I paid for it, so I ate it.

I paid for it, so I ate it.

I was still eating long after I was clearly full, and my sister asked me what I was doing, because if I was full I could just stop, and I said the only thing I had, which was “I’d paid for it.”

It turns out she had seen a reel about exactly this, so she explained that it has a name, the sunk cost fallacy, and that I was doing it right there in front of her with a fork.

A buffet lunch, from the page.

The money was gone whether I finished the plate or not, so eating the rest of it didn’t get any of it back, and all it really meant was that I had paid for the food and then also made myself feel worse by eating more of it than I wanted.

So I went and read about it, and in 1985 two psychologists asked students to choose between a $100 ski trip and a $50 one they’d enjoy more, on the same weekend with both already paid for, and 33 of the 61 picked the $100 trip, which made me feel a lot better about the plate.

In another experiment the same two sold theatre season tickets at random prices, and the people who had paid full price came to more plays in the first half of the season, but by the second half the difference had mostly disappeared.

Paying more made people show up, at least for a while.

The study doesn’t say why the gap disappeared, but it made me wonder whether the money only had a hold on me while it still felt fresh. I’d have kept eating quite happily if my sister hadn’t said anything.

Walking away isn’t always right either, because a course that’s nearly finished might still be worth completing.

So the page ends with a blank bill where you put in whatever you’re halfway through, take out what you’ve already spent, and see whether what’s left is worth it.

What are you still finishing because you paid for it? Hit reply, I read every one.

Akash

the sunk cost fallacy · a sheets.works data drop

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