Stop Wasting Money

“Without knowing the force of words, it is impossible to know more.”
–Confucius

Whenever we get together with our family for a holiday celebration, there is almost always an excess of food. While I like to grill, I admit that the cooking skills that seem to be native in most Southern families passed me by completely. So, when we participate in these shindigs, I get to eat all of the foods that I normally don’t get to eat. Instead of pacing myself, which would be the smart thing to do, I shovel as much food into my mouth as I can possibly stuff in there during the roughly 20 minute time period before my stomach actually registers that it’s full (that’s why eating slowly will help you to eat less, as it takes about 20 minutes for the “oh my goodness, I’m full” chemical signals to travel from the stomach to the brain once you start eating).

Invariably, dessert never comes before the 20 minute time period has elapsed, so a battle ensues between my Monkey Brain – what I call the limbic system, the part of the brain that we share with our simian counterparts and wants pleasure (and dessert) NOW and doesn’t care about pain (or extra pounds) later – which wants dessert and uses my watering taste buds as evidence that I supposedly need dessert, and my stomach, which is protesting that it can’t eat one bite more, even if it’s wafer thin.

“I can’t,” I protest, as well-meaning relatives parade pecan pies, custards, and cakes in front of me.

Yet, nearly every time, despite the squeals of agony from my stomach, I give in and have a piece. Or three.

Why, despite the five alarm blaze happening in my stomach, does Monkey Brain win the battle and I wind up having (and subsequently regretting) dessert? Why are the lessons of my digestive agony not ingrained into my psyche?

One word.

Can’t.

Monkey Brain likes to use the word “can’t” as the backdoor entry into “will.”

Professor Vanessa Patrick of the University of Houston and Professor Henrik Hagtvedt of Boston College studied the power of one word in resisting temptation. When you use the word “can’t,” you frame yourself as the object upon which actions occur – you’re the victim. As a result, you don’t feel empowered to say no and to stop yourself from doing what you don’t want to do. When you use “I can’t,” you’re really implicitly saying “I can’t say no.”

Instead, when facing temptations that you don’t want to give in to, use the phrase “I don’t.” That phrase represents empowerment, self-control, and a reflection of your own personal values. Saying “I don’t” stops Monkey Brain from taking over, since your values tend to trump Monkey Brain’s desires.

According to the authors, there are times when the use of “I can’t” will work. I used to use this – unwittingly – appropriately when I was a teenager. When my friends tried to get me to drink or smoke, I’d use the excuse that my father was a Georgia State Trooper and would, simply, kill me if I did that. “I can’t, because Dad will kill me.” I was invoking an external barrier to not being able to do something, which deflects the blame and enables you to say no.

So, next time you’re out shopping and see the 183″ flat screen television that Monkey Brain wants, change your response. Either say “I don’t buy 183″ flat screen televisions,” or, alternatively, “I can’t buy the 183″ flat screen television because my spouse will kill me.”

Either works. It’s all in the power of one word.

Written by Jason Hull, CFP®, is the CTO of the online, comprehensive financial planning service myFinancialAnswers. He is an Army veteran, earned a BS in Engineering from the United States Military Academy at West Point, and earned an MBA from the University of Virginia’s Darden Graduate School of Business.