Complexity Is Cowardice
We worship complexity like a false god. In systems, in ideas, in lifestyles—complexity is paraded as sophistication. Layers of jargon, piles of features, endless caveats—these aren’t signs of mastery; they’re symptoms of confusion. Here’s the truth no one likes to admit: complexity is what you cling to when you can’t deliver quality.
Complexity for the Sake of Complexity
Let’s call it what it is: a crutch. Look at software bloated with features no one uses, homes cluttered with trinkets no one needs, relationships weighed down by unnecessary drama. Complexity becomes a smokescreen, obscuring the fact that beneath it all, there’s no substance.
So why do people choose complexity? Because simplicity terrifies them. It lays you bare. A simple system, idea, or relationship has nowhere to hide. It’s clean, elegant, and unforgiving. If it works, it works. If it fails, there’s no excuse.
Simplicity is the Ultimate Sophistication
Quality is simple. Not easy—simple. The best software is intuitive. The strongest families are unburdened by petty grievances. The healthiest bodies don’t rely on convoluted diets or biohacks—they rely on fundamentals: eat well, move, sleep.
Minimalism isn’t about stripping things away for aesthetics; it’s about distilling life to its essentials. Clarity over clutter. Function over facade. Simplicity is not the absence of effort—it’s the height of it.
“Simplicity is the result of mastery, not its antithesis.”
The Tyranny of Modernity
Modern life glorifies choice and complexity. Open an app, walk into a store, join a conversation—you’re inundated with options, most of them meaningless. Ask yourself: Does weighing all these trivial decisions make you happier, smarter, or stronger? Or are you just being kept busy, mistaking noise for purpose?
Traditional systems understood something modernity refuses to acknowledge: less is more. Hierarchies, rituals, rules—these weren’t chains; they were anchors. They provided structure so people could focus on what mattered. Compare that to the chaos of modern systems, where “freedom” means drowning in a sea of noise.
Minimalism isn’t new-age fluff—it’s survival. Reject the overload, or be consumed by it.
Minimalism in All Systems
Let’s break this down:
- Software: The best tools don’t try to be everything—they focus on what matters. Apple Notes nails this. It’s fast, simple, and works exactly how you need it to. Compare that to the endless parade of apps weighed down by convoluted integrations, subscription schemes, slow load times, and features no one asked for. They’re bloated, not better.
- The Human Body: Fad diets. Magical supplements. The latest gym contraption. Most of this is nonsense. Your body doesn’t need complexity; it needs the basics: real food, natural movement, deep sleep. The truth? Overcomplication is just a fancy way to dodge discipline.
- Relationships: Here’s a secret: families don’t fall apart because of a lack of love. They fall apart because of clutter. Arguments about nothing. Expectations no one agreed to. Pride turning into poison. Cut the noise, and love will do the heavy lifting.
- Living Spaces: A home isn’t a showroom. It’s not a storage locker either. Its job is simple: give you a place to rest and connect. Everything else? Junk. Toss it.
Simplicity liberates. Complexity suffocates.
Traditional Values vs. Modern Chaos
Here’s the twist: the simplicity of traditional values—respect, responsibility, discipline—has been dismissed as outdated. But what has replaced it? A circus of endless self-expression, performative identity, and relentless consumption. Is this progress? Or is it just chaos wearing a shiny suit?
Modernity doesn’t solve problems; it repackages them with more layers. Traditional values weren’t perfect, but they prioritized simplicity on purpose. Modernity prioritizes complexity in everything, leaving us lost in the weeds, endlessly dissecting minutiae that don’t matter.
The Courage to Choose Less
Minimalism isn’t just a design choice; it’s a way of living. It’s rebellion. It’s saying “no” to the sprawling mess of modern life and “yes” to clarity. And here’s the kicker: simplicity isn’t easy. It requires discipline to strip away what doesn’t matter, intelligence to identify what does, and courage to stand by those choices.
Stop admiring complexity. Stop excusing systems, relationships, or habits that bury flaws under a hundred layers. Have the guts to call out needless complexity when you see it—and the courage to simplify. It’s the only path to quality.
“The world is noisy, but you don’t have to be. Choose less. Live more.”
The Provocation
Complexity is seductive because it masks mediocrity. Simplicity is terrifying because it demands excellence. Where in your life are you overcomplicating? What would happen if you stripped it all back—your work, your home, your relationships—until only the essential remained?
The answer might scare you. But it will also set you free.