Why Knowing Too Much About Cake Makes It Taste Worse
the marginal benefit of ignorance
Imagine you’re eating a sweet, creamy cake. Butter Bliss. But then someone chimes in: “I made that with three slabs of butter and a pint of sugar.” The cake hasn’t changed. Same taste. Same price. Same calories. Yet, suddenly your experience is assaulted by knowledge. Why? Because value isn’t just in the thing— it’s also the knowledge you hold of it.
In standard economics, consumer utility comes from consuming the goods and services that satisfy preferences. It’s not enough here. The consumer doesn’t just enjoy the cake, they also enjoy not knowing what’s in it. Your iPhone doesn’t just give utility in its use, but also by you not knowing how it was made. In this case, ignorance is a consumption good. Not just the product, but the veil around it, increases utility.
Negative information imposes psychological costs. Once I find out how much butter is in the cake, my enjoyment is reduced — even if I eat the same calories. The disutility of guilt, anxiety, or moral concern hits me. So the veil of ignorance protects this guilt-free share of consumption.
Sometimes you know, deep inside, there’s something not right. And yet you manage to overcome the feeling. It might be cognitive dissonance. Consumers hold conflicting values (e.g. “I want to eat yummy cake” vs “I want to be healthy”). Not knowing kind of solves this by avoiding any confrontation. I deprive the rational mind of information, and my appetite can be fed without guilt.
Consumer also crave more than comfort food, but comfortable fictions. Not knowing the waste behind a car, or the working conditions behind a $3 t-shirts, allows you to convince yourself you’re a stellar bloke and enjoy your product. It’s emotional hedging: “don’t tell me, I want to keep liking this.” Marketers absolutely know this. They won’t just hide the ugly, but actually redirect your attention. Apple won’t show you the cobalt mine; but it’ll tell you how an iPad taught an old lady to moonwalk.
They know that if you knew the full cost of something — environmental, social, or health costs— your perceived “net benefit” would shrink. Marketers know this, and you demand it — whether you know it or not. So they don’t just protect your ignorance, they direct your empathy elsewhere.
It’s not all without reason either. In behavioural economics, there’s talk of rational inattention: it’s not worth knowing everything. The cost of gaining the information (emotional or cognitive) outweighs its benefit. So the consumer prefers ignorance. In a rational way.
What’s the marginal benefit of knowing what’s inside of that Greggs Devon Doughtnut? Not much. And maybe — deep inside your soul — you really don’t want to know as you take that delicious bite.