A matter of preference
Ever wondered why we make certain choices in, say, music, food or colour? We may have unconscious biases.
WHEN I received my copy of You May Also Like: Taste In An Age Of Endless Choice, I was happy to find that I’d been given the one with the orange book cover, rather than the light blue.
Why do I prefer the orange cover over the blue? I’m not sure, I just do. And thus, the premise is set for Tom Vanderbilt’s fascinating book that looks into why we have particular tastes and preferences.
According to one idea, it’s all down to the “ecological valance theory” which explains that we like the colours of the things we most like.
Another big indicator of taste lies in the music we enjoy. With this comes a strange correlation, suggesting that Pink Floyd and Country music is most enjoyed by Republicans, whereas Democrats will happily tune in to rap music, and metal music attracts people of all political persuasions.
Food also features heavily whenever we think of our tastes. Vanderbilt points to his wife’s strong dislike for eggplant ( wise woman), but reiterates the point that, if pressed, we would struggle to come up with a sufficient explanation for such aversions. He ponders whether evolutionary forces might be at play when it comes to our dislike of certain foods. “Eggplant, after all, is part of the nightshade family,” he notes, adding that its leaves can be toxic, given a high enough dosage. Then again, “tomatoes and potatoes are in the same Solanum genus, and my wife happily eats those.”
We all like to believe that our tastes are unique – the suggestion that we are easily influenced can be irritating for those who see themselves as bohemian purveyors of counter- trends. But, as Vanderbilt’s interviews with sources at Netflix and the now- defunct Hunch. com reveal, our tastes are nothing but a “space on a graph” – a cold assertion that appears at once to rob us of our perceived uniqueness.
How many of us, for example, are persuad- ed to avoid buying books with bad reviews on Amazon? Well, we might argue, other people might be so easily influenced, but not me. On the contrary, Vanderbilt touches on a number of studies and their findings that suggest our tastes are very much shaped, at least in part, by general consensus.
Take restaurant reviews on Yelp, for example. A Harvard economist found that, in Seattle, a one- star increase in a restaurant’s rating led to a revenue growth of 9%. This kind of immediate feedback has led establishments, such as restaurants and hotels, to up their game and provide better quality of service and customer care.
On the other hand, online reviews provide us with too much, and often conflicting, information. A couple on their honeymoon might describe a hotel as “Perfect!” although their bias will be predicated on the anticipation of a memorable adventure. Conversely, a tourist might rate the same hotel as “Ghastly!” due to a look of apparent indifference received from an in- house waiter while serving the food.
Vanderbilt’s fascinating foray into the world of tastes and why they exist makes for a book that’s well worth reading – after all, how often do we stop to consider why we prefer red over blue, or BMW over Mercedes? It’s in this book that we get at least some ideas why we like what we like.
Tastes are peculiar phenomena, and the question of why we possess certain tastes will likely never be answered in full. Nevertheless, Vanderbilt’s latest work is a light, informative read, and one that’s thoroughly enjoyable and highly recommended.