Retirement Investing Blog | Beck Bode

What’s the worst financial decision someone can make?

Written by Benjamin Beck, CFP® | April 22, 2025

The other day, I was driving north on Route 1 in Walpole, Massachusetts. Just as I passed the intersection at Route 27, the Boston skyline popped into view—clear, crisp, and lit up perfectly in the late afternoon sun. It caught me off guard in the best way.

It took me back to being a kid, riding in the back seat of my parents’ old Chevy Celebrity wagon—my brother beside me, he and I probably annoying the heck out of each other—as we wound through the Kancamagus Highway in New Hampshire. The views were incredible. Towering trees, endless ridgelines, that feeling like you were surrounded by something much bigger than yourself. It was stunning.

But it was also deceiving.

One minute you're marveling at the beauty, and the next, you're gripping the edge of your seat as fog rolls in or the road turns slick with rain or ice. It’s not the norm, but especially in the late fall and winter, a sudden whiteout or fast-moving storm can make an otherwise peaceful drive downright treacherous. You go from sightseeing to survival mode real fast.

And that’s kind of how financial life tends to unfold, doesn’t it?

We love to believe the most dangerous part of the journey is behind us once we've reached a peak—a career milestone, a net worth target, retirement. But just like on a mountain, most accidents happen on the way down.

Take Mount Washington, for example. It’s not the tallest peak in the East—far from it—but it’s among the deadliest. It’s accessible, seemingly manageable, and even has a road to the top. But it also holds the record for the fastest wind speed ever recorded on Earth (231 mph). The weather can change in minutes. And most fatalities happen after hikers summit—on the descent. Why? Maybe they relax. Maybe they feel like the hardest part is behind them—after all, they’ve reached the summit. But they don’t always account for the fact that all the energy they’ve burned is now gone, and the descent is where the real danger lurks. They assume they’re safe, but the path down demands just as much, if not more, focus, stamina, and guidance. It’s exactly when they think they’re in the clear that things can unravel.

That’s exactly what can happen in investing. We work so hard to build wealth, but maintaining and protecting that wealth—especially during moments of fear or uncertainty—is when the real danger sets in.

And that’s why our relationship matters.

I often get asked, whether on podcasts or at events, “What’s the worst financial decision someone can make?

There are many contenders. But here’s where I always land:

1. Not protecting your family in the event you fail to wake up tomorrow.

Wow. You weren't expecting that one, were you?

Yeah, I get it. It’s not the flashy, headline-grabbing kind of mistake. But really—what is financial success for, if not for the people you care about most?

Wealth is love.

You can have the best investment strategy in the world. But if your family is left unprotected—because there’s no life insurance or basic estate plan in place—it can all unravel in an instant.

And the thing is, this mistake is rarely about neglect. More often, it’s about assumption—or even avoidance. People just don’t want to think about it. Or they assume they’ve got more time. Or that they’re too young. Or that they’ll “have enough” eventually. And so they put it off.

But the one thing we can all agree on? None of us knows what tomorrow holds. And the time to prepare isn’t after a diagnosis or a close call. It’s now.

If you love someone, protect them. It’s that simple.

2. Panicking—or hesitating—when things look uncertain.

I swear, every time the market hits a new high—and it’s done that plenty—someone always shows up to say they “lost money in the market,” or that “stocks are too risky.” It’s like clockwork. As predictable as a 3rd grader asking, “Are we there yet?” before you even hit the highway. 

And yet, the S&P 500 has returned about 10% annually for nearly 100 years. So how do people lose money?

By getting out when things feel scary. Or by never getting in at all.

Let’s take one example:

If you invested $10,000 in the S&P 500 in 1970 and just left it alone, today it would be worth over $2 million. That’s despite:

  • A bear market about every five years
  • An average decline of roughly 33% in those bear markets
  • (if you didn't do the math above, that means about $330k of your once $1M account appears to vanish for a bit...)
  • Multiple wars and recessions
  • Three of the largest market drops since the Great Depression

So why do people still hesitate? Because fear is loud. And the media is built to keep it that way.

But markets always climb higher. Not without bumps—but always forward over time.

The only real way to lose money is to leave the game.

It’s not a lack of information—it’s our nature.

Human beings make terrible investors. Sorry, not sorry. 

Not because we’re dumb—but because we’re emotional. We are wired for survival, not for compounding wealth.

We chase trends. We sell when we should hold. We tune into voices that confirm our fears. We act on headlines, not history.

You can’t “educate” your way out of this. Just like hikers on Mount Washington can’t out-educate a sudden weather change. It’s not about knowing the risks—it’s about being guided through them.

And that’s what we do together.

I don’t exist to overwhelm you with charts or economic forecasts. I’m here to help you stay focused when it’s hardest. I’m here to keep your plan alive when fear is loudest. I’m here so you don’t have to make decisions alone when the path gets rocky.

The worst financial decisions don’t happen when people lack knowledge. They happen when people are alone in the fog without a guide.

We can all get tired on the descent. That’s why you don’t hike the mountain alone.

That’s why I’m here, let's connect

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Ben Beck is Managing Partner & Chief Investment Officer at Beck Bode, a deliberately different wealth management firm with a unique view on investing, business and life.