A Matter of Milliseconds

Wired editor Chris Anderson, in his book 'Free: The Future of a Radical Price,' writes about an idea called 'The Penny Gap.' In most cases, the jump in cost from free to a penny "can stop the vast majority of consumers in their tracks." This isn't because we are so concerned with our pennies going unsaved and unearned, but because the mere act of seeing a cost, however insignificant, causes us to weigh the benefits of the offer in a way we would never do when free. Rather than deal with that extra thinking, we typically ignore the penny offer. Officially, this brain-tax is named 'mental transaction costs.'

We have 'mental transaction costs' in things other than price. Frequently we find them in micropayments of time, things that require so little effort that we don't bother to break our inertia, thus ignore it and lose out on the reward. A simple example is keeping your room clean; rather than gain the benefit of a clean room by taking the extra 5 seconds to hang up a shirt, we avoid the brainwork. But whereas the benefit we ignore with penny offers is usually small (how significant can a benefit that costs a penny truly be?), the benefit we ignore with micropayments of time is usually large. Why? Because invested time accumulates, and greater time invested leads to greater commitment.

Lets switch to a more personal example. I use a digital djay program, a simple setup of turntables and mixer, but a lot of great functions and flexibility. In the middle of the interface is a little record button that will record your set. I've always ignored this button thinking 'I'm just practicing, I'll record something polished'. Unsurprisingly, I never recorded. But, when I decided to take the extra millisecond to always press record at the beginning of each set, I began to enjoy my hobby much more. I amassed a library of recordings which I frequently listen to. But more importantly, I've become more involved in my hobby-I can review what worked, what didn't, and learn from that. Small action, big reward.

Here's another example, this time with a slightly higher investment cost. When I started practicing yoga at home I had a low awareness of how much time I was in a posture and, a breath or two after I started to tire, would usually exit the position. Though feeling pleased do be doing yoga at home, I didn't feel much progress. Finally, I invested about an hour to create an audio recording of my yoga practice with each posture timed, and an audio cue to signal leaving the pose. In effect, I traded control for standardization. This has been most beneficial decision in my yoga practice. Investing the hour every other month or so (to update it) gives me a far richer and engaging home practice than I ever had before.

These micropayments of time shouldn't be substantial extra work. Beginning an exercise routine in order to get healthier is not an example here, its a substantial reogranization of time priorities; deciding to record your workout routine to ensure progress or adding 1 minute of jump rope before your cardio is. In the long run we notice these micropayments of time no more than we notice the payment of a penny. But unlike the penny, where the benefit largely goes unnoticed, when we speak of micropayments of time, the benefit is great, because it accumulates. We see benefits in the form of greater commitment, faster progress towards our goal, and less follow up work.