Coffee and smoking are the last great addictions

Especially because I grew up in the Bay Area where vegan and vegetarianism is a serious form of activism, I often receive a lot of unmerited praise regarding my dietary "choice." The reason I say unmerited is because it's actually a dietary restriction. I was born vegetarian and have never voluntarily eaten meat. This means I don't see it as something I've given up, but something I'm missing -- and I don't know what I'm missing. Giving up something that you love, on the other hand, takes true conviction and commitment to the cause, and deserves high praise.

Two weeks ago in a talk on self-control, Dan Ariely commented, "We have an infinite capacity to care about our own egos." No matter which way we spin it, in the end, everyone is working towards whatever makes him or her happiest. In my opinion, there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with this notion. The problem arises when people's undying love for themselves becomes a detriment to their social contribution, for example, the ability to empathize with others.

A couple weeks ago while getting lunch with some friends at work, the group suddenly started attacking one particular member of the group who happens to smoke. Citing the usual health hazards and enjoying the fuzzy "I'm a good friend because I'm saving you" mentality, the conversation became an ambush. One thing led to another, and my competitive nature drove me to make a statement that, for three days, I deeply regretted. I bet I could give up caffeine for longer than you could give up cigarettes I said with what in hindsight, was haughty overconfidence. In my mind, I only drank coffee for the rich flavor, not for any energy-inducing benefits, let alone an addiction. My friend, equally competitive, took the challenge in a heartbeat (via pinky swear, obviously).

My first day off caffeine was a nightmare. I was constantly complaining, my body was fatigued, my brain was slow. Running on the treadmill that evening felt like wading through molasses. At one point, I was lying on the floor of the gym, immobile. When I talked to my friend that evening, he told me how "giving up" smoking had already made him more productive. He squashed cravings by keeping his mind incredibly focused on his work. He took less breaks. He was actually trying; I was passing off my lack of willpower in the guise of some charity case that wasn't for me, but to help a friend.

The second day was miserable for both of us. He caught me yawning at dinner. I caught him standing outside at a party, breathing in the second-hand smoke from his friends. We were irritable and not ourselves. I felt like some alternate version of myself that should never again be socialized.

When I woke up on the third day, I ended the bet. As much as I care about my friend, I realized I was not doing this "for him." And I was proving to myself just how weak I am when it comes to this substance my body has grown to crave. I give up. I don't need to give up caffeine. I don't want to give up caffeine. My caffeine intake is not harming anyone. And coffee has so many health benefits anyway. 

Illusory superiority is a cognitive bias that causes people to overestimate their own positive qualities and underestimate the negative in relation to others. Somewhat related to an inability to empathize, illusory superiority prevents us from accepting the truths of our own shortcomings but allows us to magnify them in others. It was so easy for us to sit around the table blaming our friend for his "bad habit" without even thinking for a second about our own laundry lists. We, humans in general, are just so quick to judge. My music teacher once told me that every time you point a finger at someone, three fingers are pointing back at you. Go ahead and do the gesture right now; you'll see what I mean.

The coffee abandonment experience was a pretty frightening personal realization. My "love" for coffee is quite frankly an addiction, just like addiction society associates with cigarettes and other drugs. My body has grown to depend on two cups a day. It's up to me to decide if and what I would want to do about that, but in the end, it's inappropriate for me to deny. I also recognized just how difficult it is to wake up one morning and decide to stop or start some behavior. In the end, no matter how adventurous, we are all creatures of habit, and arbitrarily cutting ourselves off may sometimes be less effective than slowly but surely working towards the goal. Kind of like how you can't just run a marathon on a whim. You need to train.

My friend is now back to smoking, and I back to consuming significant amounts of coffee. But we're both more understanding of the power and control these habits have over us, as well as the habits of others on them. And maybe that's enough to instigate some future improvement. Until then, I'll continue to improve my latte art.

NB. My friend and I were hard-pressed to find a meaningful consequence for the loser and we didn't end up deciding on anything. I'll use this post as the consequence. I lost. He won. There, I said it publicly.