Does What You Do Matter?

Yes. It's a paradox.

Many of us want to make a difference in the world. But there seems to be a contradiction. You are only one person. The world is big. There are many people in the world. So, does what you do even matter? Can your actions really make a difference in a world of 8 billion humans and global problems?

There are two ways to think about this dichotomy. Let's call them the empowered view and the defeatist view.

The Defeatist View

This perspective frames your actions as too small to matter. With billions of people on the planet and innumerable problems, what difference can one life make? Maybe you can nudge something here or there, but not enough to move the global needle. It feels like a reasonable conclusion. The world is enormous. Its troubles are many. And you? You're just one among billions.

Each of us is like a single raindrop in an ocean of complex problems. Yes, history remembers a few who altered its course. But they’re rare outliers. We can’t all be Gandhi or Einstein, Jobs or Mandela, Lincoln or Jesus. That level of impact is unreasonable to expect.

And those who have changed the world? Weren’t they born with advantages—wealth, genius, connections, luck? I don't have any of those. So why bother? Surely it’s better to focus on living a decent, quiet life than chasing some grand illusion of making a dent in the universe.

Besides, changing the world seems exhausting. Endless work, uphill battles, and no promise of reward. It's a steep price.

The Empowered View

On the other hand, we have the empowered view. Someone in this camp believes that surely one person can change the world, even if not directly. He or she can influence those around them such that they go on to have an impact. After all, everything is connected, and there are domino effects.

This person puts encouraging quotes from influential people all over their office.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” - Mahatma Gandhi

“What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.”- Jane Goodall

“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.” - Mother Teresa

Teddy Roosevelt's Man in the Arena speech.

Etc...

Logical Reasoning

There seems to be some truth in both of these opposing viewpoints. So, how can we know which is correct?

Rather than trying to figure out which one is true and navigating the complexities of human bias, let's focus on the logical aspects of this question by using axiomatic reasoning to outline some fundamental truths about change.

Postulate 1:

The world is a complex system.

Complex systems are governed by feedback loops and extreme sensitivity to initial conditions. Think of the Butterfly Effect: the idea that a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a chain of weather events that causes a tornado in Texas. A small change in the conditions at any point in time can be magnified over time due to positive feedback loops.

You will inadvertently change the world whether you try to or not, just by the nature of your small, seemingly insignificant actions and how they affect those around you. In attempting to influence one thing you care about, you may influence many things.

Postulate 2:

All change stems from action. All action occurs in the present. Therefore, all change occurs as a result of actions in the present.

Change doesn’t happen by thinking about the past or worrying about the future. No matter how big or small, change starts by doing something in the present moment. If no one acts today, nothing changes tomorrow. This means the only time we ever have any real power to shape the world is now. Waiting for the “right time” or for someone else to act doesn't lead to the changes we hope to see.

Postulate 3:

The macrostate is composed of many microstates. For the macrostate to change, the individual microstates must change.

Big change needs to go through the process of small change. It's the only way it can happen. Think of it from the perspective of when the change is complete. If global change has occurred, that means lots of small-scale or individual changes have occurred.

For example, imagine a binary, amoral example. Suppose "Square World" is red because all the individual squares are red. If you want to change Square World to green, most individual squares need to become green. While each square can be subtly influenced by the color of the squares around it, each square only has the power to change its own color.

Square World is red because each individual square is red.

For Square World to become predominantly green, most individual squares must become green.

Change starts with an individual.

From the perspective of the individual square, the decision is either red or green.

For the individual, it's red or green.

There's no, "I wonder what color Sally down the street or Edgar across town is." It's red or green.

Whether you're the "cause" or not, you are part of the whole. Therefore, if you want to see a change in the world, logically, you must be that change.

The Man Who Saved the World

On the night of September 26, 1983, during the height of the Cold War, Stanislav Petrov, a Soviet lieutenant colonel, was monitoring a missile warning system in a bunker outside Moscow. Suddenly, alarms blared, and computers reported that five U.S. nuclear missiles had been launched and were headed toward the Soviet Union.

