The Power of Regret: How Looking Backward Moves Us Forward

by Daniel H. Pink

So, drawing on the science of self-compassion, the second step in transforming our regrets is to ask ourselves three questions: If a friend or relative came to you with the same regret as yours, would you treat that person with kindness or contempt? If your answer is kindness, use that approach on yourself. If your answer is contempt, try a different answer. Is this type of regret something that other people might have endured, or are you the only person ever to have experienced it? If you believe your stumble is part of our common humanity, reflect on that belief, as it’s almost always true. If you believe the world has it out for you alone, please reread Chapters 7–10. Does this regret represent an unpleasant moment in your life, or does it define your life? Again, if you believe it’s worth being aware of the regret but not overidentifying with it, you’re on your way. If you believe this regret fully constitutes who you are, ask someone else what they think. These three questions, which form the heart of self-compassion, bring us to the last step of the process.

Shifting from the immersive act of recounting to the more distanced act of reconstruing regulates our emotions and redirects behavior. As a result, self-distancing strengthens thinking,[30] enhances problem-solving skills,[31] deepens wisdom,[32] and even reduces the elevated blood pressure that often accompanies stressful situations.[33]

one study showed that prompting people to consider how they might feel about a negative situation in ten years reduced their stress and enhanced their problem-solving capabilities compared to contemplating what the situation would be like in a week.[37]

Kross, Ayduk, and others have carried out some fascinating research concluding that “subtle shifts in the language people use to refer to themselves during introspection can influence their capacity to regulate how they think, feel, and behave under stress.” [40] When we abandon the first person in talking to ourselves, the distance that creates can help us recast threats as challenges and replace distress with meaning.

So, to gain the benefits of self-distancing, try any of the following: Imagine your best friend is confronting the same regret that you’re dealing with. What is the lesson that the regret teaches them? What would you tell them to do next? Be as specific as you can. Now follow your own advice. Imagine that you are a neutral expert—a doctor of regret sciences—analyzing your regret in a clean, pristine examination room. What is your diagnosis? Explain in clinical terms what went wrong. Next, what is your prescription? Now write an email to yourself—using your first name and the pronoun “you”—outlining the small steps you need to learn from the regret. If your regret involves your business or career, try a technique from the late Intel CEO Andy Grove, who reportedly would ask himself, “If I were replaced tomorrow, what would my successor do?” [46] Imagine it is ten years from now and you’re looking back with pride on how you responded to this regret. What did you do?

Regret is a retrospective emotion. It springs into being when we look backward. But we can also use it prospectively and proactively—to gaze into the future, predict what we will regret, and then reorient our behavior based on our forecast.

In general, we find the pain of losing something greater than the pleasure of gaining the equivalent thing—so we go to extraordinary (and often irrational) lengths to avoid losses.

The anticipated inaction regret of not getting vaccinated, and thus endangering oneself and others, was a more powerful force in prompting people to get vaccinated than even factors like what one’s peers and family had chosen to do.[6]

Anticipating regret offers a convenient tool for judgment. In situations where you’re unsure of your next move, ask yourself, “In the future, will I regret this decision if I don’t do X?” Answer the question. Apply that answer to your current situation.

Anticipating our regrets, we’ve seen, can improve our health, help us become billionaires, and earn the affection of survey-distributing college librarians. It is a powerful medicine.

minimizing regret is not the same as minimizing risk. And if we don’t anticipate properly, we end up making the regret-minimizing choice rather than the risk-minimizing choice.

Our goal should not be to always minimize regret. Our goal should be to optimize it.

If our lives are the stories we tell ourselves, regret reminds us that we have a dual role. We are both the authors and the actors. We can shape the plot but not fully. We can toss aside the script but not always. We live at the intersection of free will and circumstance.

If we think about regret like this—looking backward to move forward, seizing what we can control and putting aside what we cannot, crafting our own redemption stories—it can be liberating.

Regret makes me human. Regret makes me better. Regret gives me hope.