Dining out with me is an experience. Because when I go to a restaurant, I go with a game plan: to enjoy the most delicious meal it offers, hopefully at the lowest price. Once presented with a menu, I cannot engage in conversation until I make my choice, because I’m too distracted by the options in front of me. Some people are daunted by five- or six-page menus; I view them as a challenge. If I know ahead of time where I’ll be dining that evening, I look up the menu online for a head start and then ruminate on it all day. I ask servers for their opinions. I search for coupons. I calculate in my head whether the $15 chicken dish is really a better deal than the $20 seafood one, taking into account the fact that I make chicken at home all the time but I can’t easily re-create almond-encrusted halibut in my own kitchen.
I ask and listen to what others are ordering so I can weigh my choice against theirs. On more than one occasion, I’ve tracked down a server to change my order. And if my meal doesn’t live up to the high, high standards I’ve set for it, I think of it not just as a misstep by the chef, but as a personal failure: I didn’t order correctly. I should’ve gotten the halibut. I can think of one person I might compare my restaurant behavior to: Sally from When Harry Met Sally. She tailored every order; she added things, held things, and got things on the side. Like I am, Sally was a restaurant maximizer.
Maximizers and Satisficers
In the 1950s, a psychologist named Herbert Simon started taking a closer look at the way people make choices. The prevailing theory, espoused in economic models, was that people are rational decision makers. Like diners at a buffet, they examine all options before them, assess the costs and benefits of those options, and make a rational selection that maximizes value. Simon, however, thought this theory was flawed; it didn’t take into account the fact that—sorry to say, folks—human rationality is limited. It’s not possible to know everything about every option or to evaluate every possible outcome.
Simon theorized that not everyone is necessarily looking for maximum value. He believed that when people make decisions, they act as either a maximizer or a satisficer. A maximizer seeks and accepts only the best possible outcome. She gathers as much information as she can about as many options as possible, paying the price of time and energy. Once she makes a decision, she’ll compare her outcome with the choices people around her make. A maximizer always wonders, “Is there something better out there?”
A satisficer, on the other hand, is satisfied when something suffices. She’s not looking for the best outcome as much as she’s seeking a good-enough outcome. She’ll choose the first option that meets her standards. Those standards aren’t necessarily low—they could be quite high—but when they’re met, she is happy.
To understand the maximizer and the satisficer, consider my process of choosing a dentist. My criteria were that the office should be close to where I live and accept my health insurance. I found a list of accepted providers within a five-mile radius on my insurance company’s Web site and picked the first name that jumped out at me. I was satisficing. If I had been maximizing, I might have sought out recommendations from friends, looked at each dentist’s Web site, and read online reviews and rankings. I surely could have found a better dentist, one who went to a better med school, had a nicer waiting room, and used laughing gas. But those things weren’t important to me. I was happy with my decision because it was good enough.
