Nothing Left on the Table
I’ve been thinking about this idea: doing a little extra makes me feel good.
On the surface, it sounds like moral virtue – “work hard, persist, go the extra mile.” Childhood lessons replayed in adult life. But it goes deeper, much deeper.
In business or technology, we design systems to handle 95% of scenarios.
But reality? Reality tests you at the edges.
That rare concurrency bug that corrupts production data. That one unexpected user behaviors that crashes your service. That extra millisecond of latency that compounds into millions in lost revenue at scale. The universe doesn’t care about averages. It tests you at the edges. Nature itself got built this way.
Evolution didn’t reward those who could survive the median temperature – it rewarded those who could survive the drought, the storm, the scarcity.
Doing the little bit extra isn’t polish. It’s existential necessity.
In business too, people think effort is linear. More effort, more returns. But reality is non-linear.
Asymmetric.
Sometimes the last 10% of effort yields 90% of returns. That final user interview that clarifies your entire GTM strategy. That midnight call that salvages a multimillion-dollar contract. That one extra clause you read in the agreement that saves you from strategic risk.
Most startups don’t die because they didn’t work hard. They die because their work lacked sharpness in completion. They left small parts undone, unrefined, untested. And the market is unforgiving to rough drafts.
Then there’s life. Why does it feel good to do that little extra?
Because deep down, we’re meaning-making machines. When we leave tasks incomplete, or do them “enough,” and our subconscious carries forward a residue. A subtle unease that becomes identity. One half-done workout. One half-hearted conversation. One half-designed product module. Over time it calcifies into: “I am someone who leaves things incomplete.” It's self-torturing to live with that feeling with oneself.
But when you push through that final bit – even when nobody sees it – something flips inside you. You integrate intention and action. You live in alignment with who you say you are. And you experience a quiet peace.
That’s why perfectionism paralyses, but completionism liberates. Perfectionism is fear of judgement. Completionism is honoring the integrity of your own work.
Zoom out even further. Everything, at its essence, is entropy versus integrity. Entropy is decay, disorder, incompleteness. Integrity is wholeness, cohesion, truth. Doing the last 1% is your personal rebellion against entropy. It’s a small act of creation, order, and meaning.
And in the end, it’s not only about winning. It’s about winning in a magnificent way.
Doing the extra might look like sunk cost. But, it’s the only thing that matters. Because when you reach the end of your days, you won’t remember how you optimized your life. You’ll remember if you showed up in full. If you honored your craft like an artisan. If you respected your partners like a leader. If your work reflected your soul. If you left any residue of incompleteness.
Most people live in transactions. What’s the least viable effort to get paid, validated, accepted. Some choose to live transcendental. What’s the most truthful expression of myself in this task, in this relationship, in this moment.
That’s where technology scales. Business compounds. And humans live with a quiet confidence that nobody can take away:
“I left nothing on the table today.”
Not because the world demanded it. But because my soul did.