Tuesday Email: Saying 'No' to Get More Depth, Value

Read time: ~4.35 minutes

Happy Tuesday!

Every Tuesday I'd like to offer strategies for the week ahead and a thought to fuel your action.

Simply put, we suck at saying no.

We believe "no" closes doors—doors to opportunities, relationships, and moments of growth. We fear missing out, crave acceptance, and seek comfort in saying "yes."

I'm living proof. Early this year, my mornings were open—space to think deeply, proactively explore, and generate thoughtful ideas. I was calm, floating effortlessly. But gradually, unnoticed, each small "yes" filled my calendar. I barely realized it until a Tuesday at 9:13 AM, clicking "Accept" on yet another meeting invite. Suddenly, my last quiet hour was gone.

I felt overwhelmed, reactive, and frustrated. It wasn't a momentary blip—it was an avalanche of commitments I'd created, pebble by pebble, yes by yes.

This isn't just my problem; it's ours. Our inability to say no isn't rooted in kindness—it's rooted in uncertainty. Without clear priorities, each opportunity seems critical.

FOMO isn't new. In 1759, Adam Smith described how humans are prone to overestimate the value of future opportunities while undervaluing their present peace of mind. We haven't evolved much since.

FOMO is the mental equivalent of overpacking for a trip—your suitcase of commitments is stuffed because you're terrified of not being prepared, even if it means lugging extra weight everywhere you go.

We also crave acceptance. The word "no" creates instant friction, while "yes" smooths social interactions.

Anthropologists have found that across cultures, humans instinctively seek harmony in small groups. This worked when we lived in bands of 150 people. With unlimited connection possibilities today, this same instinct drives us to overcommit.

But beneath these patterns lies a deeper truth: we struggle with "no" primarily because we lack crystallized priorities.

Every commitment follows the law of diminishing returns. The first few yeses create disproportionate value, but each subsequent commitment dilutes your effectiveness.

Overcommitment is like watering every plant in a giant garden with a single cup—you hit everything, but nothing truly gets what it needs to grow.

We instinctively believe that saying "yes" provides greater insights and opportunities. The data suggests otherwise. Barry Schwartz's research on choice overload shows that beyond a certain threshold, additional options actually decrease satisfaction and decision quality. The same principle applies to commitments—they quickly transform from opportunities into obligations.

When Steve Jobs returned to Apple in 1997, the company was creating dozens of products, many profitable. He eliminated all but four. This wasn't about saying no to bad ideas—it was saying no to good ideas that weren't great ideas.

"People think focus means saying yes to the thing you've got to focus on," Jobs later explained. "But that's not what it means at all. It means saying no to the hundred other good ideas."

Yes in a vacuum seems negligible, but it's secretly building an obligation avalanche. It's like agreeing to carry one small rock at a time—you barely notice the weight until suddenly you're crushed by the mountain on your back.

Warren Buffett's approach is instructive.

He lists out his 25 current goals, then circles the top 5. Most people assume the remaining 20 become secondary priorities.

Buffett's twist: those 20 become his "avoid at all costs" list—they're the most dangerous because they're appealing enough to distract you from your true priorities. Saying no isn't about being disagreeable. It's about creating space—the very space where innovation happens.

Peter Drucker observed that effective executives don't start with their tasks; they begin with their time. They don't try to save time—they consolidate it into large, consecutive blocks where depth becomes possible.

The peculiar power of "no" is that it actually expands possibilities rather than limiting them. By declining the merely good, you create room for the genuinely exceptional. This applies beyond work. Author Greg McKeown suggests we should measure our success not by how much we take on but by how much we gracefully decline.

The challenge isn't in the mechanics of declining—it's in knowing exactly what deserves your yes.

I now keep a sticky note on my computer monitor with three specific priorities. When a request comes in, I don't ask if it's interesting or valuable. I ask if it directly advances one of those priorities. Most don't.

The futureproof advisor understands that true leverage doesn't come from squeezing more into each day. It comes from removing what doesn't matter to create space for what does.

The best is ahead!

-Matt