Exploring "Scales of Stability"

1. The number of transformations needed to get from fundamental particles (aka “seed boundaries”) to the sub-boundary types associated with a boundary. For example, a glass of water has one sub-boundary type – water molecules; but water molecules themselves would have two sub-boundary types – hydrogen and oxygen. However, we would still say that glass of water is operating at a higher scale (versus a water molecule) because creating water molecules required another set of transformations from atoms of hydrogen and oxygen.

This point is often ignored, but transformational depth is probably the most important change-defying characteristic of a boundary. This isn’t magic – rather there’s survivorship bias[1] at play. Very complicated things (i.e., made up of many, many different types of sub-boundaries) that are stable MUST be built on solid foundation of its constituent boundaries.

If this weren’t the case, the boundary in question would have ceased to exist or be observable.

2. The number of sub-boundary-instances (of any type). This bit is most closely tied to the concept of ‘bigness’. For example, a glass of water would have many fewer instances of water molecules than a river of water. The river thus operates at a higher scale of stability than a glass.

The relationship between scale and change should be obvious here.

3. The interconnectedness needed in sub-boundaries to give rise to the emergent behaviour observed at the boundary-level. For example, the water inside a freshly deceased corpse is less involved in complex interconnected circuits compared to the water found in a living human being – even if the number of water molecules are roughly the same. A living being therefore operates at a higher scale than a dead corpse.

This too is a well-studied topic in systems thinking and the relationship between change and scale should be obvious to most readers.

4. Diversity of sub-boundary-types (at the scale below) that make up a boundary. For example, a pint of water would only have one sub-boundary type – water; whereas a pint of blood would have many more sub-boundary-types. A glass of blood would then operate at a higher scale.

This one is weird because while it seems like increasing complicatedness should increase a system’s propensity for change[2]; but in really interconnected systems (where point number 2 is high) the opposite seems to emerge. I.e., the system’s propensity to change further decreases. Again, this isn’t magic but likely ‘survivorship bias’ at work.

5. Environmental Volatility. This point captures whether the context in which a boundary is embedded acts to suppress, accelerate, or destabilize the structure in question. For example, a solar system operating within a galactic arm will be subject to more gravitational perturbations, stellar interactions, and boundary-interrupting events than a solitary star located in the far reaches of a galaxy, or even more isolating – emptiness of the cosmic void. Even if the internal composition of the two systems is similar, the one in the more stable environmental field will be more likely to maintain its structure over time.

This point is subtle. Many systems fail not because they are weak internally, but because their environment introduces recursive disturbances that eventually override internal coherence. Conversely, even relatively fragile systems may persist for cosmic timescales if their environment offers little in the way of interference.

[1] Although this is probably not the best phrase to use, as we’re referring to non-biological boundaries as well. Unfortunately we’re lacking another phrase.

[2] As subtle percentage changes of compositions could lead to large systemic changes