Oops! I did it again. (I broke something else.)

I have an embroidered Velcro patch on my phone holster. (I’m not sure there has ever been a better lead-in sentence that illustrates my nerdiness, but let’s see if I can pile on.) The embroidery reads, “I’m here to break sh*t,” along with the logo for my team at work. I originally had it made for the annual DEF CON conference, where that phrase is a widely used summary of the ethos. I used to wear it only during the conference, but over the past year, I never rotated out of my DEF CON bag. Carrying it around has sparked some interesting discussions.

On Christmas Day, I broke a jump rope. I initially thought the event would make for a great rehash of a previous post extolling my love of the “Cordless Jump Rope and the Yao Yao App.” It’s the first time I have had a rope physically break, though I have worn some out. I was planning on layering in some detail about how when I jump using a full rope, I prefer the weight and feel of a steel cable, but for safety’s sake, it has to be encased in a plastic coating. When that wears thin, and the cable starts to fray, missing becomes downright dangerous. Ultimately, I decided that wasn’t really what I wanted to write about today.

I wish I could claim that the broken jump rope, just like the equipment that failed earlier this month in “Oh Snap! When Superbands Break,” is a testament to the intensity of my current off-season training block. Unfortunately, I don’t think that is the case. Life and work obligations intervened and disappointed me somewhat in my tennis-specific efforts. That leaves me with the inescapable conclusion that I am an aging player with aging equipment, and things will inevitably break down. That’s not exactly what I want to write about, either.

I don’t see breaking things as an abject failure but rather as a spark for disruptive innovation. When something breaks, it forces us to confront limitations and ask questions we might not otherwise consider. It’s in the act of breaking that we create space for something better to emerge. Disruption, by its very nature, is uncomfortable and messy, but it’s sometimes essential for progress. That mindset can be leveraged to drive meaningful change.

It’s one thing when things break on their own. A worn-out superband or a frayed jump rope is a predictable casualty of time and use. While inconvenient, it’s rarely shocking. On the other hand, it takes a brave leap of faith to intentionally break something that is working “well enough” in pursuit of something better. There’s an inherent risk in taking apart things that appear functional. What if the disruption doesn’t lead to improvement? That fear is valid, but it’s also why deliberate, intentional breaking is such a powerful act. It requires courage, foresight, and the willingness to step into the unknown.

Even more unsettling, though, is when changes are made blithely without anticipating or understanding the potential consequences. When disruption happens unintentionally, it can feel chaotic and reckless. That kind of unintended breaking often reveals just how interconnected and fragile things can be. It’s a stark reminder that disruption, while valuable, carries a responsibility.

While “I’m here to break sh*t” is an essential part of my day job, that can never be done recklessly. We take steps to anticipate, understand, and mitigate risks to the greatest extent possible. At the same time, we would never be successful if decision-makers always refused to take any risks. Disruptive innovation requires taking reasonable chances. It is always a trade-off between the projected benefits and potential downsides.

Ultimately, breaking things—accidentally or intentionally —is a balancing act. It requires a willingness to embrace risk while respecting the complexity of what’s being changed. True innovation isn’t about breaking for the sake of breaking; it’s about breaking with purpose. It’s having the courage to challenge the status quo, the foresight to understand potential impacts, and the humility to acknowledge that things might not go as planned. Breaking things isn’t the end but possibly the glorious beginning of something even better.

However, in this case, I just purchased a replacement cordless jump rope.