It often seems like a no-brainer: after months or even years away from beloved activities or close friends, one might expect people to jump at the first opportunity to return. But surprising new research suggests the opposite may be true—intense longing can actually morph into procrastination, with people intentionally delaying joyous reunions and experiences in the hope of making them even more meaningful. This paradox, revealed in a new study published in the journal PNAS Nexus and summarized by Neuroscience News, uncovers a hidden link between pleasure and procrastination that has powerful implications for personal happiness and social connection (Neuroscience News).
For Thai readers, these findings cast light on a phenomenon that resonates deeply in a post-pandemic world, where many once cherished social and cultural rituals—from family dinners to Songkran celebrations—were put on hold. The research challenges common assumptions about human motivation and urges a closer look at the psychological barriers that prevent us from seizing positive moments when they return.
The study, led by behavioral scientists from the University of Southern California and The University of Chicago, set out to investigate why people may postpone returning to enjoyable activities—even when there are no external obstacles. Through a series of surveys and controlled experiments, the researchers observed that the longer people felt they had been away from a pleasurable activity or social connection, the more likely they were to delay their return. Crucially, the postponement wasn’t rooted in avoidance or reluctance, but in an almost ritualistic desire to make the comeback feel “extra special.”
One striking experiment involved 200 university students, who were given the choice between sending a brief appreciation message to a friend or completing a dull administrative task. The students who had recently been in contact with their friend (on average, just a week prior) were significantly more likely—55%—to choose the rewarding option and reconnect. In contrast, only 41% of those who had not been in touch for about a year took the step to reach out. These results suggest that the emotional weight of perceived “lost time” can become a barrier not just to difficult tasks, but even to joyful ones.
A similar pattern emerged from larger surveys in the United States conducted after the end of COVID-19 shutdowns. Respondents who perceived a longer gap since engaging in favorite activities—such as dining out, attending movies, or visiting family—were more likely to delay resuming those pleasures, anticipating that the return would be even more satisfying if timed just right. This pattern runs counter to intuition, as conventional wisdom would suggest the pent-up desire should lead to a rush of joyful reunions. Instead, “Right now may simply never feel quite special enough,” the authors wrote.
When participants were asked about their reasons for holding back, many said they wanted their return to feel meaningful and memorable—a celebration, not just a routine occurrence. Rather than jumping at the first opportunity, they set a higher bar for what would make the moment worthy of the wait. In doing so, however, they risked perpetuating a cycle of delay that undermined their immediate happiness, sometimes missing out on the very connections and experiences they longed for.
The study has important implications for understanding both individual behaviors and wider social trends, including in Thailand where bonds of family, friendship, and community are deeply woven into the social fabric. Behavioral scientists suggest this tendency may explain why some Thais hesitate before reviving old traditions or reconnecting with loved ones after long absences, especially during festive seasons or after significant disruptions like the pandemic.
A senior psychologist from Chulalongkorn University, who was not involved in the study, remarked, “In Thai culture, the idea of making an occasion ‘wan poot yai’—a big occasion—is strong. This research shows there can be a downside: we sometimes wait for the perfect moment which may never come.” This insight highlights the way cultural values intersect with universal psychological patterns.
The findings draw on established principles in the fields of behavioral economics and social psychology, further enriched by recent pandemic-related disruptions worldwide. In many Thai households, for example, the prolonged cancellation of large gatherings and religious ceremonies led to a collective yearning for reunion. Yet when restrictions lifted, hesitation often lingered, driven by concerns about safety as well as the urge to mark these moments as truly special. The phenomenon is not unique to Thailand, but intersects with uniquely Thai concepts of social obligation and face-saving, where the desire for a meaningful return may compete with underlying anxieties about how to reconnect after a long absence (Neuroscience News).
From a public health perspective, this research also sheds light on the broader patterns of social withdrawal and delayed help-seeking that can accompany periods of isolation. The cyclical nature of longing and procrastination may contribute to patterns of loneliness, particularly among elderly Thais who live alone or have lost touch with family and community networks. A public health official from the Ministry of Public Health confirms that “delayed return to normal activity does affect mental health, especially for at-risk groups. Understanding this dynamic can help in designing outreach programmes that encourage reconnection without waiting for a ‘perfect’ moment.”
The root of this procrastination, according to the study, lies in how people frame the opportunity to return. When researchers encouraged participants to see “any chance to return” as inherently special—rather than setting unrealistic expectations about the right moment—the tendency to delay diminished. In psychological terms, reappraising the situation helped people overcome self-imposed barriers and seize rewarding experiences sooner.
While the research was conducted primarily with American participants, there are both universal and culturally specific lessons for Thais. Experts note that traditional Thai values—such as sanuk (the pursuit of fun) and kreng jai (restraint out of consideration for others)—can play both supportive and inhibitory roles in the decision to reconnect. For example, wanting to make a family reunion especially memorable could unintentionally cause far longer delays between gatherings, especially in busy urban settings like Bangkok where logistics, family obligations, and work commitments all add to scheduling challenges.
The researchers warn that this “joy delay” effect can become a self-reinforcing cycle. The longer people wait to reconnect, the more daunting and emotionally burdensome the return may feel. Over time, this can evolve into cycles of avoidance, even when the underlying desire for connection or pleasure remains strong. This insight is particularly relevant for those struggling with social anxiety, grief, or depression, where missed opportunities for joy can deepen emotional distance.
Historical patterns in Thailand provide useful perspective on the phenomenon. After the 2004 tsunami, many affected communities in the South hesitated before resuming annual religious and cultural gatherings, with some families reporting that it “didn’t feel right” to celebrate so soon after tragedy. Similarly, after political turmoil or disaster, there is often a period of collective pause before normal life resumes, sometimes for logistical reasons, but often out of respect or in search of the “appropriate” emotional tone.
Looking forward, the study’s authors suggest practical strategies for overcoming joy delay. Individuals can benefit by reframing the act of reconnecting as meaningful in itself—regardless of the timing or occasion. Community leaders, event organizers, and health professionals can play an active role by creating more accessible, low-threshold opportunities for reunions and pleasurable activities that don’t require elaborate preparation or perfect timing. For Thai families, this could mean maintaining regular contact through smaller, informal gatherings while waiting for major events like New Year or Songkran.
For workplaces and educational institutions in Thailand, where team-building events and alumni gatherings are often delayed in search of the “right moment,” the research serves as a reminder that the psychological barriers to positive engagement are real, but manageable. HR specialists at a leading Thai conglomerate point out that “sometimes it’s better to just start—schedule a coffee, have a short catch-up, and not worry so much about making it grand. The important thing is to reconnect.”
In daily life, practical recommendations for Thai readers include making the first step smaller and less intimidating—sending a simple message, meeting for coffee instead of a banquet, or joining a group activity without waiting for a formal invitation. Mental health advocates suggest using modern technology, such as LINE or Facebook groups, to bridge time gaps and facilitate reconnections even if meeting in person is delayed.
The “joy delay” effect invites reflection on broader questions of time, meaning, and the rhythms of Thai social life. It highlights the delicate balance between honoring tradition and seizing opportunities for everyday happiness. As the world gradually emerges from years of uncertainty, Thais can look for inspiration from the wisdom that sometimes, the perfect moment to return is the moment available right now.
For those who can relate to the feeling of waiting for the right time to revisit something or someone loved, experts encourage action: don’t wait for a special occasion—make the next moment special by simply showing up. As research shows, the joy of reconnection lies less in timing than in taking that very first step.
For further reading and the original research article, see: Neuroscience News; PNAS Nexus “Lost time undermines return behavior”.