Archimedes once claimed, “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I can move the world.” It sounds like the kind of poetic exaggeration ancient thinkers loved, but it was not poetry. It was physics. Archimedes understood that power is not always about strength. Sometimes it is about placement. The right pressure in the right spot can move something much larger than yourself. What he understood about the physical world applies equally to the social one. Small, deliberate actions can create big shifts if we know where and how to use them.

The same is true in everyday life. Most of us will never lead a corporation, write laws, or direct massive organizations. We live regular lives filled with families, work, neighbors, and small communities. Yet these smaller worlds are systems too, full of forces and patterns that can be moved with surprisingly gentle pressure. The lever is our attention, our habits, and our willingness to act. The fulcrum is the moment or relationship where our effort can have the greatest impact. Archimedes may have worked with stones and pulleys, but his wisdom belongs to anyone trying to make their corner of the world a little better.

Many people imagine that change requires control, but life rarely works that way. We cannot control coworkers, relatives, or community institutions. We cannot force a friend to grow or an organization to behave ethically. What we can do is learn how influence works. Change, in most cases, grows organically. It starts with noticing where energy already exists and applying small nudges in the right direction. Real transformation, whether personal or social, is usually the result of consistent influence rather than dramatic control.

Learning to See Systems in Daily Life

Everyday life is full of systems, but we rarely notice them. A workplace is a system of people, routines, and unspoken rules. A neighborhood is a system of relationships and shared spaces. Even a family functions as a system, constantly adjusting to balance the needs of its members. When something feels stuck, our instinct is to push harder, to argue louder, or to try to take charge. Archimedes would remind us that pushing harder is not the same as pushing smarter. The key is to find the point of leverage.

Systems thinking is simply the habit of asking, “Where does a small action have a big effect?” Sometimes it is as simple as changing a pattern in conversation. Listening deeply to a frustrated coworker might shift the whole tone of a meeting. Offering encouragement to a young person at the right moment might change their sense of what is possible. Choosing patience instead of anger might defuse a conflict before it grows. None of these actions are grand gestures. They are small movements of the lever.

This kind of awareness takes practice. It requires stepping back long enough to see the whole picture instead of reacting to the part that frustrates us most. It asks us to notice relationships, not just results. The parent who notices how a child responds to praise versus criticism is using systems thinking. The neighbor who builds trust before asking for cooperation is doing the same. The person who changes a routine that drains them instead of blaming others for their exhaustion has found a small but powerful lever.

Small Nudges and Big Ripples

Archimedes’ lever reminds us that scale is deceptive. The modern world celebrates big gestures and quick victories, the loud and fantastic! We praise people who make headlines and often overlook those who create quiet, steady improvement. Yet most progress in the world happens through ordinary people making ordinary adjustments that add up over time. One teacher who stays late to help a struggling student changes a family’s trajectory. One conversation between neighbors can ease tensions that might otherwise fester.

Small actions work because they build momentum. One small kindness can inspire another. One act of courage can remind others that they can speak too. Over time, the ripples combine into currents strong enough to reshape culture. None of these effects are predictable or linear. Influence multiplies in ways that control never can. We cannot command other people’s hearts, but we can invite them. We can model what we hope to see. The lever works best when we use it with patience.

This perspective helps when life feels overwhelming. Problems such as climate change, inequality, or community division can seem too large for one person to touch. Yet every large system is made of smaller ones. When we take responsibility for our immediate circles, we contribute to a chain of influence that grows outward. The smallest push, when well placed, travels farther than we think. Archimedes might say that the trick is not to lift the whole world yourself but to know where to put your hand.

Influence Instead of Control

In a culture that prizes control, it can feel uncomfortable to admit that we do not have it. We want predictable outcomes and measurable results. But the truth is that human systems are unpredictable. Children, friends, and colleagues do not respond to commands as machines do. They respond to care, consistency, and example. The art of influence begins with recognizing that people change in relationship, not in isolation.

Influence does not mean manipulation. It means using empathy and understanding to create conditions where growth can happen. A friend cannot force another to heal, but they can listen in ways that make healing easier. A manager cannot command creativity, but they can build trust that allows ideas to surface. A community member cannot single-handedly end injustice, but they can participate in local actions that collectively push institutions toward fairness.

Influence works best when it is shared. It grows through networks of people who inspire one another. Each person becomes both lever and fulcrum for someone else. The result is not domination but cooperation. When we shift from controlling outcomes to nurturing influence, we become better at helping things move naturally. Life becomes less about winning and more about aligning.

Leading Together Without Titles

When we talk about leadership, we often imagine a person with authority, but leadership in its simplest form is initiative joined with empathy. It is the act of moving something forward in a way that includes others. A parent teaching resilience, a neighbor organizing a park cleanup, or a student mentoring a peer are all forms of leadership. They are acts of leverage that expand what a group is capable of doing.

The more people think together, the more they can act with intention. A community that shares ideas and listens deeply builds collective intelligence. People who coordinate their small nudges create exponential results. Systems thinking reminds us that complexity can be managed through connection. The more empathy and awareness a group has, the more capable it becomes of acting together. Each person’s influence multiplies when linked to others who share the same goal.

This is not just about collaboration; it is about trust. When people trust one another, they stop wasting energy on protection and redirect it toward creation. That shared focus becomes the fulcrum, the lever, for transformation. A group that learns to think and act together, even in small ways, can accomplish what no single individual could. The result is not power over others but power with others, the kind of leverage Archimedes would have admired.

Moving the World, One Moment at a Time

Archimedes’ famous claim was about physics, but it was also about belief. He trusted that the world could move if you understood how to move it. The same is true for us. Every challenge, whether is be personal, relational, or social— has a point of leverage. The secret is not brute force but awareness, timing, and persistence. When you pay attention to where your energy matters most, small actions begin to add up.

This truth is both humbling and hopeful. It reminds us that we do not need to wait for perfect circumstances to make a difference. The conversation we start today, the kindness we show, the pattern we interrupt, these are all movements of the lever. They do not require authority or wealth. They require intention and care. Change, in its truest form, is an accumulation of ordinary people making small, intentional moves that align over time.

Archimedes saw the world as something movable. We should too. The lever is not a tool of the powerful; it is a principle of life. The fulcrum is wherever our actions meet opportunity. The weight we move is whatever needs shifting, whether it is a habit, a friendship, or a community challenge. When we use attention as our lever and empathy as our fulcrum, all of us can move something larger. The world does not move all at once, but it moves when enough of us lean together, gently and persistently, on the right point.

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Julian Vasquez Heilig is a nationally recognized policy scholar, public intellectual, and civil rights advocate. A trusted voice in public policy, he has testified for state legislatures, the U.S. Congress, the United Nations, and the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, while also advising presidential and gubernatorial campaigns. His work has been cited by major outlets including The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Los Angeles Times, and he has appeared on networks from MSNBC and PBS to NPR and DemocracyNow!. He is a recipient of more than 30 honors, including the 2025 NAACP Keeper of the Flame Award, Vasquez Heilig brings both scholarly rigor and grassroots commitment to the fight for equity and justice.