Fig Trees and the Paradox of Choice
- Sophie Murray
- 7 days ago
- 6 min read
As I approach the end of my master’s degree and find myself once again confronted by the question of what comes next, I am reminded of Sylvia Plath’s 1963 semi-autobiographical novel The Bell Jar. In this book, Plath beautifully illustrates indecision and future possibilities through her fig tree analogy.
The protagonist Esther Greenwood imagines herself sitting before a fig tree, with each fig representing her future; one fig symbolises her career, another family, and another travel. Paralysed by indecision and fear of regretting her choice, Esther watches as time passes and her choices reduce, the figs rot.
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
Despite being written over 60 years ago, this metaphor remains relevant today. Nearly everyone can relate to the feeling of indecision, the sense that every choice you make for the future means forgoing ten others. Worrying about making the wrong decision might mean that the right decision passes you by as you sit and struggle to make any decision at all.
Paradox of Choice
This metaphor poignantly captures the psychological phenomenon of the paradox of choice, a concept by Barry Schwartz, which suggests that the more options we have, the less satisfied we feel with our decisions. This happens because an abundance of choice requires greater cognitive effort, which can lead to decision fatigue and a stronger sense of regret about the choices we make.
When you were younger, and a teacher asked what you wanted to be when you grew up, you might’ve said a doctor, an astronaut, or a footballer. Then maybe as you got older, you realised you could also be a lawyer or a writer. And you could travel the world, visit Asia or South America. You could also start a family, live in a different country, or dedicate yourself to studying. According to the paradox of choice, no matter what you choose, you may feel unsatisfied and as though there were other, better alternatives you could have picked.
Moreover, Schwartz argues that the paradox of choice has the greatest consequences for "maximisers", people who strive for the ‘optimal’ outcome. Unlike "satisficers", who are content with a "good enough" option, maximisers aim for the absolute best choice. When faced with many alternatives, this can make it more difficult to identify the best choice, often leading to increased regret after the decision is made.
Schwartz’s concept came from a seminal paper by Sheena Iyengar and Mark Lepper, who wanted to see how the volume of choice might impact consumer behaviour. They set up tasting booths in a supermarket that displayed either a limited (six) or extensive (twenty-four) selection of different flavours of jam, and measured customers’ interest in the booths and what they bought. The researchers found that although customers were initially more attracted to visit the extensive choice booth, those who visited the limited choice booth were more likely to purchase the jams. They concluded that an abundance of choices might lead someone to not make any decision at all.
Decision Paralysis and Perfectionism
Decision paralysis is a state in which we, overwhelmed by potential choices, are unable to act.
Confronted with too many options, we freeze and feel confused about what the ‘right’ choice might be. Shadowed by ‘should of’ and ‘could of’, we just can’t make up our mind about what we want.
Decision paralysis is closely tied to perfectionism: the desire for the best outcome, to make the ‘perfect’ choice, whilst also having the fear of getting it wrong. As explored in this ITM article by Courtney Worrell, perfectionism can turn into a hypercritical relationship with yourself, leading to anxiety and a constant fear of failure as you second-guess yourself and your choices. As expected, this mindset can make decisions feel overwhelming. When you’re aiming for the ‘perfect’ outcome, every option carries huge pressure, and instead of choosing what feels right, you end up comparing every detail, fixating on what is missing.
What if I finish my master’s and pursue a PhD? In a few years, will I wish that I had spent more time travelling? What if I instead dedicate years to travelling, would I then wish I had a stable career when I got back? What if I prioritise starting a family when I am young? Would I then wish I had spent more time alone? What if I focus on my career, but then wish I had kids earlier?
Of course, the assumption that having fewer options may lead to less anxiety may not always be true. In reality, people are complicated, and sometimes having one option can feel just as frustrating. For example, getting just one job offer from the hundreds of applications you sent might make you feel like you’re stuck and don’t have a choice, whereas having two or three responses offers more control over your future. Schwartz acknowledges this and suggests that it’s about finding the right balance between too many and not enough options; receiving one job offer might be just as anxiety-inducing as receiving one hundred, and a tree with one fig might leave you as stuck as a tree with twenty.
Choosing the Fig Anyway
However, what if there was no "best fig"?
Perhaps the tragedy Esther imagines is not that she chooses incorrectly, but that she believes choosing one life means the permanent death of all the others. In reality, lives are so rarely fixed; careers change, people reinvent themselves. New branches grow.
Mourning the unchosen paths is a universal part of life. There will always be alternative versions of ourselves -the poet, the parent, the professor, the traveller- who may only live in our imagination. But the real danger isn’t choosing the wrong version, it’s not choosing one at all. It’s sitting in the tree for so long, paralysed by perfectionism and fear, that the sweetness of choice itself disappears.
Revel in the privilege to decide your future. Acknowledge that there is no right choice, that you can pick and choose from as many alternatives as you want. Even Esther, who once starved beneath the fig tree, imagined the possibility of a fresh start.
"My stocking seams were straight, my black shoes cracked, but polished, and my red wool suit flamboyant as my plans. Something old, something new... But I wasn't getting married. There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice—patched, retreaded and approved for the road..."
And so, as I finish my degree and think about my future, I will remind myself that there is no best path. Every decision I make will contain both fulfllment and struggle, and none will leave me completely, wholly satisfied. I will shift from black and white thinking of “what is the absolute best choice” to “what is the right choice for me right now” and acknowledge that my priorities will change as I grow as a person.
I will remember that it's better to taste one ripe fig than to eat no figs at all.
