Can owning less actually make us happier?
Walk through almost any shopping mall or scroll through social media for a few minutes, and you will receive the same message: buy more, upgrade more and never stop wanting more. A newer phone, a bigger television or a fashionable pair of trainers is often presented as the next step towards a better life. Modern economies depend on consumption, and businesses spend billions every year trying to convince people that happiness is just one purchase away.
Yet, despite having access to more products than any previous generation, many people report feeling stressed, overwhelmed and dissatisfied. This has led psychologists, economists and business leaders to ask an important question: if we have more than ever before, why don't we feel happier?
One explanation is a psychological phenomenon known as hedonic adaptation. Human beings quickly become accustomed to improvements in their lives. The excitement of buying a new phone or a new car usually disappears after a few weeks, and what once felt exciting soon becomes ordinary. As a result, many people continue chasing the next purchase, believing it will finally provide lasting satisfaction.
Advertising plays an important role in this cycle. Rather than simply informing consumers about products, modern marketing often creates emotional connections. A luxury watch is not just a way to tell the time; it represents success. A designer handbag may suggest confidence or social status. Even technology companies rarely advertise technical features alone. Instead, they sell a lifestyle, an identity or the promise of becoming a better version of yourself.
Social media has intensified this phenomenon. Every day, millions of carefully selected images present seemingly perfect homes, holidays and wardrobes. Constant exposure to these lifestyles can make people compare themselves with others and feel that what they already own is somehow inadequate. Fear of missing out—or FOMO—encourages many consumers to keep buying simply to avoid feeling left behind.
Not everyone accepts this model. Over the past decade, a growing number of people have embraced minimalism, a philosophy that encourages owning fewer possessions while focusing on what genuinely adds value to life. Contrary to popular belief, minimalism does not mean living with almost nothing or rejecting modern technology. Instead, it asks a simple question before every purchase: Does this improve my life, or am I buying it because I feel I should?
For many minimalists, the goal is not to spend less money but to spend it more intentionally. Instead of buying ten inexpensive items that quickly wear out, they might invest in one high-quality product that lasts for years. They often prioritise experiences over possessions, choosing to spend money on travel, education or time with family rather than accumulating more objects.
Interestingly, businesses have also started responding to this shift. Outdoor clothing company Patagonia encourages customers to repair their clothes instead of replacing them. Furniture manufacturers now offer refurbishment services, while many technology companies promote trade-in programmes rather than constant upgrades. These strategies suggest that sustainability and profitability do not always have to be opposites.
However, minimalism is not without criticism. Some argue that it has become another trend marketed to consumers. Expensive "minimalist" furniture, premium storage systems and luxury capsule wardrobes raise an important question: can minimalism itself become another product to sell? Others point out that reducing consumption is easier for people with stable incomes than for those who already have very little.
Perhaps the most valuable lesson of minimalism is not about owning fewer things but about making more conscious decisions. It challenges people to ask whether they are purchasing something because they truly need it or because they have been persuaded that they do.
The quiet life portrayed in Paterson reflects this idea. The main character finds meaning in routine, relationships and creativity rather than material possessions. His story reminds us that while consumer culture often measures success by what we own, a meaningful life may depend far more on how we choose to live.