I have 37 guitars.
Some people collect shoes. Some people collect watches. I have apparently opened a small guitar museum in my house.
Give me thirty seconds and I can explain why every one of them was a completely rational purchase.
Different tone. Different neck. Different room. Different mood. Different emotional emergency.
I do not have duplicates. I have tonal diversity.
My explanation is excellent
This is where my New Brain earns its salary.
In The Divided Brain, I describe the New Brain as a very capable Press Secretary. The emotional decision has already gathered momentum. Then the Press Secretary arrives with a briefcase full of facts and a polished explanation for why the decision was sensible all along.
“I need this for work.”
“It is a good investment.”
“This one is completely different from the others.”
The explanation may even be true. A guitar can have a different sound, feel or purpose. Those facts can be accurate and still have arrived after the decision began.
We hear it more easily in other people
Someone buys a luxury car and talks about the engineering. A friend upgrades a perfectly good piece of technology and explains the productivity gains. A company keeps funding a favourite project because the next phase will surely prove the original decision was right.
From the outside, the emotional attachment can be obvious. From the inside, the facts line up beautifully.
I am no exception. That is why I use the guitars in my keynote. I am not asking the audience to confess to some strange human defect. I am admitting that the Press Secretary works in my office too.
The Old Brain reacts quickly to desire, identity, reward, belonging and the way a choice feels. The New Brain can compare, explain and put that choice into words. These are two interlocking parts of one decision process, not a literal clean split in the brain.
The trouble begins when we mistake the explanation for the complete story.
Facts support choices, but they do not always start them
For marketers, this matters because a list of rational benefits may answer a question the customer has not reached yet. Before people care about specifications, they need to feel that the choice means something to them.
For leaders, it matters because a logical defence can hide an emotional commitment to an old plan, a preferred identity or the need to look consistent.
For the rest of us, it offers a useful pause before we congratulate ourselves on being perfectly rational.
Listen for the sentence that starts with “Yes, but…”
Yes, but this one is different.
Yes, but I will use it all the time.
Yes, but it was practically an investment.
That may be the Press Secretary warming up the microphone.
You do not have to fire the Press Secretary
Emotion belongs in our decisions. We could not make meaningful choices without it. The useful move is to notice the handoff between the feeling and the explanation.
What attracted me first? What am I hoping this choice will say about me? Which facts genuinely matter, and which ones arrived after the verdict?
That small pause gives the New Brain a better job. Instead of defending every choice automatically, it can help us examine the choice while there is still time to make it well.
My Press Secretary, for the record, remains employed.
Mine simply works out of a guitar case.
Paul Larche is the author of The Divided Brain (CanReads 2026 Business/Marketing Winner | BookLife Prize 2025 Semifinalist, 10/10 Score, Editor’s Pick).