Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions

by Dan Ariely

humans rarely choose things in absolute terms. We don’t have an internal value meter that tells us how much things are worth. Rather, we focus on the relative advantage of one thing over another, and estimate value accordingly.

most people don’t know what they want unless they see it in context.

we not only tend to compare things with one another but also tend to focus on comparing things that are easily comparable—and avoid comparing things that cannot be compared easily.

That’s a lesson we can all learn: the more we have, the more we want. And the only cure is to break the cycle of relativity.

With everything you do, in fact, you should train yourself to question your repeated behaviors.

Socrates said that the unexamined life is not worth living. Perhaps it’s time to inventory the imprints and anchors in our own life. Even if they once were completely reasonable, are they still reasonable? Once the old choices are reconsidered, we can open ourselves to new decisions—and the new opportunities of a new day. That seems to make sense.

Traditional economics assumes that prices of products in the market are determined by a balance between two forces: production at each price (supply) and the desires of those with purchasing power at each price (demand). The price at which these two forces meet determines the prices in the marketplace. This is an elegant idea, but it depends centrally on the assumption that the two forces are independent and that together they produce the market price. The results of all the experiments presented in this chapter (and the basic idea of arbitrary coherence itself) challenge these assumptions. First, according to the standard economic framework, consumers’ willingness to pay is one of the two inputs that determine market prices (this is the demand). But as our experiments demonstrate, what consumers are willing to pay can easily be manipulated, and this means that consumers don’t in fact have a good handle on their own preferences and the prices they are willing to pay for different goods and experiences. Second, whereas the standard economic framework assumes that the forces of supply and demand are independent, the type of anchoring manipulations we have shown here suggest that they are, in fact, dependent. In the real world, anchoring comes from manufacturer’s suggested retail prices (MSRPs), advertised prices, promotions, product introductions, etc.—all of which are supply-side variables. It seems then that instead of consumers’ willingness to pay influencing market price...

Similarly, we can use FREE! to drive social policy. Want people to drive electric cars? Don’t just lower the registration and inspection fees—eliminate them, so that you have created FREE! In the same way, if health is your concern, focus on early detection as a way to eliminate the progression of severe illnesses. Want people to do the right thing—in terms of getting regular colonoscopies, mammograms, cholesterol checks, diabetes checks, and such? Don’t just decrease the cost (by decreasing the co-pay). Make these critical procedures FREE!

Because once market norms enter our considerations, the social norms depart.

The conclusion: no one is offended by a small gift, because even small gifts keep us in the social exchange world and away from market norms.

when a social norm collides with a market norm, the social norm goes away for a long time. In other words, social relationships are not easy to reestablish. Once the bloom is off the rose—once a social norm is trumped by a market norm—it will rarely return.

when price is not a part of the exchange, we become less selfish maximizers and start caring more about the welfare of others.

Ask most twentysomething male college students whether they would ever attempt unprotected sex and they will quickly recite chapter and verse about the risk of dreaded diseases and pregnancy. Ask them in any dispassionate circumstances—while they are doing homework or listening to a lecture—whether they’d enjoy being spanked, or enjoy sex in a threesome with another man, and they’ll wince. No way, they’d tell you. Furthermore, they’d narrow their eyes at you and think, What kind of sicko are you anyhow, asking these questions in the first place?

The results showed that when Roy and the other participants were in a cold, rational, superego-driven state, they respected women; they were not particularly attracted to the odd sexual activities we asked them about; they always took the moral high ground; and they expected that they would always use a condom. They thought that they understood themselves, their preferences, and what actions they were capable of. But as it turned out, they completely underestimated their reactions.

In Freudian terms, each of us houses a dark self, an id, a brute that can unpredictably wrest control away from the superego.

Moreover, the study suggested that our inability to understand ourselves in a different emotional state does not seem to improve with experience; we get it wrong even if we spend as much time in this state as our Berkeley students spend sexually aroused. Sexual arousal is familiar, personal, very human, and utterly commonplace. Even so, we all systematically underpredict the degree to which arousal completely negates our superego, and the way emotions can take control of our behavior.

Isn’t it strange that we invest so little in learning about both sides of ourselves? Why should we reserve this subject for psychology classes when failure to understand it can bring about repeated failures in so many aspects of our lives? We need to explore the two sides of ourselves; we need to understand the cold state and the hot state; we need to see how the gap between the hot and cold states benefits our lives, and where it leads us astray.

