The problem is that when we speak of plan Bs, we already negate

The words of Isaac Herzog — “The problem is that when we speak of plan B, we already negate the possibility of moving on with plan A.” — are not the casual musings of a politician, but the voice of one who understands the hidden frailty of divided will. For in these words lies a profound teaching: that doubt, when given form and name, can weaken resolve, and that the mind which prepares its retreat too soon will never march boldly forward.

To speak of a plan B is to prepare for failure even as one sets out to succeed. It is the planting of two seeds in the same soil: one of determination, the other of hesitation. And though both seeds may sprout, their roots entangle, stealing life from each other. The ancients knew this truth well. They taught that the arrow, once released, cannot serve two targets; it must fly unbroken toward one. So too with our resolve: if our spirit is divided between victory and retreat, the strength of our pursuit diminishes.

History offers us luminous examples. Consider Cortés, who, upon reaching the shores of the New World, burned his ships so that his men could not turn back. To some, it was madness. But in truth, it was clarity: by destroying plan B, he forced all to give themselves wholly to plan A. In that act of finality, resolve was sharpened, and his men fought with the desperation of those who know there is no retreat. Whatever one may think of the conquest itself, the lesson is immortal — divided paths weaken the spirit, but total commitment sharpens it into iron.

We also find wisdom in the tale of Julius Caesar, who, standing at the Rubicon, chose not to seek an alternate way but to commit fully. “The die is cast,” he declared, and by crossing, he severed all possibility of retreat. Had he paused to craft a second plan, had he looked over his shoulder, his soldiers would have sensed hesitation, and his destiny would have faltered. Instead, by moving only forward, he carved his name into the stone of history.

Herzog’s words reveal the hidden danger of plan B: it is not merely a fallback, but a whisper of doubt that seeps into the heart. When we allow ourselves to speak of alternatives before giving our first path its full measure of courage, we have already weakened our stride. The soldier who marches toward battle while glancing back is already half-defeated. The craftsman who begins his work while planning for failure will never pour his whole soul into the task. And the leader who proclaims options beyond the chosen path signals to his people that the path itself may not be worth walking.

This is not to say that prudence and preparation are without value, but Herzog reminds us that there is a time for strategy and a time for commitment. Once plan A is chosen, it must be embraced with the full might of one’s being, without hesitation or retreat. Only then does the spirit summon its hidden reserves, only then do we find the strength we did not know we had. The gods of victory favor not the wavering but the resolute.

The lesson is clear: when you set forth upon a path — whether in love, in work, in leadership, or in the shaping of your destiny — give yourself wholly to it. Do not cripple it by speaking of alternatives before you have truly tested its worth. Burn your ships if you must, cast your die, commit with courage. If the path fails, then and only then may you chart a new course. But while you walk it, let your eyes never stray.

Practical wisdom follows. When you begin a great endeavor, silence the whispers of retreat. Pour your effort, your focus, your heart entirely into it. Speak of plan A as if no other plan exists, for in that faith lies the fire that turns possibility into reality. And should the day come when the path is blocked, then rise again, craft a new way — but only after you have given everything to the first. For the true weakness is not in failure, but in never committing fully to begin with.

Thus, Herzog’s words endure as a warning and a guide: the moment you speak of plan B, you weaken plan A. Choose with wisdom, commit with courage, and march with undivided will. For history remembers not the hesitant, but those who gave themselves wholly to the path they chose.