Entropy as Uniformity; or the Decay of Individuality

Imagine there are two mugs of coffee: one piping hot and the other stone cold. Unfortunately, the brewer forgets their newly-made drink: it is now as cold as the other. That is, the two objects became more similar. Place the coffees in identical mugs – is there really much perceptibly separating them?

Thus, a definition:

Entropy is 1) the transfer of concentrated energy (heat from the hot coffee) to areas of lower energy (the lack of heat in the cold coffee), AND 2) this transfer to such an extent that the two coffees become more uniform: more similar and more similarly perceived. That is, the coffees now look similar in their same mugs, feel similar in temperature, and smell and taste alike.

Their unique, defining characteristics are lost. Thus Entropy as Uniformity; or the Decay of Individuality.

I think about this in the context of bicycles. I want my bike to ride smoothly and be clean, and the principal way to sustainably achieve this is by investing consistent, conscious effort into my bike’s maintenance. The many ways of neglecting maintenance all converge to the one undesired similarity: a dilapidated bike.

I also think about this in the context of relationships. I want my relationships to be healthy, meaningful, and numerous. Similarly, the principal way to sustainably achieve this is by investing consistent, conscious effort into the maintenance of my relationships. The many ways of neglecting maintenance all converge to the one undesired similarity: fewer thriving relationships.

Failure to invest results in a similar consequence: few avenues to a desired state. Because proper maintenance is inevitable, things decay when the necessary attention and energy are not invested.

Now I think about this in the context of identity. I want to be a community builder, and there are few ways I can achieve this without concentrating. My ideas (potential) are becoming actions (kinetic): I hosted a dinner party, I am gauging interest in hosting a book club, and now I dream of Vinyl Swap Listening Parties and Moonlight Parties honoring the Full Moon. I also want to be in shape: I’ve been doing pushups for the last several weeks, and now I’ve purchased a pull up bar.

Where we focus our attention is a reflection of who we are. Right now, I care about nourishing a mindset centered on “shared enrichment [and] partners in making and delight” and an acceptance that “all you had (or knew) was dangerous and potent, not really effectively chained, free and wild; no more yours than they were you.”¹ The first perspective guides me toward uplifting others, and the second inspires me to give. Both come together to manifest as my focus on community.

But concentration is finite, or the time we have for it is, and I think again of writing and where I’ve left it: by the wayside. With the completion of my most recent piece, I felt like I’d reached a conclusion with my motif of hope in decline. That is, via the mode of essay, I felt I’d processed active hope so sufficiently to the extent I was ready for a new form: a story.

I made a few stabbing efforts at writing a story, but it is for me more difficult (more unfamiliar) than writing essays. My good faith engagements with writing ultimately tapered off.² All this is to say: my identity as a writer decayed because I neglected proper maintenance; I did not invest the necessary attention and energy.

I still care about my identity as a writer.

1. Selected quotes from J.R.R. Tolkien’s essay On Fairy-Stories referenced in my piece A Roadmap to Fairyland ↩︎
2. What’s more is that I feel like several ideas need to meld in my mind, with these flavors often taking weeks on end to develop. However, these coalesced ideas emerge as my throughlines. ↩︎