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The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less
by Barry Schwartz
A review by Doug Brown
In the film Moscow on the Hudson, Robin Williams plays a Communist-era
Russian defector in New York City. In a memorable scene, he goes to a supermarket
for coffee; encountering an aisle full of different brands of coffee to choose
from, he faints from the overload, mumbling the word "coffee" over and
over. Barry Schwartz understands the feeling. Schwartz is not a "let's get
back to the good old days when we had nothing and liked it" Luddite; he acknowledges
the freedom to make choices is a vital part of the richness of our lives. The
paradox is that the more options we have, the less satisfied we often are with
the choices we make.
An example given near the beginning of The Paradox of Choice illustrates
the issue. A store had a special where they put out several types of gourmet
jam for customers to try, and if folks bought a jar they received a coupon for
a dollar off. The special was run twice, once with six varieties of jam, and
once with twenty-four. The latter case brought more customers to the table,
though in both cases most folks sampled about the same number of jams. Here's
the interesting part: in the instance with six jams, 30% of customers bought
a jar, but on the occasion with twenty-four samples, only 3% of people bought
a jar. Why? Schwartz suggests that when there were fewer choices, people felt
confident they had sampled the range and knew which one they liked best. When
there were more options, people were less likely to commit to a selection, because
one of the others still untried might be better. Therein lies the paradox. Like
Robin Williams's character in Moscow on the Hudson, people can become
debilitated from having too many choices.
Schwartz splits people into maximizers and satisficers. Maximizers
feel the need to try all possible options; they have to find the very best one.
Satisficers are willing to try a few things and select that which is good enough.
Studies suggest that maximizers are often less happy with their choices than
satisficers, largely because maximizers are more emotionally invested in those
choices. Maximizers spend much more time and energy making choices; instead
of going to one store and trying a couple of items, they must go to all
the stores and try all the items.
As you might have guessed, Schwartz suggests one way we can help improve our
lives is to practice being satisficers. We can do this by willfully placing
limits on ourselves, choosing to limit our options. Just as we can decide to
limit ourselves to two drinks in an evening, try limiting yourself to only checking
two stores the next time you have a decision to make (or two products, or two
possible vacation destinations, or two possible restaurants, or two menu items,
etc., etc.). Think about how important the decision really is to you before
investing energy making it: do you really want to spend all day buying a pair
of jeans? After making the decision, enjoy it for itself, without dwelling on
the other things you could have bought, the other restaurants you could have
eaten at, and so on. Accept that no matter how initially pleased you are with
your choice, adaptation will occur and the glow will fade; rather than becoming
regretful when you aren't deliriously happy with your new purchase any more,
be ready for adaptation, and accept it as part of how our brains work.
Regret is the topic of an interesting chapter. In yet another paradox, people
are usually more regretful the closer they come to glory. Silver medal winners
are often more regretful than bronze medalists, because if only some little
thing had changed or been done differently, they might have won the gold. Bronze
medal winners are more likely to re-examine downward rather than upward; they
are just grateful to have won a medal, because if one little thing had changed
they could have not placed at all. Someone who misses a plane by five minutes
will usually be more regretful than someone who missed it by half an hour, even
though both people are still stuck at the airport. Schwartz suggests that we
can be happier by reviewing downwards rather than upwards; concentrate more
on how worse things could have been, rather than how much better. Maximizers
tend to constantly imagine that maybe a better choice could have been made,
which leads to more regret with their decisions. To counter this tendency, Schwartz
suggests making a list of five things you are grateful for every day. Sure,
it's corny, but if there's a tiny chance that getting yourself into that frame
of mind might make you happier, why not?
To me, The Paradox of Choice is the best kind of self-help book: one
that isn't a self-help book. It provides a wealth of information on how our
minds work, and then suggests ways to work within that framework to improve
our outlook. Schwartz writes in a light companionable voice, and avoids presenting
himself as The Enlightened One handing down pearls from on high. He gives examples
where he has fallen into all the traps discussed in the book, showing he is
still struggling right along with us. If you've ever spent all day buying a
simple item, if you tend to examine your choices regretfully, or you have other
maximizer tendencies (and almost all of us do), The Paradox of Choice
offers perspectives and functional tips for reducing stress and increasing contentment
in a choice-filled world.
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