” An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit.” — Pliny the Younger
The Problem Isn’t What You Want. It’s What Happens After You Get It.
There’s a strange, almost comical moment in every human life:
You chase something with the hunger of a pilgrim. You pray for it, plan around it, pitch it to yourself repeatedly. You finally get it.
And then— something inside you quietly whispers… “This? Really?”
Welcome to what is defined as hedonic adaptation.
It happens in boardrooms, in relationships, in branding campaigns, in entrepreneurship, in careers, in consumption, in spirituality.
It’s a universal glitch.
Pliny the Younger spotted it 1,900 years ago. We still haven’t updated the firmware.
The Pursuit High: A Pleasant Addiction We Don’t Admit To
Psychologists call it “reward prediction error.”
Brands call it “the next launch.”
Entrepreneurs call it “once this milestone comes…”
Couples call it “we need a vacation.”
Politicians call it “my next term.”
But everywhere, the script is the same: Anticipation > Acquisition.
And the world is full of beautifully bizarre stories that prove it.
The Twisted Math Of Wanting
Here’s what your brain does, and it’s diabolical:
During pursuit: Dopamine floods your system. Every product video, every saved link, every mental calculation of “I could afford this if I skip lunch for three months”—it’s all rocket fuel for your pleasure centers.
Upon acquisition: Dopamine hits pause. “Cool. Next?”
Thirty days later: What sound system?
Hedonic adaptation describes how people naturally return to stable happiness levels after positive or negative life events, making initial excitement fade as newness wears off.
The scientists have a term for it: the Hedonic Treadmill. You run faster, you stay in the same place, and somehow you’re also paying for premium gym membership.
The corporate world figured this out decades ago. Why do you think there will be an iPhone 47? Because the iPhone 46 stopped sparking joy approximately eleven minutes after unboxing.
The Rolling Stones’ Lost Guitar
Keith Richards of the fabled Rolling Stones once lost his cherished guitar in a hotel. The hunt? Frenzied, desperate. The music, the magic imagined with that guitar? Boundless. When it was finally recovered, Richards said he barely noticed. The pursuit had sculpted a myth, while possession was mundane.
The Psychology Behind The Elusive Charm
Science backs this phenomenon: The “reward prediction error” theory says we thrive on anticipation. The joy spikes as we get closer to a goal, then crashes upon achievement as the mind recalibrates.
Our minds are wired less to possess and more to pursue.
The Dopamine Deception: Our Brain On The Hunt
Neuroscience has a name for our Roman friend Pliny’s observation: the Dopamine Loop. Contrary to popular belief, dopamine isn’t the pleasure chemical; it’s the anticipation chemical. It’s the biological kick you get from the hunt, the search, the potential of a reward.
The moment you click “buy,” your brain has already celebrated. The possession is just the administrative cleanup. The charm wasn’t in the object; it was in the movie your mind directed, scored, and produced about the object. The reality, no matter how shiny, can never compete with the blockbuster playing in your head.
This isn’t just about consumerism. This is the operating system of our desires—for careers, relationships, status.
The Tulip That Bankrupted A Nation( Netherlands, 1637)
Imagine a flower bulb so coveted, it was worth a grand Amsterdam canal house. During Tulip Mania, a single Semper Augustus tulip bulb could fetch that price. People sold their businesses, land, and life savings for a piece of paper—a futures contract—for a bulb still in the ground. The pursuit was a national bloodsport. Then, the bubble burst. The bulbs, now physically possessed, were just… bulbs. The charm wasn’t in the flower; it was in the delirious, collective pursuit of unimaginable wealth.
The Wake-Up Call: You Are Addicted to Your Own Movie
So, what’s the reality check? Your life is likely a series of completed pursuits, leaving a trail of mildly disappointing possessions and achievements. The promotion came with bureaucracy. The dream car with EMI stress. The perfect partner with… well, reality.
The modern world is a factory designed to exploit this very loop. Swipe, refresh, buy, upgrade. It’s a hamster wheel of desire, and you’re the hamster, thinking you’re on a cosmic journey.
The charm dissipates not because the object is flawed, but because the pursuit—the state of wanting—is where you are most creatively, passionately, and vibrantly engaged.
The $40,000 Omelette Nobody Wanted – New York, USA
A Manhattan restaurant once introduced a $40,000 omelette (yes, 4-zero-thousand) featuring lobster and rare caviar.
People lined up to see it, photograph it, post about it.
The restaurant became a sensation.
But the sales? A few units a year.
It turned out people wanted the idea of experiencing luxury far more than the ownership of eating it. Charm in pursuit.Disinterest in possession.
The Case of the Japanese “Rent-a-Family” Industry
Japan’s booming “rent-a-family” business (you can literally hire an actor to play a parent, partner or friend for a day) is built entirely on Pliny’s insight:
People often find fantasy companionship more emotionally satisfying than real-life relationships, which come with expectations, unpredictability, and complexity. Pursuit is emotionally safe. Possession is emotionally costly.
Why the Mind Loves the Chase More Than the Catch
1. Possession introduces responsibility.
Desire has no maintenance cost. Ownership does.
2. Pursuit is identity-enhancing.
We are what we strive for—not always what we own.
3. The brain releases dopamine during anticipation, not arrival.
This is why apps ping you during the waiting phase.
This is why sales funnels are engineered around suspense.
This is why every trailer is more exciting than the movie.
4. The novelty arc collapses instantly upon possession.
This is why toddlers toss new toys aside. And why adults chase new phones with toddler-level enthusiasm.
A Reality Check for Brands, Leaders & Humans
If Pliny’s law is true (and it clearly is),
then the question isn’t:
“How do we help people want our product?”
But:
“How do we help them continue wanting it after they own it?”
Most brands, leaders, institutions, couples, creators, and careers fail right here.
Retention dies not because value drops—
but because charm drops.
Charm is the ultimate renewable resource.
But only if you design for it.
Some potential thought sparks
Design for the ‘Second Seduction.’
The first purchase wins a customer.
The second desire keeps them.
Create rituals, surprises, personal wins after ownership.
Keep a bit of mystery alive.
The worst thing a brand or leader can do:
become predictable.
Shift from “What we offer” to “What they continue to experience.”
Charm is experiential, not transactional.
Celebrate progress, not possession.
Make the journey feel like the reward.
Gamify growth, not ownership.
Build “pursuit loops” into the product or relationship.
Micro-chases.
Mini milestones.
Unfolding chapters.
Humans crave movement more than medals.
We chase.
We catch.
We yawn.
Then we chase again— because deep inside, we’re wired not for victory,
but for velocity.
Pliny merely held up the mirror. We’re the ones who keep looking away.
So maybe the trick is simple:
Don’t fall in love with what you want.
Fall in love with what you do with it after you get it.
That’s where charm lives.
And where most of the world never looks.