Image credit: The Tribuna of the Uffizi, Johan Joseph Zoffany, 1772-77, Royal Collection Trust. Used with permission. (Bonus: See how many works of art you can identify!)
First, a quick check-in re: the Win List. Mine, with almost 300 items, is going pretty strong!
Please note, this includes “little” things, and as you know there’s no such thing as little on a Win List. Example: I managed to see Dune II before it left theaters. Do I deserve a medal? No, I just deserve to notice. You do too! Because that’s how we keep going in a good direction.
So tell us how you’re doing.
Now, then. Let’s talk about scarcity and abundance.
Today we live in abundance—of a certain kind. Even people of modest means mostly have access to things that kings and queens not so long ago lacked: flu shots, cheap textiles, world news, coffee.
But species-wise, we came up in a time of lack. It made sense for us to concentrate our energy on getting enough food, water, warmth, and mates. Because survival: we’ve always liked it.
And it’s much more likely we will survive with a drive to seek anything that keeps us alive—even when we’ve got a little set aside. If enough is good, then more is surely better.
But this old more-is-better brain lives in a new world. And it’s a mismatch.
Nor is that all. Humans are now smart enough to tinker with our scarcity brain for profit. Think about slot machines. Or the snacks you can’t seem to put down. Or perhaps that One Weird Tip.
Ultra-processed foods, clickbait, eerily well-timed discount notices: these things are all designed to capture our attention—and wallets—by setting off what journalist Michael Easter, in his book Scarcity Brain, refers to as the scarcity loop.
Easter’s book is an engaging read and I recommend it. Here’s just one takeaway for you. The first step in the scarcity loop is always a perceived opportunity to score something. If there’s no anticipated win, there’s no interest, and the loop never kicks off.
Along with the anticipation comes a feeling of urgency. We all know this feeling. It flares up when we read that “doctors don’t want us to know” the real answer. Now we must learn the secret!
Urgency spikes when we get an email from our favorite retailer who’s got just what we need—for a limited time only. Now we have to click the Buy button, before it’s all gone.
It’s a trap!
Here is the thing: We do need stuff, including stuff that goes on sale. And while we don’t need ultraspicy chips, for example, we might want some from time to time.
So it’s good to recognize the scarcity loop when it’s around our ankles, and be able to step out of the trap if that would be smart. Here are some ways people do this:
- When you feel that urgency flare up, move away from the trigger. For example, you can have a rule that you always set a timer before hitting any Buy Now buttons. Catch your breath while doing something else.
- When the urgency is built into the very experience of “satisfying” the urge, as it is with the snacks we can’t stop eating, give yourself a limit. Put the chips in a bowl and put the bag away. (Unless you know you never walk away, like me with those pillowy pink shrimp snacks. I will always eat the whole bag and still want more … so I mostly don’t get started.)
- Ask if this urgency is coming from the current moment, or perhaps the Pleistocene? The truth is there’s more information out there than you’ll ever make use of, they’re producing a surplus of cute shoes every minute, and even potential mates are not as scarce as they tell you. I mean, talk about abundance: there’s 8 billion humans here.
- Finally, there’s our old friend the Gratitude List. Turning our attention to what we do have, whether plenty or “just” enough, helps keep us out of Scarcity Brain and the urgent need to act while supplies last.
I’ve made it sound easy to pop out of the scarcity loop. It isn’t. But I hope these not-very-weird tips will be there when you need them.
If you have more ideas about how to stay out of the scarcity mindset when it’s out of step with reality, please add your thoughts to the comments below.
