On making rational decisions

Stop Lying. Most of What I Call "Reasons" are Just Elegant Excuses

I recently read the claim that "Only ten percent of our decisions are truly rational, while ninety percent are rationalizations." The idea didn't come from Facebook or TikTok; it's a popular interpretation of decades of psychological and neuroscientific research on how humans actually make choices. Thinkers such as Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman and marketing scholar Gerald Zaltman are proponents of this view. 

While the percentages may be debatable, the core message is spot on: We mostly feel first, and think second. Remembering this can help me decide, by being more self-aware of how emotional impulses influence my decisions, which is crucial for personal growth. 

I need to stop lying to myself. Most of what I like to call "reasons" are just complicated excuses for bad behavior. I tell myself stories that justify questionable decisions.

I am aware of this fallacy in my thinking. But acknowledging a falacious thought is a far-flung thing from correcting it.  

My Mind Moves First—My Reason Arrives Later

Kahneman says I have two systems: a fast emotional one and a slow rational one. I like to believe the slow one is in charge. It's not.

Zaltman says most thinking is subconscious. The Stoics would agree: "Yes—because you haven't bothered to examine yourself."

And me? I nod my assent to Kahneman, Zaltman, and the Stoics, then continue to repeat the same mindless patterns on my way through life. Reminds me of my dog on her daily walk; she seems surprised every time she smells her own footprints.  

My "Reasons" Are Just Polite Lies

Here are some of my greatest hits:

"I lost my temper because I was tired."

No—I lost my temper because I indulged my irritation and then claimed I was just being honest. 

"I bought that because I deserved it."

I didn't deserve it. I desired it. Big difference.

"Apologizing won't fix it, so I'll just have to go forward, smiling and acting as if nothing happened."

Translation: "I am unwilling to endure the discomfort of owning my own behavior."

"I didn't mean it; it was just a joke."

Of course, I meant it in the moment—it just embarrasses me now.

The Stoics Want Me to Stop Whining—Not Stop Feeling

Let's clarify: emotions aren't the enemy. My refusal to command them is.

Marcus Aurelius wrote reminders to himself every morning. I can barely tell myself the truth once a week.

Epictetus said we cannot control events, only our responses to events. I often can't control the responses of my tongue, let alone all my responses.

Seneca advised calm introspection. I prefer dramatic interpretations of situations in which I am the misunderstood protagonist.

But the Stoics had a simple principle: If I can't hold myself accountable, I can't keep myself together.

A Few Epigrams

• If the reason arrives after the action, it's not a reason—it's Public Relations.

• The subconscious may strike the first blow to my thoughts, but I decide whether that becomes violence.

• Every rationalized "reason" is a betrayal of the person I claim I want to be.

• I can't grow and self-justify at the same time. One has to go.

• My "why I did something" is often just an "excuse."

So What Now?

Here's my  job:

1. Be admittedly honest about my motives. Not a flattering falsehood. The truth.

2. Apologize. Stop explaining; start repairing.

3. Create a sufficient pause between impulse and action. Count to 10. Count to 100. Count longer. This discipline builds inner strength and helps me feel more in control, reducing reckless reactions.

4. Study my rationalizations as if they are crimes I intend never to repeat.

5. Accept that becoming better requires hard work and occasionally disliking myself.

That's just the beginning of progress, not the end.

Final Note to Self:

Psychology whispers, "Most of your decisions are subconscious."

Stoicism whispers back, "Fine—but the part that matters is still yours to control."

So here's the bottom line:

Am I going to keep rationalizing my behavior, or am I finally going to become the man I claim I'm trying to be?

I can continue flattering myself. Or, I can mentally confront and interrupt myself before I react as usual.

But I can't do both.

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