Meet Alex and Jordan. They work in the same office and live in the same neighborhood. Every single morning, they have the exact same debate about their commute.
Alex’s Preference: Alex always takes the Highway. “It’s the standard way,” Alex says. “Sure, sometimes there’s a massive wreck and I’m stuck for an hour, but it’s the way I’ve always gone. It feels right.”
Jordan’s Preference: Jordan always takes the Backroads. “The highway is too unpredictable,” Jordan argues. “I like the backroads because even if they are slower on a clear day, I’m moving. I’ve done this for five years, and I’m not changing now.”
The Perplexing Situation
One Tuesday morning, their local GPS app shows a rare event: a chemical spill has closed the Highway, and a local festival has shut down the Backroads. There is a third option—a newly opened bridge that is currently 20 minutes faster than both of their usual routes.
Despite seeing the data on their phones:
- Alex still pulls onto the Highway on-ramp, thinking, “Maybe the spill will be cleared by the time I get there.”
- Jordan still turns toward the Backroads, thinking, “The festival might not have started yet; I’ll stick to what I know.”
Both end up being two hours late to the office.
Why makes Alex and Jordan stick to their preferences even when the world around them changes?
- Are they just being stubborn?
- Is there a “comfort” in a bad outcome you predicted versus a “risk” in a good outcome you didn’t?
- Why does our brain treat “doing what we’ve always done” as the safest bet, even when it’s objectively the worst choice?
