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Catch up on Choice Journals #1 and Choice Journals #2.
Efficiency is a Double-Edged Sword
You don’t need to think about most choices, so you don’t. Your brain takes care of that for you.
Conscious decisions repeated often enough embed themselves beneath awareness, becoming automatic, reflexive, and invisible. They seem to become how things are for you, or more accurately, how you are in relation to things.
For survival, this is essential. Imagine pausing to deliberate every action, thought, response, and belief as if it were a novel experience. Imagine considering which foot to place forward and at what speed and angle, analysing the best grip to turn a doorknob, or exploring every conceivable variation of your response when someone simply says, “Good Morning.” We’d be paralysed by indecision, unable to function because of the sheer volume of technically available choices. Fast, instinctive action kept our ancestors alive, and that’s why we’re here today.
But this automation is a double-edged sword. It has made our existence possible but doesn’t necessarily guarantee we thrive. We might be alive and live long enough to pass on survival traits, but we might not be living particularly well, given our potential to do so.
If someone were to examine a list of, say, 100,000 choices they made in a day, they’d realise a significant portion aren’t worth keeping. How many are instinctive, inherited, unexamined, and repeated purely out of habit? And, crucially, how many are actively working against them? Most choices pass unnoticed, even the detrimental ones, hidden in plain sight, yet they are tethered to a web of consequences that seem indistinguishable from spontaneous events.
One of the defining marks of human intelligence over other species is the ability to override impulse. We don’t have to follow our instincts, learned pathways, or even our own beliefs. We’re able to change, and considerably so.
That begins with knowing we can change, and that begins with recognising we’re always choosing.
Loop Cognizance
Automation is undeniably useful. It spares us from hesitation, wasting time, and expending unnecessary energy. But left unexamined, automation can make a person live the same year on repeat, mistaking it for a life.
The man hates his job but chooses to surrender five out of every seven of his finite days on Earth to it. Maybe more if he complains about it at the weekend. He knows he could upskill, apply elsewhere, switch industries, or change direction completely, but he doesn't. He chooses a narrative of why he can’t change and sticks to it, despite evidence to the contrary.
The smoker lights up to relieve stress, unaware that his choice to smoke is part of what creates it. His chest is always tight, his breath short, and walking uphill feels punishing. The taxi fares to the top of the hill keep adding up. The doctor says his cough could be getting serious. He doesn't get paid enough to keep up with these damn medical bills. “They’re all robbing bastards,” he moans, lighting another cigarette.
The procrastinator delays things to avoid discomfort, unaware he is choosing more discomfort later, with compound interest. Undone tasks pile up, making everything worse. The stress mounts up, so he lights up a smoke to relax.
The drinker blames his circumstances for his drinking behaviour, unaware that choosing to remain blameless and resentful keeps him in his trap. It’s his job or the stress or poor health or people taking his hard earned money or his crazy parents—one reason stacks onto another. He needs some reprieve from a world that does nothing but punish him. He looks forward to a drink at the end of a punishing day, but every day is punishing, so every day is a drinking day. That’s a big risk with an addictive substance, especially given that it doesn't solve any of the burdens— that he’s placing upon himself—that he longs to escape. But he tells himself he deserves a drink. Soon enough, he’ll believe he needs it to cope. A few turns further down that spiral, and he might need it in the morning, too.
Loops and spirals don’t persist on their own. They are ultimately based on choices—some are conscious, some not. But your choices are exactly that; they’re yours. You choose what you do or don’t do, and you live in a web of their the consequences.
To change, you don’t need to reprogram everything all at once. It starts with noticing. And then questioning. And then shifting. Even slightly. Even once. One shift can create the confidence and the possibility for another.
Steering Choices
Two amateur chess players sit in the annexe of a small town library, about to start a new game. On their board, right in front of them, is a universe of possibilities. There are more ways their game can unfold than anybody could ever consciously map out. But they don’t need to see every possibility. That would be humanly impossible and would certainly take the fun out of it.
They only need to know some rules. Some moves are legal, and others are not. Some moves are obviously better than others. Some are riskier, but maybe not immediately detrimental. Some seem insignificant but shift the game in ways they might not understand until later. The more they practice, the better they recognise patterns, apply logic, weigh up consequences, and refine their strategy.
