Too Many Options as a Source of Constant Life Frustration — and What to Do About It
Whatever you choose, you might’ve chosen better — and the number of choices in every area of your life is relentlessly growing.
When you enter a supermarket, the first thing you notice is the overwhelming amount of choices — or, at least, you wouldnotice if it were your first time. But since it’s probably not, the abundance has become a habit we rarely think about. Still, the choice is massive — feeling like a juice? What kind? What flavor? Fizzy or natural? In a bottle, carton, or plastic? What color? What brand? What size? And what if you need toothpaste, rice, kitchen paper, canned tuna, or soap? Each of those items will confront you with a significant challenge — which one to choose?
And when you do choose — say, a toothpaste — how do you know you’ve picked the “right” one? Is it actually good for your teeth? Is there another one just as good but cheaper? In the end — can you ever be truly satisfied with any choice? Or are you — consciously or subconsciously — frustrated by the fact that you’re presented with so many options, with no clear way to know which is best?
This is what’s called the paradox of choice. Why a paradox? Couldn’t we just call it a “problem”? Not quite — “paradox” fits better because that’s exactly what it is. Most of us want choice — not just about what to buy in a supermarket, but about jobs, marriage partners, college degrees… even toothpaste. We want freedom of choice — but that very freedom frustrates us, consumes our time (and often money), and leaves us generally dissatisfied.
The paradox of choice has been confirmed by numerous studies and observations showing that people generally respond negatively to too many options. For example, there was a study — you could call it a “paradox within a paradox.” Visitors to a shopping mall were presented with a table of jams. In one case, there were 6 varieties; in another, 24. More people were drawn to the larger selection — but they were ten times more likely to actually buy something when there were fewer choices.
This paradox — which confirms how difficult it is for people to make decisions — was first named and defined by psychologist Barry Schwartz in his 2004 book “The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less.” The book had a notable impact, even on the evolution of (some) supermarkets. For instance, UK retail giant Tesco reduced its product offering from 90,000 items to 60,000. This wasn’t necessarily due to Schwartz’s book but rather a response to increasing market share being taken by German chains Aldi and Lidl, which offer only 2,000 to 3,000 products. For example, Tesco had 28 types of ketchup — Aldi had just one.
The paradox directly clashes with what the Western world has been telling us for decades — that choice is good for us, that it gives us freedom and autonomy. In theory, that sounds rational. But in practice, it doesn’t hold up.
Schwartz concludes in his study that people are almost always less satisfied after making a final decision than they would’ve been if they’d had fewer choices from the start. As one extreme example, he mentions a friend whose company offered a staggering 156 different retirement plans. How can anyone choose one and be sure they didn’t miss a better one? You can’t — and that’s the root of constant frustration in today’s system.
Every time we finally choose something, we’ve inevitably rejected other alternatives that might have appealed to us — but are now out of reach.
It’s similar — though not identical — to buyer’s remorse, that feeling of regret after purchasing something expensive, like a car or house. In the case of the paradox of choice, we’re not necessarily depressed after leaving the store (except perhaps in this era of high inflation), but every decision we’re “forced” to make rarely brings real satisfaction.
Does this paradox affect everyone? Most likely — but to what extent can be tested easily. Next time you stand in front of a wall of choices, how long does it take you to pick between, say, vanilla and chocolate ice cream? If you decide instantly — good for you. But if you hesitate, you’re definitely feeling this paradox in action. And if there are ten more flavors? The choice becomes even harder. Can you be happy with your final pick? Maybe — unless you’re subconsciously haunted by the thought that you should’ve picked another.
Sure, this is a light example — your life won’t change because of the “wrong” ice cream. But life involves bigger, tougher decisions.
And that’s why it’s called a paradox, not a problem. What if we had no choice at all? Would you, for instance, agree to an arranged marriage, as is still common in some parts of the world? Some might say yes — but most would want the right to choose their own life partner. Still, we can acknowledge that for some people, life might actually be easier when big decisions are made for them. Of course, being aware you don’t have a choice can be painful and lead to rebellion. But that’s one extreme — the other is the illusion of infinite choice, which breeds constant frustration.
We’re surrounded by endless choices — and they keep expanding. This is the direct result of increased competition in almost every market sector. Again, we say this is good because we want to choose — but at the same time, it’s bad because we have to choose.
Take a simple example: How many TV channels did you have 25 years ago, and how many now? Do you enjoy having more? Possibly. Are you sometimes frustrated by the sheer number? Very likely. In every aspect of life, the number of options is increasing — and the paradox only deepens.
Is there a “cure”? To some extent, yes. For the system — no; the number of options will only grow. But you can take control — and that’s wise financially too. How? The solution is surprisingly simple: make the choice yourself before you’re forced to choose. In other words, know ahead of time what you want, when, and where. If you know what you want for lunch, write it down and go get it — don’t get distracted by all the extra options around you.
Having predefined preferences can be a powerful weapon. And we try to do that already — if we like a restaurant, we go back. If a vacuum cleaner brand satisfied us, we’ll stick with it. This is further evidence of how much the paradox of choice frustrates us — and how people try to protect themselves, consciously or not.
But it’s not easy — from toothpaste to the people we choose. Take modern dating, for example. Young people mostly meet through apps like Tinder, where potential partners are “offered” like products on shelves. How do you pick the right one and feel confident someone else wouldn’t have been better? You can’t. So we need a new framework for choosing — no matter the domain. Perhaps the real answer is to work on building more confidence in our decisions. Because no matter what we choose — it was our choice.