Stephen Dubner

A sunk cost is a time or money or effort you've already spent. The fallacy is the belief that since you've already spent all those resources, you would be foolish to quit. But in reality, this is what economists argue, at least, those sunk costs are a distraction. And if what you're doing isn't likely to work out, you should stop throwing good money and time and effort after bad.

Now, that makes sense too, doesn't it? But it does leave you with a dilemma. If you are in the middle of a project or a career, a relationship or a journey, and it's not going so well, how do you know whether the answer is grit or quit? What a great question. I don't think there's an easy answer to that.

Now, that makes sense too, doesn't it? But it does leave you with a dilemma. If you are in the middle of a project or a career, a relationship or a journey, and it's not going so well, how do you know whether the answer is grit or quit? What a great question. I don't think there's an easy answer to that.

Now, that makes sense too, doesn't it? But it does leave you with a dilemma. If you are in the middle of a project or a career, a relationship or a journey, and it's not going so well, how do you know whether the answer is grit or quit? What a great question. I don't think there's an easy answer to that.

Amy Edmondson and Gary Klein have both built their research careers around the study of failure.

Amy Edmondson and Gary Klein have both built their research careers around the study of failure.

Amy Edmondson and Gary Klein have both built their research careers around the study of failure.

The thing about quitting is that it is usually seen as an admission of failure. And so we are solemnly counseled to never quit. Consider Winston Churchill.

The thing about quitting is that it is usually seen as an admission of failure. And so we are solemnly counseled to never quit. Consider Winston Churchill.

The thing about quitting is that it is usually seen as an admission of failure. And so we are solemnly counseled to never quit. Consider Winston Churchill.

You'll run into that Churchill quote in a lot of the literature around grit. But context matters. Churchill gave that speech at his old school in October of 1941, when Britain was almost single-handedly trying to hold off Nazi Germany in World War II. The threat his country faced was literally existential. So you can see why quitting wasn't an attractive option.

You'll run into that Churchill quote in a lot of the literature around grit. But context matters. Churchill gave that speech at his old school in October of 1941, when Britain was almost single-handedly trying to hold off Nazi Germany in World War II. The threat his country faced was literally existential. So you can see why quitting wasn't an attractive option.

You'll run into that Churchill quote in a lot of the literature around grit. But context matters. Churchill gave that speech at his old school in October of 1941, when Britain was almost single-handedly trying to hold off Nazi Germany in World War II. The threat his country faced was literally existential. So you can see why quitting wasn't an attractive option.

But for the rest of us, in most situations where we're thinking about grit versus quit, the decision isn't nearly as obvious. As we've been discussing in this series, we humans are almost pathologically afraid of failure. What we like are stories of success and of perseverance.

But for the rest of us, in most situations where we're thinking about grit versus quit, the decision isn't nearly as obvious. As we've been discussing in this series, we humans are almost pathologically afraid of failure. What we like are stories of success and of perseverance.

But for the rest of us, in most situations where we're thinking about grit versus quit, the decision isn't nearly as obvious. As we've been discussing in this series, we humans are almost pathologically afraid of failure. What we like are stories of success and of perseverance.

So the best possible story is the one where our hero encounters many struggles, but shows grit, refuses to quit, and ultimately wins the battle. Those are the stories we hear in fairy tales, in lectures, in books. But shouldn't we spend some time hearing the failure stories too? Can't they be as instructive as the success stories? This is an idea I've been kicking around for a long time.

So the best possible story is the one where our hero encounters many struggles, but shows grit, refuses to quit, and ultimately wins the battle. Those are the stories we hear in fairy tales, in lectures, in books. But shouldn't we spend some time hearing the failure stories too? Can't they be as instructive as the success stories? This is an idea I've been kicking around for a long time.

So the best possible story is the one where our hero encounters many struggles, but shows grit, refuses to quit, and ultimately wins the battle. Those are the stories we hear in fairy tales, in lectures, in books. But shouldn't we spend some time hearing the failure stories too? Can't they be as instructive as the success stories? This is an idea I've been kicking around for a long time.

It goes back to when I was in graduate school for writing. Most of us were young, earnest, hardworking writers. And it seemed that the obvious path to success was to emulate other successful writers. So we read and wrote and read and wrote and read some more. And we wrote a lot of short stories that tried to be Raymond Carver, a lot of novels that tried to be Virginia Woolf.