In his book, The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz opens with his recent experience buying a pair of jeans. He entered the store, was approached by a floor worker, and told her what he wanted. Which brand? she asked. He told her and she said, regular fit or relaxed fit? Once that decision was made, she said, straight cut, flare cut, or boot cut? This continued to the point of frustration.

Last Christmas season I went into my study and found my wife at my computer with two pages of earring trees pulled up side by side. She was going back and forth from one to the other, looking at tiny differences among the trees on display, trying to find the perfect one.

Several years ago, my daughter and I were Christmas shopping for my wife. We went into a mall (not a pleasant experience for me under any circumstances) and went into a store. I walked over to a table, picked up a sweater and asked her if she thought Suzanne would like it. When she said yes, I said, OK, we're done. Lets go home. Horrified, she said, oh no, there are lots of other stores we have to look through.

My life and I'm sure the lives of others are filled with more examples of the same. Picking out the best sweater would have been, in my mind, an impossible task. There were two large malls and numerous stores in the area, all of which sold sweaters. The one I found might not have been the best, but it was certainly good enough.

The search for the best pervades our culture and, in my opinion, is a source of much frustration, disappointment, and anger. Drawing an important distinction, James Carse says in Finite and Infinite Games:

Only a few can be powerful. Everyone can be strong.