WHEN SIN LOOKS LIKE VIRTUE
There’s one last licensing trap we must learn to avoid, and unlike all of the traps we’ve seen so far, it
has nothing to do with our own virtuous behavior. It has to do with our deep desire to convince
ourselves that what we want isn’t so bad. As you’ll see, we are far too eager to give the object of our
temptation its own moral credentials, licensing us to indulge guilt-free.
THE HALO EFFECT
Imagine you are in the grocery store, picking up a few things for the weekend. You round the corner
from the cereal aisle into the frozen foods section, where you encounter a most unusual in-store
promotion. A veritable angel—of the holy variety, not some blonde teen-dream fantasy—holds a tray
of food samples. The golden glow of her halo illuminates a plate of mini hot dogs. Harp music seems
to be coming out of her pores. “Try one,” the angel entreats you. You look at the plump appetizers, and
thoughts of saturated fat, nitrites, and cholesterol run through your head. You know these hot dogs are
not good for your diet, but surely, an angel wouldn’t steer you wrong? Maybe just one bite . . .
Congratulations: You have just met, and fallen for, the halo effect. This form of moral licensing
looks for any reason to say “yes” to temptation. When we want permission to indulge, we’ll take any
hint of virtue as a justification to give in.
To see this in action, you don’t have to look any further than dinner. Studies show that people who
order a main dish advertised as a healthy choice also order more indulgent drinks, side dishes, and
desserts. Although their goal is to be healthy, they end up consuming more calories than people who
order a regular entrée. Dieting researchers call this a
health halo
. We feel so good about ordering
something healthy, our next indulgence doesn’t feel sinful at all.
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We also see virtuous choices as
negating indulgences—literally, in some cases. Researchers have found that if you pair a
cheeseburger with a green salad, diners estimate that the meal has fewer calories than the same
cheeseburger served by itself. This makes no sense, unless you believe that putting lettuce on a plate
can magically make calories disappear. (Though judging by what people order at the movies and
restaurants, I’d say many of us believe diet sodas have a similar calorie-negating effect.)
What’s really happening is that the salad is clouding the diners’ judgment. It’s giving them a
feeling
that the meal they’re eating is virtuous. Those lettuce leaves come with a health halo that casts a glow
on the burger, making it more likely that they will underestimate the health “cost” of the meal. Dieters
—who in theory should be the most likely to know the calorie counts of foods—were the most
susceptible to the halo effect, taking 100 calories off their estimates when a salad was added.
Halo effects pop up all over the place, whenever something indulgent is paired with something
more virtuous. For example, studies also show that shoppers who buy chocolate for a charity will
reward their good deed by eating more chocolate. The altruistic donation shines its halo glow on the
candy bars, and the do-gooders enjoy them, guilt-free. Bargain-hunters who get a good deal may feel
so virtuous for saving money that they buy more than they intended, and gift-givers may feel so
generous that they decide they, too, deserve a gift. (This may explain why women’s shoes and clothing
make up the largest percentage of early holiday shopping.)
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