This post is part of a series about The Paradox of Choice, a book about why more is less. Leave a comment below and I may randomly pick you to win one of three autographed copies. Read more of this series.

We have all been disappointed by a movie that we had high hopes of liking. You’ve probably also given a review of a movie that went something like, “it was pretty good, but I expected it to suck.”

That’s pretty much the only way to explain why I liked The Hot Chick, a Rob Schneider vehicle that I can’t believe I saw in the theater. This is a movie whose top keywords at IMDb are Underwear, Slacker, and Gay Kiss.

Yet, I couldn’t help but say good things about it. That’s because I set the “zero point,” my frame for comparison, as the lowliest of bad comedies. Like the pessimist’s dilemma, the zero point can be altered by a small change in phrasing:

A sign at a gas station that says “Discount for Paying Cash” sets the zero point at the credit card price. A sign that says “Surcharge for Using Credit” sets the zero point at the cash price. Thought the difference between cash and credit may be the same at both gas stations, people will be annoyed at having to pay a surcharge and delighted at getting a discount

Sounds like a great excuse to plan for generosity.

Seth has a great example of the Pessimists Dilemma:

“I’m more and more convinced that the best hope for the eco movement is to tell a story of efficiency and growth and ingenuity. More is easy to sell. Less almost never is.”

Only phrase things negatively if you want someone to say no.

This post is part of a series about The Paradox of Choice, a book about why more is less. Leave a comment below and I may randomly pick you to win one of three autographed copies. Read more of this series.

Most choices have trade-offs. Rarely is one option better in every way than another. How you think about what you pick can greatly effect the outcome.

The book has an example of a custody battle. The jury has a list of qualities of two parents, relating to income, health, and relationship with the child.

Parent A	Parent B
Average income	Above-average income
Average health	Minor health problems
Average working hours	Lots of work-related travel
Reasonable rapport with child	Very close relationship with the child
Relatively stable social life	Extremely active social life

It’s pretty much a draw, but it turns out who gets chosen varies significantly based on how the question is asked.

Question 1: To which parent would you award sole custody of the child?
Answer 1: 64% choose Parent B.

Question 2: Which parent would you deny sole custody of the child?
Answer 2: only 55% choose Parent B.

Says Schwartz:

Difficult choices like this set people off on a chase for reasons to justify their decisions. In the first instance, they are looking for a reason to accept a parent. In the second instance, people are looking for reasons to reject a parent.

When we are looking for the good, it’s easy to spot. Of course, it can be easy to see the negatives, too. But then, if the pessimist is to rule out an option because of the negatives, he must also rule out its positives.

That’s what I call the pessimist’s dilemma. That’s when you realize the opportunities you’re passing up, and so starts the maximizing.

For yourself, your customers, and for simplicity’s sake, avoid the pessimist’s dilemma. I say keep things positive.

This post is part of a series about The Paradox of Choice, a book about why more is less. Leave a comment below and I may randomly pick you to win one of three autographed copies. Read more of this series.

So, we’re in a society with almost infinite choice. Why is that so bad? Unfortunately, many of us have a tendency to need to investigate all possibilities. That can be especially tough with so many options. Those who succumb are attempting to maximize.

Maximizers need to be assured that every purchase or decision was the best that could be made. Yet how can anyone truly know that any given option is absolutely the best possible? The only way to know is to check out all the alternatives.

The alternative to maximizing is to be a satisficer. A satisficer has criteria and standards. She searches until she finds an item that meets those standards, and at that point, she stops.

If this sounds like the incrementalist and the completionist, it’s very similar. The completionist wants it to be just right–he wants to investigate all the possibilities. The incrementalist is looking for is “good enough for now”–she is satisficing.

In the book, Barry Schwartz argues that maximizing too much makes us unhappy. I’ll show a few more examples of that later in this series.

Before you get down on yourself and feel even worse, it’s important to note that you are not one or the other. There are things about which you maximize and others where you satisfice. The trick is to acknowledge your weak points and find ways to be happier without investigating all the options.

What do you maximize? Have you found any solutions?

Here’s a no doubter: Digital cameras have revolutionized photography. It’s so much simpler than the old way, a time of limited quantity, no do-overs, and waiting for development–a time my nephews will never know.

This summer, when I upgraded cameras, I purchased a card that further simplifies my digital photography. Slipped into my memory slot, this little fella looks and acts exactly like an ordinary SD card. When I’m done with photos, I just take it out, fold it in half, and stick it in my USB port. No cables, no card readers. USB is built into the card.

It has greatly simplified taking pictures. It’s a joy. But I’m not going to use it anymore.

The Eye-Fi takes yet another step out of the process. It also looks exactly like a standard SD card. But it lives inside the camera, not intended to be removed.

Whenever the Eye-Fi is within Wi-Fi range, it uploads photos to one of several online services. Then my computer downloads them with a local utility when it has its own connection.

Forget about “no cables,” this means I won’t even have to think about it. My latest photos will always be available, and I won’t have to do a thing. If the trend in simplification continues, in the future my nephews will tell stories of when photography required pushing a button.