Buang Ik: Keeping the Chance to Start Again

If an opportunity offers an attractive return, but a bad outcome could take away the money needed to live, the ability to keep working, and the chance to begin again, “it probably won't happen” is not enough for me.

I have been thinking about buang ik. It is a reminder to allow for an outcome we do not want, however remote it appears. Taiwan's Ministry of Education describes 萬一 as an extremely small chance or occurrence. Literally, the characters mean “one in ten thousand,” but the expression conveys remoteness. It is not a measured probability for a particular decision.

The question I want to keep is this: if it goes wrong, will I still have meaningful choices about my life? Running a business, drawing on what I learned in my Executive MBA, and gradually writing down my thoughts on this website give me more to consider than how to become more capable. I also want to understand what I should not put at stake.

A small loss and a small chance of loss are different things

“Low risk” can mean an event is unlikely. It can also mean the damage would be limited. Those are very different claims. A mistake that can be repaired and an event that leaves a business unable to continue should not go into the same category simply because both are called risks.

Suppose a company is offered profitable work, but the contract could create obligations beyond the money and resources set aside for it. If the team does not yet understand the liability limit, the conditions that trigger payment, or how it can stop work, “the customer probably wouldn't do that” is insufficient. This hypothetical example asks us to understand the obligations before accepting them.

I can accept the uncertainty of trying something new when the potential loss is bounded and there is room to decide again. For exposure that could remove life's necessities or leave the company unable to continue, I would first look for a way to remove it, reduce its scope, or change the terms. If the remaining damage is beyond what I can bear, I would decline.

In his 2017 shareholder letter, Warren Buffett warns against risking what one has and needs for something one does not need. I read that as a question about the boundary of enough, rather than a ban on investing. An attractive return does not make everything required in exchange less valuable.

Work backward before moving ahead

I might normally begin by asking how to grow the business. Inversion adds another question: if this business were to fail, what would most likely break it, and which of those conditions am I allowing to develop?

In Stripe Press's edition of Poor Charlie's Almanack, Charlie Munger uses “Invert, always invert,” attributing the saying to the mathematician Carl Gustav Jacob Jacobi.

This does not require an accurate forecast of the future. Suppose collections are delayed, key team members are unavailable, or essential data cannot be used at the same time. Where would work stop? Then examine payment terms, cover for critical roles, and a recovery process that has been tested. Thinking about failure can reveal work that matters before taking on another opportunity.

I also need to be careful with a history of things going well. Getting through previous attempts does not prove a bad outcome is impossible. Several exposures may share one cause. A major customer might provide both the revenue and the payment we are waiting for, so these should not be counted as separate layers of protection. Allowance for trouble needs to consider what could fail together, rather than how many items appear on a list.

Working backward should therefore return to choices we can make: cap commitments, divide an experiment into stages, keep funds for necessary obligations, and check whether somebody can cover a critical role. Each has a cost. I want to know which risks I can carry and which should not be backed by the future I depend on. That does not require pretending a risk-free life is available.

Chinese warnings about lasting long enough

Chinese texts do not speak with one voice. Military writing and philosophy are not investment manuals. I read selected passages as prompts for judgment, rather than evidence that all Chinese people conduct business the same way or that following a saying guarantees wealth.

Chapter 44 of the Dao De Jing includes “知止不殆.” My paraphrase for this context is to recognize where to stop before carrying oneself into danger. What stays with me is that wanting more can be open-ended while the capacity to absorb damage is limited. Deciding what is enough belongs in caring for what has already been built.

In Sunzi's chapter on tactical dispositions, “先為不可勝，以待敵之可勝” broadly describes securing one's own position before waiting for an opportunity to win. Its original context is military. My business application is to make cash, people, and systems able to withstand errors before accelerating expansion.

Shiji, chapter 129 on wealth-making, records Jiran's words within the account involving Fan Li: “旱則資舟，水則資車.” The passage describes preparing boats during drought and carts during floods, in a discussion of commerce and changing conditions. I read it as preparation for a reversal in demand, rather than assuming favorable conditions will persist. It is not a rule to buy against every market, or proof that a cycle can be predicted.

These passages cannot replace understanding a contract, checking accounts, or knowing actual costs. They remind me that building wealth also involves preserving the capacity to work and choose. Buang ik, as I use it here, concerns something broader than a final sum of money.

A test of life does not always call for a bigger bet

Looking at life right now, I want to examine whether I am using knowledge to create choices or using confidence to explain obligations I do not yet understand. Technical ability can solve many problems. It does not remove limits on money, time, or people.

Sometimes the useful question is what to stop accepting for now. Declining an opportunity may cost revenue that never arrives. Accepting everything can also impose costs on existing work, colleagues, and life outside work. I want to see both sides before choosing, rather than treating courage or perseverance as reasons to skip those questions.

The boundary I want to draw starts with what needs protection, how much damage I can absorb, and when to stop. If the facts are insufficient, I would rather obtain them or test on a smaller scale first. Delay has a cost too, so I should be able to say which answer I am waiting for, rather than postponing because uncertainty exists.

For the next opportunity, I want to put two answers beside each other. What do we gain if it works? What could we lose that cannot be recovered if it fails? If the second answer remains beyond what I can bear, declining is a decision I can explain. I want to preserve the ability to begin again, rather than win occasionally by putting life's necessities at stake.

Sources and interpretation

The Chinese passages are linked to their identified texts, with my own paraphrases. Connecting them to life and business is an interpretation. The contract and operational-failure examples are hypothetical illustrations.