"The goal isn't to make the right decision every time. It's to become the kind of person who can recover from the wrong decision every time.”
This is advice a mentor once told me that I still live by today.
I’m convinced that a huge percentage of modern anxiety comes from consuming too many perspectives. Every day people absorb 100s of opinions, lifestyles, goals, and worldviews, then wonder why they feel mentally fragmented. Too many voices create internal noise.
The person who finds the work intrinsically interesting will always outlast the person who's just chasing the outcome. They do more reps. They stay longer. They do the boring fundamentals without being asked because it’s not a sacrifice for them. They’re just playing the game. Fun is a compounding asset people completely overlook when they're building a career. If you're trying to figure out where to focus your energy, stop asking what pays the most and start asking what you'd actually do more of without being told to.
Most people save their best effort for when it matters. The highest performers I know can't really tell the difference between when it matters and when it doesn't. They just bring the same standard regardless.
You will help more people by trying to make money than you will by staying broke.
When you insist on “impact” you only virtue signal because learning the game is harder than saying you’re “choosing to make less to help people”.
You’re not helping more people. You’re just less skilled with an ego that prevents you from admitting it.
Skills are the new job security. Assets are the new retirement plans. The sooner you internalize this, the sooner you stop depending on systems that were never designed to make you wealthy.
This Forbes cover is from November 2007.
The same year a Nokia engineer showed management a working touchscreen phone prototype.
Their response: "That's not how phones work."
By 2013, their phone division was sold to Microsoft for a fraction of what it was worth.
Nokia lost because its leadership couldn't separate who they were from what they'd built. Accepting the strategy was wrong meant admitting they were wrong. So they waited. And the door closed.
People don't fear failure.
They fear losing what they've already built. Their title, their reputation, their identity.
And that fear is what destroys them.
Netflix did the opposite.
In 2011, they split their DVD and streaming businesses and raised prices. Stock dropped 77%. Subscribers revolted. The press called it a disaster.
But they didn't spend energy protecting their identity as a mail-order DVD company.
They chose to build a new one.
Which is why all of us have a Netflix account today.
When you're holding on to something you're not sure about, ask yourself: "If I didn't already own this, build this, or identify with this, would I choose it today?”
I call it the zero-based question.
It strips away the emotional attachment to how you got something and forces you to evaluate it logically.
I used this with a client at Goldman Sachs who was selling his company to Google for $100 million in stock. Generational wealth for his family.
Google stock was volatile at the time. I suggested some protections in case the price dropped. He refused. He was too bullish to hedge.
So I asked him: "If you received $100 million in cash today, would you put all of it into Google stock?"
He paused.
The answer was no.
That pause is where the zero-based question does its work. It breaks the sunk cost logic and forces you to evaluate forward.
You may need to ask it more than once. Every time you're holding on to something you're not sure about, a strategy, an investment, a role, an identity, run the zero-based question.
The doors of opportunity don't stay open forever.
And the most dangerous thing you can protect is who you used to be.