Recently in this column, I spoke out against the careless use of mobile data, particularly through aimless scrolling online.
However, it’s worth acknowledging that even within our digital indulgence, there are moments of meaningful discovery. Just the other day, while browsing one of the leadership pages I follow on social media, I came across the concept of the Dead Horse Theory a striking metaphor whose relevance cuts across many facets of life one that deserves our attention today.
Haven’t we all been there? Pushing a broken-down car, hoping it’ll start. Holding on to a relationship long past its sell-by date. Pouring money into a failing business because “we’ve come this far.” It’s only human to resist letting go. But sometimes, the truth is painfully simple when the horse is dead, it’s dead. Get off.
In homes, boardrooms, classrooms, relationshipsm and yes, even at the highest levels of government—many of us are still trying to ride dead horses. The Dead Horse Theory is a thought-provoking reflection of one of the most widespread but least addressed issues in our society—clinging to what no longer works.
We often tell ourselves “it’s not over yet”—that if we just try a little harder, things might turn around. But this mindset isn’t always inspired by hope or perseverance. More often, it’s denial—a refusal to accept that something we once believed in, invested in, or loved no longer works. We become emotionally tied to our past efforts, convinced that abandoning them means those efforts were wasted. But clinging to what no longer serves us isn’t being resilient it’s resistance to reality.
In Eswatini and beyond, this mindset shows up in both minor and significant ways from outdated policies and stalled projects to strained marriages and stagnant careers. Perhaps this very conversation gives us the opportunity to take a closer look at what we’re holding on to that no longer serves us—and, more importantly, why.
DENIAL IN FULL GALLOP
What should we do when the horse is dead? You’d think the obvious answer would be to stop riding and make plans to bury it. But no—we double down. If it’s in an organisation, we call in consultants. We repaint the stable. We replace the jockey, the CEO, the HOD, the coach—because maybe, just maybe, a new person in charge will make the horse move.
We form committees and launch task teams to investigate the circumstances surrounding the ‘horse’s death’. We entertain suggestions—however far-fetched—that the horse might be resurrected through prayer or some other intervention. We do everything except face the uncomfortable truth—the horse is dead. Does this sound familiar?
CARRYING DEAD WOOD?
In the workplace, we often keep unproductive employees in roles they’ve outgrown, hoping that a motivational workshop or reshuffling will spark change. In government, we continue pumping funds into initiatives that haven’t borne fruit in years—trusting the slogans we’ve created to inspire hope, rather than relying on measurable results.
It’s not that people circling around the dead horse are foolish—they certainly are not. The challenge is that letting go feels like losing. But the cost of clinging to dead weight is far greater—in time, money, energy, and missed opportunity.
As an example, this perhaps reflects our reality in Eswatini when it comes to our education system. We continue to reshape it—tweaking here, adjusting there—in the hope that it will somehow spring back to life. But at some point, we must confront the truth—it’s time for a new horse. No matter how much we value what the old system once achieved, its time has passed.
ESCALATION OF COMMITMENT
This conversation today is about recognising when the horse is dead—and dismounting quickly. But instead of dismounting, we often engage in what psychologists call “escalation of commitment.”
We convince ourselves that if we just change the leader or the jockey the results will improve. When that doesn’t work, we throw money at the problem new tools, new software, new training programmes, even shiny office furniture.
It is common to accept expensive gifts and grand gestures from abusive partners, as though dressing up the situation will somehow change its essence. Sometimes, we drown the issue in process, analysing what may have caused the problem.
In the most extreme cases, we twist reality itself. We say, “It’s not that bad.” We redefine what “dead” means. Of an abusive partner, we say, “He’s a good person—just not when he’s angry.” We shift the goalposts, create new metrics, and lower our standards and expectations—all to justify our refusal to let go.
But let’s not deceive ourselves—you cannot turn stagnation into progress with superficial fixes. At some point, tough decisions must be made—and these begin with the courage to admit that what we’re doing is no longer working.
A NATIONAL HORSE IN DECLINE?
At a national level, Eswatini must also ask—what dead horses are we still riding? Is it our slow-paced economic reforms that lag behind our regional neighbours? Is it the public sector inefficiencies that drain taxpayer funds while essential services remain under-delivered? Could it be the outdated belief that young people must “wait their turn” to lead, even as the country urgently needs their innovation and energy?
At the same time, it’s important to be cautious—the Dead Horse Theory is not about discarding what still works. Disrupting effective systems just for the sake of something new can be equally harmful. The message is not about change for its own sake—but about recognising when something has truly run its course, and having the courage to let it go.
MATTERS OF THE HEART
On a personal level, many of us remain trapped in relationships that no longer bring peace, joy, or growth. Even when we feel the disconnect, the emotional exhaustion, the absence of love we don’t leave. Instead, we double down. We go to counselling alone.
We read self-help books, hoping they’ll resuscitate something that’s clearly lifeless. We silence our needs, shrink ourselves, and sacrifice our truth trying to breathe life into something that’s already gone cold.
We stay because of the years invested, the children involved, the fear of being alone, or the belief that loyalty equals endurance. Some convince themselves that suffering is noble—even as the relationship slowly erodes their self-worth, mental health, and in some tragic cases, exposes them to physical danger.
When we walk away from what no longer serves us, we create space—for healing, for growth, and for new beginnings. In my view, the sooner we begin to see personal relationships through this lens, the closer we’ll come to turning the tide against gender-based violence in Eswatini and across the globe.
PIVOT OR PERISH
In business, riding dead horses can be especially unwise. Imagine continuing to pour money into a product the market has already rejected—simply because it was your idea and you can’t let go?
Many small businesses in Eswatini don’t fail due to lack of effort, but because they refuse to pivot when the writing is on the wall. If your business model, strategy, or leadership approach is no longer working, the answer isn’t to push harder—it’s to change direction.
THE POWER OF THE DISMOUNT
So, how do you know when the horse is truly dead? Repeated failure, frustration, and exhaustion despite your best efforts are major red flags. If something continues to drain your time, money, and energy without progress, no matter how hard you try, that’s your sign.
Stagnation is another. When there’s no growth, no innovation, no forward movement and the only thing keeping you there is fear, not purpose or passion you’re riding a dead horse.
What should you do? First, be honest. Name the truth. Stop sugar-coating. Then allow yourself to grieve especially if it was something you once cared deeply about or had high hopes for. After that, redirect your energy into something that’s alive. Something with possibility. Something with a future.
PROGRESS DEMANDS COURAGE
Progress isn’t about blind loyalty to the past it’s about our realistic commitment to the future. We once relied on ox-drawn carts and steam engines to move forward.
They served us well in their time, but we didn’t cling to them when faster, better ways emerged. We adapted. We grew.
While we honour the past, let’s be careful not to get stuck in it. Growth comes when we realise it’s time to move on. Whether you’re a corporate leader, a business owner, a civil servant, a teacher, a parent—or a young person deciding your next move—ask yourself: “Am I holding on to something that no longer works?”
If the answer is yes, then maybe it’s time. Time to stop pushing. Time to stop being sentimental.
Time to dismount. Time to choose what’s alive.
Until next week,
God bless!
