The acclaimed Iowa-born travel writer, Bill Bryson, known for his witty observations and upbeat take on life, offers a unique perspective on the modern world’s obsession with proliferate choice.

In his 1998 book I’m a Stranger Here Myself, Bryson humorously chronicles his return to the United States after two decades in England. Among other things, he is confronted by the overwhelming variety of consumer goods in American supermarkets in contrast to the somewhat more limited choices available at that time in the UK.

Bryson’s experience in the US retail world perfectly captures the complications and confusion thrown up by too many choices. For, as Bryson discovered, more options doesn’t lead to better decisions and good outcomes. Instead, it leads to frustration and bad choices.

In one particularly hilarious piece, Bryson writes vividly about his attempt to buy breakfast cereal on a visit to his local supermarket: “The breakfast cereals alone could have occupied me for most of the afternoon. There must have been 200 types, and I am not exaggerating. Every possible substance that could be dried, puffed, and sugar-coated was there.”

As he continued exploring the aisles, Bryson’s amazement at the level of choice grew: “I had no idea how the market for junk food had proliferated. Everywhere I turned I was confronted with foods guaranteed to make you waddle.” He lists a barrage of options: “jelly creme pies, moon pies, pecan spinwheels, peach mellos, root beer buttons, chocolate fudge devil dogs”—illustrating an excess of choice that left him more bewildered than satisfied.

Perhaps the most striking example was at Aisle Seven, or as Bryson dubbed it: “Food for the Seriously Obese.” There was “a whole section devoted exclusively to a product called Toaster Pastries, which included, among much else, eight different types of toaster strudel. And what exactly is toaster strudel? Who cares? It was coated in sugar and looked drippy. I grabbed an armload.”

Bryson later reflected on how many of the items he had somehow ended up buying were never even eaten; they lingered in his pantry for ages until they were finally discarded — proof, in his mind, of the folly of excessive choice.

Bryson’s humorous take on the overwhelming abundance of choice highlights a phenomenon unique to modern Western living. Unsurprisingly, sober studies on excessive consumer choices have begun to emerge in recent years, and the picture they paint is not pretty.

Professor emeritus of psychology at Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania, Barry Schwartz, coined the term “the paradox of choice” in his influential 2004 book The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less. He argues that while having some choice is essential to human autonomy and well-being, an overload of options inevitably leads to decision paralysis and often also to anxiety and deep dissatisfaction.

Over the years, Schwartz has conducted experiments showing that when people are presented with too many options, they are more likely to feel overwhelmed and make poorer decisions — or worse, they avoid making decisions altogether, dovetailing with Bryson’s anecdotal experience in the supermarket, where the endless options he faced didn’t enhance his shopping experience, instead leaving him frustrated and, ultimately, unfulfilled.

Schwartz’s research and Bryson’s experiences highlight a critical aspect of human psychology: when faced with too many choices, we tend to second-guess our decisions, or we are hasty and impulsive, usually with poor results, resulting in us feeling less satisfaction. The bottom line is that the very freedom that abundant choice promises often backfires, leading to increased stress and painful regret.

In stark contrast to the modern dilemma of seemingly overwhelming choice, Parshat Re’eh presents a refreshingly simple definition of choices. The parsha begins with a clear, binary proposition: “See, I set before you today a blessing and a curse: the blessing if you obey the commandments of God that I am giving you today; the curse, if you disobey the commandments of God and turn from the way that I command you today by following other gods” (Deut. 11:26-28).

Rashi, commenting on this verse, highlights the significance of the word ‘See’ (רְאֵה). He explains that the Torah urges each individual to open their eyes and truly perceive their choices. This isn’t just about physical sight but about clarity of understanding—being able to discern the real nature of the choices presented. The Torah wants us to see beyond the superficial appeal of specific options and recognize their actual value, or, more accurately, lack thereof.

In this passage, the Torah doesn’t clutter the decision-making process with a multitude of options, nor does it leave room for ambiguity. Instead, it draws a clear line between two paths — one that leads to positive outcomes and the other to adverse outcomes.

Clearly, the Torah’s intention here is not to simplify life’s complexities but rather to provide a framework that guides us in the whole area of making choices – teaching us that what may seem like options may not actually be anything other than a range of bad options, all tantalizingly attractive, but ultimately no good.

Schwartz’s concept of the “paradox of choice” highlights how excessive options paralyze us; the Torah’s approach in Re’eh reminds us that the best way to navigate life’s decisions is to simplify them. The Torah empowers us to choose wisely by reminding us not to be dazzled by choices that appear attractive but which, in reality, prevent us from making the decisions that are good for us.

In Parshat Re’eh, we are guided by Moses to maintain crystal clarity in all our decision-making — essentially a call to rise above the confusion of too many choices and to focus on making the decisions that truly matter without getting distracted.

There is a famous story of the Greek conqueror Alexander the Great. As he advanced eastward towards Asia to expand his empire, he arrived in Gordium, the capital of Phrygia. There, he encountered the Gordian Knot, an intricate and tightly tangled knot tied to the yoke of an ox-cart.

The Roman historian Quintus Curtius Rufus described it as having “several knots all so tightly entangled that it was impossible to see how they were fastened.” According to an ancient local legend, whoever could untie this knot would be destined to rule all of Asia. Over the many years that the knot had been there, many had attempted to unravel it and failed.

When Alexander confronted the knot in 333 BC, he initially tried to untie it by conventional means. However, after abortive efforts, he chose a different approach: he drew his sword and cut through the knot, solving the problem with a single, decisive action.

Since then, Alexander’s act has become a powerful metaphor for addressing seemingly intractable problems through bold solutions. Because, more often than not, the best way to address overwhelming complexity is through clear, decisive action — cutting through the complications and making the one choice that truly matters.

Sir Winston Churchill remarked, “The price of greatness is responsibility.” The choices we make define us, and in a world filled with distractions and diversions, the Torah helps us focus on what truly matters. By simplifying our decisions into “good” and “bad,” we not only avoid the pitfalls of decision paralysis but also align ourselves with the path of blessing, ensuring that our choices lead to meaningful and fulfilling lives.

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