A Distinctive Trait of Human Beings
“What a mistake to have chosen this college major!” “Moving to the city was a terrible decision.” “Why did I start smoking?” “I should have gotten thorough checkups a long time ago…” How many people could relate to these and other similar statements! It seems that about 90 percent of individuals have experienced significant regrets in their lives, to the point that this emotion can be considered an almost universal experience. The most common regrets concern education, employment, interpersonal relationships, life choices and missed opportunities. The widespread presence of regret is associated with its evaluation in largely negative terms, as it is considered a source of suffering and unnecessary distress. Psychological research, however, suggests a more complex and nuanced interpretation: if processed and embraced in a conscious and constructive manner, regret can become an effective aid to personal growth and change, proving to be rich in lessons.[1]
First and foremost, from an anthropological perspective. Only human beings experience regret: it reveals certain distinctive characteristics of our nature, our spiritual dimension, which is at once limited and fallible. Indeed, every time regret makes its appearance, it reminds us that we are not merely the product of circumstances, but that we can revisit them with hindsight, imagining different ways of experiencing them. For this reason, it has been defined as “the emotion of possibilities, of aspirations.”[2] Regret, in fact, warns against fatalism and resignation; its voice, however unpleasant, reminds us that there are other viable paths, but that they come at a cost. It is an expert on possibilities and an enemy of determinism, indifference and cynicism; it reminds us of our inherent freedom to evaluate and act, always exposed to the risk of failure.
In a perfect world, lived in complete harmony with the ideal and where the future is fully predictable and plannable, there would be no room for regret. But this would not be a human world; every situation in life belies such a claim. As Søren Kierkegaard noted: “You can do this or that; my thought and my advice as a friend are as follows. Whether you do this or that, you will regret it in any case.”[3] It is precisely the uncertainty of existential situations that leads us to view regret as a useless waste of energy, a source only of self-pity that imprisons a person in the past. What is the point of dwelling on what has happened? It is not possible to turn back the clock and return to the “scene of the crime”; and even if you could, unpleasant events you hadn’t anticipated would still arise, and with them, regret. So, let’s just live!
There is undoubtedly some truth to these statements. However, they are unable to silence that voice; on the contrary, they make it even more intrusive, to the point of becoming a true obsession. This approach, in fact, is not only contradictory, and therefore unworkable, it is like saying, “Remember to forget!” It triggers what is called a “paradoxical intention,” meaning it leads to the opposite effect. In one experiment, participants were asked not to think about polar bears; soon they realized that thought was becoming increasingly persistent and annoying.[4]
Despite its ubiquity, regret has received adequate attention from psychological research only in the last two decades, and the conclusion has been reached that it should not be eliminated (which is impossible!), but rather explored in its various forms. If it constitutes a distinctive feature of human beings, it is because it fulfills functions that, if recognized, could enable us to live better, transforming what seems like an obstacle into a valuable resource for growth. This is the challenge that has inspired some authors, especially in therapeutic contexts: to identify the lessons of this strange voice, which resounds most often when “the die is cast.”
What Is Regret?
Regret is usually defined as an emotion that arises from comparing a decision that was made with an alternative that was not chosen, while judging the latter to be better. It therefore involves a sense of responsibility for what has happened, allowing one to imagine different scenarios that would have made it better. This distinguishes it, for example, from disappointment, where the outcome remains unknown until it is realized, in minor situations (“I went to see that movie that was so highly praised by critics and I didn’t like it”; “I tried a new dessert, but it wasn’t good”) or major ones (“I wanted to vote for that candidate, whose honesty and competence I appreciated, but he died suddenly”).
Regret is more akin to guilt (and the resulting remorse). It shares the attribution of responsibility for what happened, but it is not in itself morally charged: one might regret not having taken the usual scenic route home, but that does not mean one feels guilty. Regret, however, is also present in guilt. This aspect of responsibility that characterizes both is nonetheless important in a therapeutic context, as we shall see.
