tyranny of the best
I think we've made being satisfied strangely difficult.
I noticed it while looking for something completely ordinary. I don't even remember what it was anymore, which probably proves how little the decision actually mattered.
But I remember searching for it.
Not a good one.
The best one.
The best hair dryer. The best notebook. The best restaurant nearby. The best moisturizer. The best headphones under $200. The best way to make scrambled eggs.
There is apparently a best version of everything now, and somewhere on the internet is a person prepared to tell you exactly what it is.
This should make choosing easier.
Somehow, it doesn't.
Because once you know that the best exists, the perfectly good thing sitting in front of you starts looking suspicious.
A restaurant can have great food, be ten minutes away, and have an empty table right now. But there is another one across town with 4.8 stars and 3,000 reviews.
So now we're driving forty minutes.
We have more information than people making everyday decisions have probably ever had. Before buying something, I can read reviews, watch comparisons, search Reddit, find rankings, check TikTok, open twelve tabs and locate a person who has devoted an alarming portion of their life to comparing vacuum cleaners.
That's useful.
I would very much like to know if the vacuum cleaner is terrible before I give someone $400 for it.
But somewhere between avoiding bad decisions and making the absolute best decision, shopping became research.
And it isn't just shopping.
We look for the best restaurant when we travel. The best seat on the plane. The best time to visit. The best workout. The best morning routine. The best method for learning something.
Even leisure can require homework now.
I think what makes “the best” so exhausting is that it turns every choice into an opportunity cost.
If I choose this one, am I missing something better?
If I eat here, should I have eaten there?
If I buy this, will I discover tomorrow that everyone agrees I should have bought the other one?
A good choice can become disappointing simply because we learned a better choice existed.
Which is a little absurd.
For most of human history, plenty of decisions were made because something was nearby, available, affordable, recommended by someone you trusted, or simply good enough.
You didn't need to know whether your neighborhood bakery was the seventh-best bakery in the city.
You liked the bread.
You went back.
There is something almost luxurious about that now.
Not ignorance exactly.
Just not requiring every small decision to survive a tournament first.
I don't want worse things. I like recommendations. I like reviews. I will absolutely continue looking up whether a restaurant is good before making a reservation.
But maybe “best” is a category worth saving for the things that actually deserve the investigation.
Because most days, I don't need the best iced matcha latte in the city.
I need a good iced matcha latte somewhere I already am.
And maybe something doesn't become worse just because somewhere, something better exists.