A few weeks ago, I read Never Enough by Andrew Wilkinson and mentioned it in this newsletter. What stayed with me wasn’t his ambition. It was who he kept returning to.
Again and again, he pointed back to Charlie Munger.
Wilkinson had read every book he could find about him. He modeled his company, Tiny, after Berkshire Hathaway. And in the moments when everything around him felt noisy or urgent, it wasn’t another strategy or framework that helped him think clearly. It was Munger’s way of seeing.
That part lingered.
I’d been feeling mentally scattered myself—too many decisions, too many unfinished thoughts pulling in different directions. Not overwhelmed exactly, but frayed. It didn’t feel like I needed more input. I needed a clearer way to sort through what was already there.
So I picked up The Tao of Charlie Munger by David Clark. I expected a book about investment strategy. What I found instead was something far more useful: a slower, quieter approach to thinking.
Munger doesn’t try to be brilliant. He tries to avoid being wrong. He isn’t aiming for clever answers. He’s building a system to prevent preventable mistakes. That shift—from adding more to removing what clouds your view—makes his thinking unusually durable.
Below isn’t a summary of the book. It’s a small collection of ideas I’ve been trying to work with in my own life. They’ve helped me slow down, reframe, and move through decisions with a little more steadiness.
Ten nudges, each offering a slightly different entry point into the same mindset: Better thinking doesn’t always feel impressive. Sometimes it just means stepping around the avoidable.
Subtraction Thinking Is a Superpower
Charlie Munger isn’t trying to be the smartest person in the room. He’s trying to be the least foolish. That’s the real breakthrough: Better thinking isn’t about dazzling insight. It’s about restraint.
Most of us grow up taught to add. Add knowledge. Add effort. Add advantage. And when things get complicated, we add more: urgency, opinions, action. But Munger flips that. He subtracts. Bad ideas. Rash moves. False certainty.
He asks not What will make this work? but What will make this fail? Then he removes it.
That kind of thinking won’t win awards. But it will save you from the kind of unforced errors that drain time, energy, and trust. You don’t need to be brilliant, to paraphrase Munger. You just need to take fewer foul shots.
That’s the shift I’m trying to make. Less ego. Less impulse. More margin.
I’ve started noticing his thinking in moments when I pause, choose differently, or stop myself from rushing in. These aren’t grand strategies. Just ten small habits of thought I’ve been trying to practice when things feel messy.
10 Munger Ideas That Are Changing How I Think
1. Avoid Stupidity Over Chasing Genius
It is remarkable how much long-term advantage people like us have gotten by trying to be consistently not stupid, instead of trying to be very intelligent.
I used to aim for the smartest move. The clever insight. But I’m trying to shift my focus toward not blowing it.
Now, when I feel pressure to be impressive, I pause and ask: What would it look like to just avoid a bad decision?
Lesson: Think of something important to you. Ask: What’s the dumbest way to screw this up? Then don’t do that.
2. Invert, Always Invert
All I want to know is where I’m going to die, so I’ll never go there.
I’ve been trying to use inversion more—when planning, writing, even parenting. Asking how this could fail often gets me to clarity faster than asking how to make it work.
Lesson: Take any goal or plan you’re working on. Flip it. Ask: If this totally fails, what likely caused it? Then remove that.
3. Sit on Your Hands
The big money is not in the buying and the selling, but in the waiting.
I’m noticing how often I act to relieve discomfort. Whether it’s replying too fast, over-polishing a project, or jumping on the next idea, movement can be a trap.
I’m trying to wait longer before reacting. To let the dust settle before I kick it up again.
Lesson: When you feel urgency, pause. Ask: Is this clarity, or just discomfort I’m trying to escape?
4. Use More Than One Mental Model
If the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
I tend to default to the same frameworks, especially when they’ve worked before. But I’m trying to switch tools more often. Psychology. Incentives. Systems thinking.
Munger’s clarity often comes from seeing a problem from outside the field it lives in.
Lesson: When you’re stuck, reframe the situation using a different discipline. Incentives (econ)? Feedback loops (engineering)? Status games (sociology)?
5. Always Ask: What Are the Incentives?
Show me the incentive and I will show you the outcome.
I’ve been trying to make this a reflex: when someone’s actions confuse me, I pause and ask, What might they be optimizing for?
It usually softens my reaction and sharpens my understanding.
Lesson: Take one recent decision someone made that frustrated you. Now ask: If I were them, what would I be solving for?
6. Compounding Isn’t Just for Money
The first rule of compounding: Never interrupt it unnecessarily.
I used to think compounding applied mainly to money. Now I’m realizing how much it shapes relationships, too.
Like when I send a voice memo to a friend, even if it’s short. Or when I go quiet for a few weeks and the silence stretches longer than I meant it to.
The hardest part isn’t starting.
It’s not breaking the streak.
Lesson: What’s compounding quietly in your life right now—connection, momentum, trust? Protect it today.
7. Label the Bias
The human mind is like the human egg: once it accepts a belief, it shuts out competing information.
Sometimes I catch myself jumping to conclusions. Online, it happens even faster.
I’ve been trying to notice that moment sooner. Naming the bias gives me just enough distance to reconsider.
Lesson: The next time you react strongly, pause and ask: Is this confirmation bias? Loss aversion? Sunk cost? Name it. It softens it.
8. Think in Probabilities, Not Certainties
It’s not supposed to be easy. Anyone who finds it easy is stupid.
Munger doesn’t make predictions. He speaks in odds.
I’ve been trying to do the same, though it’s hardest when I feel pressure to sound certain.
Saying “probably” doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest.
Lesson: Before giving advice or making a call, say: “Here’s what I think is most likely…”
That one word softens certainty—and sharpens judgment.
9. Protect Your Reputation
It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it.
I keep returning to this idea in moments I’d usually shrug off—a quick check-in I postpone, a commitment I brush past, a tone I don’t bother softening.
Keep the small promises. Follow through. Clarify. Say less when irritated. That’s the reminder I’m trying to carry with the people who matter most.
It doesn’t feel heroic. But it builds trust, one quiet choice at a time.
Lesson: Think of the message you’ve been avoiding. The one that feels small, but keeps lingering. Reply to it today—kindly, clearly, completely. That’s one quiet deposit into your reputation.
10. Deserve It
The best way to get what you want is to deserve what you want.
It lingers when I expect more than I’ve contributed.
A thoughtful reply to a rushed email. Clarity on a project I’ve barely defined.
Lately, I’ve been asking: Did I really earn a better response?
Lesson: Think of something you want—respect, opportunity, peace. Ask: What would I do today if I were trying to deserve it? Then do one small thing in that direction.
Wisdom by Subtraction
Munger doesn’t give you tricks. He gives you filters.
He teaches you to think slower, to react less, to ask better questions. The more I try to use his principles, the more I notice how often I was operating on noise, chasing cleverness instead of clarity.
I still feel scattered some days. But now, I pause more. I subtract more. I’m learning to let good thinking be quiet.
Better thinking doesn’t always feel like progress.
But it creates just enough space for it to begin.
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