Fewer choices, better work and the hidden cost of “keeping all options open”

“Let’s not lock anything in yet.”

It sounds smart. Strategic. Calm under pressure. But more often than not, it’s the moment another meeting appears and momentum quietly drains away.

Because when everything stays open, very little actually moves.

In a well-known study, shoppers were more drawn to a table piled high with a wide variety of jam flavours. But when it came time to buy, they mostly walked away. The smaller table with fewer flavours of jam to choose from - that’s where the purchases happened. More choice was entertaining. Fewer choices actually got people to decide. Browsing feels good. Choosing gets results.

On already difficult days, unlimited choice is not a benefit. It’s a tax.

It’s the mental equivalent of standing in front of an overstuffed fridge, door open, light blazing, knowing you’re hungry and leaving with options… but no dinner.

Nothing is wrong. There are plenty of options. You just can’t decide.

This is what “keeping all options open” often looks like at work. No clear priority, just a series of maybes. No decision, just “let’s revisit this next week.”No direction, just a sense that you should probably be doing something — you’re just not sure what.

So people hover. They start tasks but don’t finish them. They prepare for multiple futures instead of committing to one. They keep mental tabs open, just in case.

It’s exhausting.

Optionality asks the brain to keep scanning, comparing, holding - even when energy is already low. That quiet background effort adds up. Not dramatically. Just steadily. Like carrying a backpack that gets heavier with every meeting.

This is where overwhelm sneaks in. Not because the work is too hard, but because nothing has been chosen. And when someone finally says, “This is the priority,” you can almost feel the room exhale. Shoulders relax. Pens move. Work happens.

Fewer choices don’t limit what’s possible, but they stop energy from leaking everywhere.