We’re Dying. Here’s How to Make Better Decisions.

The night my friend died, I spent 20 minutes debating whether to order takeout or just scavenge through my fridge for leftovers. I’d already scrolled through three different food delivery apps, weighing the pros and cons of pad Thai versus a burrito bowl, when my phone buzzed. The text was short. Just five words: “Call me. It’s about Sam*.”

At first, I didn’t even register the weight of it. I thought maybe Sam had gotten into some drama — maybe another bad breakup, another dumb story to laugh about later. But as soon as I called, I knew. Before they said anything. When they finally spoke, the words didn’t even seem real. “Sam’s gone,” they said. And I just sat there, staring at my stupid phone with Uber Eats still open on the screen, an unfinished burrito order mocking me.

I wish I could say I broke down right away, but I didn’t. It was like my brain refused to process it. Instead, I went into autopilot mode. First thought: Do I cancel the food order? Second thought: Should I tell anyone? Third thought: What am I supposed to do now? I ended up pacing around my apartment for ten minutes, pretending to look busy, before finally sitting down on the couch and scrolling Instagram like a zombie.

The grief didn’t hit me until the next morning. I was brushing my teeth when I realized I’d never hear Sam’s laugh again. Sam was that friend who could tease me, make me laugh, and find the cracks in my armor. And now? Now I couldn’t even remember the last real thing we talked about.

At the memorial, everyone kept telling stories about how Sam lived so fully, like every day was an adventure. And there I was, sitting in the back, haunted by the realization that I was living my life like it was a to-do list. Sam always knew how to make time for the things that mattered — camping trips, late-night drives, even just sitting in a coffee shop for hours talking about nothing. Meanwhile, I’d been so busy agonizing over work deadlines and meaningless errands that I’d canceled on them the last three times they invited me out.

That thought still guts me. I’d told myself I was too busy. That I’d see them “next time.” And now there wasn’t going to be a next time. Just a lifetime of thinking about the texts I didn’t send and the calls I didn’t make because I thought I had more time.

The small, everyday choices feel so inconsequential. But it’s the missed opportunities, the things left undone, that haunt us most. The stakes of a single moment are invisible until hindsight sharpens them into something unbearable, and suddenly, even the simplest decision —to reach out, to leave it until tomorrow— can feel monumental.

Here’s a fun game: Count how many decisions you’ve made today. Coffee vs tea with breakfast. The route to work. The email you chose to answer first. The lunch spot. Whether to check your phone just now. Whether to keep reading this article.

You’re probably in the hundreds already, and it’s not even noon.

Now here’s a less fun game: Count how many of those decisions you’ll remember on your deathbed.

I’ll wait.

We’re drowning in decisions, but starving for meaning. We’ve developed sophisticated frameworks for everything from A/B testing website buttons to optimizing YouTube thumbnails, but we don’t have robust (or anything approaching robust) methods for distinguishing between decisions that matter and those that don’t in our personal lives.

The result? We spend our finite time agonizing over decisions that will be forgotten by tomorrow — like which email to answer first or which Netflix series to binge — while neglecting the ones that define the arc of our lives. We get caught up in the churn of low-stakes, high-frequency choices that dominate modern living, distracting ourselves from the rare, high-stakes decisions that shape who we are, what we stand for, and the legacy we leave behind.

Without a clear framework to guide us, we fall into the trap of mistaking manic, frantic activity for purpose. We confuse the endless pursuit of productivity — ticking boxes and clearing to-do lists — for a meaningful life. We equate activity with progress, but if we ever pause to reflect, we find ourselves wondering if we’ve been running in the wrong direction.

The noise of daily demands drowns out the signal of what really matters, leaving us disconnected from the deeper fulfillment that comes from aligning our actions with our values. In the absence of any intent, we spend our lives climbing ladders only to realize they were leaning against the wrong walls.

Death as a Feature, Not a Bug

Most productivity systems treat death as an inconvenient truth to be ignored. They focus on optimizing your daily schedule, increasing your output, or maximizing your “life satisfaction” — all while carefully avoiding the elephant in the room: everything ends.

But what if we turned this on its head? What if, instead of treating mortality as a bug in the system, we used it as the core feature?

This is what you could almost call the Mortality Matrix.

The Mortality Matrix does exactly this. It evaluates decisions based on two key metrics:

1. How much this choice matters relative to your finite lifespan
2. How urgent the decision is relative to death’s unknowable timeline

When mapped on a 2x2 grid, these create four distinct quadrants:

The Four Quadrants

Quadrant I: High Significance, High Urgency

These are the “deathbed decisions” — choices that both matter tremendously and need to be made soon. Examples include:

• Reconciling with estranged family members
• Pursuing a long-delayed dream
• Making major health decisions
• Starting a family (if you want one)

The tragedy is that these decisions often get postponed precisely because of their weight. We tell ourselves “there’s always tomorrow” — until there isn’t.

