Everyone wants to optimize. You’d be a fool not to.

But maximum optimization usually kills optionality.

Take money. Say I’ve got a $10 million net worth. I could optimize every penny—slice it, leverage it, get my cash working in S&P, crypto, and angel deals.

But that’s not wisdom; that’s fragility. Because life—and macro cycles—happen.

So I might optimize 60–70%. The rest stays loose. That 30% is insurance money. Optionality. The ability to pivot when the world goes sideways.

When not optimized, you are insured.

Same for machines.

Drive a German car—a BMW or Audi—and that little six-cylinder somehow pumps out 400 horsepower. It’s a marvel of engineering. Until it breaks. Then you’re staring down the barrel of a $26,000 repair bill.

My old Toyota Land Cruiser, may it rest in peace (was totaled), had a big V8 with miserable gas mileage and a measly 230 horsepower. But it always started. 300,000+ miles and never flinched.

That engine was wildly under-optimized. But it would’ve outlived any new Audi/BMW.

Optionality endures when optimization runs hot.

Now apply that to your business.

I work with professional service teams trying to figure out AI, automation, and workflow optimization. The goal makes sense: get humans out of the muck. Eliminate drudgery.

But what happens when AWS goes down? Or your AI vendor goes sideways (or has a funding issue)?

You’ve built everything around one stack, one way of doing things. Super effecient! And when it crashes, your team’s stranded.

No redundancy. No optionality. No resilience.

Optimization is speed. Optionality is survival.

So as you streamline and automate, run every system through this test:

What happens when it breaks?

If the answer is “we’re screwed,” come up with a better plan.

‍