Analyzing the mechanism of regret can undoubtedly help us learn to make choices in line with our values and gain wisdom. Every choice inevitably and almost always involves conflicting and sometimes contradictory aspects, but all of this is nonetheless part of the decision-making process. Those who demand absolute certainty run the risk of failing to make any meaningful decisions in their lives, and above all of failing to recognize that even in such cases, a decision has been made. Studies on the subject show that regret primarily concerns choices not made, opportunities missed compared to what was actually undertaken.[5] This is one of its first valuable lessons: deciding nothing, never taking a risk for something deemed important, is the hallmark of the slothful – “these wretches, who never truly lived,” as Dante calls them (Inferno, III, 64) – and is, in fact, a state of premature death. For those who are dead, in fact, are free from uncertainty, but with the regret of never having truly lived.
The Nature of Regret
As noted, regret stems from the human condition of fallibility. Learning to assess the actual role of mistakes in our decisions is key to “taming” regret. When we try something new, making mistakes is a necessary step toward gaining proficiency. Those who do not allow themselves to make mistakes will never learn a language, a sport, or a discipline; rather, it is a matter of recognizing them and seeing them as an invitation to improve. In this, regret can become a valuable ally: the range of possibilities it presents regarding the past can be applied to the future. This is what is called “anticipatory regret”: imagining how one would feel about a decision to be made – for example, when meeting a person or in a particular situation, especially if familiar – by recalling what happened in the past; channeling regret can increase post-choice decision satisfaction.[6]
The research has thus led to a distinction between the different ways this emotion can manifest itself, identifying, for example, a “ruminative” form of regret that causes one to withdraw into oneself: it is the tendency to wallow in self-pity, which leads to decision paralysis, preventing the person from making changes and turning to other interests and activities. It is like continuously replaying the same movie in one’s mind, exacerbating one’s state of mind, isolating oneself, and becoming increasingly bitter, turning into an inner prisoner with no way out. This also has repercussions on physical health, such as depression and anhedonia.[7]
On the other hand, there are those who know how to benefit from the insights offered by regret, deciding to make changes: this is the case with “regulatory regret,” which fosters growth, enables people to take control of their lives, and allows them to take concrete steps toward values they recognize as important. Janet Landman, in her study of decision-making processes, has shown how regret can be helpful when it is characterized by these aspects: 1) it acknowledges the necessary gap between the ideal and reality; 2) it accepts the resulting discomfort; 3) it channels this into motivation toward new goals.[8] Thus, a potentially paralyzing emotion can be transformed into constructive motivation. In this case, regret becomes “useful,” serving the individual and capable of aiding them in their choices.
Freedom, an indispensable prerequisite for regret, does not in fact concern only future choices, but also the way in which one relates to the past and to life in general: even if one cannot change it, one can always reinterpret a possible failure in a different way.
Some Examples of ‘Useful Regret’
As a child, Charles Dickens was forced to work 10 hours a day in a shoe-polish factory under degrading conditions. His regret over his lost childhood and his bitterness at being abandoned by his family found expression in his writing. In Oliver Twist and David Copperfield, the suffering of his circumstances became the material for crafting a lucid critique of the society of his time, and helped bring about reforms to protect the weakest and poorest.
A contemporary example is that of John Paul DeJoria, a billionaire American entrepreneur and owner of the John Paul Mitchell Systems brand. His life has been marked by numerous failures and obstacles, as well as the deprivation of basic necessities: he was forced to sleep in his car for months, was fired multiple times, and his business ventures failed miserably. But he didn’t give up on his dream: while continuing to live in his car, he decided, together with Paul Mitchell – a colleague he met through his many jobs – to start a company with a starting capital of $700, which eventually made billions.
