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The Circles That Make You Bigger: Why who you spend time with sets your trajectory

The Circles That Make You Bigger: Why who you spend time with sets your trajectory
Photo by Grooveland Designs / Unsplash

This post is an early version of a thought/anecdote that eventually made its way into my book, Sovereign.
Grab a copy here.
I came across this optical illusion featuring two orange circles. They're identical in size, but appear dramatically different. One seems large, the other small. The difference is in what surrounds them.
These two orange balls are the same size
The first orange circle sits among large grey circles. By comparison, it looks tiny. The second sits among small grey circles, making it appear enormous. Same circle, different context, completely different perception.
This is how easily context can shape reality.
There's a famous photograph from the 1927 Solvay Conference that perfectly illustrates this:
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The photograph shows 29 physicists and chemists, many of whom would later become household names. Einstein. Curie. Heisenberg. Schrödinger. Planck. Of the 29 people in that room, 17 would go on to win Nobel Prizes. But, crucially, they didn't have them at the time this picture was taken.
This lays bare the concept of 'scenius' coined by Brian Eno. Scenius is emergent, collective intelligence – the energy in the air when like minds gather, which can amplify individual talent through exchanged ideas and incremental development.
In the case of the 1927 Solvay Conference, you didn't win the Nobel Prize because you happened to be in that room. You were in that room because you were the kind of person who wins Nobel Prizes. Being surrounded by other future Nobel laureates undoubtedly reinforced that identity. The room was full of people thinking at the highest level, treating groundbreaking discoveries as normal Tuesday conversations.
Imagine being Marie Curie in that room—the only woman among giants of science. Her peers. Her context made her achievements seem almost routine, which likely made her next breakthrough feel not just possible, but inevitable.
This is the power of high-expectation environments. Not the false encouragement of participation trophies, but the quiet assumption that excellence is a standard operating procedure.
There's a group of old colleagues who came to be known as the Paypal Mafia. The early employees at Paypal went on to fund, found, or lead Facebook, Tesla, SpaceX, LinkedIn, YouTube, Yelp, and countless other companies. They didn't become successful entrepreneurs solely by working at PayPal. But working alongside other ambitious, capable people normalised the idea of starting world-changing companies. There was something in the water.
The pattern repeats throughout history. In Renaissance Florence, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Botticelli were contemporaries. They pushed each other to new heights not through competition alone, but by making extraordinary work feel ordinary within their circle.
Circles become ceilings
The reverse is equally true. Surround yourself with people who treat mediocrity as acceptable, and mediocrity becomes your ceiling. Spend time in environments where small thinking is the norm, and your own ambitions unconsciously contract to fit.
Your context isn't a neutral, passive thing – it's an active force in your life. The circles around you are constantly sending signals about what's normal, what's possible, what's expected.
Which circles are you choosing?
Are you the smartest person in your peer group? The most ambitious in your social circle? The most successful in your professional network? If so, you might be surrounded by small grey circles that make you feel bigger than you are while limiting how much you actually grow.
Aim to be in rooms where the conversation assumes a level of capability you're still reaching toward.
Read publications that stretch your thinking. Attend conferences where you're among the least experienced in each room. Follow thinkers whose ideas challenge your assumptions.
Then you'll see the true illusion in action – because by virtue of being in the room, everyone will think the same of you. They'll see the successes you diminish, and the skills you ignore. They'll be just as eager to learn from you as you are from them.
The discomfort of feeling like the smallest circle is the price of growth. It's the psychological tax you pay to expand your sense of what's possible.
What the optical illusion teaches us is that size isn't absolute. Potential isn't fixed. Your sense of what you can achieve is largely determined by what surrounds you.
Choosing your circle is choosing your perceived ceiling.

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