Parshas Shelach 5782
It’s a losing proposition. Just close up shop and move on to the next venture.
But you can’t, you say. Because you’ve already put in so much time, effort, and money into getting this business up off the ground, you cant just walk away now. No metric or reasonable narrative in the world ends with you turning a profit, but you simply can’t pry yourself away once you’ve already invested so much.
This is the sunk-cost bias. It’s a force with enough power to suck you deeper and deeper into a black hole of resources, all while feeding itself on resources that have already been spent. It’s the stuff that money pits are made of and keeps us glued to our investments, possessions, or activities, even when it’s clearly prudent to walk away.
A sunk-cost bias can be really harmful. And it can also be really helpful.
The twelve spies collectively enter the Land of Canaan and appear to make Chevron the first stop on the itinerary. But while the Torah describes the entrance into the Land using the plural, “ויעלו—and they went up,” it speaks of coming to Chevron in the singular, “ויבא—and he came.” Rashi explains that in fact, it was only one of the spies who visited Chevron:
ויבא עד חברון. כָּלֵב לְבַדּוֹ הָלַךְ שָׁם וְנִשְׁתַּטֵּחַ עַל קִבְרֵי אָבוֹת שֶׁלֹּא יְהֵא נִסָּת לַחֲבֵרָיו לִהְיוֹת בַּעֲצָתָם
רש׳׳י יג:כב
And he came to Chevron. Kalev alone went there to bow down upon the graves of the patriarchs, so that he would not be swayed by his companions to be included in their evil counsel.
Rashi 13:22
Rashi explains that it was Kalev alone who went to Chevron and that he did so in order to pray at the graves of the Avos, at Ma’aras HaMachpeilah. Apparently Kalev already sensed what was brewing, that his fellow spies were planning on rendering a less-than-rosy report of what the Holy Land had to offer and was concerned about being influenced to do the same.
To be sure, Kalev’s concerns were noble ones. But in what way was a visit to Chevron the answer? Perhaps it was simply a means of petitioning Hashem in an especially holy location, hoping to achieve truly impactful results through such super-charged tefilos. Yet it is odd that for something that would seem to ultimately come down to Kalev’s own bechirah chafshis—his free will—that no indication is given for how he intended to strengthen his own inner fortitude against the schemes of his fellow spies. Why only seek divine assistance without trying to help himself directly?
I’d suggest that the visit to Chevron was meant to serve this purpose as well. Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov enjoyed a powerful relationship with Eretz Yisrael, one they sacrificed for mightily. Avraham picked himself up from a bustling civilization in order to live in the relative exile of dusty, backwater Canaan. Yitzchak experienced the hardship of famine and was prepared to exit the Holy Land to seek sustenance in Egypt before Hashem appeared to him, insisting he must remain. Yaakov was born and raised in Israel and trembled in fear over the prospect of leaving it behind for the asylum that other lands would offer against his brother’s attempts at his life, or, again, from famine. It was only Hashem’s promise of protection that swayed him to leave his beloved land.
Kalev visited the graves of his great ancestors to remind himself of their dedication to the Land of Israel. In part, perhaps to rouse within himself a determination to remain committed to the Land himself. “If they could be so dedicated, then so could I.” Yet it’s hard to imagine that—as close as he was to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, relative to our own times—that Kalev imagined himself as being capable of what his ancestors were. “They were awfully dedicated, but they were far more impressive people,” is a reasonable response to wriggle free from the responsibility of such unfair a comparison.
Rather, I believe Kalev was reminding himself of the cost that the Avos had already sunk into Eretz Yisrael. “I may not be as great as my ancestors, but I don’t really need to be. Nobdoy’s expecting me to make the same sacrifices as them, but I can’t just drop the ball now. Not after all they’ve already done. They sacrificed, they cared, they longed. Is the Jewish People’s connection with the Land of Israel really going to end in my generation? Not if I can help it.”
Beware of sunk-cost bias when it begins to suck you further and further into the house you never should have bought, the investment you never should have made, or the business you never should have started. But lean into it—hard—when it offers to pull you deeper and deeper into the values you know you must live by.
We may not be expected to make the same sacrifices or take the same spiritual strides as the giants of the past. Perhaps it is unreasonable to expect to live up to the same standard as our ancestors and leaders who lived just mere generations ago. But it is critical that we consider all they accomplished if only to grow more insistent that we will maintain their legacy. What they sacrificed for Talmud Torah. For Shabbos. For showing kindness when selfishness would have been more than justified. If we can’t achieve their same heights, we must at least keep the ball in the air.