In an interview he gave about the lessons he learned from these experiences, two points stand out as particularly relevant to this topic: 1) the importance of having a strong motivation toward which to direct one’s resources, which helps prevent giving up in the face of failure (“I’ve learned not to get discouraged when faced with rejection. When someone slams the door in your face and you don’t lose your enthusiasm for your work, you know you’ve won. You have to learn to see failure as a step toward success and not as the end of the road”); 2) gratitude (“Repay the kindness you receive. When I was broke, many people helped me. I haven’t forgotten a single one of them. As soon as I had my first bit of money, I returned the favors they had done for me.”)[9]
It is also worth recalling the well-known story of American entrepreneur Steve Paul Jobs. In a speech to Stanford’s graduates, he reflects on the most important lessons of his life through the lens of his failures, lessons that allowed him to recalibrate his aspirations and explore paths he might never have dared to take otherwise. His life got off to a rough start right from the beginning: he was abandoned by his parents and put up for adoption. When he started college, he was consumed by regret that the couple’s savings were being wasted on a school he considered useless; so he decided to drop out and take only the courses that truly interested him, such as calligraphy, which would become the source of inspiration for the Macintosh project. Later, he was fired from the company he founded, and this further setback led him to embark on a new adventure, acquiring Pixar and transforming it into an entertainment company. Finally, cancer, the last great lesson: the time we have is short and should not be wasted on regrets and recriminations, preventing us from deciding on what we believe is important. He states: “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart […]. Never settle, and don’t be afraid of failure. That’s where the best turns come from.”[10]
Joanne Rowling, known for the famous Harry Potter series, has followed an equally remarkable path. For her, too, success was the final step in a difficult journey, and not even the most important one. Her parents did not approve of her desire to pursue a career in literature, because they rightly believed it offered no prospects for employment. Nevertheless, Joanne decided to take the risk, facing years of hardship and struggle: poverty, homelessness, and no prospect of publication. The manuscript for Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was rejected by at least 12 publishing houses. Her parents’ fears – one of whom had already passed away – had come true. But those trying years were, for her, more than a rebuke; they were a valuable training ground: “Failure,” she told Harvard’s new graduates, “meant stripping away the non-essential. I stopped pretending to be anything other than myself and began directing all my energy toward completing the one work that mattered to me […]. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you don’t live at all, in which case, you have failed from the start. […] You will never know yourself or the strength of your bonds until both have been tested by adversity.”[11]
In the music world, one might mention Christina Aguilera, one of the most famous artists of the 2000s. She grew up in a dysfunctional family; domestic violence led her parents to divorce when she was six years old, and she was forced to drop out of school due to bullying. Instead of dwelling on the injustices and hardships she endured, Christina decided to channel her desire for redemption into music, changing the way she viewed her own life.[12]
Beyond the success she achieved, which may depend on unforeseeable factors, we can find in these events the characteristics of constructive regret: accepting past mistakes and sufferings, guarding against victimhood, not judging oneself based on failures, but approaching them with the curiosity to learn a possible lesson, and embarking on a different path based on new insights.
Toward Constructive Regret
As we have seen, regret alone is not enough to bring about positive change. For it to become constructive, certain conditions are necessary. First and foremost, honesty with oneself: reexamining what happened exactly as it was, without altering it to make it more tolerable, because that would mean not accepting it. Second, learning to look to the future with boldness and not as a mere repetition of the past. Finally, this conviction must translate into concrete choices and behaviors.[13]
In the clinical context, regret often constitutes a significant starting point for change, because it contains valuable information about unfulfilled desires and deep, unheeded needs. Awareness of its underlying message can spur the will to change. It has in fact been found that regret often does not concern wrong actions, nor even failures (the examples presented clearly demonstrate this), but rather the inconsistency between choices and actual values. Recognizing this then becomes an important criterion for decisions that more authentically express what one truly desires.
