Some rewards are great enough to ignore risks and take big chances

By David McElroy · September 7, 2011

I was talking with a friend earlier today about risks and rewards. She’s more conservative than I am about risks, so she sometimes has trouble letting herself mentally commit to something risky — especially when the reward is something she really wants.

The conversation reminded me of a story I’d like to share with you.

…I attended a lecture being given by a man who had made millions of dollars speculating in commodities. Along with several hundred other people, I had paid five dollars to hear how to make a fortune in the commodities market using the system developed by this highly successful trader.

The air in the packed meeting room was charged with excitement. We all felt as if we were being let in on a valuable secret that would make us all rich. By the middle of the lecture, the speaker had built up a full head of steam, explaining his charts, talking about margins and contracts and the different kinds of orders he placed with his broker.

Suddenly a spectator near the back of the large room stood up and said, “Hey, wait a minute. From what I can see, all this speculation is very risky business. Don’t you realize that you can lose every penny you have — and then some?”

The millionaire responded without hesitating. “Why, yes. I certainly do realize that.”

“Then why do you continue to speculate.”

“I don’t know exactly why,” the lecturer answered. “I just know I’m willing to take the risk.”

“Well, I’m not,” the spectator snapped.

“The rich man smiled, paused a moment, and said, “That might be why I’m giving this lecture and you’re paying for it.” The audience exploded with laughter as the spectator blushed and sat down. He didn’t ask another question that evening.

I’m not trying to get you to consider speculating in commodities. (In fact, straight speculation in commodities tends to be disastrous.) But I am suggesting that most of us are too scared to take reasonable chances to get what we want. What’s more, we’re most afraid of taking chances when it comes to the things we most desperately need.

It’s scary to take risks. It’s sometimes scary to think that we might be worthy of the things we most want and need in life. We might easily take a sudden and momentary risk at the wheel of a car to shave 15 seconds off of an arrival time when we’re running late, but it’s much harder to take emotional and psychological risks that can allow us to attain the things that matter most to us, whether it’s love or other important life goals.

I haven’t always been willing to take risks. As I mentioned a couple of days ago, I have a long history as a closet coward. I know that the chances I’m willing to take right now might not all pay off. I might lose everything. As the commodities speculator said, “I just know I’m willing to take the risk,” because some potential payoffs are worth risking everything for.

Note: The story comes from Mike Hernacki’s book, “The Ultimate Secret to Getting Absolutely Everything You Want.”

Share on Social Networks

I haven’t posted anything new in my YouTube series about narcissism in the last couple of weeks, so some people have been asking about it. There’s nothing wrong and I’ll be back soon. The issue is simply a technical problem because of a piece of equipment that died. Here’s a brief video I posted on YouTube to explain.

On a live awards show Sunday night, one man made a joke about a female celebrity. The husband of the celebrity was offended and hit the man who made the joke. Or maybe it was staged for entertainment. Who knows? Who cares? Social media is full of discussion — and even arguments — about this idiocy today. This baffles me. Let’s assume for a moment that the event happened as reported. People have been having such idiotic fights ever since there have been humans. Half the bars in the world see such brief dustups regularly. It simply doesn’t matter. The fact that so many people believe they need to talk about this — or even need to have opinions about it — is more evidence of the bizarre media brainwashing that convinces many to care passionately about brain-dead trivia. Your life will be happier and saner if you focus on yourself, your family and your friends, not on whatever scripted (or spontaneous) bilge that the media wants to pipe into your home.

I’m in the middle of migrating this website to new servers this week. This means you might encounter some unexpected behavior until I get all the bugs worked out. Clicking on my links (including this one) might cause your browser to give you the message that it’s a site without a current security certificate. It’s not actually unsafe, but there’s something which isn’t yet set up for the security certificate. I apologize for any such errors you might encounter while the process is going on. If you notice any problems with content which didn’t migrate properly, I would appreciate you letting me know the details at davidmcelroy@mac.com. Thanks for your patience.

I often wonder what animals think when they look at us and consider the society we’ve created. Yes, I know this is fanciful and unrealistic, but what if they could? Would they be astounded at how we treat each other? Would they be disgusted by the ugliness and pettiness which fill so many of our daily interactions? The truth is that I’m feeling pretty disgusted with humanity tonight. I made the mistake of reading some online interactions that I should have avoided — and it sickened me. The people involved appeared to be vile and stupid and arrogant. I wish I could pretend they’re a tiny minority, but I know better. It’s times such as this when I most need to escape much of “civilization” and disconnect from their world. If humans are going to be worthy of “ruling this planet,” we have a lot of growth to do. And I fear that growth is nowhere in sight. So my buddy Thomas, above, and all of his friends would be right to judge us harshly — and to think, “Why do you folks get to be in charge?”

I should have expected this, but I honestly didn’t. The article I wrote last week about disagreements over treatment for autistic children brought me angry emails. You could almost call it “hate mail.” Of the five emails about it so far, two have been to tell me that I’m wrong to even listen to critics of the most popular therapy for autistic children — and the other three tell me I’m wrong for not condemning the treatment as the “obvious” abuse it is. If you read the article, you know I didn’t take a position on the issue, because I simply don’t know enough to have an opinion. But by talking about the issue, I stepped into a heated controversy. The emails from the two sides convinced me of nothing. But they did give me even more empathy for the unfortunate parents who have to figure out for themselves where the truth lies for their children.

Related Posts