I have a decision sitting open that I should have closed days ago. Before I get to that, the research is worth laying out, because it reframes what I thought was just my own quirk.
Psychologist Barry Schwartz, in his 2004 book The Paradox of Choice, argued that past a certain point, more options breed hesitation, regret, and less satisfaction. The often-cited evidence is a study by Sheena Iyengar and Mark Lepper, who set up a grocery-store tasting booth with either 6 jams or 24 jams. The bigger display drew more browsers, but a far higher share of the people who stopped at the smaller display actually bought something.
The reason I am thinking about all this is that my decision is too easy — there are five or six options in front of me, all of them fine, all of them roughly the same, and the tabs keep multiplying because I keep finding one more variant worth a look. More choices has made me worse at choosing, not better. I kept the search open precisely because none of the options was clearly wrong, which I had somehow decided meant none was clearly right either. This pattern has a name, and the name has helped me see my own behavior more clearly.
I’m not a psychologist, and the studies I’m leaning on here are findings from particular groups of people under particular conditions, not settled rules about how everyone’s mind works. This is reading and reflection, not advice.
What the research actually says
The careful read is more honest about the limits of that story. A 2010 review by Benjamin Scheibehenne, Rainer Greifeneder and Peter Todd pooled 63 conditions from 50 experiments. They reported that “we found a mean effect size of virtually zero but considerable variance between studies.” On average, the effect washed out, but it showed up strongly in some settings and not at all in others.
So the effect can be real, but it is not automatic. It depends heavily on the situation. The best summary is probably the one Schwartz himself offered: “the fact that some choice is good doesn’t necessarily mean that more choice is better.” Some choice clearly beats none. More is not automatically better.
The maximizer trap
Schwartz built on a distinction the economist Herbert Simon drew decades earlier, between people who try to find the best possible option and people who stop once they find something good enough. Simon called this second approach “satisficing.”
Learning to accept good enough can be better than endlessly searching for the best. The maximizer struggles to do that. The maximizer keeps the search open in case the perfect, no-downside option is one more tab away.
I recognize myself in this more than I would like. I am better at spotting possibilities than at ruling them out, and I have learned, slowly, to call that what it is: confusing motion with commitment.
Keeping options open feels like progress when it is mostly delay dressed up as care. The reframe that finally landed for me is that the skill is not finding the choice with no downside, because that choice rarely exists. The skill is choosing the downside you are willing to carry.
Every real option has a cost. The decision is which cost you can live with, not how to avoid having one.
Why regret arrives after, not before
The part I find useful, and a little uncomfortable, is what happens after the decision. The more options you reject, the more material you have left over for imagining what you missed.
Schwartz argues that simply having lots of alternatives makes it easier to picture options that do not actually exist: imagined mixes that combine the best bits of all the real ones. That can leave you less happy with the one you chose. The regret is not always about the choice itself. It is about the twenty other choices you could just as easily have made.
What I do about it now, without pretending it’s solved
The fix is I think is subtraction, and subtraction is the part I resist.
I know what works. I close the browser tabs for projects I am not going to commit to, which feels weirdly like a small loss every time. I try to set a good-enough threshold before I start looking, so the search has a stopping point rather than running until I get tired. And once a plan is decided, I refuse to reopen it, because reopening a settled question is just keeping options open by another name.
None of this is solved. The cutting is the hard part, harder than the choosing, and I notice I will do almost anything to avoid it, including generating more options to compare.
I still have that decision open in the next tab. I am going to close four of the five options without looking at them again, and live with whichever downside the last one carries. That ends the search, which is the thing I actually need to do.
If indecision is sitting heavier on you than it is on me, heavy enough to stall things that matter, that is worth talking through with a qualified counsellor or therapist rather than reading another essay about it.





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