Time Is the Ultimate Filter

Homer never imagined Instagram quotes. He likely never imagined his name would still be known, 2,700 years after The Odyssey was first recited aloud in ancient Greece.

Yet today, his work is still taught in classrooms, reprinted in dozens of languages, and quoted in pop culture and literature. It wasn’t just a book. It was a thread that connected generations.

The same is true of ​The Art of War​ by Sun Tzu, a military strategy manual written in 5th-century China. Fortune 500 executives still use it in boardrooms today.

And Meditations by Marcus Aurelius? A personal diary, never meant to be published, now a spiritual anchor for millions navigating modern life.

These books have no launch campaigns. No social media managers. No email funnels. Yet they’ve outlived wars, empires, economic crashes—and their authors. Why?

Now scroll through the nonfiction bestseller list on Amazon.

Each week brings a new parade of “must-read” titles—tactics for productivity, hacks for happiness, stories about building a business in five easy steps. Some are genuinely useful. Many are ghostwritten, built for virality, and forgotten within months.

That’s not a criticism. It’s a pattern. The market rewards novelty—but time rewards depth. And time keeps better score.

Printing Press vs. Clubhouse

In 1440, Johannes Gutenberg invented something that would change the world more than he could ever imagine.

The printing press.

It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t go viral. But it unlocked something humanity had never experienced: the mass distribution of knowledge. Books, once written by hand and guarded in monasteries, could now reach thousands.

Literacy expanded. Ideas traveled. Revolutions began. And for centuries, the book became humanity’s most trusted tool for learning, remembering, and evolving.

Now jump to 2020. Clubhouse—an audio-based social network—launched to a select group of Silicon Valley insiders.

It felt electric. Live conversations with billionaires. Exclusive invites. A new frontier of media. In a matter of weeks, Clubhouse was everywhere. Investors poured in. Celebrities hosted shows. Startups pivoted their strategy to “social audio.”

By 2022, it was quiet. The rooms were empty. The buzz was gone.

Gutenberg’s press still has echoes in every ​Kindle and printed book​ today.Clubhouse is a footnote.

What makes something endure across centuries, while another fizzles in a flash?

It’s not just about quality. It’s about something deeper.

What Has Lasted Is Likely to Last

So what’s the difference? Why do some ideas live for centuries while others vanish in the span of a product cycle?

There’s a principle that explains it. One that’s less about technology or timing—and more about time itself. It’s called the Lindy Effect.

The idea is simple, but powerful: The longer something has lasted, the longer it's likely to last. Time, in this sense, behaves like a prediction model.

• If a book has been read for a hundred years, chances are it’ll be read for another hundred.
• If a tool has been used for generations, it likely contains structure that lasts.
• If a tradition has outlived empires, there’s probably something in it we shouldn’t ignore.

The Lindy Effect doesn’t guarantee survival; it only reveals resilience. Time is the filter. And what remains—after wear, erosion, randomness, and reinvention—tends to be built on deeper foundations.

It’s true for books. It’s true for tools. It’s true for the habits that quietly shape our days.

Time Punishes the Fragile

Take wealth, for example. One person wins the lottery. Another invests patiently for over 20 years.

The lottery winner gets a headline and a windfall. But study after study shows many end up worse off—emotionally and financially—just a few years later. The money came fast, but so did the pressure. The change was too sudden to adapt to. There was no structure to catch the fall.

Now consider the slow builder. They ​start small​. They save when they can. Invest what they understand. They learn from mistakes. Adjust through downturns. Grow with the rhythm of the market.

Twenty years in, their wealth might still be modest—but it’s rooted. It didn’t just survive time. It grew because of time.

That’s the Lindy Effect in motion. It’s not a question of discipline or luck. It’s about the nature of what’s being built. Quick wins often collapse. Slow gains tend to stick. And the ones built with patience tend to surprise you the most. Time punishes the fragile and rewards the resilient.

What I Learn From the Lindy Effect

The older I get, the more I pay attention to what survives. Here are a few patterns I try to follow—not as rules, but as reminders.

1. What stays will stay longer

If something has lasted, there’s usually a reason.

Books that still sell after 30 years. Strength routines that outperform fitness fads. Simple meals, handwritten notes, and long walks—none of it is new. But all of it is Lindy.

When in doubt, trust things that don’t change.

2. What takes longer to build tends to stay longer

Muscle takes time. So does trust. So does a reputation. But once they’re there, they’re hard to take away.

In contrast, fat loss from a crash diet? Easy to reverse. A spike in sales from a giveaway? Gone by next quarter. Fast is seductive. But slow has staying power.

3. Use Lindy as a compass

I now ask myself:

• Am I building something that grows stronger with time—or weaker?
• Will this still matter in five years? Ten?
• Does this get better as it ages—or does it rot?

It’s not always easy to tell. But the more often I choose the thing that takes longer, the more peace I feel. Because I know I’m not just chasing momentum. I’m building something that time can work on.

Give Your Work the Time It Needs

We live in a world obsessed with speed.

First to market. First to post. First to grow. But time has its own rhythm.And the things worth keeping usually ignore the rush.

So ask yourself:

What’s one thing in your life—your work, your health, or your relationships—that might take longer to build, but will last longer once it’s there?

That’s your signal. That’s your Lindy. Let it take the time it needs.