The Paradox of Choice: Why More Options Steal Your Freedom
Ever spent more than 10 minutes browsing on a streaming platform deciding what to watch? What did you feel? I feel really stupid when that happens to me.
We are not alone! According to a survey from UserTesting, viewers spend an average of 110 hours per year—nearly five full days—scrolling through streaming menus to find something to watch.
The Sneaky Thief
You have a perfect example of the paradox of choice, a sneaky thief that turns abundance into paralysis and sometimes anxiety. Coined by psychologist Barry Schwartz, it flips the script on what we think makes us happy: more options should mean better decisions, right? Not quite.
Instead, they often lead to paralysis, regret, and a nagging sense of “what if I chose wrong?”
Here’s the breakdown:
In a world of endless swipes on dating apps, infinite job listings on LinkedIn, or customizable everything (from coffee to careers), our brains overload.
We analyze every pro and con, fearing we’ll miss the “perfect” one. The result? We delay decisions, or worse, second-guess them forever.
Why fewer options make choices more satisfying? Fewer alternatives mean less opportunity cost = the mental tax of what you didn’t choose.
The Ultimate Paradox
Tie this to life: Chasing “having it all” is the ultimate paradox.
More career paths? You plateau in one while FOMO-ing the possible switch. Endless social invites? You say yes to all, ending up drained with probably few real connections.
It’s like over-leveraging your portfolio: borrowing from your time and energy until you’re bankrupt in peace. As a result, you have no energy to make conscious decisions.
The Portfolio Manager You’ve Never Heard Of
In finance, there’s a concept called the cost of carry: the ongoing cost of holding a position open. A financial option isn’t free just because you haven’t exercised it. It has a premium you paid to acquire it, plus you must consider capital that’s locked and not working elsewhere: an opportunity cost (everything that capital could have done /boutght instead).
Most people apply zero of this thinking to their own lives. We hoard options like they’re free…. But… I confess I also fall for it… They are not.
“Keeping a door open has a price. We just never see the invoice.”
The Three Signs You’re Option Hoarding
You describe it as “keeping your options open” but can’t name what option you’d actually exercise, or when.
The thought of officially closing it produces a feeling disproportionate to what the thing actually meant to you.
You’ve mentioned it to people as something you’re “still considering” for more than six months.
If two of those three are true: it’s not an option. It’s a sunk cost in disguise.
The Audit You Didn’t Know You Needed
Here’s a simple exercise. Write down every open “position” in your life: professional, relational, geographic, creative. Then ask three questions for each:
What would I actually do if this option matured tomorrow?
What is the real cost of keeping it alive? (Time, attention, emotional overhead, conversations I’m not having.)
Am I holding this because it has value, or because closing it feels like loss?
If the honest answer to the third question is “because it feels like loss”, then you’re not managing an option. You’re carrying dead weight and calling it strategy.
“The most powerful portfolio decision isn’t which position to open. It’s which one to finally close when you already lost a lot.”
One Question to Take With You
You don’t need to liquidate your whole life this week. But there’s probably one position you’ve been carrying for too long, that you already know the answer to, and that’s costing you more than it’s worth in clarity, energy, and forward motion.
What is it?
Until next week, — UnHaveItAll The raw audit you didn’t know you needed.
P.S. — Got an open position in your life you can’t close? Hit reply and tell me about it. I read everything.