Why My Worthless Greens Powder is Worth Every Penny
The main reason I’m not terrified of an impending existential threat posed by AI is because of how badly the facebook algorithm’s recommended purchases miss the mark for me. Something in my recent browsing history has it utterly convinced that I’m jonesing for toddler swim lessons, sweat-wicking sockless shoes, and joggers. So many joggers.
However, every now and again old Zuck knows what he’s doing and to his great delight, I finally broke down and bought a month’s worth of a “superfood greens powder”.
The general consensus in the scientific literature is that multivitamins and greens powders are close to useless: “The results of large-scale randomized trials show that, for the majority of the population, there is no overall benefit from taking multivitamin/mineral supplements.”
The particular powder I tried also had the added bonus of a severely inflated price, which many reviewers chose to highlight with the same evocative image: “You end up paying for dosages that your body can’t fully process, which results in expensive, neon yellow urine.”
To round out the illustration of my experience, here is one of the kinder takes on its flavor: “…tastes like a slightly-sweet, diluted vanilla chalk…it has some grit to it, even after it’s mixed.”
So why in the world am I callously ignoring my Outlook calendar reminder to cancel my monthly subscription before the second package ships? Because of an often-overlooked truth about habits: they shape your identity. James Clear talks about this in his masterpiece, Atomic Habits (which was the best selling book on Amazon in 2021 for a reason). He says “the more you repeat a behavior, the more you reinforce the identity associated with that behavior” and he encourages you to ask yourself “does this habit cast a vote for or against my desired identity?”
Whether or not swallowing 12 ounces of liquid grass-clippings every morning improves any of my biomarkers one iota misses the point entirely. Adding this to my daily routine creates recurring proof that I’m the type of person who cares about what he puts in his body and is committed to improving his diet. Last quote from Clear: “The real reason habits matter is because they can change your beliefs about yourself.”
Recognizing the power of this principle expands the list of helpful habits for you to develop. Personal growth is a process and one way or another, you have to learn to love it. This is one of the reasons why process metrics are far superior to outcome metrics.
There are new habits you should foster not because of the results they generate but because of their power to reinforce the identity you are trying to build. If no identity-supporting habits immediately come to mind, use this framework to generate ideas:
Step #1. Choose a goal:
I wish I was more _____________________
Step #2. Come up with a long list of examples that concretely describe what that would look like:
A ___(fill in from Step #1)____ person often _____(specific action)_______
Here is what that looks like for my greens powder adventure:
Step #1. I wish I ate a higher quality diet
Step #2. Someone who eats a high-quality diet:
Eats only whole foods
Doesn’t eat processed foods
Doesn’t eat junk food
Eats a shit-ton of vegetables
Drinks dark green juice/liquids
Says “farm to table” 10-15 times/week
Buys the fancy eggs
Rarely has dessert
Eats all the colors of the rainbow
Eats low carb
Savors rather than scarfs
Stops eating before they’re stuffed
Many things on this list are total non-starters for me but the greens powder felt like it was worth trying. And it turns out it’s just painful enough that it registers as a meaningful sacrifice while remaining sustainable.
This feels conspiracy theory-ish, but I would be willing to bet that the company could make it taste better without increasing their production costs, but they consciously decided not to. If it tasted like an iced vanilla latte, it would no longer feel like a daily demonstration of my choice to prioritize my health through inflicting a small amount of discomfort. The same concept applies to the price. If it was 25 cents per serving, it would be too easy to disregard as meaningless and not count it as proof that I’m taking my commitment seriously.
In the past, I would have viewed this as craven exploitation of their customers (and maybe that’s part of it) but now I see it as something different: What I’m really paying for isn’t 154 mg of “digestive enzyme & super mushroom complex”. I’m paying for a concrete daily reminder that I’m willing to put in the work to make progress.
So not only will I continue to drive the price of my pee into the stratosphere, I will continually look for other opportunities to reinforce my identity as someone who stays energetic, healthy, and strong as I age. Come to think of it, I’ve seen a lot of super fit people rocking joggers lately…