Getting off the Hedonistic Treadmill

It happens imperceptibly, but as reliably as the change of seasons. Your dream car becomes just your car. The TV you invited everyone over to watch becomes your same old TV. Even the house you knew would be perfect forever eventually has you browsing open houses on a Saturday afternoon. It's called the hedonistic treadmill.  It's our tendency to revert back to a natural, baseline of happiness despite the new joys we encounter. 

The same pattern shows up in our careers. The excitement of joining a firm that felt like the envy of everyone around you eventually settles into familiar frustrations. A dream job becomes “just my job,” and for many attorneys, that shift triggers a repeating cycle of finding a new firm, enjoying an initial thrill, a slow decline of joy and satisfaction, and a renewed search. It feels inevitable, but it isn’t. There’s a way to step off the treadmill. 

Even though we understand this logically, emotionally, it always feels disorienting when we experience it. The new thing that brought us joy should obviously continue to do so. When it doesn’t, we can start doubting ourselves. “I thought this firm was great when I started, but now I see all the flaws. Maybe I misjudged. Maybe I should leave. Maybe I should leave the practice of law entirely.” We blame the external, firm culture, workload, personalities, without recognizing that the real driver of discontent is internal. 

People are notoriously bad at predicting what will make them happy. We know what feels good in the moment, but that’s not the same as long‑term satisfaction. While no one can be exuberantly happy all the time, we can protect ourselves from the constant search for bigger, better, and more gratifying. No amount of money, prestige, or firm‑sponsored trips to Tahiti will continue delivering the same level of satisfaction over time, because none of those things address the fundamental need that actually sustains us: the need to be useful, to have purpose. 

This is where the foundation is laid. Before you start looking for a new role, or convincing yourself that your current one is flawed beyond repair, spend time identifying your purpose. Some call it your “why.” In my interview prep sessions, I frame it as: How do you make the world better by doing what you do? Admittedly, not as pithy as “your why,” I’ll admit, but it still gets to the heart of the matter. 

For a litigator, purpose might be giving people a fair shot in a system that often feels stacked against them. For a corporate associate, it might be helping founders turn ideas into real companies. For a trusts and estates attorney, it might be giving families clarity and stability during vulnerable moments. Maybe it's just providing a better life for your kids than you had.  Purpose doesn’t have to be grand, it just has to be true and connect with you emotionally. 

If you’re unsure where to start, ask yourself: 

• What part of your work feels meaningful even when it’s hard? 

• What problems do you feel proud to help solve? 

• Who benefits from your work in ways you sometimes forget? 

Once you can name what gives you purpose, it becomes the foundation for everything else. Your firm, your practice, your pro bono work, even the house and the car.  It all starts feeding back into that core purpose, and the treadmill slows to a crawl. 

Eventually, even the coolest Lotus becomes just a car. Returning to our baseline happiness is inevitable, but before you jump to another firm, make sure you’re evaluating your internal motivations and the “why” behind them. When you understand the foundation you’re trying to build on, you can create long‑term satisfaction that no shiny new object, or shiny new firm, can shake.