Minimalism and Choice

The tyranny of choice is a common theme running through much academic and popular literature today. The most well known explorer of this theme is psychologist Barry Schwartz and The Paradox of Choice. Basically, Schwartz argues that having more options doesn't necessarily lead to greater well being but to paralysis and regret. By having more choices, we find it harder to choose, and we live with regret over the choice we make no matter what the choice is.

Much of what I write here is fairly popular, but nothing generates as much enthusiasm as when I write about minimalism. Among minimalist bloggers, what I write about minimalism seems richer and better because I deal with these heavier themes and issues. The other bloggers deal with the answering the how questions, but I cut to the why question. Why be minimalist?

Minimalism is the antidote to the tyranny of choice. I have read others deal with this issue. Economist Tyler Cowen writes about neurodiversity and how being more autistic helps us sort through a world of overwhelming information. Alan de Botton deals with a lot of the anxieties that an affluent American culture produces. I see myself as a bridge between these heavier thinkers and the more practical advice of bloggers like Leo Babauta. I make the connection.

Minimalism is popular because it cures paralysis and regret. By limiting your choices, you have more freedom to live your life. Now, I don't want to erase the amount of choices our wonderful society gives us like Chairman Mao making an entire population wear coolie pajamas. The problem isn't choice but how we think about the choices we make.



If we lived forever, our choices wouldn't matter so much. This is because we could always change our mind and try new directions. I think of an immortal being like Connor MacLeod out of Highlander. An immortal cannot have regret because a virtually infinite life can never be wasted. Without regret being a consideration, there is no paralysis when it comes to choosing. There are no wrong choices. You are free to dabble and explore in a variety of directions. You don't have to choose between being a doctor or a lawyer because you have plenty of time to be both. But we only get one shot, so we become anxious that we make that shot count.

The problem with choice isn't that we have many options but few resources. We believe that we must choose well with the scarcity of these resources. Should I go to law school or business school? Should I have kids now or wait until my career is established? Should I go with the iPhone or the Android?

Hoarding is one of the strategies people use. For instance, we have the TiVo that allows us to save TV programs to watch later except later never comes. So, they have removable storage for the DVR, so you can build a library of unwatched programs. Books and movies go the same way. Then, you have products, cluttered closets, rented storage space, and the like. At some point, this stuff has to be cleared away. Yet, what makes it so hard to delete the clutter both digital and physical? It is the choice. Hoarding is simply choice deferred. If you ever watch Hoarders, you can see the drama of these choices. We watch because they mirror our own lives and the choices we must make.

At this point, you are feeling anxious as you read this. You think about your own choices, your regrets, and the paralysis about what to do next. Why is this happening to me? It is because in all of these choices we face our own mortality. We face the fact that we are going to die, and we must choose how to live. What looks like a rusty old bicycle cluttering your garage is actually existential despair.

Minimalism cures this despair. It is no coincidence that minimalism has a certain Eastern feel to it. This is because of the Buddhist teaching that despair comes from desire. Happiness and fulfillment does not come from fulfilling all desires but by limiting them. This is why maximalist types end up reporting such high levels of dissatisfaction while minimalists report such high levels of satisfaction. This doesn't come from how much or how little you own so much as your relationship to that stuff. The same thing applies to our chosen professions, starting families, picking hobbies, etc.

The first choice you have to make as a minimalist is to choose to accept your own mortality. You are going to die. Not only are you going to die, but you will be forgotten. In the vast ocean of eternity, you will be nothing. The people you love will be nothing. This planet will be nothing. The universe will go on and even Connor MacLeod will join the rest of us in death. The difference between a long life and a short life is laughable. The difference between success and failure is also laughable. It is like having a first class ride on the Titanic. Our lives while we live them are simply a momentary amnesia of the undeniable reality we live in.

The second choice you have to make as a minimalist is to acknowledge that every choice you make has a drawback as well as a reward. Being fit has the reward of feeling and looking better. It also has the drawback of many lonely hours spent in the gym. Similarly, being a workaholic has the benefits of a lucrative career and advancement but the drawback of diminished time with family and friends. Every choice has a regret. There are advantages and disadvantages to every choice we make. I have met bachelors who wished they had married, and husbands who absolutely hated being married. Ultimately, there are no right or wrong choices but only what is right or wrong for us.

The third choice you have to make as a minimalist has to do with your identity. You have to know who you are. This makes a huge difference because it determines if you're going to buy the Carhartt or the Armani. For me, this came to me when it came to my music collection. I used to have very eclectic tastes in music, but I realized that 90% of the time I wasn't listening to Bach but to Bachman-Turner Overdrive. My musical tastes are country music and classic rock. I was only listening to that other stuff to be sophisticated, but I really hated it. If you are living in defiance of your identity, you will never be happy. You will be pretending to be something that you aren't.

The fourth choice you have to make as a minimalist has to do with your values. By knowing what your values are along with your identity, it allows you to say no to more things. If you value your family, you are going to say no to that promotion that requires 20 extra hours of work each week. If you value honesty and integrity, you are going to turn down that job offer from Goldman Sachs. If you value thrift, you are going to pick the Honda over the Mercedes.

Minimalism comes with a certain set of values already built in. You pick smaller over bigger. You pick quality over quantity. You pick simplicity over complexity. You pick saving over spending. You pick less instead of more.

The fifth choice you have to make as a minimalist is to decide to always be a minimalist. It is one thing to be a minimalist when you are poor. It is another thing to be a minimalist when you are rich, and if you live as a minimalist, you will become rich. Money has a way of accumulating for those living simple lives. For the most part, I've never seen a sincere downshifter go back to their old ways. People who came through the Great Depression were famous for their lifelong thrift. But there are going to be double minded people who consider minimalism a temporary phase.

I think everyone should reserve the right to change their minds. Being static can be counterproductive. But rethinking every decision you make can also be just as counterproductive. Minimalism is not a decision you need to rethink. You can change your religion, your politics, your style of dress, and you probably will. But you should never change simple living in the same way that you should never stop being honest or compassionate. Simple living and virtue are joined at the hip. Various cultures and traditions from first century Christians to Buddhists to Quakers to the Amish to environmentalists to Epicureans and Stoics to grunge rockers all advocated some sort of simple lifestyle. Conversely, excess seems to precede every fall both culturally and personally.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy, but you don't need an infinite number of choices to be happy or an infinite life to explore them all. What you need is the knowledge that there is no wrong path. The right path is the path you took whatever it may be. As long as you chose in accordance with your identity, your values, and with no regret, it will be the right path for you. If you choose in defiance of your identity and your values, your time on that path won't be long. You will hate it and find your way back to where you should be.

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