Consider this classic case. Describing his encounter with a young man who was split asunder between staying with his remaining family or departing for a noble (albeit risky) mission during WWII, Sartre had only this to say to the young man: "You are free, so choose; in other words, invent. No general code of ethics can tell you what you ought to do; there are no signs in this world." (existentialism is a humanism, pp. 33)
Or consider another case. This one is by Joseph Fletcher whose example is really quite beautiful not to quote in full. Here goes:
"It is night, black dark. A man (you or I) is in a small boat, drifting down toward a roaring waterfall. He can hear, but he cannot see or be seen. He is wide-awake. Any choice he makes may be meaningless. If he rows, madly and no matter how hard, he may be swept over the edge. If he does nothing at all, he may be wedged safely against a rock until daylight and rescue come. He cannot know what to do. The current carries him along whatever he decides. It is impossible to ask for time out until he can pretest alternatives. And after all, not to choose either way is to choose one way. Not to make a decision is itself a decision. He cannot escape his freedom. He is bound to be free." (situational ethics, pp. 154)
Neither case is a comfortable one for the conscientious decision-maker. Sartre asks us to invent. But this suggestion merely further begs the question: 'on what premise ought my invention be based upon?'. Is there an invention without reference or premise? Can there be one without reference or premise? Can we just simply invent out of the blue? To invent with neither reference nor premise is not inventing; it is like...burping (defined: as an uncontrollable and non-cognitive bodily phenomenon). Hence does the Sartrean freedom ultimately commit us to decision-making as burping? I don't think so. While Sartre's point is well-taken, he has merely demurred on the real decision to be made.
In contrast, Fletcher's case is only descriptive. I suppose most human beings caught in Fletcher's case err not so much in 'he cannot know what to do' rather than 'he does not know what to do'. Furthermore, no human being has the freedom not to choose, so to speak. Because of this, I conclude to the opposite of Fletcher: the human being is not free, because he cannot not choose. In other words, he or she can never do nothing (because even doing nothing is doing something).
Although it is tempting, I do not intend to explain the bad things happening in the world today by scaling up from these two cases demonstrating the perplexities of decision-making (even if we tried). Neither am I trying to insinuate that freedom is a metaphysical form of non-action. All said, these two cases do show that for the most perplexing decisions we can ever make, they are often only good guesses even when made under the most calculative conscientiousness.
Hence should we stop making decisions? I believe I have showed that it is impossible not to make one. How can we make good decisions? I believe I have showed that nobody--at least not yet--has a good answer for this question.
Finally, what is the take-away point on this issue? On this question I think I have a pragmatic answer: be gracious--to all if possible--for no one yet knows how to make a good decision.