Millions of people play the lottery every year, hoping to win big. A 20-something builds her following on YouTube, hoping she will become the next big influencer. Young boys practice their basketball skills on local courts, hoping to become the next LeBron James or Steph Curry. Everywhere, it seems, people are dreaming of a big win of some kind and doing their best to break through and have it happen.
They are all courting disaster. Big wins are hard to manage. The ranks of rock stars and professional sports heroes are littered with casualties—people for whom the surge of fame and fortune were a crushing blow. Lost friends, ruined marriages, drug use, mental health problems: all of these are the common symptoms of enduring a Series of Fortunate Events.
Wait, what? you say. I thought having good things happen was… well, good. Until recently, economists would unanimously have agreed with you. But behavioral economists have learned a thing or two—mostly from psychologists—about what happens when people get a big, sudden boost to their fortunes. In other words, what happens when they “level up.”
The way a person reacts to what happens to them depends on their reference point. This is the state of living that the person thinks of as normal. The reason winning the lottery—or, if you’re a rock musician, having your first hit record—is so thrilling is that it’s a big improvement relative to what you’re used to and, consequently, what you think of as normal.
But a funny thing happens after a big win. Eventually, you adjust. Behavioral economists and psychologists call this hedonic adaptation. Sometime after a person has won $1 million in the lottery, the thrill of having that much money fades, as the person’s reference point shifts up. What to someone else would still seem like staggeringly good fortune may literally seem ordinary to the person who won just months ago. Riches can still get this individual excited, but it will take a lot more money than the initial million—maybe $10 or $20 million—to do that. After which there would be adjustment and adaptation and, again, the thrill would be mostly gone.
The same thing can happen when a person falls in love. Meeting the right person at the right time is a shock, a surprise. Relative to one's reference point, it's a home run. This explains why one feels giddy and silly. But, as everyone knows, that euphoric feeling doesn't last. Hedonic adaptation sets in, and one's level of happiness can tend to revert mostly to normal.
This may sound a bit sad, but not disastrous. Where disaster sets in is if a person becomes dependent on the thrill—if life becomes all about the big win.
When a person seeks fame or riches or love for the hit of excitement it provides, they become a sort of addict. Each new thrill only satisfies for a while, is followed by a letdown, and then the compelling desire for a new thrill. This cycle explains why corporate raiders live for their next deal, why some moguls are not satisfied even when they become billionaires, and some people go through unhealthy cycles of courting, breakup, and moving on to the next relationship. Some may maintain these patterns indefinitely, each time expecting the next big win to be their salvation. Others recognize that the satisfaction never lasts and become disillusioned and depressed, turning to drug use and other self-destructive behaviors.
But what is life about, if not leveling up? Oh, so much more.
The rock band Rush recorded a song called "Limelight" which had the following chorus: "Living in the limelight, the universal dream, for those who wish to seem. Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation, get on with the fascination, the real relation, the underlying theme." For me, this describes the essence of the problem, and its solution. A life that is about "seeming" is about the trappings. Leveling up is its focus. A person who lives their life this way will never be happy, except while in the brief glow of a recent win.
But what about "those who wish to be"? Those people are living their life not for the trappings, but for the goings on. They "get on with the fascination," which says to me they are there for the ride, whatever may come of it. Most importantly, the thrill for them in each moment is the thrill of concrete experience, not the abstract thrill of what the experience represents on some scorecard. The rock musician who loves writing and performing songs, not just the fame that might come with it. The lovers who enjoy each other’s company, not just the idea of being in love. The individual who works a lifetime at work that they enjoy and seeks to earn their living that way, rather than by way of the lottery or through some quick scheme.
These represent the real relation, the underlying theme.
To quote (or maybe misquote) Anne Lamott: "being enough is going to have to be an inside job."