Giving up on our long-term goals for immediate gratification, my friends, is procrastination.

ONE OF MY colleagues at Duke University, Ralph Keeney, recently noted that America’s top killer isn’t cancer or heart disease, nor is it smoking or obesity. It’s our inability to make smart choices and overcome our own self-destructive behaviors.9 Ralph estimates that about half of us will make a lifestyle decision that will ultimately lead us to an early grave. And as if this were not bad enough, it seems that the rate at which we make these deadly decisions is increasing at an alarming pace.

When stripping away our preconceptions and our previous knowledge is not possible, perhaps we can at least acknowledge that we are all biased. If we acknowledge that we are trapped within our perspective, which partially blinds us to the truth, we may be able to accept the idea that conflicts generally require a neutral third party—who has not been tainted with our expectations—to set down the rules and regulations. Of course, accepting the word of a third party is not easy and not always possible; but when it is possible, it can yield substantial benefits. And for that reason alone, we must continue to try.

THE BRILLIANT SATIRIST Alexander Pope once wrote: “Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.” To me, it seems that Pope’s advice is the best way to live an objective life.

A good analogy for social distrust can be found in the “tragedy of the commons.” This phrase can be traced back to Oxford professor William Forster Lloyd, who described the phenomenon in his 1833 book on population. He noted that in medieval England, parishes had common land on which each member of the community could graze a limited number of cattle and sheep.* Keeping the number of animals low allowed the grass to grow back at a speed that kept its level more or less the same. This approach was rather successful when all the farmers stuck to the rule. Unfortunately, in their selfish desire to improve their own financial situations, some of the farmers increased the number of their animals to a level that the land could not sustain. This strategy was very good (at least in the short run) for the individual farmers who had more animals, but each additional cow or sheep resulted in less grass for all of the animals. As the grass dwindled, all the livestock on the commons became malnourished and underproductive—a result that hurt everyone, including the greedy farmers.

Today, psychologists, economists and environmentalists use the phrase “the tragedy of the commons” to describe the same basic principle: when we use a common resource at a rate that is slower than the rate at which it replenishes, all is well. However, if a few individuals get greedy and use more than their share, the system of consumption becomes unsustainable, and in the long term, everybody loses. In essence, the tragedy of the commons is about two competing human interests. On one hand, an individual should care about the sustainability of shared resources in the long term because everyone, including the individual, benefits from it. At the same time, in the short term, the individual benefits immediately from taking more than his or her fair share. (Social scientists refer to such betrayers of social contracts as “defectors.”)

This view of human nature is worrisome. We can hope to surround ourselves with good, moral people, but we have to be realistic. Even good people are not immune to being partially blinded by their own minds. This blindness allows them to take actions that bypass their own moral standards on the road to financial rewards. In essence, motivation can play tricks on us whether or not we are good, moral people. As the author and journalist Upton Sinclair once noted, “It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.” We can now add the following thought: it is even more difficult to get a man to understand something when he is dealing with nonmonetary currencies.

Time and again I have provided examples that are contrary to Shakespeare’s depiction of us in “What a piece of work is a man.” In fact, these examples show that we are not noble in reason, not infinite in faculty, and rather weak in apprehension. (Frankly, I think Shakespeare knew that very well, and this speech of Hamlet’s is not without irony.)

Here’s how “save more tomorrow” works. When new employees join a company, in addition to the regular decisions they are asked to make about what percentage of their paycheck to invest in their company’s retirement plan, they are also asked what percentage of their future salary raises they would be willing to invest in the retirement plan. It is difficult to sacrifice consumption today for saving in the distant future, but it is psychologically easier to sacrifice consumption in the future, and even easier to give up a percentage of a salary increase that one does not yet have.

IF I WERE to distill one main lesson from the research described in this book, it is that we are pawns in a game whose forces we largely fail to comprehend. We usually think of ourselves as sitting in the driver’s seat, with ultimate control over the decisions we make and the direction our life takes; but, alas, this perception has more to do with our desires—with how we want to view ourselves—than with reality.

A second main lesson is that although irrationality is commonplace, it does not necessarily mean that we are helpless. Once we understand when and where we may make erroneous decisions, we can try to be more vigilant, force ourselves to think differently about these decisions, or use technology to overcome our inherent shortcomings. This is also where businesses and policy makers could revise their thinking and consider how to design their policies and products so as to provide free lunches.