Decisions are increasingly being made on our behalf. There’s comfort in this. And yet, it doesn’t feel quite right, does it?
When I was a child, our extended family would often gather at a local restaurant to celebrate special occasions. My grandfather would never look at the menu. The waitress would hand it to him, he would thank her, and then quietly place it on the table. I asked him once why he never took advantage of scouting out all the options. His response was that my grandmother already knew what he wanted to eat and would order for him. This, to the best of my memory, was his tried-and-true method for getting exactly the meal he desired. It always seemed to work.
For a long time, I thought it an exceedingly odd approach. I’ve come to understand it much more, though, as time has gone on and restaurant menus have expanded in size and scope. I’m becoming my grandfather, and have found myself losing patience with reading menus that are as long as a victorian novel. The choices are too varied. Even when I finally choose, I know the waiter is going to ask the inevitable follow-up questions about every excruciating detail. I just want to tell him to go ahead and let the cook choose what’s best and I’ll happily eat it. I’ve actually tried going into coffee shops and asking for “your best drink,” but that seems to mildly annoy the baristas who don’t want the responsibility of accidentally recommending a drink I don’t like. I’ve assured them that I won’t hold any grudges but they’re never convinced.
Perhaps this is why so many of us develop a favorite drink or meal to habitually order. It’s so much easier than having to back through the whole menu and choose something different every time. It’s comforting to have fewer choices, and so much more congenial to stride into the coffeeshop confidently, like a pro, and proudly announce to the barista, “I’ll have a quad latte, please, with whole milk” (I’m addicted to caffeine). The bonus, now that I’ve been married long enough, is that, in a pinch, my wife really and truly does know exactly what to order for me.
It’s a luxury to have our choices narrowed down. Perhaps this is why we’ve convinced ourselves to delegate our choices to an algorithm. Like a spouse who knows us inside and out, the algorithm predicts exactly what we want and takes care of it with no fuss. The future is frictionless. No choices need be made. Music and television playlists autoplay. Book recommendations and online shopping seamlessly insert suggestions - “If you like this, you’ll probably also like this …” - Perhaps, soon enough, grocery store apps and vacation apps and clothing apps will be able to deliver exactly what we want without any input at all from us, maybe even before we knew we even wanted the item.
Decisions are increasingly being made on our behalf. There’s comfort in this. And yet, it doesn’t feel quite right, does it?
Having too many options is paralyzing but no one really wants to give away all their decision-making. The algorithm seems useful, but as much as it scours our search histories and past, the recommendations are never quite right. They empty all the surprise out of life. No more unexpected discoveries or delights. No adventure. No variety. If I never made a decision again, I think I would miss the experience of even bumbling into the occasional bad decision. After all, as G.K. Chesterton says, adventures are merely inconveniences rightly considered, and sometimes the best memories are made in the most unexpected of ways. If ordering a new coffee drink that I end up not liking is the price to pay for making my own decisions, that’s a circumstance I’m willing to accept. If I have the occasional tale of woe and disaster to share with my friends, isn’t that part of the fun of life?
But what if deciding really is hard?
This being the case, the question remains, in the face of overwhelming options, how can we actually stop worrying and make a decision?
I know people who are constitutionally unable to make any decision whatsoever, and I’m talking about way more important choices than a restaurant order. There are people who cannot decide if they should get married, what career to pursue, or where to live. They’re overwhelmed by options. They get nervous and second-guess themselves. They go back and forth making endless comparisons. The opportunity cost of choosing one thing over another is paralyzing. They ask for advice and then disregard it and then ask for more advice. They worry about making a mistake or experiencing regret. They cannot prioritize. In the end, nothing is decided.

Before someone else (or some thing) steps in and makes the decisions for us, here are a few thoughts about how to overcome the tyranny of overwhelming choices in order to become the sort of person who makes decisions.
1Know who you are
If the problem is one of abundance because there are too many options, then navigating through it all is going to require a confident sense of self. Having a strong sense of what kind of person you want to be, what you like, and what sort of life you want to live helps narrow down the options.
2Properly order all the information
In order to be a confident decision-maker, order the options by relative importance. A lot of smaller decisions simply aren’t worth getting worked up about, so go ahead and risk a new meal from the restaurant, or feel free to eat what you’ve always eaten and enjoyed, or just have your spouse order for you. If decision-making causes exhaustion, make the bigger decisions first when you have more focus and energy and don’t become fatigued by the small ones.
3(Perhaps) practice with smaller decisions
That said, perhaps you’re a particularly indecisive person and don’t know yet what you want when it comes to some major decisions. Go ahead and practice with the small ones. Learn how to make a choice and not regret it. Discover how even making the wrong choice is an opportunity to gather information to make better choices going forward or to discover something new about yourself. Go into the coffee shop, look at the whole menu, and confidently announce the drink you want.
4Remember that not taking action is still a decision
I want to point out that not taking action can still be a deliberate decision. We don’t always have do something right away. But be sure it’s a conscious decision and not inaction caused by the paralysis of exhaustion. We might choose to not take action for any number of reasons. Perhaps there are no satisfactory options available, more information is needed first, or the best course of action is to allow events to play about a bit more. A person who is decisive isn’t necessarily a person who acts impulsively and quickly.
There are so many people and things that are eager to make our decisions for us, but it simply won’t do to give away those choices. Our decisions, over time, form our personality and shape our lives. So I say, make decisions thoughtfully and confidently. Only you get to decide who you are going to be.












