Starting in college, I adopted a new life motto: ‘Try everything twice, because the first time could be a fluke.’ I knew I needed a change. My teenage self had been stubborn and overly certain about the world. That version of me liked what they liked, and that was that. But as I entered adulthood, I started to see how my rigidity was hurting me. By dismissing people, opportunities and experiences out of hand, I was missing out.

So I started giving everything chances – at least two. I applied this to different foods, workout classes, styles of dress, and even dates. I revisited a study group that I’d avoided after our first session together (because they seemed awkward and too quiet), and soon got to know them as a witty and thoughtful group of friends. Saying ‘yes’ at least twice to different social events and party scenes helped me figure out what I truly enjoy.

Over time, this practice, I suspect, even changed my personality, strengthening my tolerance for things I would’ve previously written off and giving me a newfound curiosity. As someone who writes about psychology, I came to understand this change in terms of openness to experience: a dimension of personality that includes inquisitiveness, willingness to entertain new ideas, imagination, and adventurousness. There is no doubt in my mind that changing this personality trait – which, research shows, is indeed possible to do – has made me a happier person.

But I’m also a better person now, I think. Since my first impressions now carry less weight, I’m more generous in my assessments of people, and way more likely to chat with someone I don’t know well. Teenage me would be baffled by how many more sources of joy and delight you can find if you just give things a chance to grow on you. Sometimes all it takes is a second try.

Nike has just released its first ever range of ‘mind-altering’ shoes. Its glitzy marketing campaign features a chief science officer, brain scan results and dramatic music. The shoes, which have an array of bobbles (sorry, ‘nodes’) on their soles, promise to help connect your body with your brain and tune you in to the present moment. I’m sceptical about the scientific claims, but I’m impressed by the storytelling.

In medicine, it’s well known that positive expectations about an intervention, even an inert one, can produce real physiological benefits – this is the placebo effect. As the neuroscientist and placebo expert Fabrizio Benedetti explained in his paper ‘Placebos and Movies: What Do They Have in Common?’ (2021) , it is the therapeutic rituals around a placebo treatment that magnify its effects. White coats, needles, pill colours, authoritative reassurance – all these factors can trigger associations that contribute to a patient’s belief that a treatment will work.

I’m reminded of Nathan Hill’s satirical novel Wellness (2023), in which the psychologist Elizabeth starts out investigating products that make dubious claims, but comes to realise the effects are real even if they’re purely a placebo. The key to their success is the ‘story surrounding the thing’, she observes; later, she becomes a consultant for multinational corporations, helping them to craft convincing fictions.

I suspect this is exactly what Nike has done with its new range of shoes. They’ve created an elaborate, compelling narrative tailored for an athletic audience looking to gain an edge: a ‘Mind Science Department’ staffed with neuroscientists who have developed shoes that ‘disengage the default mode network’ and engage the ‘sensorimotor network of the brain’. Is any of it real? The remarkable thing about the placebo effect – and Nike’s canny marketing exploits this fully – is that it doesn’t really matter.