As your friendly neighbourhood provocateur, I offer( I know it is unsolicited) you a seditious piece of wisdom that feels like a slap and a caress at the same time. A gem from Liad Shababo that can shatter your chains:
“Not Wanting Something Is As Good As Having It.”
Read that again. Slowly. Let its absurd, almost offensive, simplicity wash over you.
It’s not about resignation. This isn’t the pathetic whimper of the defeated. This is the roaring silence of the truly empowered. This is the art of Strategic Indifference.
Think of it as the ultimate cheat code. While everyone else is stuck on the grinding treadmill of acquisition, you’ve just discovered the “Stop” button. And in that cessation, you find a possession more valuable than any object: your freedom.
This concept has been around for thousands of years. Supposedly, when Socrates visited a mall, he joyously declared to his friends, “Look at all these things I don’t need!” The truly rich are those who want nothing more than what they already have.
Liad Shababo dropped a philosophical grenade when he said, “Not wanting something is as good as having it.” And before you dismiss this as Silicon Valley zen-washing or another Instagram quote to screenshot and forget, let me tell you—this isn’t about settling. This is about sovereignty.
Wanting has become an epidemic. We’re drowning in desire. Not the passionate, life-affirming kind. The manufactured, algorithm-fed, influencer-endorsed kind that turns us into perpetual toddlers in a toy store, grabbing at everything, satisfied by nothing.
Here are a few wake-up calls for good measure.
The Japanese Konbini Paradox– Japan has 56,000 convenience stores. FIFTY-SIX THOUSAND. You’re never more than a few minutes from anything you could possibly want. Yet Japan also pioneered the concept of “Danshari“—the art of refusing, disposing, and separating from material wants. The country with the most access chose the path of least desire. They figured out what Silicon Valley’s optimization obsessives still haven’t: abundance and freedom are not the same thing.
The Mumbai Middle-Class Miracle– Middle-class Mumbai families in 600-square-foot apartments often report higher life satisfaction than upper-class Americans in 3,000-square-foot homes drowning in mortgage debt and unused rooms. Why? They’ve unconsciously optimized the denominator. Their wants haven’t inflated with every Instagram reel and every Shark Tank episode. They’re winning the game by not playing it.
The Swedish “Lagom” Advantage- Sweden didn’t become one of the world’s happiest countries by wanting more. They invented “Lagom“—not too little, not too much, just right. They’re not Instagramming their moderate-sized homes. They’re not flexing. They’re free. Their contentment doesn’t depend on the next acquisition. It’s baked into the culture of sufficiency.
Capitalism runs on manufactured discontent. Every ad is a surgical strike on your satisfaction. You were fine with your phone until they showed you the new one. You were comfortable with your body until they showed you the “after” photo. You were at peace until they showed you what you’re supposedly missing.
The game is rigged. The only winning move? Stop playing.
The Indian Wedding Industrial Complex- We’ve taken the beautiful ritual of marriage and turned it into a ₹3-lakh-crore anxiety festival. Destination weddings. Choreographed entries. Theme parties. Instagram-worthy mandaps. And after the 30th function, everyone’s exhausted, broke, and the marriage hasn’t even started.
Meanwhile, we all know of couples who got married at the local temple, spent ₹50,000, and invested the rest in their future. They don’t have the drone video. They also don’t have the debt, the family drama, and the hollow feeling of performing happiness for strangers.
Not wanting the spectacle gave them the substance.
The Minimalist Revolution Nobody’s Talking About– In South Korea, a growing movement of young people are practicing “Sohwakhaeng“—small but certain happiness. They’re opting out of the punishing work culture, the luxury aspirations, the status competitions. They’re choosing tiny apartments, simple meals, quiet weekends. The establishment calls them lazy. They call themselves liberated.
They’re not failing to want. They’re succeeding at not wanting.
Before we imported hustle culture and grind mentality from Silicon Valley, we had our own formula. The Bhagavad Gita’s concept of “Nishkama Karma“—action without attachment to results. Not apathy. Not laziness. Strategic detachment from outcomes.