Protocol demanded that Petrov immediately report the launch to his superiors, likely triggering a retaliatory nuclear strike. But something felt off. The system was new and unproven. Why would the U.S. launch only five missiles? Petrov reasoned that a real attack would involve hundreds. He trusted his gut and chose not to report the warning, assuming it was a false alarm.

He was right. A technical error with the satellite caused the alert. Sunlight reflected off clouds had been misinterpreted as missile launches. By choosing inaction over blind obedience, Petrov averted a nuclear exchange that could have killed tens of millions and plunged the world into a catastrophic nuclear winter.

He faced no honors at the time—just suspicion and silence. But in hindsight, Petrov’s quiet courage may have saved humanity. One man, one decision, no glory.

The Woman Who Started a War and Ended Slavery

Harriet Beecher Stowe, a mother and teacher from Connecticut, was deeply bothered by the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act, which forced free states to return escaped slaves to their owners. She believed that if she could help people feel the humanity of the enslaved, hearts might change.

Stowe published Uncle Tom’s Cabin in 1852. It told the story of Tom, a kind and dignified enslaved man, and the brutal system that dehumanized him. The book didn’t rely on argument, but rather on empathy. It became a runaway bestseller, selling over 300,000 copies in its first year in the U.S. and millions worldwide.

The book enraged the South and galvanized the North. It turned many indifferent Northerners into abolitionists, igniting widespread public debate. The South responded with censorship and pro-slavery novels, while abolitionists used the book to rally support.

When Abraham Lincoln met Stowe during the Civil War, he allegedly said, “So you’re the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war.”

While that may be apocryphal, it captures the truth that Uncle Tom’s Cabin helped shift the moral tide in America. It didn’t just reflect anti-slavery sentiment; it intensified it. One woman with no political power wrote a novel and helped lay the emotional groundwork for the Civil War and the end of slavery.

The Forest Man of India

In 1979, 16-year-old Jadav Payeng, a young farmer from Assam, India, witnessed something that broke his heart. Dozens of snakes lay dead on a barren sandbar of the Brahmaputra River, scorched by the sun with no trees to shade or shelter them. Deeply moved, Jadav wanted to do something about it, so he planted trees.

He started small, planting bamboo saplings with his own hands. The land was infertile, dry, and dismissed by others as hopeless. But Jadav returned day after day, carrying water, seeds, and soil. He worked alone, planting trees, nurturing them, and protecting them from cattle and erosion. Over time, shrubs turned into thickets, and thickets into groves.

Decades later, what began as one boy’s response to a patch of lifeless sand had grown into a 1,360-acre forest—larger than New York’s Central Park. "Molai" forest now houses elephants, Bengal tigers, rhinos, deer, and hundreds of bird species. The local ecosystem, once desolate, thrives with biodiversity.

Jadav never sought fame or funding. He just kept showing up, tree after tree, year after year. His story shows that one person, working consistently on something important to them, can literally reshape the Earth.

The Second Person

Change isn't always about the first person who stands up and does something or speaks out. It's often about the second person. "The first follower is what transforms a lone nut into a leader." Derek Sivers says it best in this short TED talk.

So, Empowered or Defeatist?

Both can be argued, but logically, if you want to change the world, the only thing you can change is yourself, and you must.

Does what you do matter? Yes. Although you may not have control over the downstream consequences and the effects on the world, you have the power to change yourself. That's the paradox.

Still not convinced? Think of it like Pascal's Wager. You can be defeatist and right, in which case, you make no difference. You can be defeatist and wrong, in which case, you waste your life not trying.

Or you can be empowered and wrong, in which case, you strive for something extraordinary, which you may not achieve, but at least you live with purpose. Or finally, you can be empowered and right—and change the world.

Die trying. What's the alternative?

When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world. But I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation. When I found I couldn’t change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn’t change the town, and as an older man, I tried to change my family. Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself. But suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation, and I could indeed have changed the world. — Unknown Monk

You'll be dead soon.

The only time you can change yourself is now.

Time's ticking.

Tick.

Tock...