It usually begins with a perfectly reasonable question: “What do you want to do tonight?” “Anything,” your partner says. “Okay. What?” “I don’t know. You decide.” “How about going out?” “Sure. Where?” “I don’t know. What do you feel like?” “Anything is fine.”
This conversation can continue for surprisingly long considering that both people began it wanting exactly the same thing: to do something together. Eventually, somebody gets tired of deciding, the television comes on, food gets ordered and the evening resolves itself.
The problem wasn’t that there was nothing to do. There were probably hundreds of things you could have done. That may have been precisely the problem.
Having more choices doesn’t always make choosing easier
We tend to assume that choice is good. If a restaurant has three things on the menu, we feel restricted. If Netflix has thousands of things to watch, surely we’ll find something we both want to see.
Except anyone who has spent 25 minutes scrolling through Netflix knows how that sometimes works out. The more possibilities we have, the more decisions we have to make. Should we watch a film or a series? Something funny or serious? Something new or something we already know we like? Is two hours too long? Do we really want subtitles tonight?
Choosing what to do together can work the same way. “Let’s do something tonight” sounds simple until you realise that “something” includes virtually every activity two human beings could conceivably do. Go for dinner. Cook. See a film. Meet friends. Play a game. Go for a drive. Attend an event. Have a drink. Stay home. Go somewhere new. Do something romantic. Do something intimate.
You don’t have a shortage of options. You have an editing problem.
“Anything” is a terrible answer
We say “anything” because we think we’re being accommodating. “What do you want to eat?” “Anything.” “What do you want to watch?” “Anything.” “Where do you want to go?” “Anywhere.”
What we usually mean is: I’m happy to do something you’ll enjoy. Which is nice. Unfortunately, what the other person hears is: You are now responsible for generating the options, evaluating them and making the final decision.
“Anything” doesn’t remove a decision. It transfers it. This becomes particularly amusing when both people are trying to be considerate. Neither wants to impose their preference on the other, so both refuse to express one. Two people who are genuinely trying to make each other happy somehow end up mildly irritated.
The next time your partner asks what you want to do, try banning the word “anything”. You may discover you have opinions after all.
We make decisions all day
There’s another reason this gets harder in the evening. By the time two people are sitting together deciding what to do, they may already have spent an entire day making decisions.
Work is full of them. Which email needs answering first? Should I take this meeting? What should we do about this problem? Do I approve this? What do I tell this person? When will I finish this?
Then there are the smaller decisions scattered through the day. What to wear. What to eat. Whether to exercise. What to buy. Which route to take. Whether to reply now or later.
At 8 PM, “What should we do tonight?” might technically be a pleasant question. It is still another question requiring an answer. This is why the easiest option has such an enormous advantage. The sofa doesn’t require a reservation. Your phone doesn’t ask you to agree on anything. Television doesn’t require much preparation.
Doing the usual thing often wins not because it is what you most wanted to do, but because it required the fewest decisions.
One person becoming the planner isn’t the solution
Many couples eventually solve this problem by allowing one person to become the relationship’s unofficial entertainment department.
They find the restaurants. They suggest the films. They discover events. They make the reservations. They decide where to go on Saturday.
This works remarkably well for the person who doesn’t have to do it.
For the planner, something that is supposed to be enjoyable can gradually become another responsibility. Worse, every suggestion now carries the risk of being rejected. Planning things together shouldn’t become another household chore assigned permanently to whoever happens to be better at it.
Constraints can make things more fun
Imagine I ask you where in the world you would like to go on holiday.
There are nearly 200 countries to consider. Now imagine I say: Sri Lanka, Vietnam, Japan, Greece or South Africa. Pick one.
You may not choose any of them in the end, but you probably have an immediate reaction. Japan sounds exciting. You’ve already been to Greece. South Africa is too far. Vietnam could be interesting. The constraint gives your brain something to work with.
Restaurants understand this. That’s why tasting menus don’t ask you to choose between 70 dishes. Games have rules because unlimited possibilities wouldn’t necessarily make them more enjoyable. Even creativity often becomes easier when there are boundaries.
Relationships can benefit from the same principle. Instead of asking, “What should we do tonight?”, try asking, “Do you want to go out or stay home?”
Now you’ve eliminated half the universe.
Stay home. “Something relaxing or something fun?” Fun. “Cook something, play something or do something together?” Suddenly you’re getting somewhere.
Five choices might be better than fifty
This is part of the thinking behind Spurkle.
We could give couples a giant searchable database containing hundreds of activities. It would certainly look impressive. There would always be something to do. It would also give you another catalogue to browse.
So instead, Spurkle gives you three to five Sparks. That’s it. You might dislike the first one immediately. Good. One decision made. The second isn’t right for tonight. The third makes your partner laugh. The fourth is interesting. The fifth is something neither of you would have thought of doing.
Now the conversation isn’t “What should we do?” It’s “Three or five?” That’s a much easier question. And because the five change, tomorrow you get to make a different choice.
Make choosing part of the fun
There is no reason the process of deciding what to do has to feel like administration. Flip a coin. Take turns choosing. Write ideas on pieces of paper and pull one from a bowl. Give yourselves three options and force yourselves to pick one. Let one person choose tonight and the other choose tomorrow.
Most importantly, allow imperfect choices. Not every restaurant will be brilliant. Not every activity will be fun. Occasionally you’ll choose something, hate it and abandon it after ten minutes. That’s fine.
A mediocre evening you chose together can still produce a better story than another hour spent trying to identify the perfect option. The goal isn’t to make the best possible choice. It’s to get past choosing and start doing.
Maybe you don’t need more ideas
The next time you and your partner find yourselves saying there’s nothing to do, consider whether that’s actually true. There are probably plenty of things to do. Perhaps you’re both tired. Perhaps neither of you wants to take responsibility for deciding. Perhaps you’ve considered so many possibilities that staying exactly where you are has become the most attractive one.
In that case, don’t search for another hundred ideas.
Reduce the options. Give yourselves five. Reject four if you want. Then look at the one that’s left and ask the only question that really matters: “Shall we?”
Spurkle gives you three to five Sparks every day – Casual or Intimate, Now or Later. Because sometimes the easiest way to do something together is to stop trying to decide between everything.
