It’s 1:47am.Â
Yet, sleep is the least of my worries. Instead, I’m wading through the endless list of items currently flooding my Amazon cart. The number “25” hovers at the bottom of my screen.
Hmm… let’s see.
First up. A clip-on book light. A small, portable, LED light that attaches to a book and makes for a perfectly pleasant reading experience at night. My fingers practically itch to hit “Buy Now”. I glance at my desk, where my dusty lamp glows in irritation.
Next up: a book. Okay, maybe two… or five – I swear they’re all part of a series. Because what if I finish the first one and don’t have the sequel?! Forgive me, but Goodreads is ruthless with its email notifications. “New thriller out now!” “Top 5 books to get you out of a reading slump!” “Stay tuned for February’s most anticipated rom-coms!”
I mean, give the girl some space to breathe.Â
As someone who checks their email before opening WhatsApp first thing in the morning, I’m Goodreads’ most loyal consumer. Do I have unread books on my shelf? Yes. Do I need more? No. Does that stop me from adding a dozen more to my cart? Absolutely not.Â
My seemingly endless TBR (to-be-read) made me realise that my biggest weakness isn’t a lack of books to read, but the delusional belief that I desperately need another one. Before I know it, I’ve checked out all five books from my cart, proud to have saved a measly â‚ą200 from a festive Diwali sale. My Paytm screen turns green, followed by a red-exclamation-marked mail confirming the UPI transaction.
A very Merry Christmas to me, I guess.
Further down, I spot a niacinamide face serum I hastily added after watching a rather impressive (and slightly suspicious) “before-and-after” video on social media. A few complimentary skincare items lined up below quietly wait for their cart exit.Â
The skincare industry lures customers with the elusive promise of “glass skin”. The market is so saturated to a point where I’ve started to think that all differentiated products are homogeneous. Tiny bottles are slapped with a â‚ą2,000 price tag – a ridiculous amount for a product that could be finished in a single use. Their justification for expensive pricing? A label containing the word “Korean” on a product where its predominant constituents are Indian ayurvedic herbs.Â
And yet, I’m seconds away from burning a hole through my pocket.Â
Why?
Psychologists define “impulse buying” as a sudden urge to purchase something with little to no prior planning. Consumer researcher Dennis Rook described this phenomenon in 1987, as a spontaneous, powerful desire to buy something right now.
The concept of impulse buying challenges a foundational assumption in the field of economics: rationality. I can practically imagine John Stuart Mill turning in his grave right now.
Daniel Kahneman’s work in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow offers one way to understand this behaviour. System 1 is fast, automatic, and emotional. System 2, on the other hand, is slow, deliberate, and logical. An impulse buy is basically System 1 stealthily reaching for the checkout button ahead of System 2’s wake-up time.Â
System 1’s caffeinated fuel? Clever marketing.
“Neuro-marketing” is a method that uses neuroscience and psychology to study how consumers respond to marketing stimuli, from advertisements and colours to music and product placement. Researchers use tools such as fMRI and EEG to study brain activity, heart rate monitors and skin conductance to measure emotional response, and eye-tracking technology to observe what truly grabs our attention when we walk into a store.Â
So, when you’ve finally ticked off all items on your mom’s grocery list and reached the billing counter, only to grab a chocolate bar you never intended to buy, just know that its placement wasn’t accidental.
Our brains also play a role in how we perceive rewards and costs when making purchasing decisions. The nucleus accumbens is involved in reward processing and anticipating, while the insula has been associated with the unpleasant feelings associated with paying, particularly while purchasing an expensive item. This discomfort is often termed as “the pain of paying”. Payment methods can amplify this impulsive effect. Pay with cash, and the loss feels tangible. But scanning a code or swiping a card can make spending feel less immediate. Add “buy now, pay later”, and the pain of spending nearly disappears.
Summer break arrives when your favourite clothing brand announces a flash sale. That cute top you wanted so badly drops down to half its original price. The discount, coupled with a ticking countdown, creates a sense of psychological urgency. Before you know it, you’re tracking your order every thirty minutes like an obsessive online stalker.
Finally, there’s retail therapy. Stressed at work? Feeling lonely? Or simply having a rough day? Studies suggest that shopping can offer a brief mood boost and help restore our sense of control when everything around us feels uncertain. Trust me, it’s all fun and games … until you realise you’re inching closer towards crippling debt, much like Rebecca Bloomwood in Confessions of a Shopaholic.
Perhaps the trick isn’t to stop buying things altogether but to recognise when we’re buying out of genuine need and when we’re chasing a momentary spurt of happiness. A 72-hour waiting rule, using cash or simply closing the app for a while can help suppress these impulsive decisions.
Although, to be fair, that LED book light is an absolute necessity. My bank account, unfortunately, has opinions of its own.