What the data actually shows
The most famous demonstration is Iyengar and Lepper's 2000 'jam study,' in which shoppers offered a display of 24 jams were far less likely to actually buy than those offered a display of 6, even though the larger display drew more initial interest. The finding — sometimes called choice overload — is that too many options can paralyse rather than empower. It is worth noting that later attempts to replicate choice overload have been mixed, so the effect is real but context-dependent rather than universal.
There is also research on what is often called decision fatigue: the idea that making many decisions can degrade the quality of later ones. Some influential studies and the broader 'ego depletion' framework supported this, but parts of that literature have faced serious replication problems, so the strong version of decision fatigue should be treated with caution. The gentler, better-supported point is that sustained deliberation is effortful and that effort accumulates.
Barry Schwartz's work on 'maximisers' versus 'satisficers' adds another piece: people who try to find the best possible option (maximisers) tend to spend more time deciding and report less satisfaction with their choices than people who settle for 'good enough' (satisficers). The deliberation itself, and the opportunity cost of every rejected alternative, becomes part of what the decision costs.
In Iyengar and Lepper's 2000 experiment, the 24-jam display drew more initial interest but far fewer actual purchases than the 6-jam display — a striking illustration that more choice can reduce action. Later replications of choice overload have been mixed, so treat the effect as real but context-dependent.
Why this feels different from how it actually is
Deciding doesn't feel like spending time because it rarely looks like activity. Standing in front of the fridge, scrolling for something to watch, re-reading the menu — these read as pauses rather than tasks, so the minutes and the mental effort they consume slip by unattributed.
More options also feel like a gift right up until you have to choose among them. The promise of finding the perfect pick is appealing, which is why we seek out abundance; the cost only shows up later, in the slower decision and the nagging sense that something better was on the list.
And small decisions feel free individually, so their accumulation is invisible. No single 'what should I do now?' is expensive, but dozens of them across a day quietly draw down the same limited pool of attention you need for everything else, which is why the day can feel tiring without feeling productive.
The abundance that feels like freedom often quietly becomes a tax on time and on contentment.
What the research says to do about it
The most robust practical implication is to satisfice more and maximise less for low-stakes decisions. Schwartz's work suggests that adopting a 'good enough' standard for trivial choices preserves time and tends to leave people more satisfied, because chasing the optimal option mostly buys deliberation and regret rather than meaningfully better outcomes.
Reducing the number of decisions also helps more than deciding faster. Routines, defaults, and pre-commitments — deciding once how you'll handle a recurring choice — remove the daily re-deliberation, which is why so many people standardise small things to protect attention for larger ones.
Constraining the option set is supported by the choice-overload work, even with its caveats. Deliberately narrowing the field — fewer items to compare, a shorter shortlist — tends to make choosing faster and more satisfying than facing the full, overwhelming range.
What the research says does not help
Seeking out more options to make a better decision usually backfires for everyday choices. The choice-overload research suggests that beyond a point, additional alternatives slow you down and reduce satisfaction, so 'just look at a few more' tends to cost time and contentment rather than improving the pick.
Trying to find the single best option — maximising — is one of the least helpful habits for low-stakes decisions. It reliably increases deliberation time and decreases satisfaction compared with settling for good enough, because the marginal gain rarely justifies the added effort and regret.
Leaning hard on 'decision fatigue' as an excuse is also shaky, since parts of that literature have not replicated well. Treating willpower as a tank that empties on a fixed schedule oversells the science; the safer, supported point is simply that sustained deliberation is effortful, so reducing the number of decisions beats trying to ration a precisely measured reserve.
Reducing the number of decisions helps more than deciding faster.
What this looks like in real life
The fridge, the menu, the watchlist
Standing in front of the fridge, re-reading the menu, scrolling for something to watch — none of these read as tasks, so the minutes and mental effort slip by unattributed. No single 'what should I do now?' is expensive, but dozens across a day quietly draw down the same attention you need for everything else.
The maximiser at the checkout
Someone determined to find the single best option keeps looking for a few more alternatives, sure the perfect pick is on the list. Schwartz's work suggests this mostly buys more deliberation and a nagging sense that something better was missed — more time spent, and less satisfaction with what they finally choose.
Real numbers in context
The clearest number comes from the jam study: shoppers facing 24 options bought far less often than those facing 6 (Iyengar and Lepper, 2000) — a striking illustration that more choice can reduce action, though later replications of choice overload have been mixed, so the effect is real but context-dependent rather than guaranteed.
There is no reliable figure for total time lost to deciding across a day, and you should be wary of anyone who offers a precise one. The supported pattern is qualitative but consistent: small recurring decisions accumulate, maximising costs more time and satisfaction than satisficing (Schwartz), and deliberation is genuinely effortful even if the strong 'decision fatigue' claims remain contested.