Being in college and being part of the “adult” world brings with it an array of changes, one of which is the necessity to make decisions autonomously. Life up until college is very regulated, whether that regulation comes from parents, teachers or other adults. For me, that meant the decisions I made before coming to Stanford were limited, and they usually didn’t have major consequences. At Stanford, there are many more decisions to make, and much more freedom with which to make them. While this independence can be liberating and is a necessary part of life, it requires indecisive people like me to make choices, whether we want to or not.
It’s a bit startling to realize the full extent of the decisions we make on a day-to-day basis, and the deliberations that go into them. Every action we undertake, from the time we decide to get out of bed in the morning to the time we decide to go to sleep, is the result of a decision or a series of decisions. Decisions affect every aspect of our lives, and the effect of each decision can vary greatly in magnitude. Some decisions are small and straightforward, like whether to eat a cookie and enjoy decadent, sweet, chocolate-chip goodness, or to eat an apple and stave off the legendary army of rabid doctors waiting for you to go a day without one. In the grand scheme of things, having one apple or one cookie probably won’t determine your entire future, and whatever choice you make will probably be forgotten by the next day. Other choices, however, can be much more complex with long-lasting consequences, from choosing what classes to take for the next 11 weeks to choosing a major that can impact what you do for the rest of your life. Needless to say, making major decisions is a daunting prospect, especially for someone like me who can’t even decide what to write for her next Daily article. These can be life-changing decisions, and life-changing decisions should require long, careful deliberation, right?
Spoiler alert: The skepticism in that question does, in fact, reveal my answer.
My life up until this point has led me to doubt that more deliberation is the solution to indecisiveness. All the thought and time I put into a decision just feeds my inability to choose, taking me further away from a decision with every mental list of pros and cons. This can be incredibly overwhelming when there are many options, as is the case with classes and majors. The more I think about what major to choose, the less sure I am of what I want to do.
This conundrum has caused me to be a little more impulsive, even if it’s purely in the interest of saving me time and mental energy. For example, this quarter, I just enrolled in the first classes I found that interested me and fit my schedule. I didn’t spend hours on Carta and ExploreCourses combing through lists and descriptions and class reviews that I knew would get me hooked on an impossible number of courses. To my pleasant surprise, this choice has turned out great so far, and I’m really looking forward to my classes this quarter. I’m certain there are other classes I’d enjoy taking this quarter, maybe even some that I’d enjoy more than the ones I’m in now, but I don’t regret choosing to fight my indecisiveness by being impulsive. The hours and days I’ve saved can now be turned to other decisions, like deciding what article to pitch for The Daily next week, since I can’t decide to write on indecisiveness for two weeks in a row.
Like any system, however, impulsiveness is an imperfect solution. By using impulsiveness to combat my indecisiveness, I’m not trying to propel anyone – including myself – into making important decisions rashly. Serious decisions should be taken seriously, but there is a point where they can be taken too seriously. It is easy to get caught up in the decision-making process until the tangible effects of making that decision are lost in a haze of indecisiveness – one that can do more harm than good. Sometimes it’s just nice to take a step back, go with your gut and hope for the best.
Contact Kiara Harding at kiluha ‘at’ stanford.edu.