cant quit now?

My cousin Vikram moved to Delhi's Mukherjee Nagar in 2019.

He was 23, fresh out of college, and had just turned down a ₹9 lakh IT job offer to chase his dream of becoming an IAS officer.

His parents mortgaged agricultural land in Haryana to fund two years of coaching and hostel fees. The plan was simple: crack UPSC, make the family proud, pay everything back.

He didn't clear Prelims the first year. Or the second.

By year three, he'd spent over ₹12 lakhs on coaching, books, test series, and living expenses in Delhi. His father asked him to come home and take a job.

Vikram's response: "Papa, if I quit now, those three years were for nothing."

He failed again in year four. By now his batchmates from college were earning ₹15-20 lakhs. Some had bought cars and one got married.

By year five, his younger sister's wedding got delayed because the family was still paying off his coaching loans.

Last Diwali, Vikram turned 30. He is still preparing for UPSC in Mukherjee Nagar.

When I asked him why he won't consider alternatives, he said the same thing he said at year three.

"I've given too much to stop now."

It feels like persistence. Like commitment. Like finishing what you started.
There's a different word for it though…

In 1985, psychologists Hal Arkes and Catherine Blumer ran an experiment at Ohio University's campus theater.

They randomly sold season tickets at three prices: full price ($15), a $2 discount, and a $7 discount. All tickets gave access to the same plays.

People who paid full price attended significantly more performances than those who got discounts. Same plays. Same access. The ones who paid more just felt a stronger pull to "get their money's worth."

The underlying mechanism comes from Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky's Prospect Theory, which earned Kahneman the 2002 Nobel Prize. 

Their core finding: losses feel roughly twice as painful as equivalent gains feel good. 

Quitting something you've invested in means accepting a certain loss. Our brains would rather keep going, hoping for a turnaround, than lock in that pain.

Arkes and Blumer proposed the behavior stems from "the desire not to appear wasteful." A deeply ingrained social norm, taught from childhood.

Now imagine this playing out in an Indian family.

India's coaching industry is valued at over ₹58,000 crore and projected to reach ₹1.3 lakh crore by 2028.

Think about the UPSC numbers for a second. Around 13.4 lakh candidates applied in 2024. Only about 1,000 were finally selected. That's a success rate of less than 0.1%.

For every person who clears UPSC, roughly 1,300 don't.
Many of them attempt it not once or twice, but four, five, six times.
General category candidates get six attempts until age 32.
SC/ST candidates get unlimited attempts until 37.

Each attempt means another year of coaching fees, another year of living expenses in Delhi, another year of watching your friends move on. And after every failed attempt, the reason to try again gets stronger. 

You've already spent three years. Then four. Then five. Walking away means all of that was for nothing.

The sunk cost compounds with every attempt.

A survey of 203 UPSC aspirants found that 53.3% rated their mental health as poor or somewhat poor. The more attempts someone had made, the worse their mental health got.

This isn't just a UPSC problem. 

In Kota, which draws over 2 lakh students annually for JEE and NEET preparation, 26 coaching students died by suicide in 2023, dropping to 17 in 2024. Nationally, student suicides rose 21% from 2019 to 2021.

What makes India's version of sunk cost uniquely painful is that it's rarely just your own money. Middle-class families mortgage homes and agricultural land to fund coaching. 

The child knows exactly what the family gave up. 

Quitting doesn't just mean personal failure.
It means your parents' sacrifice was wasted.
Your younger sibling's opportunities were delayed for nothing.

That guilt is heavier than any tuition fee. And it's what keeps people going long after the math has stopped making sense.

Indian marriages. Our divorce rate is roughly 1%, among the lowest globally. We celebrate this as proof that Indian families are stronger.

A low divorce rate doesn't mean happy marriages though. 

It often means people staying in unhappy ones because of what they've already invested: years, children, reputation, dowry.
"I've already given 15 years to this marriage" becomes the reason to give 15 more.
Couples living like strangers under the same roof, for the sake of appearances. 

Researchers call it "silent divorce."

Careers.
I know at least four people who completed engineering degrees they hated because their parents had already spent ₹8-10 lakhs on fees. 

Only about 55% of Indian graduates are considered employable. Many end up in jobs completely unrelated to their degrees. They finished the degree anyway because the money was already spent.

Even governments fall for it. The Concorde supersonic jet, which gave the fallacy its alternate name ("Concorde Fallacy"), continued development for decades despite clear evidence it would never be commercially viable. Too much money had already been spent to stop.

Same pattern every time. What you've already spent becomes the reason to keep spending. Even when the thing you're spending on looks nothing like what you signed up for.

Two months ago, I sat down with Vikram and asked him one question.

"Forget everything you've spent. Forget the six years. If you were 23 again today, with what you now know about yourself and this exam, would you choose UPSC?".

He went quiet for a long time.

"Probably not," he said. "I think I'd start a business."

That's the test. Economists call it the "zero-based" approach. Ignore what you've already spent. Only look at what's ahead. Would you start this today, knowing what you know now?

If the answer is no, you're not being dedicated. You're stuck.

Vikram hasn't quit UPSC entirely. He's given himself his sixth attempt as a hard deadline and started building skills in public policy consulting on the side. If the exam doesn't work out, he has something to transition into.

I've been using this question on myself too. Before renewing any commitment, I ask: "Would I start this fresh today?" If I'm only continuing because of what I've already put in, that's my signal to reconsider.

The logic is easy. Everyone gets it. Past spending shouldn't dictate future choices. The hard part is that in India, quitting anything, an exam, a marriage, a career path, feels like betraying the people who invested in you.

Staying in something that's destroying you doesn't honor their investment. It compounds the loss.

Vikram's parents didn't mortgage their land so their son could be miserable at 30. They did it so he could build a good life. Sometimes building that life means admitting the original plan didn't work.

What's the thing you're holding onto just because you've already invested too much?

Hit reply and tell me. I read every email.

Until next week,
Ritesh

P.S. Here's the flip side of sunk cost though. If you just started something and it's not working, you'll never have less invested than right now. Today is the cheapest day to change course. Tomorrow it only gets more expensive.