by Kate
There's this awesome-sounding concept out there called the "hedonic treadmill" or "hedonic adaptation." It's the idea that whenever something positive happens, we return to our own happiness baseline in a relatively short time. Essentially, we get used to things. We adapt. When bad things happen this can be a very good thing because it helps us re-connect and move on. But when good things happen sometimes the "high" doesn't last as long as we think it should. In the world of personal finance, hedonic adaptation is commonly used to describe the phenomenon of getting an item we've Always Wanted, only to feel bored or uninterested in it after a short time (often observable in kids and on Christmas morning).
Hedonic adaptation says that many of those "treat yourself" moments are not actually making you that much happier in the long-run, and instead you are just getting used to a different level of comfort and eventually come to believe that you "deserve it." It's totally fine (and healthy!) to enjoy nice things and some comforts are arguably necessary (I'll fight you about my nice mattress and fancy laptop), but there is a difference between giving yourself every whim you can imagine and crafting a life that fulfills you spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically. We need to balance stuff acquisition with our time, money, and energy and the idea of hedonic adaptation reminds me to distinguish between "Things I Want" and "Things That Will Make My Life Better" when I'm thinking of making a purchase.
We've written before about how Alex and I naturally tend toward convenience and comfort, and often wish that these could be one of our life values. But instead we have chosen to value our time, environmental impact, and savings over many purchases and (despite my very ardent desires) we have not hired a personal chef, bought a golf cart to drive around town, or built a completely enclosed walkway through the backyard to the shed. On a more realistic note, I buy all my clothes used (which takes more time), we drive a used car without power locks or windows (a surprisingly annoying characteristic), and we mostly shop at Aldi (the greatest store ever created by man) even though it's farther away than Kroger. These "inconveniences" more closely align with our values.
Another big example of this for me is vacation conveniences. I will never buy a hot tub, boat, vacation home, downhill skis, segway, pool, or convertible. I have happily paid to enjoy these things on many vacations and loved every minute of them (although the skiing was a little scary). I definitely hope to pay to use these things again. But when I think about owning these items that have brought me such joy at one time, all I can see is a bright neon sign blinking "MAINTENANCE" and "TIME SUCK" over my head. This is, of course, different for everyone. I know lots of people who own these items and find that they add great value to their lives. For them, the "job" of ownership is one they are happily willing to take on, but for me the effort I would have to put into taking care of any of these items completely negates the enjoyment of using them. And this is really the key to what I call "selective convenience" (a clear and clever phrase that has honestly not caught on as much as I'd hoped).
I learned to love this style of drying rack in Germany, as it holds a full load of clothes (and the sock/underwear hanger looks like an octopus!!). We purchased both racks at IKEA and it’s lasted us for years. (Also, you can see the Roomba peeking out over there on the left.
Acquiring every comfort or convenience we can imagine will not make us happier, but a reasonable number of carefully selected conveniences DEFINITELY will. And the power of selective convenience comes from being able to look at your life critically and then strategically employ the benefits of convenience. For example, in our life we hang dry all our clothes but we own (and are delighted with) our robot vacuum.
And….fully loaded. Dress shirts and sweaters typically get put on plastic hangers and hung in the doorway to dry.
We hang dry all our clothes, sheets, towels, linens etc. I inadvertently boarded the hang-dry bandwagon years ago when we spend six weeks in Germany for a study abroad class. Our dorm didn’t have dryers but did have a broad selection of drying racks that you took to your room to dry your clothes. Over the weeks I came to see that hang drying clothes was not the behemoth chore I’d always imagined and that it was totally doable in my life. When we got home I just kept up with the hang drying. I like saving the electricity and the money by not using our dryer and I also like that my clothes don't get faded as quickly. The negatives (rougher towels and the time it takes to hang up and dry) don't bother me very much so this has been a habit that we've kept up for years. Yes, it's definitely inconvenient. But the money and energy savings make it worth it because the negatives aren't a big deal to us.
On the other hand, I freaking love our Roomba. We just push a button and zips around chomping on dust mites and making adorable whirring noises. It's so easy to use and does a remarkably good job cleaning (even along edges and in corners). It saves us a ton of time and a fair amount of resentment (I hate vacuuming and think the vacuum is too heavy so I do a poor job of it, but Alex takes forever to do it and only has time in the evenings - cue all the annoyance). Our house is cleaner because we don't have to "make time" to vacuum and instead vacuum any time we want. [A side note: Never buy a new Roomba - they are a bajillion dollars. There is a very active used and refurbished Roomba scene on Ebay and you can get a one generation old Roomba for a fraction of the brand new price.] It became very clear very fast that this was a labor-saving device that was incredibly useful in our household. Yes, this is definitely a huge convenience measure - but the negatives of this particular chore were significant enough that a $150 Roomba was money well spent.
The Power of Selective Convenience:
Helps you follow your values - A mindset of total abandon to convenience or comfort will likely not help you keep your values at the forefront of your life (even if one of your values IS convenience or comfort). Every value comes with a trade-off and selective convenience helps you weigh the benefits and challenges of each choice and make a compromise that fits your values more closely.
Helps you understand your own desires - There is a lot of freedom in learning to distinguish between your own personal "shiny objects" that are mostly just a distraction and items that truly benefit your life.
Helps you be intentional about both time and money - Time and money are so much more finite than our desires to encapsulate our lives in convenience and comfort (or, is that just me?). Selective convenience is just one more tool that can help us make deliberate decisions. And one of the great things about it is that it often becomes clear that you should do something to make life more convenient. For a long time I thought I was being lazy by wanting a Roomba, but after I considered it more carefully it turned out to be a great idea that has made me happier and more productive in other ways.
Helps you keep special things special - I am a great believer in "specialness." Some things bring so much joy purely because they don't happen every day. Using the special plate on your birthday, going to the special restaurant on your anniversary, planning for that once-in-a-lifetime vacation, renting a pontoon boat once a year, Christmas Eve rituals of cookies and presents and new pajamas and church. Cultivating special moments in your life matters. And choosing to keep some things or some experiences special is important. If nothing is special, hedonic adaptation has completely taken over and we lose a lot of joy in our lives.
Getting everything we want whenever we want won't make us happier in the long run (remember all those kids in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?). But being intentional about the comforts and conveniences we bring in to our lives can help us avoid hedonic adapation and build lives of value and purpose (with delightful moments of convenience!).
Which conveniences do you fully embrace and which ones have you given up for a better life?
The power of the small amount.