We’ve Become Very Good at Researching Things We Never Actually Do

I know exactly where I’m going to stay in Japan.

Small hotel. Quiet neighbourhood. Excellent reviews. Seven minutes from the station.

I know which train pass I probably don’t need.

I know which side of the plane has the better view when landing.

I have restaurants saved in Tokyo.

I have restaurants saved in Kyoto.

I have watched a man explain why tourists are ordering ramen incorrectly.

There is only one minor problem.

I have not booked a trip to Japan.

Not a flight.

Not a hotel.

Nothing.

At this point, I’m not planning a holiday.

I’m running an unpaid Japanese tourism consultancy.

And I don’t think I’m alone.

My future self is extremely busy

According to things I’ve saved online, Future Me has an extraordinary life.

Future Me makes recipes involving ingredients Current Me has never purchased.

Future Me reads long books.

Future Me has excellent mobility because I saved a 12-minute stretching routine six months ago.

Future Me visits tiny restaurants in cities I haven’t booked flights to.

Future Me owns a beautifully organised home.

Future Me may also start running.

There is evidence.

I have saved the video.

This is one of the stranger things about having unlimited information available all the time.

We’ve become incredibly good at preparing for lives we haven’t started living.

Research used to have an ending

You wanted to buy a camera.

You asked someone who knew about cameras.

Maybe you read a magazine.

You went to a shop.

You bought a camera.

Research finished.

Now you can watch:

BEST CAMERA 2026

followed immediately by:

DO NOT BUY A CAMERA BEFORE WATCHING THIS

followed by:

I TESTED 17 CAMERAS SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO

Unfortunately, they did not test them so I didn’t have to.

They tested them so I could watch another 24 minutes.

Then the comments introduce three cameras nobody mentioned.

Excellent.

New tabs.

Information was supposed to make decisions easier.

Sometimes abundance does the opposite.

There is always one more review capable of changing your mind.

But I think something else is happening

Research feels suspiciously like progress.

That’s the trap.

Watch six videos about running and you feel slightly more like a runner.

Read about starting a business and you feel slightly entrepreneurial.

Spend Sunday comparing language-learning methods and you feel as though you’ve begun learning Spanish.

Your brain gets a small preview of the identity.

Without the inconvenient part where you actually have to do anything badly.

Because reality is considerably less elegant than research.

In research, your first run has perfect shoes, the correct heart-rate zone and an optimised recovery plan.

In reality, you run for nine minutes, your lungs file a formal complaint and your left sock does something inexplicable.

Research lets us stay in the version where we’re still going to be excellent at it.

Starting introduces evidence.

The spreadsheet is sometimes procrastination wearing glasses

This one hurts.

There is a sophisticated form of procrastination that doesn’t look lazy at all.

It looks responsible.

You make the Notion board.

You compare tools.

You watch tutorials.

You create a spreadsheet.

You rename the spreadsheet.

You add colours.

You research the best productivity system for managing the project you still haven’t started.

Nobody can accuse you of wasting time.

Look how organised you are.

Except the thing remains undone.

Traditional procrastination says:

I don’t want to do this.

Modern procrastination says:

Before I begin, I’d just like to understand the optimal methodology.

Much more respectable.

Same result.

Saved doesn’t mean wanted

This might be the bigger problem.

My saved folders contain hundreds of versions of myself.

Restaurants I’ll never visit.

Clothes I’ll never buy.

Recipes I’ll never cook.

Books I’ll never read.

Workouts I’ll never do.

Apartments I’ll never live in.

Business ideas I’ll never build.

And that’s fine.

Maybe saving something doesn’t always mean:

I want to do this.

Sometimes it means:

I enjoyed imagining myself as someone who would do this.

That’s actually useful to know.

Not every aspiration needs converting into a goal.

Some can simply be nice possibilities.

The problem starts when we mistake collecting possibilities for living them.

So I’ve started using a slightly brutal rule

When I notice myself researching something for too long, I ask:

What information would actually change what I do next?

If I can’t answer that, I’m probably finished researching.

Another hotel review isn’t going to book Japan.

Another running video isn’t going to move my legs.

Another article about writing isn’t going to write the paragraph.

At some point, information stops reducing uncertainty and starts protecting us from action.

Because action is messy.

It closes possibilities.

Choose one restaurant and you don’t get the other seventeen.

Buy one camera and tomorrow somebody will upload a video explaining why another one is 4% better.

Start the business and the beautiful idea has to encounter customers.

Begin writing and the perfect book in your head becomes an imperfect sentence on a screen.

Research keeps everything possible.

Doing something forces one possibility to become real.

Maybe that’s why we delay it.

So yes, I still have the Japan folder.

It’s excellent.

Very comprehensive.

But I’ve decided I’m not allowed to watch another video about where to stay.

The next piece of research is going to be considerably shorter.

Flight.

Price.

Book.

Everything after that can be imperfect.

At least I’ll finally need the ramen advice.

#ModernLife #Procrastination #Overthinking #Productivity #DecisionMaking #Research #Planning #SelfImprovement #DigitalLife #Psychology #GettingThingsDone #Life #HumanBehaviour #CommunityWriting #Briflio