The Door Left Open

Goodyear

If the bus still ran, somebody would close that door. Vehicles in use get locked, checked, and looked after, however roughly. The moment care stops, the door was the first thing left open, not because anyone decided to abandon it, but because nobody thought it was worth the effort anymore.

The irony here is the Goodyear logo on the truck beside it, a brand built on the promise of things made to keep moving, mile after mile, built to last. But there is always a moment, a shift that is rarely conscious, when something stops receiving the attention that once kept it functioning. What follows is an accumulation of small choices not to bother, each one reasonable on its own, each one confirming that this no longer deserves the care it once had.

Once that shift happens, decline accelerates. The open door lets in the weather. The neglect compounds the neglect. What might have continued indefinitely with a small amount of ongoing attention instead collapses faster than anyone expected.

The same pattern plays out in careers, relationships, and organisations. Nobody decides to let something fail. They simply stop closing the door, one small omission at a time, until the absence of care becomes its own kind of decision.

What have you stopped closing the door on without quite deciding to?

David R. Smith