Quadrant II: High Significance, Low Urgency

These are the “slow burn” choices that shape the arc of your life:

• Building deep relationships
• Developing wisdom and character
• Creating meaningful work
• Maintaining health habits

These decisions compound over time, making them arguably the most important category. But their lack of urgency makes them easy to neglect in favor of the more pressing matters. Or at least, the things that feel more pressing. 

Quadrant III: Low Significance, High Urgency

This is pretty much the modern attention crisis in a nutshell. This quadrant includes:

• Most work emails marked “urgent”
• Social media notifications
• Minor daily crises
• The latest outrage cycle

These decisions feel important in the moment but fade quickly. They’re the junk food of the decision-making world — temporarily satisfying but nutritionally empty.

Quadrant IV: Low Significance, Low Urgency

The land of “someday” decisions:

• Organizing your sock draw
• Watching Desperate Housewives
• Updating your LinkedIn profile
• Catching up on YouTube reaction videos 

These aren’t necessarily bad choices, but they shouldn’t consume significant mental bandwidth.

The Matrix in Practice

Perfectly categorizing every decision you make is a waste of time (and good luck with that), but in shifting your decision-making paradigm. It nudges you to ask: “How will this matter when I’m dying?”

This isn’t morbid thinking. Or at least, I don’t see it that way. It’s using death as a clarifying lens — a tool for cutting through the noise of modern life to focus on what matters.

Focus on Quadrants I and II

• Prioritize Quadrant I immediately. These are the choices that will haunt you if you delay. If you’re unsure where to start, consider what you’d most regret leaving undone.
• Schedule time for Quadrant II. These may not feel urgent, but neglecting them diminishes your future. Block time to nurture long-term health, relationships, and meaningful projects.

Limit Time in Quadrant III

Recognize that much of what feels urgent — emails, pings, petty conflicts — rarely matters in the grand scheme. Delegate, delay, or dismiss these where possible. If you must engage, set strict boundaries to avoid being sucked in.

Consciously Enjoy Quadrant IV

The Matrix isn’t anti-fun — it’s about intentionality. Quadrant IV activities can be delightful breaks when chosen deliberately. Watching reality TV or organizing your socks have their place (don’t judge), but only when they’re not displacing higher-quadrant priorities.

Some practical applications:

1. Career Moves: Instead of asking “Will this advance my career?” ask “Will this matter when I look back on my life’s work?” Sometimes these align. Often they don’t.
2. Relationship Decisions: The matrix helps distinguish between superficial social obligations and meaningful connections. That awkward conversation you’ve been avoiding with your sister? Probably Quadrant I. That LinkedIn connection request? Probably Quadrant IV.
3. Time Management: Start your day by identifying which quadrant each task belongs to. You’ll be surprised how many “urgent” tasks aren’t actually significant.

Common Failure Modes

The Mortality Matrix isn’t foolproof. Watch out for these pitfalls:

1. The “Everything is Significant” Trap: When you start viewing decisions through a mortality lens, it’s tempting to see everything as potentially life-changing. Resist this. Not every choice needs to bear the weight of your entire existence.
2. Analysis Paralysis: The matrix should simplify decisions, not complicate them. If you’re spending 20 minutes applying the framework to choose lunch, you’re doing it wrong.
3. Urgency Bias: We’re naturally drawn to urgent tasks, even when they’re not significant. The matrix helps identify this bias but doesn’t automatically correct it.

Beyond Individual Decisions

The implications of the Mortality Matrix extend beyond personal decision-making. Consider:

• Corporate Culture: What if companies evaluated projects not just by ROI, but by their significance to employees’ finite lives? Would this change how we structure work?
• Education: How would schools differ if they prioritized teaching students to distinguish between significant and insignificant decisions?
• Social Media: What if platforms included features to help users evaluate the significance of their engagement relative to their limited time?

The Critics’ Corner

Some will argue that constantly viewing decisions through the lens of mortality is paralyzing or depressing. Others might say it’s impractical for day-to-day choices.

These criticisms miss the point. The matrix isn’t meant to be a perfect decision-making tool, but rather a corrective lens for our modern myopia. It’s about developing better intuitions for what matters, not obsessing over every choice.

A New Mental Model

In a world of infinite inputs competing for finite attention, we need better filters. The Mortality Matrix offers one such filter, using the ultimate constraint — death — as a clarifying force.

It won’t solve all your decision-making challenges. It won’t tell you which job to take or whether to end that relationship. But it will help you approach these decisions with greater clarity about what truly matters in the finite time you have.

You will make thousands more decisions today. Some will be remembered. Most won’t. The question is: Which ones will you consciously choose to make significant?

Choose wisely. Time’s ticking.