Wrong Ends, Wrong Means?

A Per­so­nal Reflec­tion on Decis­i­on-Making and Reg­ret

In the past few weeks, we explo­red various psy­cho­lo­gi­cal con­cepts rela­ted to decis­i­on-making. We exami­ned theo­ries, dis­cus­sed case stu­dies, and reflec­ted on how psy­cho­lo­gi­cal know­ledge can be appli­ed to real-world sce­na­ri­os to impro­ve choices and avo­id pit­falls. Much of the lite­ra­tu­re focu­sed on high-sta­kes decis­i­ons, cases whe­re instinct, mis­jud­ged signals, or soma­tic mar­kers led to poor out­co­mes. But as I enga­ged with the­se ide­as, I found mys­elf thin­king about the more ordi­na­ry decis­i­ons we all make. Ever­y­day choices that may not make head­lines but still shape our lives in meaningful ways. When the­se decis­i­ons don’t go as plan­ned, are they tru­ly “wrong”?

Right or…Wrong?

Living in Swe­den meant I had to learn Swe­dish. I enrol­led in Svens­ka för invan­dra­re (Sfi), whe­re one day our tea­cher explai­ned how to give and under­stand direc­tions. She drew a model of a city on the white­board to illus­tra­te her point. She show­ed us how to take a “gen­väg” (short­cut) to reach a desti­na­ti­on quick­ly. Curious, I asked what the oppo­si­te of a short­cut would be. She smi­led and said, “omväg” (detour), and star­ted dra­wing a win­ding rou­te that loo­ped across her city map – left, right, up, and down – until it final­ly rea­ched the desti­na­ti­on.

Befo­re I could respond, my class­ma­te to the right laug­hed and said, “Well, that looks like the sto­ry of my life!” I had the same thought, and befo­re I could say any­thing, our tea­cher nod­ded and laug­hed, too. I added, “Well, at least you’ve seen ever­y­thing!”

That moment struck me. Loo­king at the ink-scat­te­red map, I rea­li­zed how often our lives take the “umväg”. The­se detours, full of twists and turns, might seem like being built on wrong and inef­fec­ti­ve decis­i­ons. But though they might not be effi­ci­ent – they are per­so­nal. They are ours. They include ever­y­thing we’ve seen, ever­y­thing we’ve done, and ever­y­thing we’ve lear­ned along the way. It made me won­der whe­ther we can tru­ly label a decis­i­on “wrong” [2] just becau­se it didn’t take us on the most direct rou­te (some­ti­mes not even to your desi­red goal).

But let’s be honest – embra­cing that idea isn’t always easy. As humans, we often default to dicho­to­mous thin­king: good vs. bad, easy vs. difficult…right vs. wrong. When a decis­i­on leads to an unex­pec­ted or dis­ap­poin­ting out­co­me, we tend to replay it in our minds. We ima­gi­ne what could have been, crea­ting sce­na­ri­os whe­re ever­y­thing might have tur­ned out bet­ter if only, we had cho­sen dif­fer­ent­ly. And that is whe­re reg­ret comes in. We will take a deeper look at this and also loo­king at solu­ti­ons for this phe­no­me­non.

If Only…

The Cana­di­an psy­cho­lo­gist Neal Roese has writ­ten exten­si­ve­ly about this phe­no­me­non, known as coun­ter­fac­tu­al thin­king. In his book “If Only…”, Roese explains how we con­s­truct men­tal alter­na­ti­ves to rea­li­ty [5]. He descri­bes two pri­ma­ry types: upward coun­ter­fac­tu­als (“I almost…”) and down­ward coun­ter­fac­tu­als (“At least…”). Upward coun­ter­fac­tu­als tend to focus on missed oppor­tu­ni­ties and bet­ter ima­gi­ned out­co­mes. Down­ward coun­ter­fac­tu­als help us feel gra­teful by com­pa­ring our cur­rent situa­ti­on to worse pos­si­bi­li­ties.

While occa­sio­nal coun­ter­fac­tu­al thoughts can be hel­pful, espe­ci­al­ly when they lead to lear­ning or moti­va­ti­on, exces­si­ve thin­king can beco­me bur­den­so­me. Stu­dies sug­gest that con­stant upward thin­king is lin­ked with dete­rio­ra­ti­on of men­tal health: Peo­p­le who suf­fer from depres­si­on are more likely to expe­ri­ence upward coun­ter­fac­tu­als. But it also works in the other direc­tion and here rumi­na­ti­on is a key as it is lin­ked to emo­tio­nal distress. Indi­vi­du­als beco­me trap­ped in nega­ti­ve thought loops, rumi­na­te over past decis­i­ons, fos­ter fee­lings of hel­p­less­ness and self-cri­ti­cism ins­tead of growth and self-com­pas­si­on, making them more vul­nerable to deve­lop depres­si­ve sym­ptoms. This psy­cho­lo­gi­cal mecha­nism plays a key role in our emo­tio­nal expe­ri­ence of reg­ret. Gilo­vich and Med­vec (1995) descri­be reg­ret as both cogni­ti­ve and emo­tio­nal – a reac­tion to the gap bet­ween what is and what might have been. It invol­ves sor­row, dis­ap­point­ment, and often self-blame…especially short term. But inte­res­t­ingly, their rese­arch reve­a­led a deeper insight: when peo­p­le reflect on their lives over the long term, they tend to reg­ret their inac­tions more than their actions.

