The Benthamite Sweet Audit: A Utilitarian Ranking of the Town’s Loveliest Indulgences
Photo: Andy Li, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
Bentham has a philosopher’s name and a baker’s problem: too many good things, too little restraint. Jeremy Bentham, the utilitarian, gave us the hedonic calculus — a checklist for weighing pleasure. We are using it for something far more sensible: scoring the town’s sweet temptations. This is not a laboratory. It is a Saturday morning with icing sugar on your sleeve.
The rules of the game
The hedonic calculus asks seven questions. We have kept them, translated them into shop-counter English and given each one a score out of ten.
- Intensity: how hard the first bite hits.
- Duration: how long the pleasure lasts, including the memory.
- Certainty: will the counter actually have it when you arrive?
- Nearness: how easy it is to get to on a normal Bentham day.
- Fecundity: does one bite lead happily to another?
- Purity: any regret afterwards?
- Extent: does it please others, or is it gloriously selfish?
Add the scores and you get a total out of seventy. It is not science. It is a good excuse to eat with purpose.
The shortlist, scored
| Temptation | Intensity | Duration | Certainty | Nearness | Fecundity | Purity | Extent | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Warm almond croissant, bakery counter | 8 | 6 | 9 | 8 | 7 | 8 | 7 | 53 |
| Salted caramel brownie, deli counter | 9 | 7 | 8 | 7 | 6 | 9 | 6 | 52 |
| Clotted-cream fudge, market stall | 8 | 8 | 10 | 6 | 5 | 7 | 8 | 52 |
| Custard tart, bakery counter | 7 | 5 | 8 | 7 | 6 | 8 | 7 | 48 |
| Cinnamon bun, bakery counter | 8 | 5 | 7 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 7 | 48 |
What the scores actually tell you
Intensity is the first bite. Duration is the last crumb and the memory. Certainty matters more than we like to admit: a perfect pastry that sells out by ten is a rumour, not a temptation. Nearness is not lazy, either. It is the difference between a treat and an expedition.
Fecundity is the dangerous one. A brownie that makes you want a second brownie scores well on pleasure and badly on restraint. Purity is not about health food; it is about whether you argue with yourself at four in the afternoon. Extent asks whether the thing is better shared. For some indulgences, the honest answer is no.
The almond croissant wins because it does everything well. It is near the bus stop, reliably there, and pleasing without being a project. The brownie is the people’s champion: lower on extent, higher on intensity. The fudge scores a perfect ten for certainty because fudge rarely disappoints and market stalls are generous with samples. Its nearness score suffers because market day is not every day. That is the price of romance.
The arguments worth having
One person’s 53 is another’s 47. That is not a flaw in the method; it is the point. If you would rather have a custard tart than a croissant, your calculus is working. If you think a cinnamon bun should score higher on duration because it lasts until the second cup of tea, adjust accordingly. The scorecard is a conversation starter, not a verdict from on high.
A few local rules keep it honest. Score only three things in one morning; palate fatigue is real, and so is the temptation to be kind to the fourth. Score before you read anyone else’s totals. Use nearness as a tie-breaker only when you genuinely cannot decide. And do not pretend a soggy paper bag travels well. Extent is about pleasure, not optimism.
Your printable scorecard
Print this, fold it into a pocket and score as you go:
Intensity __/10
Duration __/10
Certainty __/10
Nearness __/10
Fecundity __/10
Purity __/10
Extent __/10
Total __/70
The final ranking
- Warm almond croissant — 53
- Salted caramel brownie — 52
- Clotted-cream fudge — 52
- Custard tart — 48
- Cinnamon bun — 48
Take a friend, disagree loudly and buy a second opinion. That is the most Benthamite thing you can do.
