Risk carries a negative connotation. We’re taught to avoid it at all costs–or at least minimize it.

In the current era of big data, smart technology, and ever-evolving algorithms, risk is billed as something that can be measured. Managed, even.

But can we truly manage risk? I’m not sure if anyone has really figured out how. Even the best statisticians can’t predict the future. No one can make certain the uncertain.

This undesirable, unruly thing we call risk is full of paradoxes. Here are some of them.

First, nobody wants it but everyone is exposed to it. Risk is simply a fact of life.

You take a risk when you get in your car. You take a risk when you get out of your car.

You take a risk when you open a business. You take a risk when you stay out of business (and choose instead to be employed by someone else).

There are risks to everything. We can avoid certain activities and behaviors but the reality is that we’re not really getting rid of risk. We’re merely trading one risk for another.

For example, in rush hour traffic we may think we’ll be better off in the next lane. But ludicrously, as soon as we change lanes the new lane slows down and the old one picks up.

Is it really possible to pick the ‘right’ lane? And does changing lanes really make that much of a difference? After all, both lanes are headed in the same direction.

Another funny thing about risk is that you can deflect it but not without paying a cost.

Since nobody wants risk, the winners become those who can afford to run the farthest from it. Eventually, safety becomes a commodity–something that can be bought and sold.

But notice: there’s a cost. There’s always a cost. Even if just opportunity cost.

Going back to the rush hour example, the cost of switching lanes could be greater than the cost of simply staying put. Every time you switch lanes, you risk getting hit or running into someone else because of your irregular, unexpected movement. When you go against the grain of risk, you pay a premium for the opportunity to escape one risk for the potential safety of another.

So trying to minimize risk actually costs you but you’re not guaranteed a positive outcome–which is in and of itself a risk.

Next, when we try to dull the negative effects of risk, everything becomes dull. Things aren’t necessarily bad, but they’re not great. Everything is just fine–which is fine until it’s not. Because ‘just fine’ gets quite predictable and boring after a while.

Avoiding risk creates homogeneity because we tend to stick to what we know and stay away from what we don’t. It’s a short cut. ‘Tried and true’.

But in cozy quarters where there’s no friction, there’s also no growth. Few new ideas are birthed. There’s little incentive to venture out. So we flatline.

This is how echo chambers are made. They’re simply groups of risk-averse individuals who’ve gotten too comfortable to challenge the status quo. Or worst, to allow themselves to be challenged.

On the other hand, audacity breaks the mold of mediocrity. It pushes boundaries. It blazes into the cold unknown. It pushes things forward.

But in the end, there may not be anything to show for being bold or taking risks. You may still be empty handed. People may look at you and think you failed.

Sadly, reward is not guaranteed. That is, after all, the definition of risk.

But even then, you didn’t completely lose out because you know that you tried. You traded the certainty of ‘good’ for a shot at ‘great’. You didn’t settle for ‘just fine.’

Risk takers are those who give up their comfort for the promise of freedom. That’s the price we pay. It’s the gamble we take.