top of page

The Strategic Quit: Why Walking Away Is Sometimes the Smartest Move You’ll Ever Make

  • Steve Nguyen, PhD
  • Apr 15
  • 5 min read

Updated: Apr 15


Recently, a small business owner I know was forced to close his decade-old business.


After many restless nights and considerable inner turmoil, he made the gut-wrenching decision to shut it down. What most people who have never started and run their own business don’t see are all the behind-the-scenes battles entrepreneurs wage just to keep their companies afloat. And despite overcoming obstacle after obstacle, some challenges (e.g., rising rent, higher costs of goods, shifting consumer demands, etc.) have a way of colliding at the worst possible moment, leaving you with a single, painful question: do I keep going, or do I stop?


In her book Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away, Annie Duke explores a cultural bias most of us carry without realizing it: we celebrate those who push through, and we quietly judge, or outright condemn, those who walk away. But Duke argues that quitting is sometimes the smartest way to win in the long run, whether you’re cutting your losses at the poker table or turning back on a mountain climb so you can try again another day.


The Double Edge of Grit


Here’s something worth sitting with: anyone who has succeeded at anything has, by definition, stuck with it. That’s true. But, and this is the part we rarely talk about, the reverse isn’t true. Sticking with something does not guarantee you’ll succeed at it.


Grit is sold to us as an unqualified virtue. And it can be. But the same quality that helps you push through genuinely hard and worthwhile challenges can also trap you in hard situations that are no longer worthwhile. Grit, in other words, doesn’t know the difference. You have to.


Duke calls this the quitting bind: we judge people who wait too long to quit as stubborn or delusional, yet we mock those who quit before it seems obvious to everyone else. There’s almost no good time to quit in the eyes of others, and that is exactly why the decision has to come from within.


The Sunk Cost Trap


One of the biggest forces keeping us from quitting when we should is what economists call the sunk cost effect: a cognitive trap in which the time, money, and energy we’ve already invested in something becomes the primary reason we keep going. Not future potential. Not genuine hope. Just the fear of “wasting” what we’ve already spent.


It shows up everywhere. The homeowner who can’t walk away from a money pit because of what they’ve already poured into it. The student who stays in a miserable major because they’ve already taken so many of the required courses. The professional who stays in a career they’ve grown to hate because leaving would mean admitting that all those years of training led somewhere they didn’t want to go. Or even something as small as sitting through a terrible movie because you’ve already watched the first hour. The greater the investment, Duke points out, the harder it becomes to quit, even when quitting is clearly the right call.


I can relate to this personally. I spent three years in a pre-medicine program as an undergraduate, taking nearly every required course, preparing to sit for the MCAT, setting myself up to apply to medical school, even though I never had any real intention of going. The courses kept piling up, and so did my reluctance to admit I was on a track that wasn’t mine.


When Quitting Feels Like Losing Yourself


Duke makes a deeper point that hits closest to home: the hardest thing to quit isn’t a job or a project. It’s an identity.


Our beliefs, our decisions, and the stories we tell about ourselves are all deeply interwoven. When we quit something, we don’t just close a chapter; we open a moment of reckoning. If you abandon a belief, that’s the moment you acknowledge you were wrong. If you change direction after years on a certain path, that’s when “failing” becomes “having failed.” And if you’ve failed, it’s easy to leap to the conclusion that you made a mistake by starting in the first place.


Logically, we know that’s not true. Circumstances change. Information changes. We change. But emotionally, quitting can feel like a public admission of error, and the desire to maintain both our own self-image and others’ perception of us as consistent, rational people keeps us locked in place long after we should have moved on.


When the World Quits for You


Sometimes, of course, the choice isn’t ours to make. A partner ends a relationship. An employer lets you go. A business runs out of runway. An employee walks. A contract evaporates. Duke acknowledges this openly: sometimes you choose to quit, and sometimes the world makes that choice for you. It’s painful when the decision is taken out of your hands; what comes next is what matters. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start looking for what’s next.


Duke’s own story illustrates this beautifully. A few days before a major job talk at NYU, her chronic illness became acute and landed her in the hospital for a couple of weeks. She had to delay her academic career, take a leave from graduate school, and, suddenly without her fellowship stipend, find a way to earn an income, with severely limited options and no idea how she’d feel from one day to the next.


So she started playing poker. Not as a career plan; just as something flexible she could do in the meantime, fully expecting to return to academia and “become a professor” the following year. Instead, she fell in love with poker! What was meant to be temporary lasted eighteen years, and along the way she earned a World Series of Poker championship bracelet, won the WSOP Tournament of Champions, and won the NBC National Heads-Up Poker Championship.


Being forced to quit, Duke reflects, sometimes gets you to see opportunities that have been right in front of you all along, ones you’d never have noticed because you weren’t even looking for them. Not always. But sometimes. And the ones who discover those opportunities are usually the ones who were forced to stop looking in the direction they’d always been facing.


Takeaway


Here’s what I want you to take away from all of this: quitting can be a smart decision, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.


We’ve been conditioned to see quitting as weakness, as giving up, as something winners simply don’t do. But that framing is too simple, and often flat-out wrong. Sometimes quitting a job, a relationship, a business, or a belief is the most honest and courageous thing you can do. It means you’re paying attention. It means you’re willing to prioritize where you’re going over the comfort of where you’ve already been.


The small business owner I mentioned at the start of this post didn’t fail. He made a hard call under hard circumstances, and that takes more clarity and strength than most people realize. The same goes for anyone who has ever walked away from something that was no longer working, even when others didn’t understand why.


So the next time you’re weighing whether to quit something, don’t ask yourself if quitting makes you a quitter. Ask yourself whether staying is actually moving you forward, or just protecting you from the discomfort of letting go. Sometimes the smartest, bravest thing you can do is walk away and not look back.


Written By: Steve Nguyen, Ph.D.

Organizational & Leadership Development Leader

 

Reference


Duke, A. (2022). Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away. Portfolio/Penguin.

bottom of page