Do the work. Skip the wanting.
The late Ratan Tata drove a modest car for decades while building an empire. The late Dr APJ Abdul Kalam lived in a simple home with fewer possessions than a college student. They weren’t pretending to be humble. They genuinely didn’t want the trappings. And that not-wanting became their superpower.
We seem to have forgotten the ancient Indian wisdom. And have become deeply invested in this ‘ Republic of Not Enough ‘ where we never have the time or the flexibility to look up from our ‘ Ledger Of Want ‘.
No, I am not trying to be crude or accusatory here. We are all beggars( well most of us). We sit at the roadside of life, holding out our mental bowl, pleading for the alms of a better job, a bigger house, a faster car, a more impressive title, more likes, more love, more, more, more. The traffic of desire never stops, and we, friends, are perpetually in a state of want.
It’s exhausting, isn’t it? This relentless pursuit. This gnawing feeling that we are just one purchase, one promotion, one holiday away from… what, exactly? Happiness? Contentment? Peace? No clue!
For years, the world wondered about the “Happiness Index” topping nations like Denmark and Norway. It’s not their wealth alone; it’s their culture of Lagom (just the right amount) and their social safety net. The profound peace that comes from not wanting for basic security—healthcare, education, a dignified life—is a form of national wealth that makes individual greed seem vulgar. By now, this has become The (Open) Scandinavian Secret.
This one quote , from Liad Shababo, is a silent grenade: “Not wanting something is as good as having it.”
Pause here. Let that detonate slowly.
Because we live in a world where we measure our worth by the things that fill our cart, our feed, and our calendar. We hoard stuff, opportunities, followers, love—anything that screams “more.” And then we wake up, weighed down by abundance, gasping for the oxygen of less.
And in a world perpetually zooming into its own hyperventilated wishlist — desire, demand, dopamine, repeat — this one line stated above from Liad Shababo walks in barefoot and turns off the power switch.
Desire becomes debt. Disguised as delight.
The modern world has turned wanting into wisdom’s opposite. Apple’s new launch pulls us like a tide, Zara tells us “last few pieces left,” and Instagram taunts us with the edited lives of the perpetually happy.
But take a deep breath and consider this paradox: the moment you no longer want that upgrade, that applause, that validation—you’re suddenly richer than every billionaire on the Forbes list.
In Bhutan, they measure happiness, not GDP. In Japan, monks clean temple floors like they’re polishing the soul. In India, a wandering sadhu needs no bank, no house, no hashtag—and somehow looks freer than those of us queuing for the next big thing.
The future might just belong to a new species: Not the Haves; Not the Have-Nots but the Had-Enoughs.
Those who’ve realized the dopamine trap and decided to unsubscribe from the endless scroll.
They’re designing brands that don’t seduce but serve, creating art that questions instead of pleases, and building companies that chase meaning, not market share. Wanting less isn’t resignation—it’s rebellion.
We might live in a world of Haves and Have-Nots. That said, maybe it’s time to join the Had-Enoughs. Those who know that the real flex isn’t owning more—but wanting less.
“The richest are not those with everything, but those who want nothing.”
When you no longer crave it, you’ve already conquered it. And that, right there, is the newest form of wealth: Quiet abundance.
Take a look at Japan’s Muji philosophy. Muji built a billion-dollar brand on the idea of not wanting more.
No labels. No noise. No screaming brand signatures.
Just purity of form.
They sell less to give people more.
.
A brand built on the virtue of subtraction.
And consumers? They bow.
So maybe the real milestone isn’t to “secure the bag,” but to set it down. The freedom lies not in gripping tighter, but in letting go like a monk at peace under a Bodhi tree—or a leader who finally realizes he doesn’t need all the noise to make a point.
In closing:
What if all the things we think we want are actually the things slowing us down?
What if the ultimate luxury is not ownership, but un-ownership?
What if your emptiness, handled right, is actually your most potent form of abundance?
It sounds counterintuitive. Slippery. Seductive.
But then again, that’s exactly how all truths look when they’re trying to wake you up.