【Student Question】
Master Chi, hello. I’d like to ask you about something that has troubled me for a long time.
Why is it that sometimes we clearly know a certain action will do us more harm than good — yet we keep doing it anyway?
A few examples:
Say I have no appetite in the morning. I eat snacks for breakfast instead, and now my stomach is upset. I’ve been through this before, and I know the long-term consequence is physical discomfort — so why do I still choose it?
In relationships, sometimes the other person is clearly a good match, yet I insist on self-sabotaging or making a mess of things. Then I turn around and complain about never meeting the right person.
Some things are genuinely beneficial in the long run — like writing, or building a personal brand. But after a few days of effort, something else grabs my attention and I stop.
From what I’ve observed, many people share this pattern. I still haven’t figured it out. It’s as if we already know the answer — so why do we deliberately get it wrong? What is the deeper nature of this behavior?
How do we achieve alignment between thought and action — and actually do what we believe is right?
【Master Chi’s Response】
Because human rationality is limited.
If people could only survive by being completely rational, most of us would find that unsustainable.
There’s a story called “Cutting Through Tangled Hemp with a Swift Blade.” Gao Huan of the Northern Qi dynasty gave his sons a tangled mass of hemp to sort out. His sons sat there struggling to unravel it — going nowhere. One son pulled out a knife and simply cut straight through it. Done in an instant.
Think of it like a computer that’s been running for years: you can try to optimize it, but restoring it to its original state is nearly impossible. Better to reinstall the whole system — even if you lose a few things in the process.
These look like irrational choices. But the world people operate in is full of uncertainty. Take warfare: the uncertainty is enormous, and sometimes an opponent sets a trap where pure rationality won’t save you.
When Viking raiders attacked England, they would form a shield wall at the front. While you were engaged there, another group flanked from behind — forming a second shield wall that pinned you completely, crushing you alive no matter how many men you had. And yet there was Xiang Yu, who threw caution to the wind at the Battle of Julu and won. So irrationality has its legitimate place.
Sometimes you’ve calculated every angle and still don’t have complete information. You just have to charge ahead.
What you’re describing is really a matter of insufficient self-discipline. My advice: don’t be too tense about everything. Tension gets in the way of performance.
People are not machines. Act when it’s time to act. Loosen up when it’s time to loosen up.