Another literary allusion - this one from vintage mysteries. Dashiell Hammett's Continental Op (often cited as the original prototype for the hard-boiled detective) was ruthless in getting to the bottom of things. Whenever he couldn't solve a problem or resolve a situation he would simply "shake things up" to see what happened. He'd lie, manipulate, etc., to induce stress among the parties of interest and then sit back to see who did what in response.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Continental_Op
More generally stated ... The Continental Op deliberately injected chaos into the system / scenario to force a sort of stress test hoped to result in a breakdown leading to a breakthrough.
Chaos can be construed as an instrument of uncertainty akin to, but a bit less open-ended and a lot less pleasant than, ultimate "randomness" (in the formal sense). The Op's tactic of proactively shaking things up for a reason isn't the same as passively casting one's lot with any of innumerable options just to browse possibilities. His approach is more along the lines of invoking "randomness" with malice aforethought.
Here's a hopefully illustrative example ...
In high school I was one of the founding members of the new chess club. I was a casual / gonzo player who simply liked playing the game. Serious study of the game took all the fun out of it, so I never tried to become an expert. An older nerd / geek friend (Don) and I were among the early favorites to win the club's inaugural tournament. Don was serious about his chess. He'd delved into the game's formal intricacies (knew all the classic gambits by name, etc., etc.). On a more personal level, Don was a relatively highly-strung and twitchy guy who was easily agitated.
Don and I met in one of the semi-final matches, and all the others gathered round to watch. Don quickly gained the upper hand via name-brand gambits, and he was so obviously closing in for the kill he was getting twitchy with confidence rather than the usual fretfulness.
I knew the game was lost as I considered my nth move with no attractive options. In effect, and out of desperation, I channeled the Op.
Don was actively discussing my (not his) possible options and their inevitable futility out loud as I studied the board. After giving him enough time to explain how screwed I was, I made my move ...
I castled (swapped king and rook in my rearmost rank). It was a completely useless and unexpected move.
Don started to make his pretty obvious next move, then grimaced in confusion and sat back. He repeatedly examined the board, looked at me, and shook his head. In a matter of only a couple of minutes he was twitching uncomfortably, muttering about WTF I thought I was doing, and breaking out in a sweat. The twitching got worse and worse until he gave up trying to figure out what I was doing and made a conservative move as if he were the doomed one on the defensive.
His confusion over that one cryptic move and what it might mean continued to grow until he fell apart. Meanwhile, I slowly undermined and negated his advantage on the way to finally getting the checkmate and the match.
Don immediately made a scene of it. He interrogated me about the pivotal castling maneuver, demanding to know what arcane variation of a canonical gambit I'd used to blind-side him. He wouldn't / couldn't accept the truth - I'd quit strategizing on the chessboard and switched to attacking his psychological equipoise. It would take another year or so and multiple such interrogations before he'd admit I'd played him and it had worked.