Can You Live with Your Choices?

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

 Most of us have definite preferences about what we want for breakfast. But when abundant choices are placed in front of us, indecision may reign. This happened to me recently at the omelet counter of a resort buffet. The masked chef stood before an impressive array of small metal bowls that were loaded with shredded bacon, both hot and sweet peppers, mushrooms, spinach, ham, onions, and several different cheeses. I thought I heard a muffled question, “What would you like?”  I just stood there stupidly, plate in hand, as the chef expertly cracked two eggs into an oiled fry pan and looked at me for answer. Stressed by the growing line of plate holders behind me, I defaulted to my familiar “bacon and cheese”.     

I got my usual ingredients, but as I watched others place their orders the next morning, I hatched a few theories. 

I wondered why so many immediately lined up at the omelet counter without stopping to look over the prepared choices sitting nearby. Some just ordered eggs, and then had choices of fried, scrambled, or poached, over easy or hard, on the spot. Customized choices made people feel special. People love preferences.

 I concluded that too many choices can produce confusion.  Research shows that people like the idea of having many choices available. Yet the act of choosing may prove frustrating.  When choices are limited at the start, we may be unhappy initially, but after choice is made, we become happier with our decision than when we make the very same choice from the bigger menu.  House or car purchases in a buyers’ market suggest a similar disappointment.  A surfeit of choices spawns “buyers’ remorse.”

Yet another possibility comes from my having turned promptly to familiar bacon and cheese.  When confronted by the time constraint of a quick decision, we tend to go with what we know best, and what we know will taste good.

The term for this phenomenon is “satisficing”.  Given certain circumstances -- like a line of plate holders standing behind you -- making the right or ideal choice becomes less important and less stressful than making a choice that seems good enough at the time.  This is like an archer’s decision when first he shoots an arrow, and then he paints a target around it.

Many avoid making a choice at all.  In an election we call this an abstention.  Among many reasons for stubbornly refusing to choose is disliking all the ingredients (candidates?) or protesting them, or just being indecisive.    

My career experience in education suggests another way to avoid or delay making a choice.  Sometimes it is strategically useful to call for lots more research before deciding.  As one of Parkinson’s laws suggests, “Delay is the deadliest form of denial.”   

There is still another possibility for coping with the omelet line.   What if my wife had been standing beside me? I could have asked, “What choice do you recommend?”  She might have said, “This is what I know you like!”  In culinary matters, often she knows me better than myself.  The point is, when a choice must be made, welcome reliable advice from others we trust.   Undoubtedly, this is one of the best ways to find an excellent restaurant.

Every one of our choices, big ones like what career to pursue, or smaller ones like  when to get out of bed in the morning, is constrained by a context.  We do not pay enough attention to the factors that influence our choices.  This can be crucial when we are expected to make choices for others. Do we stop to ask what prejudices we are bringing to that person’s table?

Our predispositions can be influenced by our culture, personality, our sense of self-control, or simply the way a choice makes us feel.     I am not sure where omelets fit on my emotional scale, but I do know that choices can be anything but economically rational.  I had already paid for my eggs.  

 In his classic book, Future Shock, published 50 years ago, Alvin Toffler pointed to “overchoice” as a villain. Technology and the internet certainly produce information overload.  The act of making choices can produce mental fatigue. 

There are some ways to make the demands of choice less taxing.  Not all of them work at once, but it can be helpful to figure out ways to reduce our options at the start.  Know the consequences of each choice by making them as specific as possible.  Put choices into simplified categories you can manage.  Set a deadline to avoid proliferating choices and unnecessary delays.  

At times choices seem like separate threads.  However, they interweave and become the fabric of our lives.  Choices become not just what we wear, but who we are.  When you make a choice, the best question is not whether it is the right decision, but whether you want to live with it.