The empty seats are worth $40,000

Data from a cult online course that required us to complete daily tasks.

What if I told you that 80% of the people who paid $500 for an online course never completed it?

Chances are, if you are a serial course junkie like me, you are likely to be nodding eagerly as you think back to any online course you might have taken in the name of self-improvement.

At the end of 2024, I received a newsletter that asked participants to sign up for a 3-week course that required daily accountability exercises. I was riding on the new year new me vibes, and signed up with $500.

What I observed was interesting but not surprising.

The Ghost Student Phenomenon

The course rules laid out expectations of what the next 21 days would look like. Everyone had to login every single day and make a short post to prove that they had completed the day's task. The task is usually extremely simple, I could get it done in 10 minutes if I focused with no distractions. It was a task we could do anywhere, on our commute, on a walk, and so on.

Here's what the numbers showed:

• 151 participants paid $500 specifically for this course

• 77 of them (51%) completed day 1’s task

• Only 47 (31%) completed day 21’s task

• Only 30 (20%) showed up daily (which was the point of the course)

The course generated $75.5k in revenue purely from one-time customers alone.

But let this sink in, 50% of people pulled out their credit cards, paid $500 but never showed up from day 1. I don't blame course providers for wanting to do more courses, that's nearly $40k earnings from putting up a sign up page.

The statistics were even worse for people who purchased the course as part of the course bundle (these people were excluded from my statistics above):

• 75% completed day 1’s task

• 28% completed day 21’s task

• A mere 10% showed up daily

I don't have details about how the bundle works, and it's hard to comment without knowing whether there is marginal investment needed to join the course. The numbers make a lot of sense if there was no marginal investment needed.

Because no pain, no gain. Right?

The expectations-reality mismatch

I think back to the day I signed up for the course. The act of signing up and pulling up the credit card already gave an immediate sense of accomplishment, I got a dopamine hit just from paying.

It's therefore not surprising that our brains make us feel that we have become better just from clicking the box that says "take my money".

But reality hit when the real work began. Going through hours of course materials and doing the homework was no fun. There was no dopamine there until you actually finished the work every day.

And that's when excuses start. There's always work, family, emergencies. But let's be real, it's statistically unlikely that 80% of people have emergencies on the same day, and even less likely that a series of emergencies can take them away from the course for 3 weeks.

I did face a moment about a quarter of the way into the course where I was sure I would give up. The course was nothing like what was promised and I was disappointed with the quality of the instruction and materials.

It was 11pm, I was watching a course recording, wondering if I was wasting my time.

Abandoning the course is abandoning yourself

I have gone down the road of abandoned courses before. It started as early as COVID.

I spent years saying "I will do this next time". It was an identity that I quietly accepted, that I am too tired, too busy, too distracted to will myself to change. And worst of all, I allowed myself to believe that everyone else was like this too.

I started to resent the fact that I was someone who couldn't commit to something as simple as an online course that I could do from the comfort of my own home.

Beyond that, the worst part on hindsight was never experiencing what it took to progress in an infinite game. (I personally do not categorise my previous job as one, as it was a series of tasks to be completed daily regardless of whether you agree with the goal or not.)

The act of committing to a craft or a skill knowing that the journey doesn’t have a clear end is quite an experience in itself. There’s no ending marker, no sign that says “your race ends here”.

It is a crucial experience that is hardly exciting at the start, but it gets so much better the more you dig in.

I found out way too late, and I wish I started earlier.

What I would do the next time I waver

I am a huge fan of "control what you can control, and let go of the rest". In the context of this course, I could not control the fact that the course sucks and I would never spend another cent with the course provider again.

How did I maximise my learnings anyway?

1. Made a list of outcomes I want to pursue. For me, I wanted to get to know other people who were interested in writing memoir-styled articles or books, preferably on Substack

2. With this outcome in mind, I used the community group chats to reach out to people with good content, or people who seemed to know more people within the course. This helped me to find my way relatively quickly (3 weeks is a short time)

3. I set set aside time every 2 days to engage. Not just by starting new conversations, but actually taking time to turn existing ones into meaningful connections. I was not always successful (sometimes the chat doesn't go beyond hi, what do you do, how did you get here) and that's okay

4. After the course ended, I made sure to keep in touch and continue engaging with relevant content

I was happy to get to know people through the course, and it made up for the sub-par course materials. At the end of the day, I made the best out of what I had.

Looking forward

I am likely to be signing for more courses this year, with an overhaul on my course selection process to reduce risks of being victim to fake marketing promises again.

Course providers do get away with a lot especially if they have a large, cult following. There is little that an individual can do to get their money back even if there is evidence that there is misleading marketing. I accept that it is the reality of the world today, and I blame myself for being gullible.

That’s part and parcel of owning my growth. We get out there to seek resources that we need, hoping that we reach a eureka moment that propels us forward.

But the next time I hover over that "give me your money" button, I'll remember that a $500 payment doesn't guarantee transformation. It simply gets my foot in the door towards the growth I so badly crave. And all I have to do?

Continue showing up and never let a bad course be the excuse for remaining stagnant.

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This article is based on data from a single course. While the specific percentages vary across different types of courses, the pattern of significant drop-off is consistent with my personal observations across multiple online courses.