big corporate bail-outs, Blockbuster ignoring Netflix, in-it-for-the-kids marriages, climate change denial.
All good things eventually come to an end – one way or another. There comes a moment of disruption, often not of our choosing. Injury, death, break-up, divorce, disaster, downturn, revolution, even good things like invention, retirement, or winning the lotto. A before and after.
Next comes the release phase, when everything just falls apart (unless you’re the disruptor). There’s a period of denial and mourning, of coping and confusion. What was isn’t and what will hasn’t. Uncertainty abounds.
Then, following some acceptance of a new reality, we try to make sense of our place in it. This can move surprisingly fast or painfully slow, but regardless – beware – the beast is in the back loop. This climb can be very difficult, lonely, and hopeless.
The fourth phase is where we begin to regain hope. Exciting possibilities emerge – often many of them! Vegetation pushes through the burnt forest floor. Individuals date, create, and try new things. Startups start up. Let a thousand flowers bloom.
The most promising of those possibilities go on to where we started, where winners get the nourishment they need to thrive. But if they don’t, those ideas risk falling into the Poverty Trap. Startups need capital, relationships need time, books need editing, forests need water.
Adaptive Cycles can be micro and personal, like writing a new song or grieving the loss of a pet. Or they can be macro and global, like the birth of cryptocurrency or the extinction of species. They can move slowly like human rights movements, or quickly like an improv scene.
Humankind is here, at the convergence of multiple disruptive events caused by late-stage capitalism, major political/cultural shifts, and climate change. There was a before and there will be an after this macro moment in time.
We are immersed in uncertainty and we should know to expect some difficult times ahead before seeing the hopeful light of new order at the end of the tunnel. As they say, the only way out is through.
What makes the Adaptive Cycle such a powerful visual is that the front loop crosses the back loop. It’s the intersection of the strong and capable with the weak and vulnerable – positions everyone is in at various times – that makes community an x-factor for resilience.
Resilience isn’t just bouncing back to normal. It’s ensemble sense-making. It’s an assortment of emerging adaptive cycles – from hopeless to hopeful, creative to confused, weakness to strength, helper to helped. Resilience is a knowing embrace of the emerging uncertain.
Adapted from a Twitter thread originally published on April 19, 2020.
Pictured: New growth emerging from ground charred the previous summer by the 5992 hectare Trozzo Creek wildfire in 2021.
