As you already know, I can’t stop watching MTV’s The Real World. Last night, this year’s fey sociopath, Frank, who is like the spiritual hate-child of Ignatius J. Reilly and Blanche DuBois, cheated on his boyfriend out of promiscuity and lack of self-control. Although he claims that he loves this boyfriend, he also “doesn’t know what it’s like to be in a relationship” and “made a mistake” with some meth-head he met at a club. The episode ended with him and his jilted lover deciding that this just wasn’t the right time for him to settle down learn how to not purposefully destroy everything important to him.

The part that really interested me was the way his housemate Alex commiserated with him afterwards. Frank mused that, though he had erred, he should “have no regrets.” Alex agreed, saying, “I feel like you can be sorry, but you shouldn’t regret anything.” Then I cried for all the millenials, because what good is being sorry if it’s detached from any kind of education or reformation? In fact, being sorry is empty reflection any time it’s divorced from regret. Making mistakes is how we learn—we tell children as much.

Part of why I watch this show is to be baffled by the completely alien values and behavior of people who are not even a half-generation younger than me. Among that set, this allergy to regret seems to be taking hold (and the distancing phrase “everything happens for a reason” can never be far behind).

As much as I hate this phrase “everything happens for a reason”—some of the most godless people in the world seem ironically wedded to predestination—I realize that this is semantics. “Everything happens for a reason” used this way means that, with perspective, something positive can result from misfortune. What Alex means is that you can acknowledge a mistake, but that nothing can be gained from dwelling on one. It’s okay for contrition to be a fleeting reaction, but you shouldn’t use it to, you know, actually judge yourself negatively. And being sorry without regretting is just that, acknowledging a mistake you made while ignoring the misplaced motives that led to that mistake. Clearing the smoke without putting out the fire.

I mean, look, Frank, we all accidentally sleep with meth-heads. It’s true that you can’t go back and change the mistake. But you can change yourself. Everything does not just happen for some nebulous reason. Sometimes things happen because you made them happen and, in suggesting that you shouldn’t have regrets for wrong actions, you’re taking away accountability, as well as anything instructive that could have resulted from your mistakes.

In a way, regret and guilt are the most important impulses because they remind us that, if we were to do things over again, we would do them differently. Regret insists that we are imperfect, evolving humans. It’s a reminder that we are different people today than we were yesterday, and that growth can be more comforting than convincing yourself you were right. Anyone who wants to pretend otherwise is a fey sociopath.

Regret is a cornerstone of rational action. Believe it or not, there’s even a part of your brain that governs your behavior based on knowledge of past behavior and potential consequences; it’s just as natural as the compulsion to cheat on your boyfriend. And usually when you feel guilty, it’s for an excellent reason. It’s okay to hold onto that for a while.