CHOICE
CUTS
Sydney
Sun Herald
21-06-1998
by
Paul McDermott
Paul McDermott isnt so keen
on the idea of liberty if it means he has to pass a
multiple-choice exam every morning.
We are faced with a complex
and distressing dilemma in the modern age: we have too many
choices. In our blind quest for ultimate freedom we have placed
our daily liberty in jeopardy. Everyday we are forced to make
decisions ranging from the mind-bogglingly difficult to the
blindingly simple. As the world contracts about us it has become
far denser, far more impractical. We are inundated by
information, overcome by difference and baffled by variety. I
believe we have reached a point where we must make a decision
about making decisions or we may reach a point where the decision
making process is all we are capable of.
The full terror of what the
future holds was hammered home when I attempted to order
breakfast at a common cafe. My request was simple enough: bacon
and eggs on toast, a pot of tea and orange jucie, but the
conversation that followed left me dazed, confused and unable to
eat.
"How do you want the
bacon?"
I thought this was a trick question and without meaning to be
rude, replied: "Cooked...." The waitress stared at me
with lifeless eyes. I suspect she made a quick and unjustified
character assessment as she mumbled under her breath something
that sounded like "arsehole".
"Do you want it streaky
crisp, rindless, heavy on the fat, grilled or fried?"
Bacon had always been bacon
to me. There was no great mystery; you asked for it and it
arrived. A strip of pig nestled beside the unborn emryos of
chickens, was that too much to ask for?
"Eggs? Sunnyside up,
over easy, runny, fried, poached, scrambled, hard-boiled, free
range or battery?"
I couldnt cope. I grabbed at
the last word I heard. As it spluttered from my mouth I realised,
too late. I shouldn't have said battery. The other customers
stopped eating and peered at me in disgust. A sweat formed on my
brow. I had become, in an instant, a social pariah. I needed to
catch my breath. I have never suffered asthma but I wanted a
blast of Ventolin. The waitress had me on the ropes; she could
see the fear in my eyes and she continued, in her merciless
fashion, to destroy me.
"Toast? White,
vitamin-enriched, high-enery, brown, rye, sourdought,
multi-grain, yeast-free, pumpernickel, Turkish, organic?"
Adrenalin pumped into my
veins. I could hear my heartbeat as a dull thud in the centre of
my body.
"Freshly squeeezed
orange juice or the other stuff?"
I could sense her readying
for the kill but, for some reason, she took pity on me and moved
slowly away from the table.
My inability to deal with the
situation made me acutely aware of other similar circumstances,
where multiplicity has made life difficult. Once everyone had the
same haircut, listened to the same music, wore the same clothes,
ate the same food and genuinely enjoyed life - then war came
along and mined everything. Men and women fought bravely for our
freedom to choose, but they didn't have to contend with hundreds
of different mobile-phone plans.
In the near future we must
make the choice for less choice. We must decide to be indecisive,
curtail our ever-expanding freeedom and recover our libert.
Choice has always ben promoted as a good thing, but anyone knows
that a difficult decision can cause a great amount of distress.
How much unnecesary anguish do we endure each and every day?
By the time the food arrived
I had lost my appetite, but the waitress has one more surprise in
store for me. A maniacal grin crossed her face.
"What type of milk do
you want with your tea? Full cream, skin, calcium-enriched,
iron-enriched, soy, low-fat or chocolate?"
Thanks to
Ursula for this Article
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