Decisions of identity
This post isn't about the decision or the circumstances per se, it's more a treatise on difficult decisions that I hope my future self will be able to use again.
Today1 I made a really hard decision.
I've made many decisions over my life, and come to the conclusion that decisions in the past are not regrets to hold on to, or missed opportunities, but carefully considered, actively chosen actions. Today I feel like "difficult decisions" are a cornerstone of a life lived, and I can't honestly imagine not having choices, and therefore at least some difficult decisions to contend with.
So why write about them today? Because today's decision ended up being a battle for my identity2.
I like my decisions like I like my chicken
Let's start with some definitions of decision difficulty. I think this is an imperfect model, but I had a nice steak today, and so I wanted to riff on the imagery a bit.
Behold! My decision difficulty ratings:
- Well done. Low effort to do the right thing by everyone, me included. Most daily decisions probably look like this. Say please, say thank you.
- Medium. Higher effort to do the right thing by everyone, but the alternative is obviously bad by any standards. Be respectful of your vegan friends, don't lean on the car horn in traffic.
- Rare. Effort is immaterial, there is no obvious win condition. Someone is going to get hurt, and it could be me. Being forced to pick sides in an argument, handing your notice in at work.
- Bloody. Again, effort is immaterial, there is no win condition. Everyone is going to get hurt, it just depends where I distribute the hurt.
The first two are most of my standard decision making processes. There's a good and a bad option, by some measure of good and bad (ethics, morality, value, etc). These decisions are every day decisions, and no real trade off is being made here. If I'm making a trade off on a medium decision, then I'm saying that I will cause some pain, possibly even my own, because I don't want to put the effort in. This feels uncommon to me.
Rare decisions are almost the definition of trade-offs - there might be a clever route to minimising hurt, it will take time, and you might be able to spread the discomfort around enough that no one notices, but it's definitely not a zero-sum problem.
Based on today's experiences, bloody decisions are not situations I ever want to be in. I work hard to avoid hurt in general, and this decision just appears to be all pain and no gain. However, life decided that I needed testing, and this was an end-of-course-half-your-grade weighted test. Or, at least, it felt like it to me.
Did that decision just moo at you?
If I were writing a self-help chapter, this is the part where the framework dissection occurs and specific tips and tricks are offered. Good job I'm not doing that though, because I have no tips other than "don't make bloody decisions" - if you can cook the decision for longer and it turns into an easier decision then do that.
The decision isn't the hard part. It's what the decision says about you that's the hard part. A bloody decision is essentially the same as asking "which person or group of people are you going to screw over?" and that is an identity question. The decision isn't about whatever the original problem was. That's been evaluated and turned over and this is the crux of it. It's now about motivations and identity.
My decision is one of the worse versions of this for me, because the effort involved is non-trivial in every direction and my choice is "hurt many people" or "hurt myself". There's no way of spreading this pain out between us and there's no easy way to just walk away. Regardless of the path I take, I have to work hard to do it, so that doesn't help me make the decision. All I have is the question: am I a person who hurts other people, or am I a person who sacrifices themselves?
Collapsing reality
I endeavour to do the right thing by others. I put others first habitually, and under stress, I will dig into that mode even harder.
This decision boiled down to a simple choice: them or me.
Most of the time, the answer is "them". Their happiness, their satisfaction, their request, their life, their goal ...
And most of the time, that works out okay. I feel good that I've done the right thing, even if it's cost me something. I'm not afraid to keep pushing.
The stark reality, and what makes today different is: I have nothing left to give. The tank is empty. I've been running on fumes for years. The choice is the same: them or me, but I'm not giving from a place of fullness. I'm trying to bottle water when the well is dry.
I don't want it to be true, because I don't want to be a person who causes other people hurt, and if there's an option to avoid it, even at my own cost - that's a part of my identity.
But today, if I pick them, I'm not picking me.
Which means I might not be here to pick them next time.
Being able to say no has to be a part of my identity too. I can't always say yes.
It's a simple question, but simple doesn't mean easy.
Today, I pick me.