海角大神

When I was a child, I went to the store with enough birthday money in my pocket to buy a new game for my Nintendo. After carefully thinking about the options before me, I whittled my choice down to two video game titles: Rampage and Castlevania II: Simon鈥檚 Quest. After hemming and hawing until my mother was getting quite frustrated, I finally settled on Rampage.

I took the game home, played it for an hour, and hated it. I mean, hated it. For some reason, the designers of the game made the choice to give all players infinite lives, which essentially meant that you could never lose. There was no real point to the game.

Even though it was obvious I had picked up a very disappointing game, I tried to make myself believe that it was a good choice. I would make regular attempts to play it. I would coerce my friends into playing it until they begged to play anything else. I even went so far as to play the other game I considered (Castlevania II) at my cousin鈥檚 house and tell myself that the game was awful, even though I actually liked that one quite a bit.

Although this is a very extreme example, we all do some form of this at various points in our lives. We buy something. It鈥檚 not up to the standards we expected at all. Yet, we want to believe that we didn鈥檛 waste our resources, so we try to rationalize the purchase.

I have three observations about post-purchase rationalization from my own life.

It happens much more often with impulse buys than with carefully-planned purchases. Let鈥檚 roll back to that video game analogy, above. My game purchase was pretty impulsive. I didn鈥檛 have access to a wide range of reviews of the two games. In fact, I mostly made the purchase on the spur of the moment. My choice resulted from remembering a fun afternoon at an arcade with my cousin in which we played several games of Rampage together. Today, I make most of my purchases in a vastly different way. I usually research the choices into oblivion. I read reviews. I ask myself if I really need this item and, if I do, whether or not this particular item gives me adequate bang for my buck. That doesn鈥檛 mean I鈥檓 immune to impulse buys. They strike me still with some regularity, most often in a bookstore or in a grocery store. Sometimes I鈥檒l be happy with my choice; at other times, I鈥檒l read the book or consume the item and feel pretty disappointed.

I often try to forget about those poor purchases. Rather than thinking about them, I usually try to sweep them under the rug. I鈥檒l toss out the remainder of an awful food item just to get it out of my eye. I鈥檒l quickly trade away a disappointing book. My method for 鈥渞ationalization鈥� of those purchases often comes in the form of simply getting them out of my sight 鈥� and thus, often, out of my mind.

When I can鈥檛 get rid of the purchase, I usually try to 鈥渂reak鈥� it. I don鈥檛 mean that I attempt to smash the item or anything. Instead, I try to use it heavily to force the item to either prove itself or to fail in some distinctive way so that I have a reason to replace it. Think kitchen items, for example; if I buy a knife that doesn鈥檛 鈥渃lick,鈥� I鈥檒l try using it all the time until I discover a true use for it or I discover so many flaws that it鈥檚 replace-worthy. In its own way, this is a justification mechanism, as I鈥檓 forcing myself to either justify the purchase or justify a replacement for it.

These three observations lead straight to a few solutions to keep post-purchase rationalization from ever becoming an issue.

First, simply curb those impulse buys. Instead, write down the item and research it a bit. If you still want it and can still afford it, buy it later on. Walk away from it, though, if you don鈥檛 know anything about it other than what鈥檚 on the shiny packaging.

Second, if an item doesn鈥檛 work for you, admit it. Don鈥檛 try to beat yourself up over it, or stubbornly use it while making a mess of everything else (which can often happen with a kitchen implement, for example). If you made a mistake, admit that you made a mistake. Then, ask yourself how to deal with that mistake.

Finally, once you recognize the mistake, focus on a good solution for it. Can you trade away the item for something you actually will use? Does the item still have resale value? Turn that mistake into something more positive by quickly turning it into some form of a gain in your life. For example, if I read a book I don鈥檛 like, I almost always trade it away quickly on and then get a book that I will enjoy. This way, I at least wind up getting some value for the money I spent.

Don鈥檛 rationalize your mistakes. Instead, face them and look for ways to improve on your choices. A mistake is an opportunity to improve yourself.

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