February 22, 2026
Why Do I Desire?
This my first post to this blog. It's an essay looking at the conundrum of using a particular strategy to achieve a goal and still having a nagging desire to follow a crowd.
5 min read
My wife and I recently cleared two retirement milestones. We had one number that would let us leave our jobs comfortably and a second “stretch” target about 15% higher. We dreamed how retirement would be more secure if we managed to reach the stretch goal, but we never expected to hit it. Sixty days ago we crossed that stretch goal. From our perspectives, we’d won.
And yet I still want more at times. Why do I want to chase more after hitting a goal that was set to secure freedom? Why do I still desire?
Early mistakes: thinking I could beat the market
When I started investing, I bought individual stocks and bonds because I believed I understood the economy and individual companies to the point that I could do better than the benchmarks. We began investing later than we should have and I thought we needed to do better than compounding would allow in order to catch up. Every attempt to outperform cost us money. The experiment wasn’t huge — roughly $20,000 — but it was enough to teach me a durable lesson: the market is full of smarter experts, timing the market is impossible, and luck plays an outsized role in success.
The simple pivot that worked
Our fortunes changed when we made a structural shift: we moved to low‑cost, broadly diversified index funds. It’s is boring but effective — own the market, keep fees low, and give compounding time to work. That simple approach changed our trajectory.
Why new “things” still tempt me
That doesn’t mean I’m immune to shiny objects. Cryptocurrencies are a recurring example with me. The narratives are loud: anonymity, a hedge against fiat currencies, digital scarcity, a path to outsized returns; especially those returns. Those stories are compelling, and the social media and podcast ecosystems amplify them. People who’ve profited early are vocal and visible; their stories are emotionally powerful. And all the while, my wife and I just plod along slow and steady. Is this why they say that comparison is the theif of all joy?
But compelling narratives aren’t the same as reliable investment theories. When I try to boil down the reasons to own crypto into one clear and repeatable sentence, I find that I can’t do it. Is it a hedge against inflation? The evidence is no longer mixed; it isn’t a hedge against inflation. Is it anonymous? No, since law enforcement has traced and recovered stolen funds in several high‑profile cases. Is it digital gold? It didn’t behave like gold in late 2025 and early 2026. There’s an old adage that you onlyinvest in what you understand and can explain to another person. If I can’t confidently explain why something should beat a low‑cost index fund through multiple market cycles, then it shouldn’t get any of my allocation.
Behavioral biases that drive temptation
Behavioral economics attempts to use insights from psychology and economics to explain why people make the financial decisions that they do and it gives us a vocabulary for these impulses. A bias is a mental shortcut that we make that cause us to make predictable deviations from rational decision-making.
Confirmation bias makes me gravitate toward, or possibly seek out, podcasts and blogs that affirm the story I want to hear.
Hindsight bias makes the historical price recoveries of Bitcoin look inevitable after the fact, which leads to overconfidence that it will happen again.
In the end, the most powerful bias that I am fighting is FOMO, the fear of missing out. It is such a powerful motivator: vivid tales of early adopters turning small stakes into life‑changing sums make us imagine how different life would be if we’d only invest. It is a classic case of keeping up with the Joneses. Josh Brown, CEO of Ritholtz Wealth Management, recently wrote that “the cure for the Fear of Missing Out is usually just time. It doesn’t cost anything”.; November 21, 2025
Practical rules keep me anchored
I’ve translated my lessons into simple rules to guide my behavior:
- Only invest in what you can explain to someone like they are 5 years old.
- Wait. Just like if I want to buy something, I wait a week. If I still want to buy it after a week, I can go ahead and make the purchase. Most often the urge doesn’t exist any longer. Wait longer than a week when investing.
- Favor boring over quickness. Aesop gave us the fable of the Tortoise and the Hare. Warren Buffet, the famed investor, regaled that temperament was more important that intelligence in investing.
A final thought: rules beat willpower
Why do I desire investments which I know I should avoid? Because I am human. And because I compare. The best defense against temptation isn’t moralizing about discipline; it’s having simple, practical rules that make bad outcomes unlikely.
My wife and I reached our goals by doing the mundane things right: saving, diversifying, controlling costs, and being patient. I’ll still get tempted by shiny things — I’m human — but rules, perspective, and a bias toward the boring keep me focused on what matters.