The hedonic treadmill: the new car smell fades

The garland on the dashboard dried out in a week. Nobody had the heart to take it off.

Meena's family in Nagpur bought their first car after twelve years on a scooter. There was a pooja at the showroom, mithai for the neighbours, and her father drove twice around the block just to be seen. For two months, every trip felt like an outing.

Then came an ordinary Tuesday. The same jam on the same road, now with an EMI of ₹14,000 on top. At dinner, her brother was already saying that the next car should be bigger.

What the model is

The hedonic treadmill is getting used to a good thing until it feels ordinary, and then wanting the next one. The psychologists Philip Brickman and Donald Campbell described it. "Hedonic" only means to do with pleasure. The treadmill part is that you keep walking and stay in the same place.

There is nothing wrong with Meena's family here. Getting used to things is how anyone copes with change. The model only helps you see it before you pay for the next round.

The example, step by step

Meena decides to look at her brother's idea the way she would look at a bill.

First, she asks what the bigger car is meant to give. Her brother's answer is honest: it is the feeling of that first month.

Second, she looks at the last time. The first car stayed new for about two months, and that is her own family's number, not a rule. She writes it down.

Third, she splits the car into two columns. In one, what only felt new: the smell, the garland, the neighbours looking. In the other, what is useful every single day: dadi can sit in without climbing onto a scooter seat, and the whole family fits for the trip to her aunt's in Katol.

Now the question has changed. It is no longer "will a bigger car make us happy?" It is "is the daily use worth the extra EMI, once the newness has gone?" The newness is the part that fades. The daily use is the part that stays.

Meena also notices something small. The Sunday drive to Katol is still a warm memory long after the car stopped feeling new. One example proves nothing, so she decides to test that idea on her own list rather than believe it.

Where it stops

The model does not say joy is fake, and it does not say you should never buy anything. A car that suits a family does its job every day. It is also a tool for your own list, not a stick to use on someone else's happiness. If a relative is delighted with a new phone, that delight is theirs to enjoy.

One thing to try today

Tonight, write down the last three things you badly wanted. Next to each, write how long it felt new: a week, a month, a season. Then write the thing you want right now and ask which column of Meena's it belongs in, the newness or the daily use.

This is a way to think, not financial, medical or legal advice.

Each Sunday: one mental model and one real decision to try it on. Browse the library at /models.