Half a Chicken Costs How Much?

The psychology of overpaying, and how to feel better about it

After a day of ambling around ancient ruins, all appears right in the world. You congratulate yourself on your impeccable taste in tourist destinations, and retire to the hotel restaurant. There, your warm glow of satisfaction, if not doused, is at least lightly dampened, by the realization you are about to be flagrantly overcharged for food and drink.

The problem is that we are fundamentally wired to enjoy getting a good deal. So paying between 2-to-4 times the regular price for 0.5-to-1 times the regular portion, hurts.

Now, if we were to ask an economist (a questionable step at the best of times), they would cheerfully explain that this is all supply and demand, and in a theoretical sense, 100% fair. There aren't many shops or restaurants at the top of mountains, so they get to charge more for the same products, to balance out the inconvenience of having to live at 3,000 feet and wait for stingy tourists.

I understand this argument on paper, but it doesn't do much for me. If I buy a bottle of water at triple the 'real' price, I feel I've been mugged – end of. Even when I note that the average proprietor of any of these tourist shops doesn't exactly seem to have got rich in the process, it still appears unfair to pay more.

Strangely, I don't feel this way about the entry fees to tourist attractions. It seems eminently reasonable that visitors should pay something to cover cleaning and maintenance, and also put money into the local community. In fact, such entry fees often seem low.

I think you can see where this is going – why not charge a higher price for entry to tourist attractions, and distribute the difference to the hotels, restaurants, and shops, which can then charge normal prices for their goods? That way, the amount we spend wouldn't change, but we would feel we are supporting our local heritage, instead of getting ripped off.

Of course, in reality this would be complicated, difficult to share out fairly (shouldn't the popular restaurant get better rewarded?), and generally not worth the hassle.

So, in the absence of a sweeping restructuring of the tourist economy, I suggest that the next time you see the very large bill for your very ordinary dinner, try to imagine what it should cost, and then mentally mark the sizable difference as a benevolent contribution you are making to the upkeep of historical architecture.

Even though it isn't.