The syndrome of "someday": Why We Keep Putting Off the Trip of a Lifetime
The real science behind why your brain puts off exactly what you want most—and what it takes to stop it from doing so.
MEANWHILE, ON THE OTHER SIDEAlmost everyone has the "someday" syndrome
That trip that's been in your head for years, with a name and almost a date, but no real date. The one that comes up at family meals, the one saved in a Pinterest folder, the one that always starts with the same phrase: "Someday I'm going to go."
It's not laziness or a lack of motivation. In fact, it's usually just the opposite: the more a trip means to you, the easier it is to put it off.
We don't postpone trips. We postpone versions of ourselves
Give it a try. Think about that trip you've been saying you'll take for years. Now think about why you kept putting it off. Five years ago, you had one reason. Three years ago, a different one. Today, probably a third one.
Excuses change. Desire remains exactly the same.
If you’re offered €100 today or €110 tomorrow, most people choose the €100 today: waiting just one day "costs" too much. But if you’re offered €100 in 30 days or €110 in 31 days, almost everyone is willing to wait that extra day.
It's the same amount of time—twenty-four hours—but it's perceived completely differently depending on how far away it is.
Ainslie discovered that we don't value the future consistently, but rather according to a hyperbolic curve. That's why the journey of a lifetime always loses out to the here and now: today, it's up against a TV show that starts in five minutes, a notification, or genuine exhaustion after work. And it's months away, not minutes.
It's not that you don't want it enough. It's just that your brain compares things that can't be fairly compared.
What people regret most
isn't what you did
In 1994, Thomas Gilovich and Victoria Medvec discovered something that has since been replicated in various countries and with thousands of people: regret changes over time.
In the short term, what we've done carries more weight. In the long term, the pattern is completely reversed: What people regret most are the things they never got around to doing.
The pain of an action comes to a close—you made a mistake, you learned from it, and you move on. The pain of inaction doesn’t have that closure. And over the years, we tend to idealize what we didn’t experience and downplay what held us back back then. That’s exactly what fuels the "someday" syndrome.
"Someday" doesn't fade away with time. It grows.
MEDVEC
Telephone surveys, written questionnaires, and face-to-face interviews all reached the same conclusion: a person's greatest regrets in life tend to be things they failed to do.
No one remembers exactly how much money they spent. Everyone remembers the trip they never took.
An object is compared.
A memory isn't
In 2003, Leaf Van Boven and Thomas Gilovich directly compared the happiness derived from spending money on experiences versus spending it on material goods. They called it experiential advantage.
An object can be compared to someone else’s, and that comparison wears it down. It deteriorates; it goes out of style. A memory, on the other hand, gets better with time: the unpleasant parts fade away, and the good parts remain. And it’s almost always shared or recounted with someone else.
It's not just a nice saying about having experiences. It's a finding backed by more than twenty years of research—and the underlying reason why overcoming the "someday" syndrome is so worthwhile.
GILOVICH · 2003
57% of the respondents said they felt happier recalling an experiential purchase than a material one—and this pattern held true across all age groups and economic levels studied.
You don't need any more willpower.
You need a mast
Ulysses knew that the sirens' song would make him lose control. He didn't trust his future willpower: he had himself tied to the mast before to arrive. He didn't fight the urge—he made sure that, by the time it arrived, it would be too late to back down.
Behavioral economics calls this commitment device. It works the same way with much more mundane decisions.
A trip with a specific date already set—not "someday," but a specific day, with limited spots and a deadline—is exactly that: it takes away your future self’s ability to put it off again.
BENARTZI
Instead of asking people to save more now, they asked the workers to commit to saving more in the future, with their next pay raise. The savings rate rose from 3.5% to 13.6% in less than four years.
It works because it commits the person's future self at a time when saying "yes" is much easier.
Sometimes a single decision divides your life in two: the you who dreamed of taking that trip, and the you who finally set out on it.
And then, one day,
it is no longer just an idea
There's no cure for "someday" syndrome
with more willpower
Our trips depart only once a year, on a set date, with truly limited spots—because that’s how a small group works, not as a sales gimmick.
In ten years, you might have more money, a bigger house, and a nicer car. But you’ll never again be the age you are today, nor will you have the people who are with you today, nor this exact moment in your life.
That "someday" will never feel easier than it does today. The brain isn't designed to feel this way. The only thing that truly cures "someday" syndrome is for "someday" to eventually become an actual date.
One trip doesn't change the world.
It changes whoever returns from it.
Set a date.
We'll take care of the rest.
A maximum of thirteen people, one trip per year per destination, and one of us will be with you the entire trip.
The guide, free
Everything you need to know before setting a date.
