This week I heard about a concept called “Addition by Subtraction.” My brain started whirring.
I’ve thought about this before, using different words. What, for example, is the cost savings of a heart attack that never happens? Or an asthma attack? An ER visit that never happens? Put the other way, what would a few days away from school cost you? Or a month away from work?
Addition by subtraction is about taking something away, and discovering that you end up with more. You might even say that you end up the better for it. It’s about eating an apple instead of a cookie, and finding that it filled you up and satisfied you with the crunch, and the sweetness, and the peanut butter you put on it.
It’s about water or iced tea, scrambled eggs or fried, oatmeal with raisins or without. It’s not about the large numbers of types of soda and “breakfast cereal” and non-dairy creamers. Those large numbers are a clue to the size of the profit margin. Not that I have anything against profit; I do not. But not at the expense of our health.
I once read an article about the success of Disneyworld. The article stated that Disneyworld figured out how to use the concept of decreasing choices to increase visitor satisfaction and profits. When you go to Disneyworld the choices are more limited than you might expect. Only a few items on the menus. Only a few types of restaurants. Only a few kinds of activities. Go on the rides, buy a shirt, collect some pins. Fireworks at the end. You never saw so many happy kids.
Addition by subtraction is about preventing injuries by wearing bike helmets and buckling seat belts.
It reminds me of the time I heard my son’s friend explain to him how having to put on a uniform every day at her new private school made getting ready in the morning so much easier.
It’s about discovering that limiting a child’s choices translates into greater contentment. It might seem paradoxical at first, but it’s not. Having too many choices makes things more, not less, stressful.
It’s also about discovering that if you limit your options you find yourself exercising your problem-solving muscles more vigorously. To me, that always feels good. Years ago, actually decades ago, before food restrictions became popular, we invited new friends for dinner. They were hesitant to accept because he had a wheat allergy, and she had a dairy allergy. Or maybe it was the other way around; I can’t remember. All I know is that it was so much fun to figure out what to make. I still remember what we ate that night: turkey meatballs, roasted potatoes, and salad. I thought of it as a challenge, one that required me to get creative, and it was great.
It’s all about keeping things simple. It’s addition by subtraction, and I love it.