Burn the Boats

I write this email from the bathroom of my hotel in Queens, NYC. It’s 12:03 AM and my 7 year old has a cough, so he’s been keeping me awake.

I think the cough has subsided, but my mind is buzzing. I know I won’t be able to sleep until I bang out this newsletter.

‍Today I want to write about burning the boats. You’ve heard the phrase, yeah? I’m Googling it now and apparently it’s the title of a book I’ve never read. The synopsis goes as such,

“In this gripping rags-to-riches instant classic, Matt Higgins provides the blueprint he used to go from a desperate sixteen-year-old high school dropout caring for his sick mother in Queens, New York, to a shark on Shark Tank and the faculty of Harvard Business School.”

‍Queens, eh? Coincidence? No such thing.

I have no idea if this book is any good, but I know that burning the boats is a good thing. But what does that phrase mean, exactly?

"Burning the boats" means destroying all possible ways to go back to a situation.

‍In other words it can mean:

• Quitting your job to start a business

• Selling your house to move somewhere entirely new

• Deleting your dating apps after finding “the one”

• Pouring 100% of your savings into something you’re passionate about

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‍I highly recommend watching their whole documentary, but there's an especially moving part at 41:35 that last about 5 minutes. Please give it a watch.

What a perfect example of "when burning the boats goes right."

But alas, there are still two competing viewpoints in my mind.

1. Burning the boats is good because when there’s no Plan B, Plan A HAS to work.

2. Burning the boats is foolish because it’s wise to always have a backup plan.

Is it okay to believe both of these things at the same time?

I wrote about the “Wingwalker’s Code” back in January in a thread on asymmetrical bets. It makes sense, right?

But how can both be true? And when do we choose one, but not the other?

Story time.

In newsletters #0001 and #0002 I told the story of LCDcycle. But that’s not the whole story.

When I sold Phone Restore, I cut a deal with the acquirers. It was a no good very bad deal, in fact.

It turns out I still had a lot of learning to do in the year my brain officially became fully developed (25 - I’m a late bloomer though, my brain is still forming today.)

The deal was this:

1. I had 4 stores, and my acquirer had 1.

2. They pay me $20k upfront and ⅓ of all combined store profits, passively, in perpetuity.

3. They invest $50k into making the branding of all 5 stores match up so it could become franchisable.

4. They do all the work, and I sit on the beach and collect mailbox money.

‍But here’s the thing, I launched LCDcycle the day after I sold Phone Restore. I was certainly allowed to do this, as Phone Restore didn’t sell parts, nor had any plans to, and there was no noncompete anyway.

But my two partners soon learned how successful my new venture was becoming. As a dumb 25 year old, I likely told them too much (oops).

I got a profit check in months 1 and 2, but never again, despite the fact that the business kept growing and growing.

Why? Well, I can tell that story another day, but that’s not the point. The point is that my two partners burned my boats for me, without my consent.

I sat on the white sand and watched those catamarans disappear into the Caribbean, bloody Wilson at my side.

LCDcycle HAD to work, or I couldn’t feed my kids. So I willed it to work.

I’ve had a couple other “burn the boats” moments, and guess what, they always just worked.

‍But I’ve had many, many Plan B moments, and my success rate on those startups is around 30%.

Why? Because when the going got tough, I shrugged my shoulders and quit. Why keep grinding on thing B when thing A was printing mailbox money?

I had a company called Presto Cars once. It was a concierge car buying service. I didn’t reinvent the wheel, as this is a well-proven business model. But the company failed. Why? Because I really don’t like cars, and it was kinda hard, so I quit.

It’s because I was getting mailbox money. You better believe I’d still be slangin’ Toyota Avalons today if I had to.

But let’s talk about having a Plan B for a moment. I often have friends tell me about their business idea and ask me if they should quit their 6 figure job. I almost always tell them no. They're hoping and expecting I'll say yes!

“Huh? But why? Aren’t you the king of going all in??”

‍Well, gosh, thank you, but no. I can’t advise that because the thought of doing such a thing scares me to death. I could never dream of encouraging you to risk your family’s livelihood, especially when you might turn out to be a totally crap business owner!

Burning the boats is NOT taking a poorly calculated risk. If burning the boats is done right it will feel like the obvious decision.

And remember, most every time I burned the boats in a big way, it was done for me. I can’t think of a time (in business at least) when I’ve willingly chosen to burn the boats on a scale as grand as quitting my job, hoping that the next thing goes well.

Sometimes that fire arrow comes arching from behind the ridge and lands right on the stern, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So how can this help you?

Well, because you should know that you can do both. You can have a Plan B and burn the boats at the same time. You can both have and eat your cake.

One more quick story time.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints I have never tasted

• Alcohol

• Drugs

• Cigarettes/Weed

Not even a drop or a whiff!

So when I go to networking events and I’m offered a beer, the temptation to say yes is 0.00%. I made up my mind as a kid and I’ve never faltered.

‍So at age 31 when I looked in the mirror and saw how fat I’d gotten in my 20s, I knew I had to make a change. I knew I had to lay off the carbs. But how?

I treated carbs as if they were a drug. Like I had already made up my mind to avoid them decades ago.

‍Once I flipped this switch in my brain it literally wasn’t even an option, much less a temptation. 5 months later and I was down 60 pounds and I’ve kept it off ever since (5 years now).

That’s a “burn the boats” moment. Your BTB moment doesn't have to be quitting your job, it can be smaller things, too. You can do the same with whatever your “burn the boats moment” needs to be.

‍In a practical sense, let’s say John makes $180k/year and wants to open a mini donut stand. He’s all in. He wants to start with 1 and then create a franchisable model that he can scale nationwide.

John doesn’t go and quit his job, no, no, no. John burns the boats by committing to this plan, in this order:

1. Day 1 - He sets a revenue goal within a reasonable timeframe. If these goals are hit, he quits his job. If not, he stays.

2. Months 1 - 3 - Spend nights and weekends learning everything about the business

3. Month 4 - 5  - Finds and buys a mini donut cart on eBay.

4. Month 6 - Learns how to operate everything in his spare time

5. Month 7 - Spends weekends at fairs, festivals and farmers markets slangin’ donuts and learning the ropes.

6. Month 9 - Buys a 2nd cart and hires his first employee, etc.

You get the idea.

I read and reply to every single response to this newsletter, and I know that most of you:

1. Own a business/RE

2. Want to own a business/RE

‍Both categories will always need a burn the boats moment. Maybe it’s to open location #2 or maybe it’s to quit your job.‍

I can’t remember ever having a conversation with someone about a major trial they faced and had them not tell me something to the effect of “but man did things get so much better afterwards.”

Many of you reading this are likely going through some serious suck right now. I promise that your greatest days are ahead of you. I don’t know why this email is taking this weird turn, but it feels right. Maybe it's for you?

‍If you burn the boats and run out of coconuts, you’re about to find a herd of cattle and a spring.

If you burn the boats and you get desperately homesick, you’re about to be rescued.

If you burn the boats and you feel hopelessly foolish, I promise you’re about to be vindicated.

What doesn’t kill us doesn’t make us stronger, it reveals the strength we’ve always had.

You can do this. Burn those boats, or have a Plan B, or both.

Please share with someone who could use some boat burning in their life. Thanks for reading.

Chris