“Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them.” — Matthew 13:12

Early in my career, before I knew it had been popularised as The Matthew Effect, I noticed this phenomenon. I captured it in an article as “it’s much easier to get ‘another success’ once you get the first one.”

The observation was simple but profound. I noted in the post that after getting my first visible win at work, subsequent opportunities started showing up with less effort. Doors that were previously closed suddenly opened. People who didn’t know I existed began reaching out. It felt almost magical, and yet it followed a well-documented pattern.

Later, I discovered this has been a well-researched topic. A seminal one, in fact, by Robert K. Merton in his 1968 paper titled “The Matthew Effect in Science.”

Here’s what Merton observed

Merton was studying Nobel Prize winners with his student Harriet Zuckerman when he noticed something that troubled even the laureates themselves. These accomplished scientists kept mentioning how they received disproportionate credit for collaborative work, even when their contributions were equal to or less than their lesser-known colleagues. The Nobel considered it unsettling.

He then looked at the data systematically. Papers by eminent scientists received more citations than nearly identical work by unknown scientists. Junior collaborators on important discoveries often faded into obscurity while senior authors’ careers accelerated. Scientists at prestigious institutions had their work taken seriously by default, while those at unknown institutions had to prove their work mattered.

The pattern was unmistakable. Initial recognition didn’t just feel good, it translated into tangible, compounding resources. And those resources made future success significantly easier to achieve – just as I have observed. 

Here are a few examples of how that has played out

Material resources compounding: Early career recognition leads to better positions, which means superior laboratory facilities, larger research budgets, and access to cutting-edge equipment. A scientist with these resources can simply produce better work, faster. Their advantage isn’t necessarily talent alone, it’s infrastructure. Over time, this infrastructure gap widens. The recognised scientist publishes more, which brings more funding, which enables even better work. Meanwhile, their equally talented peer struggles with outdated equipment and limited budgets.

Time allocation advantage: Recognised scientists get teaching relief, administrative protection, and easier grant approval. They spend 60-70% of their time on research while equally talented peers spend 60-70% on survival tasks like teaching overloads, grant-writing, and committee work. Over a decade, this time differential alone creates massive output gaps. Although a scientist may not be smarter, the luxury of focus allows them to compound effort faster – a luxury that came from that initial advantage.

Collaboration quality: Success attracts the best graduate students, postdocs, and co-authors. You’re working with superior intellectual partners, which elevates your output quality. The best students want to work with recognised advisors because they know it improves their own prospects. Meanwhile, struggling colleagues work with whoever is available, creating a talent gap that widens over time. Your collaborators’ quality becomes part of your competitive advantage.

Information access: Being in the recognised network means hearing about opportunities, problems, and breakthroughs before they’re public. You’re invited to closed workshops, review panels, and early manuscript exchanges. This informational advantage lets you position your work more strategically than competitors working in isolation. You know which problems are being solved elsewhere, which funding opportunities are coming, and which collaborations would be most valuable.

Credibility infrastructure: Perhaps most powerfully, early publications in top venues create an assumption of competence. Your subsequent work is evaluated with a presumption of quality. Reviewers look for why it’s good. Unknown researchers face the opposite. Reviewers look for reasons to reject. Same quality work, radically different reception.

Here’s what Merton concluded

Merton concluded that science, supposedly the purest meritocracy, actually operates through cumulative advantage mechanisms that can amplify initial positioning as much as raw talent. Small initial differences in recognition create exponentially larger gaps over time, not because talent diverges, but because resources and opportunities compound.

Critically, he noted this isn’t necessarily due to conscious bias or politics rather, it’s structural, systemic. The system allocates resources based on demonstrated success, which makes future success easier to achieve (I want you to always remember this). The winners aren’t cheating. They’re benefiting from how recognition converts into capability.

The Matthew Effect is not about popularity

When I first started thinking about this pattern, I worried it was just about being popular or being good at politics. But that’s a misunderstanding that makes the observation seem dismissible.

The Matthew Effect should not be mistaken as or constrained to popularity. Rather, it exposes the concept of compounding advantages. A 10% advantage early on might become a 300% advantage over 10 years. Wait for 5 years before you get that initial 10% advantage and you’ve lost not just those 5 years, but the compounding that would have occurred during them.

This is why early wins matter enormously in careers. Understand that advantages compound, and therefore early advantages have outsized long-term effects.

Think about it this way:

If you’re equally talented as your peer but they get recognised two years earlier, they don’t only have a two-year head start.

They also have access to better resources for two years, which produces better work, which attracts better collaborators (Directors, Managers, Partners etc), which produces even better work.

By the time you get your first win two years later, the gap is potentially five or ten years of compounded advantage.

Now your career

Understanding the Matthew Effect changes how you should think about your career. Instead of just working hard and hoping for the best, you can be strategic about seeking and leveraging early wins.

I want you to think about this in your career and constantly ask yourself: What can I get successful at that would make the next success possible for me?

What can I get successful at that would make the next success possible for me?

Not what’s most prestigious. Not what pays the most right now. But what success would create the most leverage for future successes?

Maybe it’s publishing in a particular venue that will get you noticed by the right people. Maybe it’s working on a project that will teach you skills others don’t have. Maybe it’s taking a role that puts you in proximity to people whose credibility will rub off on you.

Now the focus of the question isn’t just to achieve some success. You want to focus on achieving a success that compounds. Because once you understand the Matthew Effect, you realise that the first success isn’t the goal. It’s the foundation for everything that follows.

And don’t be afraid or cowardly about using this early wins as a leverage for more wins.

This is the game. Not everyone plays it consciously. But those who do have a significant advantage over those who don’t.