The Diminishing Marginal Utility of Tiramisu

After three decades of avoiding sweets and desserts, I have mostly lost my taste for them. I still crave something sweet every once in a while, but either my own products or fruits satiate me.

My one remaining weakness that has never gone away is a good tiramisu. In fact, I am experiencing a strong craving for it right now, at this very writing.

What makes a good tiramisu so exceptional for me is not only my extreme liking of it, but also my avoidance of it. I have it once every few months.

When I have it, my first spoonful of it is out of this world. It is one of the most heavenly experiences of my existence.

After slowly savoring every bit of that coffee-powdered creamy marvel, I dig into it a second time. It is almost as pleasurable as the first, but just a tad less. The fifth bite is excellent. The tenth is good. If I reach my twentieth, it is not because I crave it anymore, but because there are hungry children in Biafra, which is how I was raised to think.

If I were forced to have a thirtieth bite, I would get no more pleasure from it; I would feel sick.

On the margin (i.e., with every additional increment/bite), my marginal utility (the amount of pleasure from that bite) declines a bit. After a while, my marginal utility may dip into negative territory, i.e., every additional bite would only detract from my experience, and give me a “negative” amount of pleasure, as in the hypothetical thirtieth bite.

Knowing that only the first bite gives me stratospheric joy, that is the type of bite I want to maximize. So, I eat tiramisu occasionally, and I do so in small portions. When I am done, I am still way up in the positive-utility territory.

Incidentally, this strategy minimizes the harm to my health.

My local Whole Foods no longer carries my favorite tiramisu, so I stopped at the bakery section of my local ShopRite. One of the team members packed me the tiramisu cube of my choice and applied the price label onto the container.

Under the price I noticed the list of ingredients. It was long and horrifying. I took a picture of it to post about it later, and immediately returned it to that team member. I explained why I was returning it and pointed to the long list of downright poisons that it was made of.

I have seen cleaner ones, but even the cleanest is not great. When I bring it home, I store it in my fridge, way in the back, behind everything, to hide it from myself. Out of sight, out of mind.

Every day, I take a few bites, and then force myself to return it to its hiding place. It takes me about a week to finish a portion that is 3-inch cubed, yielding me very high, prolonged utility.

If you too have such a weakness, I recommend this strategy.