The project has been running for eighteen months. The original assumptions have proven wrong. The market has changed. The technology is not working as planned. Everyone on the leadership team knows: this is going nowhere. But no one says it as long as the sponsor still believes in it. So it continues. Another quarter. Another pivot. Another budget increase. The justification is always the same: “We’ve already invested so much.”
The sunk cost fallacy is one of the most expensive cognitive errors in management. It makes us throw good money after bad, even though what has already been invested is irrelevant to the decision going forward. The ability to end projects in time is one of the most underestimated leadership skills.
A programme manager I supported described the moment like this: “Everyone had known for months that the project was dead. But every steering committee found a new reason to keep going. A new sponsor. An adjusted scope. A reduced budget. Only when I asked, ‘Would we still start this project today?’ was the answer clear within five seconds: no. But no one had asked that question out loud before.” The past had taken the future hostage.
Ending projects is often rationally necessary, but emotionally almost always difficult.
Sunk costs keep you trapped. Every euro, every hour, every hope already invested becomes an argument for continuing. Daniel Kahneman, Nobel laureate in behavioural economics, showed that people feel losses about twice as strongly as gains of the same size. Stopping a project feels like a loss; continuing feels like avoiding that loss—even when the rational calculation clearly argues against it.
Stopping is equated with failure. In many organisations, the rule is: whoever stops a project has failed. This culture punishes rational decisions and rewards irrational perseverance. Projects are not ended; they are “reprioritised”, “paused”, or “realigned”—all euphemisms for what really needs to be said.
Personal reputation is at stake. Anyone who initiated or sponsored a project ties their credibility to it. So people fight for projects they no longer believe in themselves. And no one wants to be the bearer of bad news, so everyone waits for someone else to take the first step.
| Perseverance | Stubbornness |
|---|---|
| The original hypothesis is still intact. | The hypothesis has been disproven. |
| The difficulties are solvable. | The difficulties are systemic. |
| The team is motivated and sees a way forward. | The team is struggling, but no longer believes. |
| You are investing in the future. | You are defending the past. |
Not every difficulty justifies termination. Projects go through crises. But five signals show when a crisis marks the end.
The original hypothesis has been disproven. Not shaken, but disproven. When the core assumptions the project is based on no longer hold, the foundation is gone.
The business case is permanently destroyed. Not temporarily weakened, but structurally no longer achievable. The key question: Would you still start this project today, with everything you know now? If the answer is no, why are you continuing it?
The opportunity costs outweigh the benefits. The people, the budget, the attention tied up—what could they achieve elsewhere? If the alternative is clearly more attractive, the project ties up resources that would have greater impact elsewhere. This is where prioritisation logic helps: every yes to this project is an implicit no to something else.
The team no longer believes in it. The people closest to it often sense earlier than management when something can no longer be saved. Listen.
You constantly need new reasons to keep going. Healthy projects have momentum. If you regularly catch yourself looking for justifications, that is a warning sign. Projects you believe in do not need to be defended to yourself.
Stopping a project is not a technical decision. It is an act of leadership.
First: Decide clearly and communicate honestly.
“We’ll pause for now” or “We’ll keep it on a low burn” are not decisions. They are avoidance strategies that tie up resources and leave teams in limbo. If you stop, do it properly. Communicate honestly: “The project has not met its objectives and will be discontinued” is clearer than “We have decided to strategically reallocate resources.” People deserve honesty, even when it is uncomfortable.
Second: Acknowledge the work and secure the insights.
A stopped project does not mean the people failed. Separate the hypothesis that proved wrong from the execution, which may have been excellent. Redefine success: success was not launching the product. Success was learning quickly and cost-effectively that this path does not work. That is not spin; it is the truth. And secure the insights: What did we learn? Which assumptions were wrong? What would we do differently? These learnings are lost when projects are quietly buried instead of consciously concluded.
Third: Give people a perspective and strengthen the culture.
What happens to the team? Where do employees go? These questions must be answered before you announce the end. As a manager, you bear responsibility for the decision to start the project and for the decision to end it. Both are part of your role, not the team’s. How you handle stopping shapes your corporate culture. If you communicate honestly, secure learnings, and treat people respectfully, you send a signal: it is safe to admit mistakes. That encourages risk-taking and innovation.
Organisations that are good at stopping are also good at starting. Because they know: not every idea has to work, but every idea deserves an honest assessment.
Stopping projects feels like defeat. In most organisations, there is no recognition for it. But some companies deliberately celebrate stopped projects. Teams that recognise early that their idea does not work receive recognition instead of criticism. The logic: those who stop quickly free up resources for what truly works.
The best managers are not the ones who never fail. They are the ones who recognise early enough when it is time to stop—and then act decisively.
Tomorrow, look at your current project list and ask yourself the one question no one asks out loud: Which project would you no longer start today? You probably already know the answer. The question is whether you have the courage to draw the consequence.
The art of saying no – ending projects is the most consistent form of saying no.
Measuring what matters – the wrong KPIs keep dead projects alive because they measure activity instead of impact.
Proven tools and models for self-application are available under Solutions.
If you want to take these thoughts further for your company, a no-obligation initial conversation is worthwhile.
