The Problem with Abundance
How too much choice is making us sick
Capitalism and modernity certainly has its perks. 24/7 access to clean water. Air-conditioned buildings and automobiles. Chocolate croissants. These are all nice things.
What is not so nice is the mental tax it tends to levy on our daily errands. Let me explain.
Yesterday I went to the local grocery store to buy olive oil; only to find out there are eight-hundred-and-seventy-six varieties to choose from. Mild tasting? Strong tasting? Extra virgin? Refined? Bertolli or Borges? Then there is the issue of price. “Would I prefer the local, cheaper brand and risk regretting the quality, or sell half of my assets to purchase the Italian-imported one?”
This decision paralysis not only haunts me in the olive oil section, but in many other sections as well— shampoos, beef, poultry, vegetables, confectionery — the list goes on. The sheer number of choices one is forced to make in a mundane trip to the grocery store is starting to get to me.
At first glance, it is possible that I — like many others — am simply inept at making decisions. Over-thinking has always been my Achilles heel. Maybe this is merely a personal issue of mine. But after a moment of reflection, I am reminded of a book by prominent American psychologist Barry Schwartz that may offer a reasonable antidote towards my self-loathing.
In his book The Paradox of Choice — Why More is Less, Schwartz outlines how the excessive availability of options in today’s modern world is actually counterproductive towards our well-being.
The concept of freedom and choice are fundamental building blocks in the philosophies of modern western democracy. Certainly, more freedom is better than no freedom — just ask the citizens of North Korea. And certainly, more choice is better than no choice — just ask the citizens of the Republic of Chad.
But Schwartz argues that there is certainly such a thing as having too much freedom, too much choice. The essence of his book can be summed up by one of his opening statements: “The fact that some choice is good does not necessarily mean more choice is better.”
Decision Paralysis
Schwartz shares an interesting experiment showing the effects of excessive choice towards decision making. In the first scenario of the experiment, customers were offered to buy a CD player for $99, well below the market price for CD players at the time (bear in mind that this book was published in 2004). 66% of the people chose to buy the CD player, whilst 34% chose to wait.
In a second scenario, customers were offered to choose between two products well below their market price: a CD player for $99, or a high-quality speaker for $169. Both were fantastic deals, given the steep discount. 27% chose to buy the CD player, 27% chose to buy the speaker, 46% chose to wait.
This is what happened: When presented with one attractive option, only 34% of people choose to wait. When presented with two attractive options, 46% of people choose to wait. In other words, more attractive options create more doubt in decision makers, and increases the likelihood of decision paralysis — the lack of ability to make a decision.
According to Schwarz, this decision paralysis is due to the cognitive conflict that is created within our minds from the introduction of the second choice. When only one choice was presented (the $99 CD player), there was no conflict due to the fact that the product was priced well below the market price. The benefit was clear.
But once the speaker was introduced, there is a conflict of which product provides the best trade-off between price and quality. Is the CD player a better deal for $99 or is the speaker a better deal for $169, given their respective qualities? This extra cognitive-load (additional confusion) is sufficient enough to make more people wait — either to delay making a decision, or choose to not make a decision at all.
Thus, one thing that having multiple choices manifest is delayed decision making. And it logically extrapolates that the more comparable choices one has, the greater the decision paralysis.
“Could have…Would have… Should have…” — The monster of Regret
Another natural byproduct of greater optionality is a greater risk of experiencing regret. Decision paralysis is not only caused by the heavy cognitive-algebra that we have to endure when weighing our options, but also by our feelings of anticipatory regret — the fear that we will make the wrong decision. Indeed, hard decisions are hard to make partly because the stakes are so high, which create higher potential consequences for making the wrong decision.
Schwartz distinguishes between two types of regret: regret due to omission (not doing something) and the regret of commission (doing something). When psychologists asked people in detail on what they regret; it turns out that people tend to have commission regrets in the short tun, and omission regrets in the long run.
People regret making the wrong decisions in the short run (commission regrets) — I regret trying that horrible restaurant, watching that boring movie, going out with that guy…. All of these are actions that have been taken that have not turned out so well.
But when asked about what they regret on their lives as a whole, people say things like — I regret not trying harder at school, not taking that career opportunity when I had the chance, not learning that language, not having children when I had the chance…. These are all actions that could have been taken — but were not taken. In the long run, your regrets tend to be regrets of omission, “could have, would have, should have.”
The older we get, our sins of omission are felt more acutely than our sins of commission. I think this is intuitive for all of us (especially the old and wise amongst you reading this). Regrets of commission can certainly be painful. Presumably we have all done stupid things in the past. One may have lost money, lost time, or lost friendships due to the regrettable decisions that have been made. But at the very least, the outcome is not uncertain. There is no ambiguity in commission regrets, the outcome — albeit negative — is known.
Omission regrets are possibly more painful due to its frustrating ambiguity. One will never know what could have been — if you had chosen a particular path when you had the opportunity, but didn’t. There is a certain sense of loss — of missed opportunity, missed chances — in omission regrets.
Given that in the long run, our regrets tend to be regrets of omission (things that we did not do) instead of regrets of commission (things that we did do); does that imply that we should have a bias for action, instead of inaction? Is it an intelligent strategy to take more risks and try, rather than not try at all?
Probably. But not necessarily. There is a smarter, more philosophical way to approach the issue of regret.
