The law of diminishing returns
Nov 4, 2016 13:18:51 GMT
Post by Humph on Nov 4, 2016 13:18:51 GMT
I've been off this week. Didn't go away but we've been alternating days of prepping the garden for winter with some fun days out at various mountain biking venues.
Last night, more or less inevitably, I found myself researching new bike options. It always happens when I've been using mine a lot and seeing and chatting to others on the latest and fanciest kit.
Predictably enough, over the course of the evening, I had managed to convince myself that my life couldn't go on without another upgrade and the only decision left was not whether to do that, but what form it would take.
Now to contextualise this, I already have a couple of really good bikes, so does my son and indeed so does my wife. I really don't need anything better right now and have thoroughly enjoyed using mine this week. But that little pixie on my shoulder just kept on whispering in my ear...
Then this morning I thought about it again, I remembered reading an article that discussed the law of diminishing returns when buying bikes. At entry level prices you are indeed getting some rubbish that will fail in use, not be pleasant to ride and might in some circumstances, particularly off road, be actually dangerous. Go up market a little bit and you get something quite usable, ok maybe not the latest tech or fashion but perfectly adequate for occasional use, spend a wee bit more and you can put yourself on something that comes within a smidge of the capabilities of the really specialist stuff. Sure, if you were a hard core racer you might be able to justify the next level and beyond in order to shave fractions of seconds off your times or jump a couple of feet further or climb a bit quicker but really, it's much more about fitness, experience and technique at that point than anything else.
Which got me to thinking about other consumer goods we seduce ourselves into buying because we persuade ourselves, or allow ourselves to be persuaded, that they will provide us with an increase in benefit commensurate with the additional cost. Take cars for example, in most cases you can buy at the very least, a base model, a slightly more highly equipped one and a version with all the toys all based on the same bodyshell.
Often the difference in price is quite significant, certainly between the top and the bottom of the specification range, but for various reasons we can find ourselves willingly paying the extra for things that while nice to have, don't really significantly change the resulting usefulness or driving pleasure of the car in question.
Most things have have a sweet spot, the point where you're getting all the good things you might want or need, without paying a lot more for really very little extra.
I still want a new bike by the way, so I'm not immune from this trait by any stretch, but I've decided I'm not going to have one yet. Only yesterday, I was howling down the side of a Welsh mountain on my current bike with a king sized grin on my face, thoroughly enjoying myself and come to think about it, I'm not convinced that I'd have been grinning any wider on a "better" bike.
The grass really is always greener in our heads, but sometimes we tend to forget how good it already is on our own side of the fence.
Last night, more or less inevitably, I found myself researching new bike options. It always happens when I've been using mine a lot and seeing and chatting to others on the latest and fanciest kit.
Predictably enough, over the course of the evening, I had managed to convince myself that my life couldn't go on without another upgrade and the only decision left was not whether to do that, but what form it would take.
Now to contextualise this, I already have a couple of really good bikes, so does my son and indeed so does my wife. I really don't need anything better right now and have thoroughly enjoyed using mine this week. But that little pixie on my shoulder just kept on whispering in my ear...
Then this morning I thought about it again, I remembered reading an article that discussed the law of diminishing returns when buying bikes. At entry level prices you are indeed getting some rubbish that will fail in use, not be pleasant to ride and might in some circumstances, particularly off road, be actually dangerous. Go up market a little bit and you get something quite usable, ok maybe not the latest tech or fashion but perfectly adequate for occasional use, spend a wee bit more and you can put yourself on something that comes within a smidge of the capabilities of the really specialist stuff. Sure, if you were a hard core racer you might be able to justify the next level and beyond in order to shave fractions of seconds off your times or jump a couple of feet further or climb a bit quicker but really, it's much more about fitness, experience and technique at that point than anything else.
Which got me to thinking about other consumer goods we seduce ourselves into buying because we persuade ourselves, or allow ourselves to be persuaded, that they will provide us with an increase in benefit commensurate with the additional cost. Take cars for example, in most cases you can buy at the very least, a base model, a slightly more highly equipped one and a version with all the toys all based on the same bodyshell.
Often the difference in price is quite significant, certainly between the top and the bottom of the specification range, but for various reasons we can find ourselves willingly paying the extra for things that while nice to have, don't really significantly change the resulting usefulness or driving pleasure of the car in question.
Most things have have a sweet spot, the point where you're getting all the good things you might want or need, without paying a lot more for really very little extra.
I still want a new bike by the way, so I'm not immune from this trait by any stretch, but I've decided I'm not going to have one yet. Only yesterday, I was howling down the side of a Welsh mountain on my current bike with a king sized grin on my face, thoroughly enjoying myself and come to think about it, I'm not convinced that I'd have been grinning any wider on a "better" bike.
The grass really is always greener in our heads, but sometimes we tend to forget how good it already is on our own side of the fence.
