Regret is that twist in our guts when we look back on a decision and wish we had made a better one. It is sometimes even accompanied by despair and an “if only I could rewind time…” Whether it is a missed opportunity, an awkward conversation, or a poor judgment, we often find ourselves imagining how things could have turned out differently. We tell ourselves that we could have known better, that we could have acted differently, or that a better choice was always within our reach. However, such feelings are based on an arrogant assumption that our past selves were capable of making the same judgments we can make today.
When we regret a decision, we evaluate it from the perspective of the present. With the benefit of hindsight, our mistakes can seem embarrassingly obvious. We often assume that had we thought a little more carefully or had a little more restraint, we could have avoided the undesired outcome altogether. However, this reasoning overlooks the fact that our past selves did not possess the knowledge that our current selves have. It’s like thinking about the alternate reality where you pull a rock instead of a paper after losing in the game.
This became particularly apparent to me during a competition this past weekend. Since there were warm-up rooms available at the venue, I could have arrived earlier than I did to give myself some time. However, I told myself that I could practice just a little longer at home. I didn’t imagine a few more minutes at home could hurt, and that those extra few minutes could improve my performance. By the time I had actually left, those few minutes had turned into tens. Even worse, rain had started to increase the traffic, and I nearly arrived late. I was left with almost no time to warm up, forcing me to perform with stiff, cold fingers. I don’t want to solely blame my cold fingers, but I did underperform more than usual, though the results fortunately turned out well. Nevertheless, I found myself regretting those extra minutes at home. Had I left earlier, I could have warmed up properly and felt more comfortable before performing. Perhaps I could have gotten even better results with that warm-up time.
Looking back, leaving earlier was the obvious choice. But was it really so obvious at the time? I had no way of knowing how heavily it would rain. I also had a reason for staying, though that reason eventually became the source of regret. With the outcome already known, it is easy to dismiss that previous decision as foolish. Yet doing so means overlooking the uncertainty and nerves I faced when getting ready for an important competition. It would be unfair to judge my past self by the information I have now.
In this way, regret can become a form of arrogance. It assumes that our past selves would have been able to anticipate outcomes that only become clear afterward. A few of the reasons why I was late include not checking the weather app, preparing for the best-case outcome of light traffic rather than the worst-case scenario, and being too greedy about those extra few minutes. With the knowledge of the future, I now know not to make those same mistakes. I was less mature than I am now with this experience. Thus, regret stems from arrogantly overestimating how much control and foresight we actually had.
Of course, this does not mean that regret is entirely useless. Looking back on our decisions allows us to recognize mistakes and make better decisions in the future. I now know that I should leave earlier for a competition, especially when there’s potential for unpredictable weather. More importantly, I can acknowledge that staying home longer was a risk I chose to take. But there is a difference between learning from the past and punishing ourselves for it. Reflection allows us to carry experience forward, while remaining in that negative emotion traps us in an alternative version of events that we can never go back to.
Perhaps the problem is not that we regret our decisions, but that we expect too much from the people we used to be. We cannot give our past selves the knowledge we have today, nor can we expect them to act with the certainty that knowledge of the future provides. There is no point in endlessly imagining how much better things could have ended. Instead, the only task that remains is to focus on what those experiences can teach us. After all, the purpose of looking back should not be to prove that our past selves were foolish, but to give our future selves a better chance.
