Every decision we make
is a step into the unknown.
Not just because we don’t know what will happen—
but because we don’t fully know
how we’ll feel
once it does.
And yet,
we try to guess.
We imagine satisfaction,
relief,
joy.
We anticipate regret,
boredom,
pain.
This is what it means
to treat utility measurement as prediction:
to estimate now
how much something will matter
later.
To look forward
with today’s eyes
and try to measure tomorrow’s heart.
Forecasting Feelings
Utility is the imagined value
of a future outcome.
It asks:
- If I take this job, will I be happier?
- If I spend this money, will I feel it was worth it?
- If I say yes—
or no—
what will I feel
in the quiet after?
We try to put numbers on those feelings.
We rank options.
We chart preferences.
We build equations to capture joy.
But what we’re really doing
is building stories.
Stories of who we think we’ll be,
and how that person might feel.
The Fragility of Forecasting
But the future is a stranger.
And so are we,
to the people we’ll become.
We overestimate how long happiness will last.
We underestimate our ability to adapt.
We fail to see the subtle shifts
that change the shape of satisfaction.
What once seemed priceless
might one day feel ordinary.
What we once feared
might become freedom.
So even as we try to measure utility as prediction,
we must admit:
our predictions are poems,
not proofs.
Why We Predict Anyway
And still—
we keep forecasting.
Because to imagine the future
is to care about it.
Because to plan
is to hope.
Because to guess what might matter
is to begin asking
what matters now.
Utility prediction isn’t about precision.
It’s about presence.
It invites us to ask:
- What kind of joy do I trust myself to recognize?
- What kind of regret do I want to avoid?
- What kind of life am I trying to walk toward?
In asking,
we become more attuned
to what we truly value.
Even if we don’t get the future exactly right,
we may get the direction right.
The Humility in Not Knowing
To measure utility as prediction
is not to demand certainty.
It is to step forward
with humility.
It is to say:
“I don’t know exactly how I’ll feel—
but I am listening.
I am imagining.
I am trying to honor
the version of me
who will live this choice.”
This is not weakness.
This is wisdom.
The wisdom to choose,
not with perfection,
but with care.
A Closing Reflection
If you are facing a decision
and trying to predict what will bring the most meaning—
pause.
Ask:
- What do I believe will bring me peace tomorrow?
- What part of this prediction comes from fear?
What part comes from hope? - If I could speak to my future self,
what would they ask me to remember now?
Because in the end,
utility prediction is not about getting it right—
it’s about getting closer.
Closer to your values.
Closer to clarity.
Closer to a self
who will one day look back
and say:
“I chose with intention,
even in the fog.”
And in the end, utility measurement as prediction reminds us
that life is not lived on a spreadsheet—
but in time,
in change,
in feeling.
And to forecast our desires
is not to lock them in,
but to honor them in motion.
To choose today,
not just for now,
but for the one we are becoming—
with curiosity,
with softness,
and with trust.