Humans are walking paradoxes—complex, layered, and often full of surprises. A scientist might spend her days decoding molecular structures, then go home and lose herself in oil paints. A finance executive could secretly be a poet, writing verses more moving than market trends. A waitress might be jotting down screenplay notes between tables, crafting stories that rival what’s showing on Netflix.
We often assume expertise must match a title, but some of the most profound insights come from the least expected places. And sometimes, it’s the combination of seemingly unrelated interests that creates true innovation. Steve Jobs is a perfect example—his fascination with calligraphy and philosophy, when fused with his love for technology, helped shape the aesthetic of modern computing. The Mac’s typeface and interface weren’t just functional; they were beautiful. That happened because of his paradoxes, not in spite of them.
On the flip side, titles alone don’t guarantee mastery. A parent volunteering part-time in a classroom might connect with students more deeply than a certified teacher. A high schooler passionate about geopolitics could out-analyze a foreign policy “expert.” And in the world of finance, we saw a retail investor like Roaring Kitty outsmart Wall Street veterans during the GameStop saga—doing his own research while hedge funds completely missed the mark.
When I was building TULA and Troops, I saw this firsthand. In the beauty industry, I was “the tech guy.” In tech, I was “the beauty guy.” But the randomness? That was the advantage. In beauty, we used SaaS playbooks. In SaaS, we applied consumer-brand marketing tactics. That cross-pollination made both companies better.
The truth is, skill, passion, and insight rarely wear name tags. They live in the curious, unpredictable spaces between our identities. That’s where magic often happens—where paradox becomes power.
