Strategic thinking and the tides: A story of strategy and survival
Let me tell you a story about strategic thinking, but also about behavior economics.
Once upon a time, on a remote island lost in the vast ocean, there were two small villages. Each village lived on opposite sides: one to the east and the other to the west. On this island, the sea was the only source of sustenance. The waves brought the hope of fish that fed the inhabitants. They also dictated the rules of survival, as the tides determined when there was abundance and when there was scarcity.
On the eastern side, the fishermen were known as the “barehanded ones.” They fished with their own hands, without the aid of any tools. Driven by determination but lacking much strategy, they would dive into the water at any time, hoping to find something to eat. Not fully understanding the rhythm of the tides. They fished at all hours, braving the fury of the sea without regard for high or low tide. They ventured out whenever they could. Sometimes they returned with their hands full and spirits satisfied. But other times they came back with only a few fish, exhausted and wounded from the constant struggle against the unpredictable fate of the tides.
On the western side, the fishermen were different. They were known as the “strategic hands”, (strategic thinking), because they had learned to listen to the whispers of the ocean. They knew that high tide brought with it the generosity of the sea, and that low tide was a time for patience. Instead of wasting their strength, they calmly awaited the arrival of favorable waves. When the high tide flooded the shore with an unusual abundance, they gathered the fish stranded on the coast, collecting more than they needed. During low tide, they took shelter from the harsh weather, staying safe and secure. They relied on the abundance they had learned to harvest.
The strategic hands didn’t just see the sea as a source of sustenance but as a teacher. With strategic thinking, They had learned to listen to its whispers, to read its signs, and to wait for the right moment. They saw every high tide as a gift from the ocean and knew they should neither rush nor waste the opportunity. “The sea always provides, but only to those who know how to wait,” they would say to each other. They spoke with the calm of those who had made peace with the rhythm of nature.
But over on the beach of the barehanded fishermen, confusion about the coming and going of the tides was constant. Although they sensed that the waves came and went, they didn’t know when or how to predict their behavior. Amid this uncertainty, individuals emerged who proclaimed themselves to be “tide sages,” claiming to know the ocean’s secrets. These charlatans raised their voices with theories and predictions about when high tide would arrive or how long low tide would last. Their words, instead of bringing clarity, only sowed more confusion among the fishermen.
Desperate with hunger, many blindly followed these false gurus, plunging into the waters during low tide, only to return empty-handed. Others, filled with fear, avoided the sea even when the high tide was evident. They settled for the scraps they found on the shore. Some of these self-proclaimed prophets gained fame and respect for their vague pronouncements. They predicted that the tide would eventually change, as it always did. But without specifying when, they merely repeated the inevitable: that after high tide, low tide would follow, and vice versa. Lacking real guidance, the fishermen sought something to believe in, so they elevated these charlatans to the status of gurus, revering them in their desperation to cling to any hope.
The barehanded fishermen remained famished and desperate. Their impatience drove them to venture out during low tide, relentlessly searching for what wasn’t there, tearing their feet on the rocks of the seabed. Every time they returned to the shore empty-handed, a shadow of doubt loomed over their spirits. They knew something wasn’t right, but the tradition of their village dictated that they keep trying. Day after day, they repeated this ritual of suffering, trapped in a cycle of fatigue and scarcity, which prevented them from seizing the opportunities of high tide.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, the strategic hands (strategic thinking) rested and remained well-fed. After a few hours of patience and observation, they would go out only during high tide. A simple walk along the shore was enough for them to gather more fish than they could carry in their satchels. They returned home with their hands full and their hearts at peace.
The patient hands, or the strategic hands, knew how to wait for the cycle of the tide. Meanwhile, in the east, the impatient hands, the bare hands, grew desperate and kept trying to fish even when the tide wasn’t in their favor. The sea’s abundance arrived in similar amounts on both sides of the island. Over time, this balance began to shift. More and more catches accumulated on the western side, in the hands of the strategic fishermen.
Now, that great number of fish stranded during high tide only went to the strategic hands. Thus, the sea’s wealth shifted from the impatient hands to the patient hands. The impatient hands failed to wait for high tide. The patient hands seized the right moment. It also moved from the weak hands, too hungry to wait, to the strong hands, well-nourished and able to endure.With each cycle, the barehanded fishermen grew weaker and weaker, while the strategic fishermen grew stronger and stronger.
As time went on, the difference between the two villages became increasingly evident.
The strategic fishermen soon began to have surpluses, allowing them to sell part of their catch. Again, strategic thinking. Instead of building luxurious huts or buying jewels, they invested their wealth in fishing nets. They spread the nets out during low tide. When the tide rose, they easily gathered massive amounts of fish. Their catches increased, allowing them to trade a greater number of fish. This trade enabled them to continue investing. This time, they invested in large fish ponds.
After distributing the food they needed, they placed the captured fish in the ponds. There, the fish reproduced and multiplied on their own. This further increased their holdings of fish.
Even during each low tide, they spread out their nets to continue catching fish. They brought the newly caught fish to the ponds. In no time, their cultivated fish banks provided more food than they could consume or export. The fish ponds grew so large that the strategic fishermen significantly reduced their activity. They only needed to add a few fish a week to keep increasing their fortune. Eventually, they ended up spreading their nets just twice a year, almost as a tradition, but without hunger driving their lives. They fished only to honor the old days, as a reminder of their village’s origins. They began to prosper so much that they no longer depended on their daily efforts to survive.
Meanwhile, the barehanded fishermen remained trapped in their arduous struggle against the tide, an activity that became ingrained as part of the village’s identity. Traditions in the village took root. Pagan traditions formed around misery, perpetuating it as a point of pride in their lineage. The villagers turned low tide days into festivities, honoring those who managed to fish despite the hardships. They celebrated wounds as symbols of honor and worshiped the rocks that cut their feet as guardians of necessary sacrifice. Life was hard for them, but they believed it was meant to be that way.
However, among the younger generation of barehanded fishermen, doubts began to arise. They heard rumors that in the west, the fishermen lived in abundance, without the need to tear up their hands or feet. Intrigued and eager for change, some set out on a journey to the village of the strategic fishermen. There, they learned the language of the tides and the use of nets for fishing. Over time, these young fishermen returned to their village, bringing back not only new knowledge but also the hope of a different life. Although many of the elders clung to their old ways, some open-minded individuals began to embrace change and strategic thinking.
The new generation learned to wait for high tide, to plan, and to build a more sustainable life. The village of barehanded fishermen began to transform, slowly but surely, leaving behind the hardships of an endless cycle of misery. The island and the ocean continued on their course, with the tides ebbing and flowing, but now, at least, some knew how to move with them, rather than struggle against them.
And so it was that the village of barehanded fishermen began to write a new story, one where strategy and wisdom replaced blind sacrifice, and where hope and prosperity started to bloom on the horizon of the tides.
What this tale reveals is more than a moral lesson—it’s an operational truth. Success doesn’t come from effort alone. It comes from applying that effort at the right time, in the right way, with full clarity on what truly moves the needle. That’s exactly what operational focus is your most underrated growth lever breaks down: how consistent prioritization, strategic patience, and focused execution aren’t just tactics—they’re what separates momentum from stagnation in modern business.