On Scarcity and "The Best Of"

I think Yelp is fucking stupid. I frequently get into spats with my foodie friends about this point.

For me personally, Yelp (as a consumer service) has absolutely no value whatsoever. I mean, I believe in the value of crowdsourcing, and I also believe that bad businesses should be held accountable for shitty food/service/whatever in a public forum. I also don't really care about the fact that Yelp essentially extorts money from small businesses.

Here's my beef (no pun intended) -- I truly don't feel like I live in a world filled with bad restaurants.

Let's back up for a second. At its core, Yelp and similar services depend on the following heuristic:

• Some or most restaurants are bad.
• I would like to avoid bad restaurants.
• Therefore, I should use whatever information I can to avoid bad restaurants and seek good ones.

Put another way, Yelp relies on the assumption that good restaurants are scarce, and therefore valuable.

I don't doubt that you (dear reader) might share this opinion. And I also don't doubt that some restaurants are bad, or that some people get a lot of value out of Yelp. But, for me, it just doesn't feel like there is any sizable risk of going to a dissatisfying restaurant. I've probably been to over a thousand restaurants in my life, and I've enjoyed around 98% of the meals I've eaten at them. You could take me to almost any restaurant in the world and I'd feel confident that something on the menu will delight me.

Furthermore, my girlfriend Rachel periodically cooks me meals, and I've literally enjoyed every single one of them. I also enjoy every meal my mom makes me, even though she claims to be a middling cook. "Bad" food -- or at least being in a situation where I'm sitting at a table and can't acquire "good" food -- is not something I subjectively experience very often. Hence, services that promise to find me "the best restaurant in northeast San Francisco!" are totally lost on me.

But again, I don't doubt that some other people get value from finding (or from seeking?) "the best".

In fact, there are a lot of companies that earn their keep by feeding our desire for "the best". There are services that help us find the best romantic partner. There are services that help us find the best plumber. There are services that help us find the best people to follow on Twitter. People continue to use Sidecar because picking "the best" driver is more valuable to some people than getting a stock commodity driver. The message throughout is the same: Good stuff is rare, bad stuff is everywhere, we'll help you find the good stuff.

I find this notion wrong, noxious, dangerous, and depressing. And I also don't believe this accurately describes the world we live in -- that in fact, these companies prey on our quest for "the best", irrespective of whether "the best" is a concept that even exists.

Here's an example that illustrates my last point: Many people claim to believe in soulmates. Yet, if you observe who people (read: westerners) marry, it's overwhelmingly people who they met at work or through friends. How can anybody believe in soulmates when they've only interacted with 0.0000001% of all humans on the planet? How could we even measure who the best people or partners are?

Let me give you another example. Many people claim that one's skiing performance is tightly tied to which kind of ski boots are worn; that getting a perfect fit is really, really important. Yet, people shopping for ski boots usually buy the first or second pair they try on. How can both of those statements be true? Maybe it's because our unhealthy obsession with getting "the best" gear is essential for selling magazines and, well, gear.

I don't think we live in a world where going to the best restaurant, or wearing the best wristwatch, or having the best music production equipment means a whole lot. It seems like we'd be a lot happier if we learned to enjoy the food at the restaurant, regardless of which restaurant we're at. Or put work in to love the one we're with, even if they only possess 67% of the attributes we desire. Or picked up the fucking guitar and spent some time practicing instead of pining over the newest Fender Stratocaster.

Plus, there's no such thing as "the best restaurant". And even if you went to it... who the hell cares? Time spent on a magical quest for "the best" of anything is time better spent actually honing a craft, or being compassionate, or in this case, learning the ability to appreciate what's around you instead of meandering through life in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction.