The Problem With Your Rational Decision Making

I’ve realized there’s a severe downside to being confident, logical, and self-aware: 

Rationality blindness.

How many opportunities have I dismissed because they didn’t fit my logical framework? How many potential connections, adventures, or breakthroughs have I vetoed because they didn’t pass my rational cost-benefit analysis?

I dunno! My rationality keeps me too focused to even notice what I’m missing.

But I do know who to blame:I call him Donny Do Veto.

Picture a foreman in a fluorescent vest with a white hard hat and a clipboard. He’s calm, practical, and efficient. With sound reasoning, he vetoes anything that doesn’t fit the blueprint:

• “Focus, you moron.”
• “Good for other people, but not your thing.”
• “It’s not worth your energy—it won’t move the needle.”

Donny is great at keeping me on track. He’s also great at keeping me stuck. By vetoing the unexpected, he ensures I miss out on things I didn’t even realize I needed.

The Email That Slipped Past My Rationality

When I landed in Burleigh Heads, Australia, I was itching for a conversation with someone who wasn’t my wife or two young sons. So, I did something I rarely do back home: I cold-emailed strangers.

I reached out to an “anti-nice guy” coach named Mike. His reply wasn’t what I expected:

“Hey Chris, Too bad—I just moved to New Zealand. But here’s an idea: I run a men’s group in Burleigh. Next meeting’s Wednesday. Wanna go?”

Donny whipped out his clipboard:

• “Men’s groups? Those are for guys with problems. You don’t have problems like that.”
• “Predicted benefit: Low. Predicted cost: High (travel time + Kim handling the boys alone).”
• “Net outcome: Negative. Vetoed.”

Normally, I’d agree. But Donny’s influence seems to weaken when I’m travelling. I consulted 95-year-old Chris on my shoulder:

“Which will make for a better anti-regret: Another quiet dinner with the family? Or dropping in on a men’s group?”

“But what if it goes horribly wrong?” Lifeguard Larry chimed in. I chuckled as I let my imagination run wild with ridiculous scenarios of men’s group sessions gone awry. That settled it. Go for the story. 

What I Found When Donny Wasn’t Looking

I walked into the room expecting a bunch of Aussie blokes I could observe from the sidelines. Instead, I found three guys—one per wall. No chance to be a fly on it. I was forced to be a full participant.

But that’s where the forcing ended, because we discussed topics I could converse about for hours:

• How to deal with seasonal work peaks? 
• What’s the point of International Men’s Day?
• How are expectations for men different from 50 years ago, and how will they be in 50 years? 
• Why don’t we hang out in person more?  

By the end, I realized I did have a men’s-group-worthy problem:

I’d been missing conversations like these—mano-a-man group chats about real topics like these.

The Art of Rational Irrationality

Afterward, Donny tried to save face: “This only worked because you’re traveling. Back home, it’s different.”

B.S. Why not act like I’m traveling all the time, even back home, Vancouver? Knock on doors, open windows for serendipity, and when the universe blows in an unexpected invite, give it a shot.

So what if they don’t always work out as positively as my men’s group experience? The occasional misstep is a small price to pay for the moments that reshape our blueprints. 

As Marshall Goldsmith says, “What got you here won’t get you there.” And to get anywhere extraordinary, you have to look past rationality and unleash the incalculable magic of the irrational.

What About You?

What’s your rationality bias, aka Donny Do Veto, trying to reason you out of right now?

Here’s more related to this:

• Maximize Your Anti-Regrets. A more fulfilling alternative to regret minimization.
• Identify Your Suck. Hint: It’s a two-headed monster of self-deception and complacency.
• Escape Mediocrity’s Pull. Approach life like an astronaut with a crappy co-pilot and blast off into the extraordinary.
• The Region Beta Paradox. Why “not-so-bad” situations are more dangerous than truly awful ones—and how to escape them.