When was the last time something you used to love started to feel ordinary—or even boring? That once-exciting hobby, that favourite snack, that thrilling purchase: after a while, the spark fades. This isn’t a personal failing; it’s built into us. Nature has programmed humans to chase “more” because novelty and variety helped our ancestors survive. Psychologists call this hedonic adaptation: we quickly get used to pleasures, and they stop feeling pleasurable.
Yet, paradoxically, we also voluntarily sign up for things that are hard, uncomfortable, or even painful—training for a marathon, learning a difficult skill, sitting through a tough but important conversation. At first glance, this seems to contradict the basic human drive to seek pleasure and avoid pain (the classic hedonic principle). How can both be true?
The answer is that we actually live two intertwined lives at once:
We constantly shift between them depending on our current emotional state.
A more nuanced idea, called the hedonic flexibility principle (developed by Nobel laureate Herbert Simon and later expanded by researchers), explains this beautifully: our mood steers what we’re willing to do.
In short: negative moods push us toward pleasure; positive moods free us to pursue meaning.
A helpful metaphor is to think of your mood as a bank account:
Of course, none of this works if the underlying systems are broken. Sleep, nutrition, movement, and real human connection are the basic infrastructure that keeps the whole mood economy running.
So next time you reach for another slice of cake—or force yourself to the gym—pause and ask:
What does my mood account need right now? A small deposit of pleasure, or a wise investment in meaning?
The art of a good life isn’t choosing one forever; it’s knowing which one to feed, moment by moment.