The Hedonic Treadmill: Why Buying More Never Makes You Happier

The Hedonic Treadmill: Why Buying More Never Makes You Happier

There’s a moment many of us know well. You buy something you’ve been wanting for weeks — maybe longer — and for a short time, life feels a little brighter. There’s a lift, a spark, a sense of possibility.

And then, almost quietly, the feeling fades. Not because the object changed, but because we did. The mind adjusts, settles, moves on. Something that once felt meaningful becomes part of the background.

Psychologists call this the hedonic treadmill, and once you see it, it becomes hard to unsee.

Minimalism, in many ways, is a response to this treadmill — a way of stepping off, or at least slowing down long enough to notice what genuinely enriches life and what simply fills space.

This article tries to explore that tension: why more never seems to be enough, and why less — when chosen intentionally — often feels like a relief.


What the Hedonic Treadmill Actually Is

The hedonic treadmill is a theory suggesting that humans naturally return to a baseline level of happiness, no matter what positive or negative experiences they encounter.

  • You buy something new → happiness rises
  • You adapt to it → happiness falls back to baseline
  • You look for the next thing → the cycle repeats

Brickman & Campbell’s classic research on hedonic adaptation showed that even major life events — winning the lottery, for instance — do not permanently change happiness levels. Small purchases certainly don’t stand a chance.

In “Hedonic Adaptation to Positive and Negative Experiences,” researchers found that adaptation happens faster than we predict. We think pleasure will last longer than it does.

This is, perhaps, one reason consumer culture feels so exhausting. The promise is always happiness. The delivery is always temporary.

Minimalism steps in not to shame consumption, but to challenge its assumptions.


Why We Keep Buying Things Even When They Don’t Make Us Happier

It’s not a moral failing. It’s psychology — and clever marketing.

1. Our brains adapt quickly

The thrill of “newness” activates the reward pathway, but the brain is designed to stabilize. The object loses emotional intensity. We look for the next hit.

2. We confuse desire with happiness

Desire spikes before the purchase, not after. The wanting feels better than the having.

3. Comparison quietly shapes our choices

Materialism research, including Tim Kasser’s work in Materialistic Values and Goals, shows that when people prioritize material success, their well-being decreases — but their desire to keep up increases.

4. Culture rewards consumption

Sales, fast fashion, product launches — each one whispers that happiness is just one purchase away. We rarely pause to ask: Is this even true?

Minimalism is that pause.


Materialism and the Promise That Never Delivers

A sweeping meta-analysis titled “The relationship between materialism and personal well-being” found a consistent pattern:

Higher materialism → lower well-being across almost every measure.

Why?

Because materialistic values tell us:

  • happiness is external
  • satisfaction must be acquired
  • worth is visible

Minimalism offers another path:

  • happiness comes from alignment
  • satisfaction grows from presence and intention
  • worth is internal

And the difference between the two is more than philosophical — it’s measurable.


Hedonic Spending and the “Variety Trap”

One study, Does Variety in Hedonic Spending Improve Happiness?, explored whether buying many enjoyable things (small treats, entertainment, novelty items) increases happiness.

Surprisingly, too much variety reduced overall well-being.

Why?

Because the more fragmented our pleasures become, the less deeply we experience any of them. It’s the same with possessions — abundance dilutes meaning.

Minimalism reverses that dilution. When we own less, we feel more.


The Consumer Loop: How “More” Becomes a Lifelong Cycle

The hedonic treadmill keeps us running, but consumerism builds the track:

  1. You experience desire
  2. You buy something
  3. The thrill fades
  4. You look for the next thing
  5. Your baseline stays the same

The end result?

A room full of things and a life still waiting for clarity.

Minimalism is not about deprivation — it’s about stepping off this loop long enough to remember what genuine contentment feels like.


How Minimalism Disrupts the Hedonic Treadmill

Minimalism doesn’t eliminate desire — humans aren’t designed that way.But it changes desire.

1. It shifts attention from acquisition to appreciation

You notice what you already have.

2. It slows hedonic adaptation

Fewer possessions = deeper engagement.

3. It weakens the emotional pull of consumer culture

When you stop browsing for fun, you stop wanting for fun.

4. It strengthens identity beyond objects

Experiences, relationships, skills — these integrate into who we are.

5. It creates space for meaning

Clutter competes with clarity. A calmer environment allows deeper satisfaction to surface.

Minimalism isn’t an escape from consumption.It’s a way to move from unconscious to conscious living.


A Modern Reflection: Why This Matters Now

We live in a time of:

  • constant advertising
  • frictionless purchasing
  • social comparison at scale
  • overstimulation
  • shrinking attention
  • rising dissatisfaction

The hedonic treadmill is faster than ever.

And minimalism — practiced thoughtfully — is becoming less of a trend and more of a psychological grounding tool.

It helps people feel:

  • less overwhelmed
  • more connected
  • more intentional
  • less reactive
  • more present

Not because their homes look perfect, but because their minds feel clearer.


A Closing Thought for the Minimalist Who Wants “Enough” Again

If you’ve ever stood in a room full of things and felt strangely empty, you’re not alone. Many people reach minimalism not because they dislike objects, but because they finally recognize:

Owning more was never the path to feeling more.

The hedonic treadmill teaches us that happiness doesn’t live in acquisition. Minimalism reminds us that it often lives in attention, in presence, in choosing the few things — and the few experiences — that genuinely support who we’re becoming.

Stepping off the treadmill isn’t dramatic.It’s quieter than that. A slow return to what matters