The Power of Regret: How Looking Backward Moves Us Forward

by Daniel H. Pink

Rather than belittling or berating ourselves during moments of frustration and failure, we’re better off extending ourselves the same warmth and understanding we’d offer another person. Self-compassion begins by replacing searing judgment with basic kindness. It doesn’t ignore our screwups or neglect our weaknesses. It simply recognizes that “being imperfect, making mistakes, and encountering life difficulties is part of the shared human experience.”

After self-disclosure relieves the burden of carrying a regret, and self-compassion reframes the regret as a human imperfection rather than an incapacitating flaw, self-distancing helps you analyze and strategize—to examine the regret dispassionately without shame or rancor and to extract from it a lesson that can guide your future behavior.

In 2016, DUL sent half of Duke’s six thousand undergraduates a survey and told them that if they completed and returned it, they’d be entered into a raffle for a $75 gift card. The other three thousand students also received an email with the survey. But the accompanying rules were different. Everybody would be entered in a raffle for a $75 gift card. But if the organizers drew someone’s name and that person had not completed the survey, he would be ineligible for the prize and the organizers would select another name. Which approach yielded the most survey responses? It wasn’t even close. Within a week, only one-third of the students in the first group had completed the survey, but two-thirds of the students in the second group had done so.[2] The first instance was a good old-fashioned raffle. The second was what behavioral economists have come to call a “regret lottery.”

However, with a regret lottery, I evaluate my decision differently. If the organizers draw my name, and I haven’t completed the survey, I know I’ll kick myself. I can readily envision a future where I win the prize—but the gift card is snatched from my hands because of my own stupidity, laziness, or lack of effort. And if I anticipate that sinking feeling, I’ll proceed like two-thirds of those Blue Devils and complete the questionnaire.

One problem with using anticipated regrets as a decision-making tool is that we’re pretty bad at predicting the intensity and duration of our emotions.

But then he introduced a wrinkle. He told buyers that shortly after they made their decision, he’d reveal how an independent consumer magazine rated the two choices. With that promise in the air, the buyers grew cautious. More people—two-thirds, in fact—selected the name brand. People anticipated greater regret if they departed from the status quo (opting for the recognized brand) and then learned it was the wrong decision.[25] So, to bypass that unpleasant sensation, the buyers played it safe. They became less concerned with making the smarter choice and tried to make the less regrettable choice—and those aren’t always the same.

After leaving the electronics store, you buy a $1 ticket for tomorrow evening’s $80 million Powerball drawing. As it happens, I’ve also bought a Powerball ticket. And I decide to make you a deal. I offer to trade you my ticket for yours—and give you $3 for it. Would you accept? Of course, you should. And, of course, you won’t. Both of our tickets have an equal chance of winning. If you make the exchange, your odds of winning Powerball remain identical and extremely remote. But you’ll now have three more dollars than before. It’s a no-brainer!