How Context Shapes Us—More Than We Realize

In an experiment, audiences were randomly assigned to two groups: one received a large bucket of popcorn, the other a medium-sized bucket.

The group with the large bucket ate 53% more popcorn—even though the popcorn was stale and unpleasant.

Could you conclude that this group simply loved popcorn more—or had bigger appetites?

No.

The larger container itself subtly expanded their consumption.

This tells us two things:
First, human behavior is profoundly shaped by context—we’re far more environmentally responsive than we assume.
Second, we can intentionally reshape our surroundings to nudge ourselves toward better habits—even without willpower or self-discipline.

Two Ways to Improve Your Luck

Luck plays a bigger role in life outcomes than most of us admit.

Imagine growing up in a remote village. Even if you’re brilliant—and even if you get lucky—you’ll likely top out as “the richest person in the village.”

So, Method #1 for improving luck: Put yourself where opportunity density is highest.
If you’re in Beijing during an internet boom, your odds of landing in a high-growth tech role are easily 1,000× higher than if you’re stuck in that village—or even a smaller city. Location isn’t just geography; it’s access architecture.

Method #2: Make yourself needed.
That need can come from deep expertise, consistent reliability, or unique influence. The more people who genuinely rely on you, the wider your exposure to unexpected opportunities.
Example: A highly trusted village doctor hears everything—about land deals, family disputes, new government programs—simply because people seek him out daily. His “luck” isn’t random; it’s networked.

Why Smart People Often Struggle to Earn Well

Intelligent people tend to seek clarity—especially in collaboration, negotiation, or partnership.

But reality runs on functional ambiguity. In business, many rules are fuzzy, implicit, or negotiable—and that fuzziness rarely undermines results.

I’ve watched sharp people stall negotiations over minor contractual phrasing, miss deadlines chasing theoretical perfection, or alienate partners by over-optimizing trivial terms. They win the footnote—and lose the deal.

Clarity is valuable—but only when it serves action, not substitutes for it.

A Story About Cause and Consequence

Last weekend, I attended an event where a former central SOE executive shared his journey.

While still employed, he quietly founded two companies—neither bearing his name on paper. One handled engineering outsourcing—and now carries ¥16 million in debt.

His family background was unremarkable: peasant parents. His father was the second of eight siblings; his mother, one of five. Two unusual details stood out: his maternal uncle died of cancer around 2002; his maternal aunt struggled with mental health. He also lost an older brother at birth, a twin sister via miscarriage, and a younger sister later in childhood.

During construction projects, a fatal accident occurred—costing him ¥1.8 million in compensation.

Across both family and enterprise, several unnatural or premature deaths recurred—and he believes they left quiet but tangible marks on his trajectory.

He closed with three reflections:

  • For those who’ve passed, money matters less than dignity—and thoughtful remembrance.
  • Life deserves reverence—not abstraction. Never treat any death as “just data.”
  • Our energy, resilience, and even methods often flow from our lineage—including those who died too soon. Not metaphorically. Literally.

The Real Secret to Connecting with Exceptional People

Learning from people who are significantly ahead of you—in skill, judgment, or impact—is among the fastest paths to growth. And yes: sometimes, they become pivotal supporters—what some call “gu ren” (benefactors).

But most of us stall at step one: getting noticed. Why? Either we lack access—or we send a cold message, get no reply, meet once awkwardly, then fade into polite silence. Eventually, we stop trying.

The truth? Connecting with exceptional people isn’t mysterious. It’s structural—and deeply human. Here are two reliable approaches:

Method 1: Become Their Client First
Many recoil at this—it feels “transactional,” even crass. So they reverse the order: try to be friends first, then explore collaboration. But that rarely works. Why would someone invest time in a stranger as a friend—especially when they’re inundated? Even shared meals often produce only “dinner friends”: warm, fleeting, low-stakes.

I made this mistake early on. When I first entered the internet world, I sent a long, earnest QQ message to a well-known founder. He didn’t reply.

It took years to realize: You don’t earn attention without offering something real first.

In 2020, I wanted to learn from a bestselling author—someone whose books sold millions of copies. No intro. No mutual contact. Then I saw he offered paid 1:1 sessions. I transferred ¥5,000 via WeChat, booked two hours of coffee—and added a short work trip to make it seamless.

Those two hours delivered insights worth far more than ¥5,000. More importantly, he got to see me—my questions, my follow-ups, my ability to absorb and reflect. After that, our WeChat exchanges became natural. Later, we met offline several times. Today, we’re friends—not because we forced closeness, but because value came first.

Method 2: Become Indispensable—Even If You Start With Nothing
Time is the scarcest resource for exceptional people. To earn theirs, you must offer rare, concrete value—ideally, something they can’t easily replace.

What if you’re young, broke, unknown, and inexperienced?

Then go extremely narrow. Master one tiny, high-leverage domain so thoroughly that your contribution becomes visible—and useful.

In 2009, I wanted to learn from an industry leader—but I was brand-new to the internet, had zero connections, no money, and no reputation. So I joined his forum, applied to be an intern moderator, and committed to posting and replying to high-quality threads—every single day—for 30 days straight.

I did it. I got promoted to full moderator. I joined his core team. I met him. We talked. We collaborated. Later, I spoke at his annual conference.

None of it required charisma or luck. Just consistency, specificity, and respect for his time.

So here’s the quiet truth:
Relationships with exceptional people begin—not with friendship, but with mutual utility.
You pay, or you deliver. You solve, or you enable.
Only after that foundation is solid does trust deepen—and only then does friendship become meaningful, sustainable, and truly transformative.