Subtract to Add

How simplicity builds resilience in a world of endless choices

Lately, I’ve noticed that the word “simple” comes up often when I think about overarching principles for living well.

What do I mean by that?

Only that simplicity seems to be a better strategy than complexity—for most things. Writing for sure. Gestures of love. Morning routines. It’s the concept of subtracting (--) rather than adding (++) in order to arrive at contentment and ultimately, resilient harmony.

Simplicity keeps expectations low, which increases the odds of satisfaction. More rules, steps, or inputs = expense, room for error, or perception of lack when a component is missing.

My skincare routine is super simple—none of this 10-step routine B.S.

I wash my face with a gentle cleanser twice a week. I moisturize after every shower and before bed each night. And that’s about it, save for some occasional sunscreen. Of course I analyze the options carefully before choosing anything. I like Mad Hippie’s Cream Cleanser and Barrier Cream, and use Everyday Oil for the face, neck, and upper body.

Getting dressed?

I have a uniform, but I also tend to wear the same things over and over until I get sick of them, rather than considering my entire wardrobe every day. I wear the same pants to work every day, only rotating my t-shirts. For leisure I have some go-tos. But I don’t overcomplicate the decision process.

Barack Obama, Steve Jobs, and other high-stakes leaders famously chose uniforms they felt comfortable in and could repeat day after day, because it helped them focus on the more important aspects of their work and life. By adopting a simple daily outfit formula, they preserved their finite decision-making energy.

Food? It should be no surprise that fresh, healthy cooking is often correlated with fewer ingredients.

In other words, the simpler the recipe, the better it probably is for you. When feeding myself, I focus on staples and simple pairings: tuna fish and avocado; cottage cheese and fruit; a pair of hardboiled eggs and a bowl of grape nuts for breakfast.

My favorite hot sauce (Crystal) only has three ingredients—cayenne peppers, vinegar, and salt.

Studies have shown that the more choices you have, the less satisfied you are (the paradox of choice).

This may be because with many options comes the stress of deciding. The onus of deciphering between twenty different kinds of coconut water takes more time and energy than if there were only two. When I lived in Italy I was shocked at how few different options there were for things like cereal or toothpaste. And then I figured it out—these are largely inconsequential products. There are more important things in life to litigate.

Lately I’ve also taken to doing fewer things than more in my day, and letting some things on the to-do list wait until they’re absolutely pressing. I’ve been much less stressed as a result.

This extends to things I need to buy. Usually I can push a need back another week if I really scrutinize what is behind the “need”—often it’s a fear of running out, rather than a truly current necessity. I believe this fear, of being caught without, is what drives bulk businesses like Costco. They have great deals, but it’s a simple transfer of storage costs onto the end user and off of the retailer and distributor.

Consuming ahead of real need is a gross symptom of the late-stage capitalism that we find ourselves in. Consume today, pay later. Receive present gratification at the accumulation (really just hoarding), and forget you have a stockpile in the back of the closet when the need arises in the future anyway.

A note on being a discerning consumer.

I’m all for choosing the best that you can find, that fits your needs, tastes, and budget. If I’m anything, I’m a thoughtful consumer.

But in our constantly churning world, specificity and being overly particular will ultimately paralyze us. Think about it: Brands come and go, the products those brands sell will change, or are reformulated or discontinued. Everything changes. Pricing, availability, even our own tastes. Being high-maintenance is a recipe for pain and suffering in the long run.

Clinging to a very specific anything is bound to end in disappointment. Instead of insisting on chosen brands or specific products, I think it’s better to prioritize the traits you think are non-negotiable, while leaving wiggle room for less crucial characteristics.

I try to lean into the attitude of “it’ll do” more than “but it isn’t the best…”

Simplicity also applies to how we manage our money and grow our wealth.

Warren Buffett famously said he never invested in any business he couldn’t himself understand. I’ve thought a lot about this lately, as I’ve worked to rebuild my own financial foundation. It doesn’t take tons of education, complexity, or scheming to build wealth. It just takes good financial habits, patience, and a strong personal grasp of where the money is going and how returns are being generated. In other words, transparency and simplicity.

There’s a song I love called Life Is Simple (Move Your Body) by Maesic and Marshall Johnson. It’s a silly dance bop but it always makes me laugh because it’s true!

Life is simple.

We complicate it with niche tastes, verbose opinions, and self-aggrandizing preferences (not to mention endless inner debate). These things may make us appear smarter, more cultured, or more unique, but they really serve to twist us into mental pretzels and anxiety loops—and separate us from one another and the natural world.

We live in the land of plenty, but the real sharp move is to live simply, and be able to find satisfaction in basic necessities, even in challenging circumstances.

Simplicity = resiliency, and resiliency may be the most powerful tool linked to survival and everyday contentment.