We face an unprecedented abundance of options in nearly every aspect of our lives. From endless streaming content to supermarket aisles packed with variations of the same product, modern life is characterized by a constant bombardment of choices that are marketed as an exercise of freedom, but often deliver paralysis of action. The New Yorker’s Critics At Large ask: Is such abundance actually making our lives better?

The paradox of choice: “Night falls, and there I am, looking slack-jawed at Netflix,” says writer Naomi Fry. “What of these 17 horrible new documentaries about various murders am I going to watch?” This sentiment resonates across various aspects of our lives. Her peer, Liam Cunningham shares his experience poring over health insurance options for his newborn, trying to understand small technical differences the average layman couldn’t comprehend.

The connection between choice and freedom is a recent development. Sophia Rosenfeld’s The Age of Choice: A History of Freedom in Modern Life, traces how choice and freedom became intertwined concepts all the way back to 18th century London auction houses. The rise of auctioning created the unprecedented experience of “shopping” by displaying curated items published in pamphlets ahead of time, allowing potential buyers to browse through before making decisions. This marked a significant shift in consumer culture that would ultimately lead to modern shopping malls, and — now — to the endless digital storefronts on our phones.

Despite seeming to have endless options, our meaningful choices may be more limited than we think. Our role as constant decision-makers is itself something imposed on us by market forces. Algorithms on social media and streaming platforms determine the content we see, creating an illusion of free browsing while actually showing us a pre-selected set of options.

Can we find relief in constraint? Many people now find comfort in deliberately limiting their options through small acts of surrendering choices to offset decision fatigue. How? By using streaming services, like Criterion 24/7, that randomly select movies for you to watch without any user input, similar to the television viewing experience of yore. People will also sign up for meal subscription boxes, which deliver food to you without making you choose each item. Even just taking walks without planning a route can help you embrace spontaneity instead of constant planning and decision-making.

These acts of giving up choice point to a deeper hunger for connection and community in an era defined by individual consumption. “When all you do is choose, choose, choose, self, self, self,” says Cunningham, “what you end up with is [being] by yourself, is loneliness.”