The Paradox of Choice
In which Joe puts on his psychology hat and does some diagnostics on mainstream country.
Autonomy and freedom are paramount to our well-being; however, despite having more choices than ever, Americans appear to struggle with psychological health. Decisions are critical to freedom and autonomy. Nonetheless, while many modern Americans report having access to more choices than previous generations, this increase does not universally translate to greater psychological well-being.
—Barry Schwartz, The Paradox of Choice (2004)
This quote pithily sums up the theme and thesis of Schwartz's 2004 classic. In layman's terms, consumers nowadays are faced with an abundance of choice from everything ranging from the choice of laundry detergent to what restaurant they're going to eat from tonight to their spouse. As we will explore, this paradox of choice has transformed not only how we approach relationships but also how country music reflects these shifts in romantic attitudes and behaviors.
It is hard to overstate just how much modernity has changed the realities of dating. Larry McMurtry, the renowned Texan writer, is celebrated for his early career exploration of small-town Texan farming culture, which he observed as he grew up in the area. McMurtry was actually born to a relatively wealthy family, and the stories and descriptions that he wrote were often about people in a different socio-economic bracket than he was. It does not take away from the keenness of his eye, however.
A readily apparent element from his early works is the profound sense of isolating lonesomeness that enveloped small-town life circa first half of the 1900’s. It is a stark pushback against sepia-toned nostalgia and it is a reminder of the deep human yearning for connection amid vast emotional landscapes. The characters live either on their farms on the outskirts of, or in, the small town of Thalia. And although their imaginations may stretch beyond that; dreaming of greener pastures, bigger opportunities, more variety in the human experience etc., frequently they are penned in by the limitations of their lives.
In his classic Leaving Cheyenne, Gideon “Gid” Fry, the protagonist, is faced with very minimal choices in his growing love life. The impact of the small-town environment on romantic prospects is a theme explored by McMurtry in the Thalia trilogy— his early work surrounding the town of Thalia, a fictionalized take on the city his youth; Archer City, Texas. (Thalia is a real town, but the stories descriptions are more apt for his own hometown.)
Ultimately, Gid chooses to settle with Mabel Peters—one of the two or three people in town who are roughly his age, vaguely attractive, and generically marriageable. It's no surprise— and McMurtry pounds this message home— that Gid, who deeply longs for the reckless and free-spirited Molly Taylor, finds little joy in his marriage. Outlandish literary and plot points aside (this is not a book review, but I have some contrarian thoughts on this mostly loved classic), the commentary on old time small town life is very clear. Gid's options were limited by reality. And because they were so limited, he made a quick choice that resulted in unhappiness.
Now certainly, the limits don't need to result in unhappy relationships as they did in Leaving Cheyenne. After all, many look back at their grandparents, who may have been dating and finding each other in that same period of time, and see that they had wonderful marriages.
This gut instinct that older generations were happier finds support in statistical evidence.
Data findings emphasize a troubling trend of declining happiness over the past fifty years. This is especially true among females. (Stevenson B, Wolfers J, University of Pennsylvania, 2008)
Additionally, there are large decreases in marital satisfaction between the generations as well, with younger cohorts being significantly less satisfied with the state of their relationship as older generations. (Chen Y, Cowden RG, Fulks J, Plake JF, VanderWeele TJ, JAMA Psychiatry, 2022)
Putting this together we find an intriguing picture. Contra McMurtry, and the often accepted wisdom about the benefits of modernity, the increase in choice has not lead to an increase in happiness. This is surprising, or rather, I would like to suggest, it would have been surprising if not for Schwartz's “paradox of choice” thesis.
See, we live in the world of Tinder, the world of online dating, the world of ease of transportation, where someone might be born in Arizona, and then go to school for college in California, and then go to post-grad studies in Massachusetts. They might go to vacation to Costa Rica, Canada, or Europe. Maybe they were on a travel ball team as a kid and traveled all throughout the state. At every stop on the way, potential for partnering exists. The possibility of a more aligned partner is higher because the pool is larger. These are relatively unusual circumstances historically, but fairly normal nowadays. Theoretically, they should have positively influenced marital happiness as society has changed. Yet, they have not.
Schwartz's thesis is a wonderful explanation for why these factors have not increased happiness. For every valid advantage gained by having a diversity of options, there is an anxiety and paralysis induced when too many options are presented at once. As America and the world gain greater wealth and choices, the accompanying rise in anxiety similarly increases, leading to general dissatisfaction.
This paralysis explanation coheres with another reality of modern times; the rising age of marriage. There are many reasons for why the average age of marriage has risen, but certainly a factor is this idea of choice paralysis putting a slowing down effect on the dating-to-marriage path. The possibilities impede commitment, thereby pushing off the finality of marriage. People may feel overwhelmed by the nature of the dating field, and become unwilling to commit because there's a possibility that one swipe of the finger on an app and something better may pop up. The knock on effects of this play out over time with the waiting window growing evermore as more choices open up. This makes dating a longer, more stressful, and anxiety-inducing journey, full of second-guessing and self-doubt, even as it may lead to better spousal alignment at the end.
This is a very long way of saying that the way country music has talked about romance has dramatically changed. Music is often a form of cultural commentary. Sometimes intentionally, and sometimes not. The artist aims to put out something that reflects his/her life, or at least something commercially viable that resonates with audiences. This often inadvertently ends up as a useful heuristic with which to assess culture. After all, if it rings true with large audiences, it probably rings true on a society wide level.
