There’s an old adage: "When the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail."

For entrepreneurs, who—as I recently stated—“identify gaps in the market and seize upon them to address unmet needs”, this is a well-known challenge.

Many refer to this as shiny object syndrome—an irresistible urge to pursue the latest, most dazzling ‘opportunity,’ regardless of whether it aligns with your core business or roadmap

I think of this as terminal distraction; when left unchecked, it can kill ventures of all sizes.

For entrepreneurs building ventures that are better for the world, this cognitive bias is often exacerbated by the sheer number of problems that need solving. And if you’re a systems thinker, designer, or engineer, beware! Before long, everything starts to look like a systems design problem (even though one could argue that many of humanity's biggest issues stem from poor systems design).

One of the most significant challenges I see for impact entrepreneurs is the absence of a ruthless dedication to Purpose.

We often hear terms like ‘mission drift’ to describe when an organisation allows itself to be pulled off course. While this is a gentle euphemism, the consequences of straying from the path can be devastating. Let your yacht drift into international shipping lanes, for example, and you may end up colliding with a tanker.

To make matters worse, there’s no shortage of signposts for both the path and the dangers of straying from it. Go to any bookshop and pick up just about any business book—they’re full of relatively consistent guidance on where not to go and how to stay on course.

This bias seems to appear more frequently in entrepreneurs than in most other people I’ve worked with. In my experience, it arises for one of two reasons:

The founders declare that something is a good idea and have built a culture and governance model that accommodates their hubris. The organisation is in crisis, and any idea that looks like it might bring in money seems worthy of pursuit.

• The founders declare that something is a good idea and have built a culture and governance model that accommodates their hubris.

• The organisation is in crisis, and any idea that looks like it might bring in money seems worthy of pursuit.

Too often, organisations make decisions about their trajectory without rigorously assessing their purpose, strategy, and operational reality —and without doing what is urgently required to ensure their survival.

In short, they need to make a great many decisions, from the micro to the macro. Unfortunately, decisiveness, especially in times of crisis, is often mischaracterised as being brutal and uncaring. But is it really uncaring to amputate a limb if it threatens the existence of the entire body? Who does it benefit if you let your organisation die, if the only reason it's doing so is because you've failed to do what is necessary?

At the root of the word ‘decide’ is the Latin caedere, meaning to kill. To decide, therefore, is simply the active elimination of choice.

Many years ago, I worked with a food sovereignty organisation. They had experienced mission drift, due in part to the strings attached to philanthropic and grant funding, and the pursuit of a business model that had stretched them incredibly thin. I’m gratified to say that the co-founders successfully refined and redefined their purpose and culture, developed a new strategy, redesigned their structure and governance, and made several critical decisions in operations, communications, funding, and scaling that increased their revenue, reach and results. Thirteen years later, they remain an extraordinarily potent force in shaping this movement.

They had to make some difficult decisions—the most challenging of which, unsurprisingly, was cutting business lines and saying goodbye to long-term team members associated with them. They also had to learn to say no to more things and decide how to prioritise their time between the success of their business and the longer-term systemic change they were supporting. That is, they needed to know if they were creating change through the vehicle of their business - generating profitable revenue and supporting a large and growing community of staff, supporters, and customers. Or were they purely in the business of change?

It’s a false dichotomy, granted, because systemic change requires elements of both, lest we leave it to governments and civil society organisations alone to solve the world’s problems (because that’s been working so well for the last couple of centuries). But it also illustrates that when push comes to shove, we have to decide whether we’re going to martyr ourselves to the cause or do what is necessary to feed our families.

An unwillingness to eliminate choice creates additional systemic risk for revenue-funded ethical enterprises.

On one hand, they are often in the business of disrupting legacy industries and operating models, which requires expanding choice. On the other hand, they also need to help others decide if the goods or services they offer are valuable to them in order to facilitate sales.

But without asking for a decision—a clear yes or no—ethical sales organisations can find themselves with a significant pipeline of seeming opportunities that languish in a state of indecision. This is neither good for the client (unless they’re in a long-term deliberative process), good for the change, nor good for the business. Sales organisations survive on the clarity of yeses and nos; they die in the maybes.

I believe it's an essential skill for ethical entrepreneurs everywhere to learn how to eliminate choice. Start with yourself: note anywhere you’ve been actively avoiding a decision and begin saying yes or no more consistently. Then move into your organisation: take a serious reality check on the gap between your purpose and your current reality, and start making the necessary decisions to achieve that purpose. And only then, move your attention to the larger systemic change your activities support, and get rigorous with discerning what effort is sustainable for you.

While it may be an uncomfortable muscle to exercise, without stretching against the discomfort, an organisation is at risk of seizing, and becoming unable to serve you, your stakeholders, partners, customers and the world at large.

I believe that robust public discourse is essential, and that ethical entrepreneurs can and should find ways to learn from each others challenges and successes. Please share your experience with difficult decisions in the comments below.