“Yeah yeah, I’ll drink more water.” (and other lies we tell ourselves)
The quiet “yeah yeah” we all recognize
“Yeah yeah, I’ll drink more water.”
I caught myself thinking it again while sitting at the physiotherapist, nodding along as if I was fully on board, as if this time I would actually follow through, while a small, very honest voice in my head was already going, we both know this isn’t going to last. And the strange part is that I didn’t resist that voice at all, because it felt familiar - almost predictable - like I’ve run this exact script so many times before that it has quietly become part of the routine.
And once you notice it, you start seeing that same pattern everywhere. It shows up when you walk out of a shop with something you had very clearly decided not to buy anymore, something that doesn’t really fit with how you want to consume and yet in that exact moment it somehow feels like the most logical, effortless choice. It shows up at the dentist, where you genuinely start with discipline and the best intentions, only to see that habit dissolve a few days later as soon as life speeds up again. Not because you changed your mind, but because something else quietly took over.
The gap we keep underestimating
What strikes me is that this has very little to do with not knowing better or not caring enough or lacking motivation. We know. We agree. We even want to do better. And still… we don’t. There is a gap between intention and behavior, and it’s not a small gap you fix with a bit more awareness or a slightly stronger argument. It’s a structural gap, and we keep underestimating how powerful it is.
And yet, we continue to approach it as if people simply need to be convinced one more time, as if the world is one extra argument away from change, while in reality most “better” choices still come with just enough friction to lose from the default option in a busy day. They ask for a bit more effort, a bit more attention, a bit more discipline — and that’s exactly where things break down, because humans don’t default to what’s right, we default to what’s easy.
A wondrful case
Which is why I find it so interesting when something does work.
A simple example: I recently switched to laundry strips from Powr (formerly Brauzz ), and what struck me wasn’t so much the product itself, but how incredibly easy they made the switch. Their website is clear, focused and to the point, without overwhelming you with heavy messaging or trying to convince you with endless arguments. The branding is fresh and accessible, not moralizing, not preachy - just practical.
And then there’s the real difference: I subscribed. Which means that every two or three months, my laundry strips simply arrive. I don’t have to think about it, I don’t have to remember to buy detergent, I don’t stand in a store comparing options and I definitely don’t fall back into old habits because it’s “just easier.”
It’s handled.
And that’s exactly the point.
My life became easier, not harder. The “better” option didn’t ask more from me : it removed decisions, reduced friction and quietly became the default. The fact that it also reduces plastic use and contributes to something bigger is almost secondary in the daily experience, even though that’s exactly why I chose it in the first place.
That’s what real change looks like. Not when people are convinced. But when behavior shifts because the system around them makes it the obvious thing to do.
The real design challenge
And maybe that’s where the real opportunity sits today, especially for those of us building new models, materials and ways of working. Not in better messaging, not in stronger beliefs, but in designing in such a way that the right choice becomes the path of least resistance. Because the moment something feels effortless, it stops being a decision and starts becoming behavior.
Curious to hear your take: where do you catch yourself saying “yeah yeah”… and doing the exact opposite anyway? And even more interesting — where have you seen friction removed so well that the right choice becomes the easy one? I’d love to learn from those. You can comment below.
Image credits: Photo by Sara Ben Aziza on Unsplash
