When a goal is not enough: the criterion for choosing

An objective can be useful, but it is not always enough to guide choices. “Increase turnover”, “change jobs”, “find more time”, “publish continuously” are understandable intentions. The problem arises when they become the only parameter. To reach them, you then end up saying yes to any action that seems promising, even if it brings with it costs that you hadn’t considered: dispersion, neglected relationships, unsustainable work, loss of quality.

A criterion allows you to evaluate an option before turning it into a commitment. It does not replace the goal; it gives the goal a workable shape. It is the question that helps distinguish a useful possibility from one that merely creates noise. Without a criterion, every proposal appears urgent. With one, some proposals can remain interesting without becoming priorities.

The goal says where, the criterion says how

Imagine a professional who wants to make their work more visible. The goal is clear. But without a criterion, they may open new channels, accept inconsistent invitations, buy tools they will not use and publish without continuity. In the end, they may have done a great deal without building a recognisable presence.

The criterion might be: I choose activities that build trust without requiring me to be everywhere. Or: I invest first in what I can sustain for six months. Or again: I accept only projects that allow me to use the skills for which I want to be chosen. These are not rigid rules. They are filters that make it easier to set aside what is not needed now.

The same goes for those who lead a team. The goal could be to improve the speed of decisions. Without criteria, the most immediate response is to increase meetings and checks. With a criterion, you can choose to make responsibilities, necessary information and margins of autonomy explicit. The result depends not only on how much you do, but on what logic guides what you do.

Three criteria that make priorities clearer

The first criterion is consistency. Does this choice reinforce the declared direction or does it only serve to resolve a pressure of the moment? A person who wants to work in greater depth, for example, should look not only at the immediate profit of a new activity, but also at the time it takes away from important work.

The second criterion is sustainability. It’s not enough to ask yourself if you are capable of doing something once. You have to ask yourself if you can keep it without paying an excessive price. An editorial strategy that requires daily publications may seem effective on paper, but become fragile if it does not leave room for research, curation and recovery. Sustainability is no small ambition. It’s the way in which ambition continues to produce effects even after the initial enthusiasm.

The third criterion is learning. Some choices do not immediately produce a measurable result, but generate useful skills, relationships or information. Others promise a lot and leave nothing. Asking yourself what you learn from a project, a client or a collaboration helps you recognize the value that doesn’t appear in an immediate table.

To make these criteria actionable, it’s helpful to write them down before a new request arrives. There is no need to create a complicated document. A few lines are enough to indicate what you want to protect in the following months. When a proposal arrives, the evaluation does not start from scratch. You are confronted with a decision made in a calmer moment, not in the midst of urgency.

Another useful step is to distinguish opportunities into three categories: to be seized, to be observed, to be let go. The first category includes what is consistent and sustainable. The second collects what could become interesting later, when conditions or priorities change. The third includes activities that are not absolutely wrong, but have no place in the current path. This distinction avoids both impulsive rejection and indistinct accumulation.

The criterion can also be discussed with the people involved. In a team, stating how priorities are evaluated reduces the feeling that some requests are receiving attention for unseen reasons. In a professional relationship, explaining the boundaries of a project protects trust better than promises that are impossible to keep. Clarity does not eliminate conflicts, but it makes it easier to deal with them without turning them into personal judgments.

Finally, there is an often overlooked criterion: the possibility of concluding. Before starting a new project it is worth asking yourself what should happen for that project to be considered finished, useful and archiveable. Many people don’t have a problem with ideas, but with openness. Paths, tools, columns and collaborations begin without defining a perimeter. Thus every initiative continues to ask for attention even when it no longer produces value.

Defining a closing point does not impoverish ambition. It allows you to gain experience, evaluate the result and consciously choose whether to continue. An editorial test can last eight weeks. A new routine can be observed for a month. A collaboration can include a review after a specific number of activities. This structure makes it easier to correct course without experiencing every change as a defeat.

An objective therefore becomes more reliable when it is accompanied by explicit criteria, sustainable conditions and moments of verification. You don’t need to have a definitive answer for everything. You need to know what question to ask when new possibilities arrive. This is what avoids chasing everything and allows you to choose what really deserves presence.

Before making your next choice, try to write a simple sentence: I accept this possibility if it strengthens the direction, if I can support it and if it leaves me with something that is also valid later. It’s not a magic formula. It’s a reminder against rushing. Over time it becomes a more adult way of using objectives: not as constant pressure, but as a reference for building results that also have a livable form.

Saying no without losing important opportunities

Saying no doesn’t mean shutting down. It means preventing every possibility from becoming a deviation. Sometimes the fear is that of missing the right opportunity. In reality, the absence of criteria increases the opposite risk: dedicating so much energy to marginal options that you don’t see the truly relevant ones when they arrive.

A reasoned no can be formulated without dramatising: it’s not the time, it’s not the most suitable format, it doesn’t fit into current priorities, it requires resources that today I don’t want to take away from an already open project. This language is more honest than the yes given to avoid temporary discomfort and withdrawn later with difficulty.

This also applies to opportunities that seem once-in-a-lifetime. If they are truly consistent with the direction, a clear answer today does not destroy them: it allows them to be reopened with more resources, more context and a better proposal. If, however, they disappear as soon as you ask for time to evaluate them, they were probably asking for urgency, not trust.

The most useful choice, sometimes, is to postpone a response for a few hours. That margin allows you to distinguish the desire not to lose anything from the real value of the proposal.

We asked Alessandro Garau, CEO of Vision to Value: “A useful direction does not require certainty about everything. It requires us to stop calling ‘chance’ the choices we keep postponing.” The point is not to find a perfect formula, but to begin using a clear and shareable criterion to understand the options in front of us.

For more information about Alessandro Garau and the perspectives developed by Vision to Value, explore the project pages and the articles devoted to vision, coaching and strategic marketing.

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