Online shopping has completely changed how we buy things. That’s obvious. What’s less obvious is how it’s changed how we think about buying things—and not always for the better.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my own online shopping habits, the psychology behind them, and how to make better decisions in an environment designed to make you spend.
The Friction Problem
Remember when buying something required effort? You had to go to a store, find parking, locate the item, wait in line, hand over cash or a card to an actual person.
Every step was friction. Every step was an opportunity to reconsider.
Now it’s one click. Or zero clicks if you’ve enabled auto-replenishment. The friction that used to protect us from impulse decisions has been engineered away.
This isn’t an accident. Companies invest millions in removing friction because friction costs them sales. Every additional step between “I want this” and “I own this” is a chance for you to change your mind.
The Endless Scroll of Options
In a physical store, selection is limited by shelf space. Online, selection is essentially infinite. Search for “white t-shirt” and you’ll get 10,000+ results.
This sounds like a good thing—more options means better choices, right? But research consistently shows that too many options leads to decision paralysis, anxiety, and ultimately less satisfaction with whatever you end up choosing.
It’s called the paradox of choice. When you can compare your purchase to thousands of alternatives, there’s always the nagging feeling that you could have done better.
The Review Industrial Complex
Reviews were supposed to help us make better decisions. Real people sharing real experiences with products. Crowdsourced wisdom.
Instead, we got a system that’s been thoroughly gamed. Fake reviews are everywhere. Sellers offer discounts or free products in exchange for positive reviews. Review farms churn out fake feedback at industrial scale.
Even legitimate reviews are skewed. People with strong opinions—very positive or very negative—are more likely to leave reviews than people with moderate experiences. The average review doesn’t represent the average experience.
I still read reviews, but I’ve learned to be skeptical. I look for specific details that couldn’t easily be faked. I pay attention to patterns across multiple reviews. I ignore reviews that read like marketing copy.
The Algorithm Knows
The recommendations you see aren’t random. They’re generated by sophisticated algorithms that track your browsing history, purchase history, and behavior patterns to predict what you’re most likely to buy.
Sometimes this is helpful. I’ve discovered products I genuinely needed because an algorithm suggested them.
But it can also create echo chambers of consumption. The algorithm shows you more of what you’ve already shown interest in, which can turn a passing curiosity into a full-blown spending category.
I searched for a waffle maker once. For months afterward, every site I visited showed me waffle makers, waffle accessories, waffle recipes, and things that weren’t waffles but were apparently purchased by waffle enthusiasts.
The Urgency Machine
“Only 3 left in stock!” “Sale ends in 2 hours!” “15 other people are looking at this item!”
These notifications are designed to trigger loss aversion—the psychological tendency to fear missing out more than we value getting something.
Some of these urgency signals are real. Some are completely fabricated. Even when they’re real, they’re presented in ways designed to make you act without thinking.
My rule now: any time I feel rushed to make a purchase, that’s a signal to slow down, not speed up. Legitimate deals will still be there tomorrow. And if they’re not, there will be other deals.
The Return Trap
Easy returns are supposed to reduce the risk of online shopping. Don’t like it? Just send it back!
In practice, easy returns enable a purchase-first-think-later mentality. Why deliberate carefully when you can just buy it and decide later?
The problem is most people don’t actually return things. The friction of boxing items up, printing labels, and making it to a drop-off location is enough to stop us. So we keep things we don’t really want rather than deal with the hassle.
I’ve started treating easy returns as a backup plan, not a decision-making strategy. Buy it only if you’re reasonably confident you’ll keep it.
Shopping as Entertainment
Here’s the thing I’ve had to admit to myself: sometimes I browse online stores with no intention of buying anything. It’s just… entertainment. Something to do when I’m bored or stressed.
This is exactly what retailers want. The more time you spend browsing, the more likely you are to eventually buy something. Browsing builds familiarity and desire.
I’ve tried to be more honest with myself about what I’m doing. If I’m shopping for entertainment, I acknowledge that’s what’s happening. Sometimes I’ll browse with no payment method saved, creating friction that prevents impulse purchases while still allowing the browsing behavior.
What Actually Helps
After years of online shopping—both the good decisions and the regrettable ones—here’s what helps me shop more intentionally:
Keep a running list. Instead of buying when the impulse hits, I add things to a list and revisit it later. Amazing how many “must-haves” become “don’t cares” after a few days.
Remove saved payment methods. Having to enter your card number creates just enough friction to make you reconsider.
Unsubscribe from marketing emails. Those “flash sale” emails are designed to create urgency. Remove the trigger entirely.
Use browser extensions that hide recommendations. If the algorithm can’t suggest things, you won’t see things you didn’t know you wanted.
Set a shopping budget. Decide in advance how much you’re willing to spend on non-essential purchases each month. When it’s gone, it’s gone.
The Bigger Picture
I’m not anti-online shopping. It’s convenient, often cheaper, and provides access to products that wouldn’t be available locally.
But I think we need to be realistic about the environment we’re shopping in. Every element is designed to maximize spending, minimize deliberation, and create habits that benefit retailers more than consumers.
Being a conscious online shopper means recognizing these design patterns and building your own systems to counteract them. It’s not about willpower—it’s about designing an environment that makes good decisions easier.
The companies spend millions optimizing for their interests. It’s worth spending a little effort optimizing for yours.