Are you familiar with the sunk cost dilemma?
Here I go boring you again, but hear me out. It’s a theory in business in regards to investments, one I wouldn’t expect you to know unless you’re kind of a geek like me.
It’s what they call the conundrum where you’ve put a lot of time, expense and resources into an investment, an idea, something you’re counting on making successful and getting returns on, but it isn’t performing how you thought it would.
Let’s say you have a business and you make croissants. You have the brilliant idea that people who like croissants probably also like coffee with them, so you invest money into now offering coffee to your customers as well.
Well, there’s expense that goes into that. You have to get the materials, the equipment, the physical space, the staff to make and sell the coffee, the training, and let’s not eventouchthe marketing costs, generating brand awareness, all the general principles of supply and demand.
Maybe you ran some calculations before deciding to start selling coffee and you thought by six months in, your coffee would be profitable, doubling your revenue per customer.
But now it’s six months later, and you’re only making an average of an extra few cents per customer. Nowhere near what you expected, and you areagesaway from recouping the money you’ve put into this endeavor.
Do you cut your losses? Or do you keep pouring money into the marketing, or improving the quality of the coffee, or some other aspect, knowing that in just another six months, you might be able to get all your investment money back and then the profit will start rolling in?
What if the new venture is just losing money left and right?
Seems like an obvious choice there, but what if there’shugepotential profits to be made if you can stick it out just alittlelonger?
The larger the carrot, the larger the temptation to stick with it long past when you should’ve given up on it.
It’s an emotional mindfuck, to be blunt.
A lot of times, a third party has to come in, analyze the numbers and advise on what to do in that scenario, because those that are involved tend to be emotional about everything they’ve put into it so far. They had a vision, and it’s common for that person to want to hold out to see that vision come to life.
But if it bleeds you out before you ever get there, you could lose it all. The coffeeandthe croissants. And now you have nothing.
You can see the parallel of this dilemma in regards to my relationship.
I do worry that I’m losing some parts of myself the more I pour into it, though we certainly aren’t bleeding out, thankfully. Our relationship is…fine. Would I say I’ve gotten the returns I was hoping for out of it? If I’m being honest with myself, no. There’s a lot that’s right between us, but if I’m being harsh, and I think now might be the time to be, if I put it in business terms, I’d say we’re just barely breaking even on this investment.
We have a nice life together, a beautiful condo; there’s certainly nothing to complain about in the material sense. Our life together makes sense on paper. But am I getting the soul-deep love that I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl? Where I feel cherished, adored,wantedby the person who I’m convinced was made by some higher power just for me? Someone who I love and support with all of my heart? Who I’m proud of in every endeavor, whose back I have at any cost? Who takes care of me, and me of them?
I’m not sure that’s what we are for one another.
And you know what? That’s a euphemism, a nice white lie I’ve been telling myself.
In the name of brutal honesty, Iknowwe aren’t those things for each other. If we were, I probably wouldn’t have turned down his marriage proposal. I wouldn’t feel that some of these parts ofmeare so unwanted, like I have lately. We’d have gotten married ages ago, and probably have at least one kid by now.
But this is where I get stuck on what to do in this situation.
If this were a segment of my company, would I continue to pour resources into the venture? Would I keep going, hoping that things are going to get better, when the evidence, the statistics, the bare facts point to this division having already peaked, and having been plateaued for years now?
No. I wouldn’t. I would discuss it with the other relevant leaders within the company and make the hard call. I’d shut down the division, stem the bleeding, cauterize that wound and put those funds into another area that is bringing in better returns. It’s just business. Nothing personal.
Except there’snothingin my life that’s more personal to me than my partner, my romantic interests, my hopes for the rest of my life with that person.
And how am I just supposed toshut downeverything I’ve gone home to each night, counted on for my future, considered a done deal, ever since Facebook was the coolest thing in the App Store?
It’s not that easy to make the hard call when hearts are involved. And speaking of what my heart wants, are my hopes even realistic? Is my dream of a passionate, healthy, mutual obsession with another person something you can have as an expectation for real life? It sounds almost childishly naive when I list it out like that. Either that, or straight toxic, like something out of one of those mafia books Chrissy finally got me into.
My chest heaves with a huge sigh and a triple-knock on my door frame pulls my attention back to planet Earth, where my dad is standing in the doorway of my office. It’s nearly dark outside, and a quick glance at the time in the corner of my iMac tells me it’s almost eight PM. We’re the last ones here, as usual.
“You doing okay in here, Ellie bee?” The moniker tells me he’s in dad mode, not boss mode now that it’s just us.
“Of course.” I paint a smile on my face, the one I wear throughout the office to appear friendly and non-threatening to the employees, regardless of whatever stress is present in my head. He can see through it. He might be the only one in the state of Florida who can, aside from Chrissy.
“That’s just about the seventh sigh I’ve heard you make in the last few minutes I was standing here.”