When examining the eras of country music that overlap with the 2012-ish beginnings of full saturation smartphone culture, we can see distinct patterns that reflect Schwartz's paradox. Bro country classics like Luke Bryan's Play It Again focus entirely on the thrill of pursuit and the short term connection rather than long-term commitment. Bryans’s What She Wants Tonight or Jason Aldean's Burnin' It Down take this even further, explicitly celebrating hookup culture with zero discussion of lasting relationships. These songs position romance as primarily about the chase, the excitement of possibilities. They operate as a celebration of the Tinderized realities of life. In a world where romantic pursuits can consume a decade or more, the escapist entertainment focused themes of bro country ironically serve as a commentary on our collective obsession with pursuit and our struggles with love, commitment, and the anxieties that accompany modern choice.
Shifting to post pandemic, where online digitization of everything has continued apace, hit singles like Single Saturday Night by Cole Swindell, operate as a perfect mainstream example of this focus on pursuit. This song serves as a revealing commentary, illuminating the transient nature of modern relationships by centering entirely on the thrill of the chase, bypassing the concept of enduring bonds. Although it appears to be about a long-term relationship, the entirety of the story that is told occurs prior to the “forever after all”! It is all about being attracted to someone in a bar, and chasing after her. As it turns out, there is a happy ending, but that focus is all on the chase that occurred beforehand. For Swindell's intended audience, the marriage holds little significance. All that matters is the pursuit. Very telling.
In more recent hits, this pursuit focused cultural commentary continues apace. Take Russell Dickerson's Happen to Me. Despite it being a bloviating pop country song about a superficial hookup, it interestingly illuminates modern dating norms by the way certain patterns of regular dating small talk are referenced. The song's premise inherently and textually acknowledges the now fully established norms of transient and impersonal connections.
“And we did that "What's your name?" thing,
"Where you from and what's your favorite drink?"
She said, "Shut up, come and dance with me"…
…Don't even know she's 'bout to wreck someone
And, boys, I'm in trouble now, ain't even tryna get out,
So come on, baby, take me down”
Contrast all this with songs from a previous age where there was often a focus in the love songs on finding the right woman instead of settling down, creating commitment and bonds that last forever. Forever and Ever Amen, any average George Strait song, etc… Sure, hookup songs existed prior to the past twenty years, but they weren’t the most prevalent musical lens that society was viewed through. Historically, love songs prominently featured themes of marriage and lamented a lack of enduring stability, representing the prevalent narratives of earlier eras. These insights were logical given that a significantly higher proportion of the population was married in earlier decades. Again, we see the style of song reflecting cultural realities.
These ideas still do exist these days, often sung by steadily married artists such as Luke Combs or Thomas Rhett. They just stick out as “simping” and/or anachronistic compared to the edgier content pushed by the bold brash new faces of country music that the youth resonate with.
Morgan Wallen has released an entire career's worth of songs in the past few years, with only one or two fitting the romantic style of older country music. His entire persona is essentially based on [being a good ol’ boy who is] either chasing a girl or being rejected by a girl and his subsequent, usually alcohol related, reaction. This has been the case for nearly a decade for his work.
Just look at the lyrics for his early hit, “Chasin’ You”:
Chasin' you like a shot of whiskey,
Burning going down, burning going down,
Chasin' you like those goodbye taillights,
Headed west to anywhere out of this nowhere town,
Chasin' that freedom, chasin' that feeling that got gone too soon….
….Hell, I'm layin' here tonight holdin' someone new,
Still chasin' you, still chasin' you”
Then five some years later, he's still out there chasing after “Cowgirls” and reflecting about drunk hookups in “Last Night”. This is full throated Tinderized “paralysis of choice” induced reality being portrayed in Wallen’s music.
Soon, with the release of his new record, we will see if things have changed. Based on the pre-release, it seems the answer is not really. And why should it? This is our reality being refracted through the exaggerated prism of commercialized art.
Look, of course basic love songs still exist. However, the underlying changes detailed here are clearly apparent, especially on the most popular echelons of country music. The charting, streaming, and sales success indicates that these cultural hypotheses are on point, as the larger an audience, the more broad resonance of the common perspectives can be deduced. If classic themed long term love songs are losing relative popularity, or become the place of more niche independent acts, then the point is broadly proven, even if there is still latent popularity as a whole.
We see that exploring these trends reveals that the major changes in dating culture profoundly influence the themes in country music. As Schwartz might suggest, the abundance of choice has not made us happier or more fulfilled in our romantic pursuits. Instead it’s created anxiety, hesitation, and paralysis. Country music, as a storytelling medium, reflects this transformation by focusing on the thrill and uncertainty of pursuit. When country music aims to provide escapist fantasies, they get filtered through the “paradox of choice”, Tinderized hookup culture of pursuit. When it wishes to tell a soothing, everything works out in the end, kind of story, it also utilizes these settings, atmosphere, and assumptions about the world. With striking clarity it has mirrored our culture's shift from limited but decisive choices to unlimited but paralyzing options. The paradox remains. More choice has not delivered more satisfaction, in either love or the music that chronicles it.
This piece came together remarkably quickly. I wasn’t planning on doing another long form piece this month. Hope you enjoyed it.
Reviews, both current and vintage, should be coming soon. The backlog has built up enough.
Pushing publication to the beginning of the weekend because it's a busy holiday weekend for many. Enjoy!
Thanks for reading,
Joe