The Optionality Complex and the Unexamined Life [FF Vol. 18]
Here lies the final iteration of Ferg’s Focus in 2023. This year, I outpaced any previous personal writing streak by posting 20 pieces ranging from travel stories, meditations on the challenges of solo travel, and Ferg’s Focus editions. While I’m self-impressed to have put out that volume in a year, my crowning achievement came at the buzzer this month: seeing my work published professionally online (more on that below).
Thank you to everyone who reads this newsletter and my supplemental stories without fail. My favorite parts of each month are when I get to sit down and write. The hope is for this newsletter to inspire a handful of others to use travel as a means of self-development too.
Food for thought as you’re setting 2024 resolutions…
The Paradox of Choice
Imagine you’re scrolling through Netflix after a long day. 10 minutes have passed. Nothing has quite caught your fancy: not the Netflix top-picks, not the critically acclaimed films, not the Office re-runs (most of which you’ve already watched 3 times over), and not even the unreasonably high amount of Adam Sandler movies (most of which you’ve also probably already seen). You keep scrolling, and, before you know it, 30 minutes are out the window. It’s bedtime.
This is the Paradox of Choice. First popularized in 2004 by psychologist Barry Schwartz, the Paradox of Choice is a term for the inevitable decision paralysis and subsequent dissatisfaction that too much optionality can bring. Schwartz focused his research largely on Western societies; he recognized early on that the stronger the economic standing of a person, state, or nation, the more optionality they tended to inherit. To Schwartz, the overabundance of choice in someone’s life resulted in greater unhappiness, indecision, or both.
Strong economies, like those of Europe and North America, grant us the privilege of more choice than the majority of the world. We have discretionary spending. Our fashion is not limited to what came up the river last month or what the nearest shopkeeper has to cover us for the workday. There is no seasonality of diet; we have the option to eat seafood, steak, tropical fruits, and “fresh” bread on a different day each week without straying too far from home. Even existentially, the opportunities available to make a living can cause decision overload as we all silently consider, Is this what I’m meant to be doing with my life?
A glut of choice is evident in modern innovation as a byproduct. Similar to Netflix, look at the proliferation of dating apps like Tinder and Hinge—rather than rely on inner circles for mate choice, one can merely sort through infinite options, constantly convincing themselves that there is a better choice just another thumb swipe away. The grass is once again greener on the other side at the expense of taking action or trying something new.
I experienced the same paralysis when vagabonding. Without a route or itinerary, the world becomes overwhelming in its potential destinations. I would habitually look at my positioning on the map and delay in making my next move. With 360 degrees of options, electing one route and sticking with felt like forfeiting the other 359.
This paralysis only subsided as I was gradually exposed to more rural, developing areas of the globe. In these zones, I noticed the consistency in satisfaction and purpose among the locals, even though they technically had fewer opportunities than me. They didn’t have the option of traveling, taking PTO with their family, or buying the latest iPhone, but they did have a unique ability to contextualize their positions.
These folks had created filters for the limited decisions that remained. Their consciousness of what they valued in life (normally family, religion, and experiences) efficiently wiped away any ancillary options. People like this are, in a sense, off of autopilot.
It would be false and tone-deaf to claim that a lack of options is where true satisfaction lies. Having too many choices can be paralyzing, yes, but having no choices is all the more unbearable. Each extreme yields either unclear decision-making or unhappiness.
No one should wish for less freedom of choice. Instead, reducing options in Western societies becomes a cognitive practice in strong, present decision-making. By committing full rationalization and reflective thought to a decision at hand, we can parse through our options with further clarity. There will also be less energy spent on the backend questioning if it was a good decision in the first place.
If it is so important to make strong decisions in the present moment, how do we do that?
Decision-Making Lenses
Schwartz suggests, glumly, that “Learning to choose is hard. Learning to choose well is harder. And learning to choose well in a world of unlimited possibilities is harder still, perhaps too hard.”
While this may be the case to an extent, some selective lenses can whittle away the options that seem aplenty, but realistically shouldn’t be in consideration.
I talk a lot about the idea of turning off our mental “autopilot” in Ferg’s Focus. This can manifest itself in many ways, but the core lies in remaining intentional in action per our why.
That why can be any form of purpose. For some, it’s family and providing for them. For others, it’s service to others in need. Many use religion as their lens for decision-making (i.e. if a choice doesn't adhere to their beliefs, it’s off the table).
This “purpose” can be as complex as an existential meaning in life or as simple as enablement to participate in experiences that bring joy. To discover this why takes some genuine self-reflection as it should not be subject to the expectations of others.
Social media is the greatest enemy in this war. With constant stimulation from the passive posts of others, it’s no wonder our judgment is clouded when deciding what is best for us. It’s easier to seek the affirmations of others online than the internal affirmations from within.
My favorite weapon against the pressures of social media is a question I heard from Tim Ferriss. When questioning if a choice we’re about to make is for the appeasement of the masses or our own progress, we can ask:
“If I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else about this, would I still do it?”
With proper reflection, the answer should be black and white.
In a vacuum, human intuition should be enough to make the right call. The modern world is not a vacuum though. It is a finely tuned machine now trained to efficiently influence our thoughts and desires.
Regardless of how well we manage to filter our options, we will still face the choice between action and inaction. Action may seem daunting, especially if the path we’re on the cusp of taking is risky. This fear of failure is a discomfort we must train ourselves to embrace.
Barring the unthinkable, it will always be more satisfying to live knowing we made a wrong decision, than not making one at all.
Unexamined or Unlived?
Edgar Award-winning suspense novelist Andrew Klavan on the virtue of striking balance between cautious introspection and spontaneous action (adapted originally from a Socrates maxim):
Ferg’s Focus 2023 Replay Winner
Published at Last
When I write, I do so because I want to. I write words that I know I’ll enjoy reading years from now and hope that those words resonate with a few others who stumble across them. However, I always imagined how cool it would be if the stories I wrote were published somewhere else one day. The content was there; my writing prose needed a couple of evolutions on the other hand. So, I set a goal in 2023 to consciously evolve and practice it until I was published.
In the final weeks of the year, I achieved that goal. Thank you to GoWorldTravel for making it happen. This one may be familiar to most avid Ferg’s Focus readers. Nonetheless, below is my story on Fordlândia, Brazil, now published somewhere other than my personal site.
As I said in the intro, this is the final edition of Ferg’s Focus for 2023. My goal going into 2024 is to evolve and grow this series to reach an even larger audience. There will be some necessary restructuring as I do so. In the meantime, I’ll send out the occasional story or essay (hopefully published again elsewhere).
You can contribute to the effort of growing this newsletter by copying the subscription link on the button below or forwarding this email on to those who love to travel and want to do so more in the new year.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year,