All life is seeking something.

And no matter how far you zoom in or out – cell or society, forest or family, instinct or institution – it’s always the same three things: security, propagation, and control. Strip away the complexity, and what’s left is this unshakable tripod that holds up everything from survival to civilization. These aren’t just animal impulses or evolutionary leftovers. They are the fundamental logic behind why people do what they do, why institutions behave the way they behave, and why history keeps repeating itself with new characters and the same plot.

Security is the starting point. If you’re not safe, nothing else matters. Every creature, every system, every structure first needs to protect itself before it can do anything else. Safety may mean shelter, money, laws, identity, routine, belief, certainty – anything that keeps the chaos out. It explains why people settle, why countries build borders, why companies hoard capital, and why we cling to things long after they’ve stopped serving us. It’s not just fear of danger. It’s the pursuit of predictability. Because if life is unpredictable, then nothing else can be planned.

And we hate not being able to plan.

Then comes propagation. Nothing wants to disappear. This is biology, yes, but it’s also legacy. It’s why people have children, why ideas go viral, why empires expand, why artists make art, and why entrepreneurs start companies. Propagation is the need to multiply, to replicate, to leave a mark. It’s the quiet driver behind movements and memes, behind religion and research, behind the everyday impulse to teach, post, share, or mentor. We don’t just want to live. We want something of us to outlive us. And that something could be DNA or a philosophy or a brand or a book – but whatever form it takes, it’s always a reach into the future.

And then there’s control. The quiet obsession no one wants to admit. Not power for its own sake, but power over uncertainty. Over variables. Over outcomes. Every living system wants the ability to influence what happens next – to make decisions, to allocate resources, to shape its own conditions. Control explains not just why people rise to lead but also why they micromanage, why institutions resist change, why humans invent systems and hierarchies and rituals that stabilize the world around them. It’s not always ego. Sometimes it’s just insurance.

When you look through this lens, the choices people make start making more sense. We marry for emotional security. We network to propagate influence. We compete for control over scarce resources. Even our contradictions are easier to understand. We crave stability but chase change. We want connection but fear vulnerability. We value freedom until it threatens our sense of control. And this constant dance between seeking safety, multiplying what we love, and managing the risks around us – this is the loop.

This is the operating system.

This triad explains not just individuals, but entire cultures. Some societies are rooted in security, building structures that favor tradition, order, and collective norms. Others are centered around propagation – growth, expansion, innovation, ambition. And then there are those where control is the defining ethos – where systems, bureaucracy, or leadership monopolize decision-making under the banner of efficiency or progress. None of them are inherently wrong. But each comes with its own distortions when left unchecked.

Even morality, in many ways, maps onto these drivers. Protecting the vulnerable is about securing others. Raising children well is about ethical propagation. And governing justly is about responsible control. But when any one of these instincts gets amplified out of proportion, things break. Security becomes paranoia. Propagation becomes colonialism. Control becomes oppression. All of them are necessary. None of them are safe in isolation.

This isn’t a theoretical musing. It has practical implications. If you’re leading people, you have to understand what they’re actually seeking. Are they afraid of losing something? Are they trying to build something that lasts? Or are they fighting for a say in how the game is played? You can’t lead effectively unless you know which one of the three is driving the room. And most rooms aren’t honest about it.

In strategy, too, this lens can be clarifying. Whether you’re designing a program, writing a policy, or building a product – ask yourself what it’s really helping someone do. Is it helping them feel more secure? Is it helping them spread, scale, or share something? Or is it giving them control over something they didn’t have before? You’d be surprised how often we forget to ask.

What makes this framework powerful is also what makes it humbling. No matter how sophisticated we think we are, we are still just trying to do what every other living system is trying to do. Survive. Replicate. Influence. Our methods may be different, our stories more nuanced, but the engine is the same.

And so, every time I find myself puzzled by a decision – my own or someone else’s – I come back to this. Is this about security? Is this about propagation? Or is this about control? Usually, it’s all three, in different combinations, in different disguises. And the moment I name them, the fog lifts. Patterns emerge. And suddenly, what looked like chaos starts to make sense.

Because all life wants something. But usually, it just wants one of three things.