Why we also seem to crave variety at the point of decision than we will actually

We buy variety for our fantasy selves and leave All-Bran for our actual selves. At the choosing moment, every option contains a possible future. Apple Jacks means delight. Special K means discipline. All-Bran means becoming the sort of person who says “gut health” without laughing. The pack offers identities as much as breakfast.

Then the first rushed breakfast arrives. We eat the favourite again.

Software bundles thrive on the same gap. Twenty features look like optional power before purchase and neglected furniture afterwards. Streaming lists grow through the pleasure of collecting possible evenings; viewing collapses into detectives, football and something familiar enough to survive tiredness.

Variety has real uses. It helps discovery and serves households containing several incompatible humans. Trouble begins when excitement during selection is mistaken for demand during consumption. Those are different jobs performed in different moods. Measure the sad tail. Which cereals remain? Which features help close the sale and never receive another click? Which choices create value, and which merely make the offer look generous? Let people replenish favourites, sample novelty cheaply and escape the gigantic assortment they optimistically bought for a more adventurous version of themselves. Abundance photographs beautifully. Habit writes the shopping list. The cupboard keeps the receipts.