For the past few months, the mobile game I play here and there has been offering the same promotion: some virtual gold for twenty bucks. Each month, I found myself contemplating on at least a few occasions if I'd like to buy it or not. It's not the price that I was contemplating, but the principal of knowing the true value is zero. Either way, I ended up buying it each time anyways, but each time I wished I hadn't spent as much time thinking about it.
My mindset shifted this latest month. Instead of letting this trivial decision occupy my thoughts for another three weeks, I just bought it. The relief was immediate and surprisingly profound. It made me realize I'd been paying what I now think of as a "decision tax": the hidden mental cost of carrying around unresolved choices.
Every undecided decision takes up space in our minds. Like browser tabs left open on a computer, they continue running in the background, quietly draining our mental energy even when we're focused elsewhere. There are often very many of relatable decisions similar to this one. The dinner reservation that dominated the group chat for days while debating with friends between three restaurants. The book that sat in my online cart for weeks while I read reviews and wondered if I’d actually finish it. In each case, the mental energy I spent deciding far exceeded the actual importance of the choice.
Dale Carnegie once wrote that "inaction breeds doubt and fear, while action breeds confidence and courage." The longer I waited to decide about those virtual coins, the more complicated the decision became. What started as a simple yes-or-no morphed into unnecessessarily complicated thoughts about spending habits, priorities, and financial responsibility.
Jeff Bezos also has a useful framework for decisions: one-way doors and two-way doors. One-way doors are irreversible and deserve careful thought, sometimes for days or weeks. Two-way doors can be walked back or more easily corrected. My game purchase was clearly a two-way door. If I regretted spending that dollar, I could simply not buy it again next month. Yet I treated it with the weight of a more serious decision, until lately.
There’s something paradoxical about how our desire for perfect choices leads us to overthink decisions that don’t really matter. We tell ourselves that more deliberation leads to better outcomes, but for many everyday choices, our first instinct is usually pretty reliable. Meanwhile, all that prolonged decision-making clouds our judgment and drains energy we need for the choices that do matter.
I'm learning to accept that not every decision needs to be perfect. Sometimes "good enough" truly is good enough, especially when the alternative is weeks of mental overhead. That few bucks that I spent on virtual gold ended up buying me something more valuable than game currency: peace of mind and a clear mind.
The crux of this discussion is about being intentional with which decisions deserve our attention. Now when I face a choice, I try to ask myself how much mental energy it will this consume if left undecided? What's the real downside if I'm wrong?
For life’s big choices including career moves, relationships, and major purchases, careful consideration certianly pays off. However; for the countless small, and many medium, decisions that fill our days, the cost of indecision often outweighs the cost of imperfection.
The next time you're carrying around an unresolved decision, consider whether you're paying a decision tax that's higher than the choice itself warrants. Ask if your mental energy could be better spent elsewhere. Sometimes the best choice is not the perfect one, but the one that lets you move forward and focus on what really matters.