“Do I have your permission to write this article?” I asked the plastic billiard ball. Pale, white letters floated to the surface: “As I see it, yes.”
When isolated, decisions such as these seem minor, but they add up to a staggering number. The average American adult makes 35,000 decisions each day. To alleviate some of the pressure, I resolved to find a new approach to decision-making — one that was quick, easy, required little to no consideration and utilized a Magic 8 Ball.
For about one week, I left as many decisions as I could up to the Magic 8 Ball, using it every time a choice popped into my head or someone presented me with an opportunity. I did, however, need to set some ground rules. I drew the line at harming myself and others, and would avoid offensive, inappropriate and illegal activity. Ruining my life completely was not my objective.
I added the conditions of attending to any previously-scheduled commitments in order to allow myself to go to class and to maintain responsibilities, and I also permitted myself to eat, sleep and maintain proper hygiene.
With the rules set, I went to bed voluntarily for the last time just before midnight April 9.
When I woke up on April 10, I quickly realized just how many decisions I make in a day. In the first two hours, I found myself asking the Magic 8 Ball if I could shower (yes), wash the dishes (yes), do laundry (no) and eat breakfast (toast was acceptable, but bananas crossed the line). Eventually, I received permission to leave home and enter a society of responsibilities, pressure, obligations, stress and endless decisions.
Now that I had the opportunity to interact with other people, I discovered that my social life was going to take some new turns. My rules prevented being offensive or inappropriate, but they did not guarantee being a good friend.
At the library, Harrison Fox Jaffe ’25 asked for advice on a written project, but I was forced to ask my new, spherical companion if that was permissible. I turned the Magic 8 Ball in my hand, and floating upwards through the murky blue liquid came the words: “Very doubtful.” I sheepishly told Harrison that, despite my desire to help, offering advice was forbidden.
By living a semi-random life with my Magic 8 Ball, which later allowed me to name it “Meb,” I lost the ability to freely act in accordance with what I believed to be natural and right.
Andrew Payne, Ph.D., professor of philosophy, said reliance on random chance stands in contrast to the moral principles of natural law theory.
“Natural law theory says that we live a good life by acting in accordance with our human nature,” Payne said. “Going random fully could be harmful to yourself, it could be harmful to other people, but it’s also not a way to act on your human nature. You’re being something other than human if you do that full on.” While the lack of agency over my own life decisions caused some stress during the first few days, I eventually found myself learning to relax and appreciate some aspects of my new, freeform lifestyle. With Meb disapproving of some of my usual hangouts, I found myself spending time in new places with a larger variety of people, which offered an appreciated change of pace.
Keith Brown, Ph.D., professor and chair of sociology and criminal justice, said freedom to choose comes with a trade off.
“You think choice is liberating, and in many ways, it’s great,” said Brown. “We like having choice, but it also creates stress, and it creates stress because we have so many decisions we have to make.”
Near the end of the week, the spirit of the experiment began to fade as fellow students learned about Meb and decided to take advantage of my 50-50 chance of agreeing to a given ridiculous proposition.
“Eddie, should we go to Belmont Plateau?” asked David Ruiz ’26 as I walked home from campus at 10 p.m. on the fifth day, planning on completing some urgent homework.
“Making unreasonable decisions is not the point of the experiment,” I stammered, looking down at Meb and seeing my command to accept the invitation rising to the surface. “You wouldn’t have asked me that if I wasn’t doing the 8 Ball thing.”
Yet, when we arrived at Fairmount Park and stood in the silence of the night, looking out at the blurry city lights on the horizon, I finally appreciated the experiences that Meb had given me during the past week. Regardless of whether the decisions posed to me were realistic or fabricated by mischievous friends, I did receive the opportunity to take my hands off the wheel and embrace the unpredictability of life.
Would I do this experiment again, though? To quote the wise words of Meb, “Don’t count on it.”
