Mixed blessings: The Paradox of Choice

Barry Schwartz's new book, The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less, has a thesis that seems remarkable in an age of consumerism, deregulation and information overload: If people had fewer choices to make and attached less psychological weight to each decision, we might all feel less stressed and more satisfied.

I knew I had to read the book after watching Paul Solman's interview with Schwartz on PBS's NewsHour with Jim Lehrer. The interview took place at Christmastime, in the world's largest mall, at King of Prussia, PA. The 365-store behemoth was an ideal backdrop for demonstrating both the profusion of choices that face consumers and the emotional toll all those choices may take.

In the electronics store Solman and Schwartz visited, for example. there were three dozen cell phones on sale, with a choice of 30 different faces and 20 different plans. Without even thinking about available add-ons to the phones or modifications to the plans, that made 20,000 possible cell phone configurations available to the customer.

The same holds true for virtually every consumer product or service we purchase, not to mention more important choices like retirement plans or treatments for serious illnesses.

Barely a week after watching the interview, I helped my daughter decide on a health insurance plan at her new job. There were about 100 plans to choose from, with the employee share of the premimum ranging in cost from $40 to almost $400 per month. The plans had different annual deductibles, different co-pays for doctor visits and hospital stays, different prescription drug formularies, different rosters of in-network physicians and hosptitals, and numerous other variations that seemed to multiply the more we read the fine print. To make matters worse, my daughter was under pressure to choose quickly so that she could avoid paying an entire month's premium out of pocket to keep her previous insurance while she figured it all out.

Making such a significant decision rapidly and relying in part on someone else to sift through the available information was uncharacteristic for my daughter. In Schwartz's terms, she is a maximizer -- someone who needs assurance that "every purchase or decision [is] the best that could be made." In theory, the only way to gain that assurance is to check out all possible options.

The alternative to being a maximizer is to be a satisficer -- someone who sets standards and then settles for something "good enough" to meet them, without worrying about "the possibility that there might be something better." Schwartz points out that being a satisficer doesn't mean "settl[ing] for mediocrity." Instead, satisficers are "content with the merely excellent as opposed to the absolute best."

Schwartz uses the literature of economics, consumer behavior, and psychology (including some of his own research) to explore people's responses in the face of the "choice overload" that confronts Americans and others beset by abundance. He looks at the characteristics and consequences of various decision-making styles, neatly integrating just enough economic and psychological jargon to make his points accessible to the general reader. He argues that greater choice often leads not to greater happiness, but to regret, feelings of inadequacy, and even clinical depression.

The Paradox of Choice is written in lucid, engaging, often conversational style. The text is interspersed with self-scoring psychological tests (such as the "Maximization Scale" and the "Regret Scale"), homely examples (such as how people are affected by the offer of a cash discount versus a credit card surcharge), and aptly-chosen New Yorker cartoons (such as one of a maximizer college student whose tee shirt reads, "BROWN, BUT MY FIRST CHOICE WAS YALE"). Bibliographic references to the academic research appear in end notes that, while welcome, were difficult to use without losing Schwartz's train of thought.

Schwartz ends by proposing a series of admittedly difficult steps individuals can take "to mitigate -- even eliminate" the psychological distress that results from too many choices. Among Schwartz's suggestions are strategies for controlling the number of choices you consider when making decisions, minimizing regret, lowering expectations, and increasing gratitude.

It amounts in summary to "How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Satisficing," and I found it problematic. To me, it seemed like a lifetime's agenda for psychotherapy, rather than a realistic self-help program. Then again, maybe my daughter isn't the only maximizer in the family.