Money, happiness, and the moving goalpost
- Olivier Kaeser

- Sep 24, 2025
- 6 min read
Updated: Oct 2, 2025
Why is it that every time we achieve something, it so quickly feels… not quite enough? The short answer: our brains weren’t built for ‘enough.
Part 1: why our brains are wired for more
For most of human history, life was a fragile balance against scarcity. Food supplies ran out. Winters were long. Diseases were common. The people who always wanted more simply had better chances of survival. More food stored away, more tools crafted, more safety secured.
So from an evolutionary perspective, humans simply are not designed to be content. We are designed to survive.
The moving goalpost
You can see this wiring at work in high performers today. Take Olympic athletes. For years, they dedicate their entire existence to a single goal: winning gold. And yet, research shows that many athletes experience depression and emptiness after achieving that very dream. The brain has been conditioned to believe fulfillment sits on the other side of achievement. But once the medal is in hand, the goalpost moves.
That same pattern plays out in our everyday lives. We imagine that earning a certain salary, buying a certain car, or hitting a certain savings milestone will finally make us feel "happy". Instead, as soon as we get there, a new target emerges.
The lesson? Our brains are powerful engines of pursuit, but they are terrible at recognizing the concept of “enough.”
This isn't bad per se, but if we are not capable of distinguishing between instincts that made us survive in a hostile pre-industrial world and how these might apply differently in a modern world, we miss a chance to think about "enough" with intention.
The "fame & fortune" trap
This survival instinct didn’t disappear over time, it just found new outlets. Today, it mainly expresses itself in two domains that matter most for status and security (and therefore are misunderstood by many as the most direct link to a "happy" life):
Money (fortune) and community (fame).
Money represents resources: the modern equivalent of food stores for winter.
Community represents belonging: social standing that once protected us from being cast out of the tribe and probably die a lonely and horrible death.
Both domains are open-ended. Unlike food supplies or firewood, they have no natural limits. You can always have more money. You can always have more followers.
And yet, we no longer live in caves or hunt for survival. Our basic needs (at least for many of us) are already met. The instincts remain, but the environment has changed.
In this post, I first want to focus on the first part of the equation: money.
Part 2: the science and context of money
A privilege disclaimer
Before we go further, let’s acknowledge something important. Even discussing money as a philosophical question is a privilege.
According to the World Bank, around 700 million people still live in extreme poverty, surviving on less than $2.15 a day. Billions more live paycheck-to-paycheck, where an unexpected bill can cause real hardship.
The ability to wonder, “When is enough, enough?” is not evenly distributed. It is largely reserved for those born into wealthier parts of the world, or into families that provided education, healthcare, and stability.
I had a vivid reminder of this when I lived and worked in Cambodia for six months. My Swiss passport meant that I could always go back to a comfortable life if things didn’t work out. My Cambodian colleagues did not have that option. Their circumstances weren’t a choice. And yet, I realized many people in Switzerland (despite their safety net) still felt trapped by expectations. Privilege doesn’t automatically create freedom. Sometimes it creates invisible walls and a reactive lifestyle. Again, we are trapped by primitive instincts in a world of relative abundance.
The curve of money and happiness
So what does science actually say about money and happiness?
In 2010, Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton published a landmark study. They found that happiness rises with income, but only up to about $75,000 per year (in the U.S. context).
Beyond that, higher income didn’t seem to increase day-to-day well-being.
That figure became famous: the idea that money only buys happiness until a middle-class threshold.
But more recent research has complicated the picture. In 2021, Matthew Killingsworth tracked real-time well-being from over 30,000 people and found that happiness continues to rise with income, even quite far beyond $75,000. The difference? The increases get smaller and smaller. Earning more money still helps, but the impact per extra dollar flattens out.
And it makes sense. If a billionaire spends a million, it’s just 0.1% of their wealth. For the average Swiss person, it’s like spending $678 on a flight. For someone surviving on $2.15/day, it represents 1,274 years of work.
If a million doesn't matter much for you, it represents what Economists call the law of diminishing returns. The first jump from not being able to cover rent to being financially secure transforms your life. The jump from a comfortable salary to the ultra-wealthy? Much less as you might expect.
And yet, expectations keep climbing. New research by Empower found that Gen Z defines "financial success" as an annual income of $587,797 and a net worth of $9,6M. For Millennials: $180,865 in income and $5.6M in net worth.
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The contradiction
So why the inflated expectations?
Our brains are never satisfied, it's reactive - see above
Our consumption-driven system is designed to exploit the weak spots of our brains.
Social media platforms amplify the issue: someone always has a bigger car, nicer vacation, flashier lifestyle, bigger lips or fancier dinner.
The brain registers this as lack. The goalpost shifts again.
The tragedy is that the science is there, we know what really drives sustainable well-being. But we rarely use that research to challenge our behavior.
Part 3: rethinking money, happiness and “enough”
So our brains aren’t naturally good at recognizing “enough,” but we know that we would live happier lives if we did.
Being aware of this issue, I put together a short outline with questions that help me reflect and organize my life around the money question. I hope they are helpful for you as well!
1. Financial goals: the deeper why
What is your financial goal, and why that number?
How is it connected to other life domains: meaningful work, family, friendships, health, spirituality? How much is your number pulled from comparison or fear?
Small anecdote: I left my corporate role in Switzerland also partially because I felt stuck. My growth in rank and compensation wasn’t moving fast enough. Ironically, I’ve never had a paycheck that high since. And yet, I’ve felt freer and wealthier in many other dimensions of life. It made me question: was the number itself the point, or what I believed the number represented?
2. Income: the way you earn
How intentional are you about how you generate revenue?
Some people work in jobs they don’t enjoy because the income buys time for other pursuits, which is a great approach if done with intention! Others choose a balance: meaningful work that may not maximize income but supports other life domains.
What about you? If a promotion gave you 10% more income but took 10% more of your time away from health or family, would it be worth it?
3. Expenses: the way you spend
Are you spending money in ways that truly increase your happiness?
Research consistently shows that experiences, saving, time-saving purchases, and even giving boost happiness far more than material goods.
And yet, many of our spending patterns don’t reflect this.
A personal definition of wealth
For me, the simplest definition is this:
If I don’t have to think about money most of the time, I am abundantly wealthy.
That doesn’t mean ignoring finances. It means that money serves its role as a support system, not a source of constant stress or obsession.
Working in Silicon Valley, I saw firsthand what people were willing to trade for wealth and power. On the surface: success. Beneath the surface: often imbalance, inner conflict, or exhaustion.
Living in Cambodia, I saw people with very little materially, but strong community ties and resilience.
Returning to Switzerland, I realized privilege can sometimes create new traps. Many people I knew felt committed (or even trapped) by circumstances many of my Cambodian friends would envy.
These contrasts shaped my belief: wealth is not about numbers alone, but about the degree of freedom, peace, and alignment it gives you.
In sum: let's practice more "enough"
Our brains are designed to move the goalpost. That instinct helped us survive. But in today’s world, it often leaves us chasing.
The science is clear: money matters a great deal. Especially when it covers security and stability. But its impact diminishes beyond a point. What matters most is how financial choices connect to the life you want to build: your relationships, your health, your sense of meaning.
Recognizing "enough" won’t come naturally, it requires intention. But when we practice it, money becomes a tool for freedom rather than a source of endless pursuit.
In my next post, I will explore the second half of our ancient scarcity wiring: our drive for community and fame.




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