Unlike obsessive rumination (“If only I had…”), revisiting this memory in a non-judgmental but compassionate way allows us to evaluate it in its entirety, which itself requires examination, putting it into context: On what basis was the decision made? Was there important information missing that is now known? What were the circumstances, the state of mind, and the possible pressures from the environment? If this process yields concrete and feasible strategies for future situations, then regret has fulfilled its purpose, especially if you realize you have experienced it this way before, learning to understand its characteristics and recurring patterns. You may also discover that those experiences, though painful, have nonetheless helped shape who you are today, and that the past should not be forgotten.
Practicing self-compassion does not mean justifying one’s mistakes. On the contrary, as we have seen, acknowledging one’s mistakes is an essential first step, but it is an effective driving force toward improvement.[14] When a patient sincerely acknowledges regretting years spent in toxic relationships, harmful habits, or unsatisfying careers, this awareness, combined with a desire for redemption, often lays the groundwork for bringing order to one’s life. This is the case, for example, with many professionals who regret having sacrificed family relationships for their careers. This regret, when accepted without denial, leads to the realization that professional success was sought to achieve something very different, such as self-worth or emotional fulfillment, that work alone could not provide: for them, it was an opportunity to discover and choose what truly matters, beyond appearances or conventional wisdom. Numerous longitudinal studies, including the famous Harvard Study of Adult Development, show that meaningful relationships are the strongest predictor of long-term well-being.[15]
If other people were involved, constructive regret can translate into concrete actions: sincere apologies, offers of restitution, and verifiable changes in habits and behavior. If such remedies cannot be implemented because the people involved can no longer be contacted, indirect forms can be pursued: choosing a similar situation and preparing to experience it as one would have wished, helping others, and deciding to support causes considered important for the common good. In these cases, regret becomes the wisdom gained that allows one to prioritize what to pursue while there is still time.
How should we live the time we have left?
Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse who has spent years caring for the terminally ill, recognizes just how essential this work is when one is confronted with one’s own death. In her book The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, she presents the most common regrets of people nearing the end of their lives, all accompanied by the same, sad phrase: “I wish I had.” The most frequent regret did not concern failures or setbacks, nor even possible wrongs or injustices suffered, but rather not having been true to oneself, not having had the courage to make choices they knew depended solely on them: instead, they chose to lead an anonymous existence, conforming to the expectations of others. Theirs were, more than anything, “non-choices”: too much time devoted to work, at the expense of their private lives; the inability to tell their loved ones how they felt, taking them for granted; neglecting friends and, above all, those who had done them good. “I wish I had done it.” They knew they could have done so.[16]
The American psychiatrist Irvin Yalom, while working with groups of terminally ill patients in a therapeutic setting, had reached the same conclusion. Contemplating one’s own death radically overturned the hierarchy of values regarding what seemed to be considered important: “In the words of one patient: ‘What a shame that I had to wait until now, when my body is riddled with cancer, to learn how to live!’ […]. It seems to me this captures well the idea that, since we have only one chance to live, we should make the most of it and end our lives with as few regrets as possible.”[17] These testimonies, Yalom added, were not in vain: they helped others reconsider their choices before it was too late, demonstrating how even the regrets of others can serve as a form of preventive wisdom.
In his Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius of Loyola suggests a method for making an important choice – an “election” – that can also help us avoid dying with regrets. He asks the person to imagine that they have reached the end of their life and to examine their conscience not so much for sins committed, sufferings to lament, or titles and honors missed, but rather for opportunities for good that remained unfulfilled, such as reconciling with a loved one, a gesture of affection, an act of charity, or a choice considered important but never yet put into practice… And he encourages them to “make a firm decision,” so as not to reproach themselves for it at the moment of their death.[18]
A Lesson in Wisdom
Regret, far from being merely an emotion to be avoided, can become a crucial moment of self-awareness and a reorientation of one’s existence. In a spiritual context, it can constitute a genuine offer of salvation, an opportunity to seize the right moment to turn one’s life around. We have seen how some of the most significant personal transformations have arisen precisely from the painful but honest confrontation with unsatisfying choices. For these individuals, regret was not merely an annoying burden, but a driving force toward authentic change, enabling them to become increasingly the authors of the book of their own lives, rather than mere extras: “Do we want to keep returning to the previous chapter and repeating it endlessly? Of course, that would be possible if we were consumed by regret and guilt. But what if, instead, we considered moving on to the next chapter of our story? […] If we are the authors of the book, we can decide what the next chapter will be like.”[19]
Regret can be a valuable aid in writing that book. An aid: not the author, nor even the protagonist.
