My Only New Year’s Resolution: Stop Being “Pathologically Conservative”

Physicians are trained to be conservative for good reasons. You don’t “wing it” in the OR. You don’t ignore a troponin. You build safety margins because people get hurt when you don’t.

But the same reflex that makes you a good doctor can make you a miserable early-retirement planner.

As we move into the new year, my resolution is simple: I’m done being pathologically conservative — financially and personally.

Not reckless. Not irresponsible. Just done optimizing my life around avoiding a low-probability bad outcome while ignoring a high-probability cost: wasting time I can’t get back.

When “Conservative” Becomes “Pathological” in FIRE

The FIRE community often treats extra caution like a virtue in itself. Work a little longer “just in case.” Save a little more “just in case.” Pick the most pessimistic assumptions “just in case.”

That mindset feels safe, but it has a shadow side: you can spend your healthiest years acting like life starts after the spreadsheet says you’re allowed to live.

One redditor said it well: the classic 4% rule has “a small chance of bankruptcy and a high chance of ending up with an absurd amount of money.”

That’s the asymmetry we rarely admit.

We talk endlessly about the small chance of running out. We barely talk about the much larger chance of dying with far more than you needed because you were afraid to use the money that was supposed to buy you freedom.

And if you’re a high-income physician — already donating nights, weekends, and holidays to the hospital — the opportunity cost is brutal. Extra safety can cost you relationships, health, and joy.

The 4% Rule Isn’t a Religion (and Life Isn’t Static)

The 4% rule is a useful starting point. It’s simple, memorable, and historically grounded. But it’s also static: “Withdraw X, inflation-adjust it every year, no matter what happens.”

That’s not how doctors practice medicine. You don’t keep the same pressor dose for 30 years. You titrate.

Most people on a finance forum would do the same with retirement spending. If the market is down 40–50%, the idea that you would blindly keep withdrawing the same inflation-adjusted amount is… strange. Real humans adapt.

And adaptation is the whole point.

The biggest “secret” in retirement planning is that flexibility is a superpower. If you’re willing to pull even a few levers, you can take less risk than the spreadsheet assumes:

• Spend a little less in down years; spend a little more in up years.
• Delay a big purchase when markets are ugly.
• Do a small amount of earned income (locums, per diem, telemedicine, teaching, consulting) when it’s advantageous.

Those moves don’t have to be dramatic to matter. A few thousand dollars a month for one or two years during a bad sequence of returns can dramatically change outcomes. Same with a 10–15% temporary spending cut.

In other words: you don’t need a rigid plan. You need a resilient plan.

FIRE Doesn’t Have to Mean Misery (Especially for Physicians)

I’ve watched physicians turn FIRE into a second residency: joyless, self-punishing, and fueled by guilt.

We’ll work 60–80 hours a week and then act like the “right” way to achieve freedom is to live like broke students forever. That’s not discipline; that’s burnout in a different outfit.

Financial independence is not the trophy. It’s the tool.

It’s the ability to buy options:

• the ability to say no to an extra call shift,
• the ability to downshift without panic,
• the ability to take a sabbatical,
• the ability to step away from a toxic job.

If FIRE makes you miserable, you missed the point.

The Other Half of the Resolution: Become Good With Money

There’s another trap physicians fall into: hiding behind the stereotype that “doctors are terrible with money.”

We’re not doomed. We’re just human — and our situation has predictable pressure points:

• delayed gratification (training for a decade),
• high student loan balances,
• sudden high income,
• lifestyle creep and “I deserve it” spending,
• trying to keep up with colleagues.

Many of us hit attendinghood emotionally exhausted and financially behind. Then we swing hard in either direction: spend like we’re already rich, or hoard like the world is ending.

The boring truth is that physician wealth-building is simple if you can commit to a plan:

• Use tax-advantaged accounts aggressively (work plans, backdoor Roth IRA if needed, HSA if eligible).
• Invest primarily in low-cost index funds.
• Automate contributions.
• When tax-advantaged space is full, invest in a taxable brokerage account for flexibility.

Instead of “amazing investments,” stick to consistent behavior over time.

And you don’t need to live like a monk. You just need to avoid turning status purchases into golden handcuffs.

Don’t Buy the Doctor House on Day One

The “doctor house” is the classic financial own-goal: huge mortgage, huge maintenance, huge pressure to furnish it like a magazine spread, and suddenly you can’t imagine working less.

Same for the luxury cars the minute your first big paycheck hits, and the expensive hobbies you don’t have time to enjoy.

If you want those things, fine — buy them deliberately. But don’t buy them because you’re trying to look like the version of yourself you fantasized about when you were an exhausted resident.

Lifestyle is a choice. So is freedom.

I’ll tell you a story.

Even when I had technically reached financial independence, I never had the mindset of “I’m quitting and never working again.” What I wanted was space.

Between being an attending and starting a fellowship, my wife and I took a three-month trip. We drove from Paris to Portugal, came back to the U.S., then flew to Bali and Tokyo.

I spent $30,000 — basically all the money I had at the time. After that trip, I had nothing left.

And it still didn’t matter.

Because for the first time in years, I felt like a person again, not a productivity machine. I had deferred so much of life to training. I got a slice of it back. Then fellowship started and I worked like a dog again.

That trip didn’t derail my future. It reminded me why I was building it.

The point of money is not to die with the biggest number. The point is to use money to support a life you actually want — while you still have the health to enjoy it.

A Practical New Year Playbook

If you want to make the same resolution, here’s a simple way to do it:

1. Write down your “enough” number — and your “enough” life.
2. Plan for flexibility, not perfection. Consider variable spending and a pre-decided “bear market budget.”
3. Automate the boring stuff: retirement accounts, index funds, regular investing.
4. Spend on purpose. Pick 1–2 things that make your life better and fund them guilt-free.
5. Don’t let status purchases chain you to a job you’re trying to escape.

Be conservative where it matters: insurance, diversification, fees, and debt.

But don’t be pathologically conservative with your one real nonrenewable resource: healthy time.

That’s my resolution for the new year.

— Dr. Nirav Shah

(As always, this is not individualized financial advice.)