Why The Concept Of ‘Optionality’ Is Stopping Us From Pursuing Our Goals
Over the last six months, I’ve jumped from one project to the other. But, whether it’s at my company or with the personal growth work I do, I haven’t been able to finish any goal that I’ve started.
Perhaps I’ve taken on too much with significant changes at work, revamping my website and starting a podcast. Not to mention I’ve had persistent stomach issues for the past three months, which are simply not going away.
Could it also be that my curiosity, one of my strengths, is hindering me? My monkey mind seems to be ramped up by the deluge of information we can now access. Too many choices mixed with an insatiable curiosity is a recipe for anxiety and overwhelm.
I’m so curious about the world that when I read about how living in Costa Rica is lovely, I immediately stopped whatever I was doing and spent six hours researching the country. Fortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic stopped me from visiting Costa Rica, which would not have been a good idea since I was in the middle of moving company offices.
If I hear of a good book, I immediately buy it without thinking of the fact that I’d be overcome with anxiety as I’ve got three other books that are currently unread. After signing up for an expensive online course earlier this year, I still simmer with anger. I have not even completed a quarter of the course.
True, having access to so much information through the internet is one of the great success stories of the 20th century.
However, are we not becoming victims of too much information and options? Hasn’t it become harder to commit to one thing because of the surplus of choices? Could it be that our fear of missing out on these new shiny options have paralyzed us from commitment?
I certainly feel so. I see myself falling victim to this new culture known as ‘optionality’. This concept emanated from the world of finance but now seems to affect every facet of our lives.
In an essay called The Trouble with Optionality, Harvard professor Mihir Desai explains it:
“I’ve lost count of the number of students who, when describing their career goals, talk about their desire to “maximize optionality”. They’re referring to financial instruments known as options that confer the right to do something rather than an obligation to do something. For this reason, options have a “Heads I win, tails I don’t lose” character — what those in finance lovingly describe as a “nonlinear payoff structure.” When you hold an option, and the world moves with you, you enjoy the benefits; when the world moves against you, you are shielded from the bad outcome since you are not obligated to do anything. Optionality is the state of enjoying possibilities without being on the hook to do anything.”
I also see this thinking with our kids. Whether they are millennials or Gen Z, they unconsciously seem to veer towards this risk-averse concept. Today, most teens are not in a relationship; instead, they’d rather have a ‘thing’ and don’t want to be labelled as anyone’s boyfriend or girlfriend. They don’t commit to any field or subject; instead, they leave doors open to many possibilities.
Optionality is paralyzing as it stops us from taking risks, making heart-felt choices and, most importantly, committing to the things and people we love. It’s not only the younger generation who are using optionality as an excuse but us adults too. As a result, we are going around sideways, not upwards or even downwards. At least when down, we can reassess our goals and strategy.
We are becoming averse to making bold decisions and are not ready to commit to any goal. Instead, we’ve become masters at widening our safety nets. In doing so, we’ve avoided responsibility and stopped taking a stand for anything or cause, which ultimately leads to a life that lacks meaning.
The reality is that when we postpone our dreams, waiting for the right time or circumstance, we’ve made choices that derail us from moving towards our vision.
Let’s say you want to become a writer, but you stop that pursuit and instead work in finance. You did so to save enough for the inevitable non-earning days when writing. However, when you spend 5–7 years doing something else, you become that something else. It would now be hard for you to switch back to your ultimate dream of becoming a writer.
Playing safe and not wanting to be disciplined enough or suffer towards what we want to do stinks of cowardice. This changes our biology.
The shortest route between two points has always been a straight line. True, there are some needed stations on the way, but they must be brief. Anything else between you and your dream is a diversion. One that is created out of fear of failure, fear of being judged, or fear of missing out on greener pastures.
There is a romance and nobility in the pursuit and commitment to the one thing that we love. “Stay Narrow and go deep,” my writing instructor said to me many years ago. Of course, I didn’t understand it then, or perhaps I didn’t want to. But on a visceral level, I’ve always known that dedication to one thing can bring ultimate happiness in every realm of our lives.
When we do commit to one thing, there is the benefit of compounding. Whether it’s in relationships, business or hobbies, there is a certain kind of magic whenever we don’t give up on things and see it through to the end.
A friendship deepens when we have years of shared memories. A business grows both in meaning and revenue when customers become fans over the long term. Likewise, a hobby we start on can only become enjoyable when we’ve reached a certain level of competence and investment of time.
A few days ago, I was so down and frustrated with my lack of passion that I took a day off to contemplate what I want from my life and why I’ve been living with a constant handbrake when it comes to my goals. Even my commitment to writing, something I know brings me great joy, has been sporadic.
I came to realize that I’ve done nothing of significance for the past year. Instead, I’ve been sabotaging myself by seeking perfection in any goal I wanted to embark on. I’ve delayed projects, goals and dreams so that everything was right. And worse, I’ve become angry, frustrated and paralyzed by my inaction.
The truth is that it’s always safer to play small than to take risks. I was playing safe because, ultimately, in my own judgmental eyes, I was never enough. I was telling myself that I wasn’t doing anything substantial. This is probably something that I’ve carried with me from my childhood — nevertheless, it’s not true and it is just a limiting belief.
On that day that I took off, I wrote for almost six hours. A feeling of joy befell me and didn’t leave for several days. More importantly, many things became clear to me, including my liberating thoughts in this article.
I told myself (and will write it on my office wall) that as long as writing gives me meaning then, I’m okay. Whenever I put my faith in writing, I get this inexplicable feeling of safety. I’m enough.
I can’t be sure if writing will financially reward me for the time that I’m putting into it. Or whether through it I’ll find the authenticity and contentment I crave throughout my life. But I know that it works for now, and I will cling to it for dear life.
What’s that one thing that you’d want to put all your faith into?