The Road not Taken…

In one stu­dy invol­ving older adults, 75% repor­ted that they reg­ret­ted the things they did not do – the risks not taken, the words not spo­ken, the paths not explo­red. The­se missed chan­ces often lin­ger lon­ger than any reg­ret for a mista­ke made or a fai­led attempt. As Gilo­vich and Med­vec con­cluded, “When peo­p­le look back on their lives, it is the things they have not done that gene­ra­te the grea­test reg­ret.” So, what can we do about this? For­t­u­na­te­ly, the­re are ways to mana­ge reg­ret and harness it con­s­truc­tively [3][4].

Lear­ning to Live With “If Only” and Tur­ning Reg­ret Into Growth

Roese (2005) offers seve­ral prac­ti­cal stra­te­gies for mana­ging reg­ret and redu­cing the emo­tio­nal toll of coun­ter­fac­tu­al thin­king:

  • Don’t Over­re­act: Resist the urge to with­draw from future oppor­tu­ni­ties just becau­se of a past mista­ke. Avo­i­ding risk can lead to sta­gna­ti­on and more reg­ret.
  • Think Down­ward: Cul­ti­va­te gra­ti­tu­de by ima­gi­ning how things could have tur­ned out worse. This per­spec­ti­ve shift can sof­ten fee­lings of dis­ap­point­ment.
  • Take Action: Try some­thing new, even if it might fail. In the long run, it’s inac­tion – not fai­led attempts – that peo­p­le reg­ret most.
  • View Reg­rets as Oppor­tu­ni­ties: Ins­tead of let­ting “if only…” thoughts trap you, use them as cues for whe­re growth and chan­ge are still pos­si­ble.

Making Sen­se

The­re is ano­ther, often over­loo­ked, dimen­si­on to reg­ret: sen­se-making. Even decis­i­ons that seem mis­gui­ded in hind­sight aren’t neces­s­a­ri­ly fail­ures. As human beings, we pos­sess a powerful capa­ci­ty for con­s­truc­ting mea­ning. Tur­ner et al. (2023) descri­be sen­se-making as a dyna­mic pro­cess through which we build, use, and reject infor­ma­ti­on to gui­de our actions. This pro­cess allows us to inter­pret ambi­guous or dis­ap­poin­ting results in a way that still sup­ports per­so­nal growth [6]. In other words, we don’t just react to decis­i­ons; we pro­cess them. We try to under­stand them, place them within a broa­der con­text, and extra­ct insight from them. This capa­ci­ty enables us to reframe what initi­al­ly felt like a mista­ke into some­thing that hel­ped us grow or led us some­whe­re unex­pec­ted.

Ref­raming Decis­i­ons and Their Results

You can actively enhan­ce this sen­se-making pro­cess by prac­ti­cing ref­raming, also cal­led cogni­ti­ve res­truc­tu­ring. Which is a tech­ni­que from cogni­ti­ve-beha­vi­oral the­ra­py that invol­ves iden­ti­fy­ing and chal­len­ging nega­ti­ve thought pat­terns [1]. Ins­tead of inter­pre­ting a past decis­i­on as a “fail­ure”, ref­raming encou­ra­ges you to ask: What did I learn? What strengths did I dis­co­ver? What new path did this open up? This isn’t about sug­ar­coa­ting dis­ap­point­ment. It’s about reco­gni­zing that you have agen­cy in how you inter­pret your expe­ri­en­ces. By ref­raming, you can redu­ce the emo­tio­nal sting of reg­ret and trans­form it into a sto­ry of resi­li­ence, insight, and growth.

If you want to explo­re this idea fur­ther and if you want to know more about how ref­raming works read Tabu­la Rasa.

Final Note on Decis­i­on-Making

Reg­ret can be pain­ful. It can make us ques­ti­on our past, our judgment, and even our self-worth. But it can also teach us. It can high­light what mat­ters most. The important thing to remem­ber is you don’t know how the alter­na­ti­ve would have unfold­ed!

The goal you ima­gi­ned might not have brought hap­pi­ness. The path you didn’t take may have held its own set­backs. What mat­ters is what you do now. Focus on what your decis­i­ons have taught you, what they may have pre­ven­ted, and what unex­pec­ted joys they may have made pos­si­ble. After all, the detour might not be the fas­test way to the desti­na­ti­on – but it might just be the most scenic one.

Refe­ren­ces

[1 ] Beck, A. T. (1976). Cogni­ti­ve the­ra­py and the emo­tio­nal dis­or­ders. New York: Inter­na­tio­nal Uni­ver­si­ties Press.

[2] Depe­che Mode. (2009). Wrong. From Sounds of the Uni­ver­se. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhnrrLxQEVQ

[3] Gilo­vich, T., & Med­vec, V. H. (1995). The expe­ri­ence of reg­ret: What, when, and why. Psy­cho­lo­gi­cal Review, 102(2), 379–395. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/15459284_The_Experience_of_Regret_What_When_and_Why

[4] Gilo­vich, T., Wang, R. F., Regan, D. T., & Nis­hi­na, S. (2003). Reg­rets of action and inac­tion across cul­tures. Jour­nal of Cross-Cul­tu­ral Psy­cho­lo­gy, 34(1), 61–71. https://doi.org/10.1177/0022022102239155

[5] Roese, N. J. (2005). If Only: How to Turn Reg­ret Into Oppor­tu­ni­ty. Broad­way Books.

[6] Tur­ner, J.R., Allen, J., Hawam­deh, S., & Mast­an­a­m­ma, G. (2023). The Mul­ti­face­ted Sen­se­ma­king Theo­ry: A Sys­te­ma­tic Lite­ra­tu­re Review and Con­tent Ana­ly­sis on Sen­se­ma­king. Sys­tems, 11(3), 145. https://doi.org/10.3390/systems11030145

Tags: