What is the sunk cost fallacy?

The sunk cost fallacy is the tendency to continue an endeavor once an investment in money, effort, or time has been made, even when it's no longer viable or beneficial.

Why do we fall for the sunk cost fallacy?

We fall for the sunk cost fallacy because our minds focus on past investments, making us reluctant to 'waste' what we’ve already spent, and this often clouds our judgment about the future return on investment.

How does the sunk cost effect apply to video games?

The sunk cost effect in video games manifests as players continuing to invest time in a game to justify the effort already put in, often pursuing incremental achievements or goals even when enjoyment diminishes.

How can I overcome the sunk cost fallacy?

To overcome the sunk cost fallacy, regularly reassess your commitments based on current and future benefits rather than past costs, and be willing to let go of investments that no longer serve you.

Can the sunk cost fallacy affect relationships?

Yes, the sunk cost fallacy can affect relationships by allowing past emotional investments to compel continued commitment, even when the relationship no longer provides happiness or mutual benefit.

Sunk Cost Seduction

Why It Works: The Mind’s Accounting

Humans don’t like waste. Put hours into something, and walking away feels like throwing it out—so we stay. In Civilization, the late-game grind isn’t always fun; it’s “I’ve come this far.” That’s sunk cost seduction—your mind tallies what’s spent, not what’s ahead. Arkes and Blumer showed in 1985 how this kicks in: past investment skews us to keep going, even when it’s irrational Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes. Perseverance makes sense for real stakes—tracking prey, pushing a venture past a hurdle. Games flip it: virtual payoffs feel real in your head, fake outside it, and still you stick. It’s a ledger we can’t unwrite, even when the prize is smoke.

This hooks back to randomness and speed. Once you’re in—chasing the unknown, reacting fast—investment seals it. We’re built for persistence—finish the task, not abandon it—but that wiring glitches when the finish line’s a mirage. Think of it as a bug in your decision code: you weigh the past, not the present, and keep running.

Where It Lands: Games and Beyond

It’s not just Civ. Sunk costs show up everywhere—hours building that empire, a social media streak you won’t let die, a project or role you can’t quit even when the returns fade. In games, it feels noble—look at all I’ve done. In life, it’s heavier—sticking with a path because you’ve sunk too much to turn back. One’s a badge you wear; the other’s a burden you carry.

Both pull the same way: investment digs you deeper. Pride keeps you in a game; pressure keeps you in a slog. It’s in your playtime, your profile, your commitments—and it’s compelling because it’s yours. You’ve built it, so you hold it, even when it’s not building back.

The Cost: Momentum Over Judgment

Here’s where it bites: sunk costs trap you, and maturity pays the price. Self-control and clear thinking need a reset button—investment overrides it with momentum. A game might eat hours chasing a virtual crown—real perseverance hunts food, not pixels. In life, it’s worse—energy sinks into projects, relationships, plans past their point, all because you’ve invested. One’s a detour that costs a night; the other’s a dead end that costs more.

The short-term stickiness is strong—you’re in, so you stay—but it doesn’t lift you. Real rewards justify the grind; fake ones just grind you down. It’s a pull that keeps you, not builds you. This is one layer. The rest—five more—pile on to make it tighter. Want the full stack? Keep reading.