I only recently discovered a term for a phenomenon I’ve experienced many times, one we’ve all experienced—hedonic adaptation.
I’ve known about hedonism, which is living to maximize pleasure, and I’m acquainted with several hedonists who have devoted their lives to pleasure, but hedonic adaptation is new for me.
Hedonic adaptation is the process by which we tend to return to our baseline level of happiness/unhappiness despite the occurrence of major life events or changes, both positive and negative. You fall in love and you’re in heaven, but over time you return to earth. Or you get fired from your job and sink into despair, but eventually dig your way out of the hole and stabilize.
We all have an emotional and mental state baseline, and are largely genetically wired at that baseline. Our setpoint isn’t usually an emotionally neutral state. It might be giddy or grouchy, euphoric or existentialist, but whatever our natural baseline, it’s our home, and we tend to return to it.
Hedonic adaptation is also known as the hedonic treadmill, because even though positive or negative events may move us emotionally, we ultimately end up staying in the same place. Some say hedonic adaptation limits our level of happiness, and therefore we should work to mitigate it using the usual modern tools at our disposal: savoring experiences, being grateful and mindful, and diversifying our portfolio of what brings us pleasure.
But hedonic adaptation has benefits for us. The two big ones for me are resilience and realism. Knowing that we can bounce back from setbacks and negative events helps foster resilience. We’ve been punched in the face before and gotten up; we know we’ll be all right.
Equally, knowing that the thrill of fulfilling a dream or the boost we get from good news won’t endure allows us to be realistic about what hopes and goals we set for ourselves.
I’m a perfect example of this. There was a time when my dream was to have a novel published. If I could just have that happen somehow . . . It happened. I was thrilled. It felt transformative. And then it didn’t. I returned to my baseline and I wanted more. After having this experience, I better understood the source of something I started saying: “I wouldn’t be satisfied if I won the Pulitzer Prize.”
Or rather, I would be satisfied—for a while. Then, as I hedonically adapted, I would return to my baseline and begin to crave something else.
I try not to be this way anymore and instead focus on appreciating smaller, simpler positive moments, such as a walk in the woods on a beautiful day, or finishing a poem instead of having to write an entire novel. I’m also not as devastated by the bad things: the illnesses, the setbacks, the rejections, because chances are I will adapt.
Although genetics influences our setpoint of happiness, the baseline isn’t an unmovable object. Experiencing ongoing tragedy can negatively move the line, while persistent pursuit of altruistic goals can raise our baseline.
In any case, pleasure and pain, wins and losses, are all part of the deal. There’s no reason to get all emotional about it. Just do the hedonic adaptation.
