no going back
Sunk cost bias. Even if you don’t yet know what this is, trust me, you’ve been there. Sunk cost bias refers to what economists call a situation where we persist with a decision, direction or action because we’ve invested so much that we just can’t bring ourselves to commit to the inevitable (and entirely rational) U-turn. Too much effort, too much time, too much money, or too much ‘face’ has been thrown at the issue to contemplate backing down, and admit defeat.
I kinda feel that way about blogging. I can’t give it up now as it’s taken such an investment of all of the above that I just can’t call it a day and couldn’t conceive turning my back on the whole damn activity. But, deep-down, I know I should. We all should.
I’ve mentioned before about how everyone, via the highly combustible combination of confidence, self-belief, delusion & chutzpah, appears to be blagging it these days. In this world of post-truth and fake news, the speed, size and volume of your wing-and-a-prayer-opinion has replaced bona-fide fact and integrity. We may argue we want detailed, exhaustive and corroborated journalism but we don’t because we want it now, on Instagram or on our Twitter feed. The simple truth is that we are not prepared to wait for the truth and by the time it turns-up we’ve already made our minds up via the ping of sensational sound-bite and latest Kardashian clip.
Courtesy of the blogosphere, everyone now has an opinion, everyone is an outspoken authority on whatever tickles their particular fancy, informed or otherwise. The manner in which the rich & famous have replaced the measured, considered and intelligent is proof of this particular dumbing-down pudding, and those all-important follower-numbers now determine the impact an individual can have over virtually any subject, any audience, they choose. In just a few short days a racist, sexist, misogynist reality TV star becomes the most powerful man in the world. And his platform for election? Forget anything serious here, his platform for election was Twitter. The most powerful person in the world was elected on his often deranged, yet always cunning, use of 140 characters and on our desire to want to read them.
Me, y’honour? Guilty as charged.