September 18, 2026
#23: The Red Queen Hypothesis
It was only a matter of time before I'd cover this topic.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Red Queen Hypothesis, the name comes from the 1973 paper published by Leigh Van Valen, in which he took inspiration from Alice and Wonderland (more specifically, Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass), "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place."

What does this mean?

In evolutionary biology, in order to survive, a species must constantly run and adapt to 'stay in the same place'. Every species on Earth has done this to stay alive, to stay in the game even if it eventually goes extinct. We often ask ourselves why human ancestors were so much more physically and mentally adept than their modern counterparts. The Red Queen Hypothesis potentially solves this question; since we live in a world that's been specifically engineered to our needs and wants, humanity's evolution has grown complacent, and one could argue that our ancestors pre-agriculture were among the toughest, most competent humans in all of history. Life became significantly easier once agriculture was introduced, and then we had cities, which introduced medical care, someone to get water, food, etc. etc. From there, civilizations evolved for us, and humanity's physical adeptness and mental capacity have arguably dropped (after all, I definitely couldn't outrun our ancestors. Could you?). While information is more widespread than it's ever been before, technology has hacked our brains.

Back to the hypothesis, the idea is that if a species reaches stasis, then it is behind, and it could mean death for the said species. It's the idea that immortality doesn't exist because evolution has no place for those who do not evolve. Since every species on the entire planet evolves simultaneously, we are constantly in a fight for resources and life against other species, and, more often than not, our own. Because there is this push for struggle and survival, the imperfection builds skill and wisdom (even among other species). Because of this constant push and pull, this rhythm that the world will continue with or without a given species, we have to consider that nothing is ever human-centric or any animal for that matter. If humanity all disappeared tomorrow, life would go on, just without us. Other animals would continue to evolve with or without our influence, and they too would have a constant push and pull for survival.

So, what's the relevance to writing?

One thing that revolutionized the way I view stories is what I call "museum" stories and "living" stories. A museum story exists in isolation and remains fixed. In this example, we're going to take this simple plotline and show the difference in execution.

"The hero must embark on a journey to slay the dragon in order to protect his kingdom from being destroyed by the dragon."

In a museum story, there's the happy-ever after. Once the hero's story concludes, there is nothing more to be done since all the conflict is resolved by the end of the book. It's nice in a museum, but as far as world-building goes, it's not what we're looking for. In fact, this type of story never happens in the real world. The hero slays the dragon and saves his kingdom, but nothing else that’s negative happens.

In a living story, slaying the dragon has consequences. Maybe because the hero slays the dragon by the end of the book, the kingdom's apex predator is no longer killing the animals beneath it on the food chain. What if those animals are cryptids, and they unleash absolute hell upon the kingdom? Because the hero had to slay the dragon to keep his kingdom alive, he also saved beings that would achieve a similar mean as the dragon in terms of threats to the kingdom; thus he cannot retire. Even if the hero dies by slaying the dragon, the world goes on, and a new hero must take up the mantle to stop the cryptids from destroying the kingdom. Maybe this hero (or new hero) can't just simply kill the cryptids like the dragon, and must instead put up defensive measures and armies to deter the cryptids since there are simply too many of them. You can't always solve a problem in the same way, and so every story is different, and every action has a consequence.

Far more interesting ending than just "happily ever after", isn't it? Maybe it's not the type of story you're looking to write and that is fine, but if you want to create a cohesive world and a way to continually have something else to write, a constant conflict where you can make interchangeable heroes, villains, and plotlines alike? I love the Red Queen Hypothesis for story writing.

Here's another example:

"The men of New Canaan found the Yūgenbana, or 'dream flower', in the meadows of the frontier. Its healing properties would revolutionize medicine forever."

A museum story might focus on the journey itself to find the legendary Yūgenbana, and once the protagonist finds it, harvests it, and brings it back to the king, they live happily ever after and only good things happen from them finding this flower.

A living story would be completely different. For starters, can you imagine if something like this happened in real life? If any country found a resource like the Yūgenbana, you can guarantee that there'd be immediate conflict over the resource in the meadow region, and it wouldn't take long for it to become a war zone. Maybe the people of New Canaan have to fight a coalition of nations to keep their supply of Yūgenbana; or maybe the leading aristocrats of the nation hastily pass new laws trying to regulate something it doesn't understand. If that is the case, even if they could successfully extract the material, maybe they plunder too much of it and it can never replenish, thus the nation is in a worse place than where it started. Or, a small group of people, the Yūgenbana barons, buy up all the resources and then resell them to the population at an immense profit. No matter what happens, in a living story, finding a brand new resource of this level of importance guarantees conflict, and after the conflict concludes, the aftermath of it creating new types of conflict unforeseen.

One last example:

"Lord Chaddicus picked up the Chromadite, the blade of a chrome-like finish that is unbreakable and can cut through anything. It's the only thing that can stop the Dark Lord Kenneth now."

In a museum story, this is the only plot used. Chaddicus will have to confront Lord Kenneth with the ultimate blade, and even after a climactic battle, Chaddicus liberates the land, and everyone lives happily ever after. (I think we're noticing a trend?)

In a living story, there's a 0% chance that the Dark Lord Kenneth wouldn't know about Chaddicus's newfound edge. As a smart dark lord, do you want to know what he's going to do? The answer isn't waiting for Chaddicus to become strong enough to defeat him. Lord Kenneth will not play nice; he's going to subdue and eliminate Chaddicus using any means possible. Sure, a physical confrontation with Chaddicus might be impossible to win, but as a dark lord of... dark magic? (We're being so original today!) He can use his magic to his advantage and perhaps learn metaphysical magic to challenge Chaddicus, which would force Chaddicus to adapt to Kenneth's new powers, etc. You get the idea; both sides will have to evolve, because stasis = death. Especially in a story.

So, the next time you wonder why a lot of stories get unnecessary sequels after the original, great movie tied everything up nicely, this is actually why this happens. Sequels are often unnecessary and recycle old ideas just to be more appealing to the audience and sell more, even if the original creator didn't want that to happen. Because a wider story and a living world imply that anything can happen at any point and everything will have to evolve with it, it's far more powerful storytelling for larger worlds with more complex dynamics. It's why we don't spend years world-building and then taking those years, putting them into one 130,000-word story, and then ending it with "they lived happily ever after". 

The story is breathing; it's alive; there are purposes for sequels AND prequels! Why did the world become the way it is? Why is it so different from 25 years ago as opposed to now? When everything evolves, are we being left behind if we refuse to conform? Or, are we challenging what already exists and evolving individually more than collectively?

I hope you enjoyed this topic. Writing this was a lot of fun, and it sparked storytelling inspiration in me. I fully intend to tell stories this way (and have for a long time).

Stay cool everyone,

Dustin