Reproduced with permission from La Civiltà Cattolica.
DOI: https://doi.org/10.32009/22072446.0526.3
[1]. Cf. C. Saffrey – A. Summerville – N. J. Roese, “Praise for Regret: People Value Regret above Other Negative Emotions”, in Motivation and Emotion 32 (2008/1) 46-54.
[2]. R. L. Leahy, Senza rimpianti. Liberarsi degli errori del passato, Milan, Raffaello Cortina, 2023, 20.
[3]. S. Kierkegaard, Enten-Eller. L’equilibrio fra l’estetico e l’etico nell’elaborazione della personalità, Milan, Adelphi, 1996, 3.
[4]. Cf. D. M. Wegner, White Bears and Other Unwanted Thoughts: Suppression, Obsession, and the Psychology of Mental Control, New York, Penguin, 1994.
[5]. Cf. R. L. Leahy, Senza rimpianti…, op. cit., 39.
[6]. Cf. J. Liu – H. Liu, “Can anticipated regret promote rationality? The influence of anticipated regret on risk aversion and choice satisfaction”, in Frontiers in Psychology 16 (2025), in https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2025.1667136
[7]. Cf. J. Spasojević – L. B. Alloy, “Rumination as a common mechanism relating depressive risk factors to depression”, in Emotion 1 (2001/1) 25-37.
[8]. Cf. J. Landman, “Regret: A Theoretical and Conceptual Analysis”, in Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour 17 (1987/2), 135-160.
[9]. “Da senzatetto a miliardario: la storia di John Paul DeJoria”, in Millionaire (www.millionaire.it/da-senza-tetto-a-miliardario-la-storia-di-john-paul-dejoria), April 20, 2015.
[10]. “L’emozionante Discorso di Steve Jobs all’Università di Stanford (in inglese e italiano)”, in Frasimania (www.frasimania.it/discorso-steve-job), January 22, 2024.
[11]. “J. K. Rowling’s 2008 Commencement Address to Harvard Graduates”, in aulab (https://tinyurl.com/mrutvt6z), September 23, 2016. Cf. J. K. Rowling, Buona vita a tutti. I benefici del fallimento e l’importanza dell’immaginazione, Milan, Salani, 2019.
[12]. Cf. L. Hirschberg, “Christina Finds Her Voice”, in W Magazine, July 1, 2010.
[13]. Cf. R. L. Leahy, Senza rimpianti…, op. cit., 241-251; D. H. Pink, Il potere dei rimpianti. Perché guardare indietro ci spinge in avanti, Milan, Mondadori, 2023.
[14]. Cf. K. M. Newman, “How to Grow from Your Regrets”, in Greater Good Magazine, June 20, 2016.
[15]. Cf. G. Cucci, L’arte di vivere. Educare alla felicità, Milan, Àncora, 2019, 123-126.
[16]. Cf. B. Ware, Vorrei averlo fatto. I cinque rimpianti più grandi di chi è alla fine della vita, Rimini, My Life, 2025.
[17]. I. D. Yalom, Diventare se stessi, Vicenza, Neri Pozza, 2018, 214.
[18]. Cf. Ignatius of Loyola, Spiritual Exercises, no. 186: “I will consider, as if I were at the point of death, the conduct I would wish to have adopted in this present choice, and, acting in accordance with that, I will make my decision firmly.”
[19]. R. L. Leahy, Senza rimpianti…, op. cit., 207.
