THE THOUGHT

I always buy the extended warranty.

The laptop, the TV, the phone that will be obsolete in two years. The salesperson's lips are still moving when I find myself nodding yes. "Just in case," I tell myself, though I've never once used a warranty that wasn't already covered.

There's something about that moment when we weigh risk against comfort. The phantom pain of future repairs, the weight of responsibility for not choosing protection when it was offered. So I pay the premium and walk away feeling safer. But safer than what?

While the extended warranty disappears into a drawer, a paper talisman against all uncertainty, I can't help but wonder: what am I really purchasing? Why does the promise of eliminating one small risk feel more valuable than accepting a dozen reasonable ones?

THE DIVE

The Illusion of Zero

Zero-Risk Bias is our tendency to prefer the complete elimination of a small risk over a larger reduction in a bigger risk. We often choose "zero" even when that choice is less safe overall.

This bias emerges from how our brains process probability. Emotionally, the difference between 0% and 1% feels exponentially larger than the difference between 10% and 11%. Any residual risk triggers our threat-detection systems, so eliminating one risk entirely feels like victory, even when we've ignored more probable dangers lurking elsewhere.

The phenomenon extends into social and economic behavior. Regulatory agencies often allocate disproportionate resources to eliminate trace risks while underfunding programs that could prevent thousands of deaths. We demand "zero tolerance" policies in schools while ignoring systemic issues that affect far more students.

Marketers understand this instinctively. Products labeled "sugar-free" or "zero calorie" trigger our bias toward elimination, even when they contain artificial alternatives that pose different risks. We fall for it because absolutism is cognitively efficient. Binary categories like "safe" or "risky" allow our vigilant minds to rest. Nuance demands energy.

But the world operates in gradients, not absolutes. Risk is a spectrum, not a switch. When we reach for "zero," we often miss opportunities to meaningfully reduce harm across multiple dimensions. We fixate on unlikely catastrophes while everyday hazards compound around us. The real illusion seems to be control itself.

THE PRACTICE

Living with Maybe

Let's pay attention to our zero moments. When does your mind reach for complete elimination? Notice when you gravitate toward "all or nothing" thinking. The moments when partial protection feels insufficient.

Try this experiment. Choose one area where you typically insist on zero risk. This week, let it be a little uncertain. Avoid recklessness and embrace a recalibration with maybe.

Leave the house without checking the weather twice. Choose the restaurant without reading every review. Notice what happens when you lean into that small space of maybe. Your tolerance for uncertainty might surprise you. I know mine has.

What becomes possible when we say no to protection that costs more than it's worth? What shifts when we stop optimizing for elimination? What kind of world emerges when we make space for reasonable risk? I'm curious to learn what you discover. See you next week.