Now, let’s step away from the chessboard and into real life.
If a board game can generate an unfathomable array of possibilities, then consider the vast complexity of choices in 24 hours of someone’s life. Each moment and each decision branches into a new realm of possible futures. But most choices go unnoticed and unexamined. We can habitually fall into unhelpful rhythms and observe the day’s events as though they are predetermined before we even get there— and effectively, they are because we predetermine them with our unexamined choices. We observe the reality we create, and it doesn't have to be a loop of the same unhelpful moves.
An agentic person approaches life differently. They step back and see themselves in two roles: the character inside their life, experiencing it, and the strategist who observes the bigger picture from above. They notice how their pieces connect, how daily choices form patterns, and how those patterns shape the present and the future. Sometimes, they’ll see how a sacrifice is a smarter move. That tit-for-tat exchanges don’t necessarily win games. That anger is rarely useful. They operate from a vantage point of third-person awareness.
When a situation arises, they pause and start to assess. They understand they have more than one move and start by eradicating the worst ones: the impulsive, instinctive, emotionally charged ones that escalate rather than improve. They don’t need to find the perfect move, just a better one than the first that came to mind. They might ask themself simple yet powerful questions: “What’s the best thing I can do right now?” or “What could I start doing to prepare myself for next time?” They don’t need all the answers, just better questions.
Agentic people don’t have a superpower. They still make mistakes. But they adjust. They elect behaviours rather than default to impulsive ones. They catch themselves making ineffective choices and upgrade them, even only slightly. Agency begins as a choice that only needs a few seconds of awareness. And everybody has a few seconds.
A Choice is a Vote For a Consequence
When you act, you’re not just choosing the action, but you are choosing everything that is attached to it. To choose something is to elect its consequences, to accept its ripple effects, to invite its outcomes. When this realisation is internalised and embodied, decision-making can improve.
This applies to suffering. Once a person realises they are electing their own suffering, they may begin to vote their way out through their choices.
For example, to choose to anger is to cast a vote for broken relationships, heightened stress, and loss of control. But to choose patience is to vote for emotional clarity, better interactions, and more stability.
To choose avoidance is to vote for future panic, lingering problems, and missed opportunities. But to choose courage is to vote for discomfort now, to build resilience along the way, and to trade for better problems over time.
Reality will never be free of problems, but through informed choice-making, those problems can be upgraded, and so can the person who faces them.
The Weight We Must Bear
If agency creates better choices, why doesn't everybody live this way?
To become agentic is to wrestle with the weight of one’s own responsibility. And that weight is heavy, especially when ease is so light and seductive.
It’s far easier to blame than to own your role in a situation. It’s easier to react impulsively than to regulate emotions. It’s easier to take what you want now than to work for something better later. It’s easier to suffer in the familiar than to risk the unknown. It’s easier to believe there’s something wrong with you than to take the measures that would prove there isn’t.
But easy is not the same as free.
Owning responsibility is a heavy burden, but it is the price of freedom. Once somebody realises they’ve been electing their outcomes, they no longer have to settle for the ones they feel they’ve been handed. Outcomes can improve because choices can be upgraded. Entire realities can shift.
Discipline may cost comfort, but regret costs a fortune. And sound investments will pay out in dividends over time.
An agentic person doesn’t necessarily make perfect choices, but they make more examined ones. They understand what they are choosing and why. They accept where it leads and the consequences that follow. They choose not to live in self-deception, but instead, they choose to live deliberately.
Your choices will shape you, whether you like it or not.
Which begs the question:
Do you control them, or are they controlling you?
Thank You.
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Recent and Popular Articles:
The Choice Journals #1: Mechanics of Choice
The Choice Journals #2: Finding Hidden Choices
My favourite in the series so far! Hard now or hard later. 👊🏻
I think it’s hard because humans are generally wired to prioritize short-term goals over long-term ones, "temporal discounting," where people value immediate rewards more than future ones, even if the future rewards are greater.
Additionally, the brain's reward system releases dopamine when we achieve quick wins, reinforcing short-term focus. This makes it harder to stay motivated for long-term goals, which require delayed gratification.
But without doing so we miss out on the amazing life on the other side of that hard work!
Love it man. Probably my favorite in the series so far. Agentic is a new word for me and I like it