It was the perfect companion for my studies, work and everything in between. However, a few months later, things began to shift slowly. I realised how my year-old phone looked more worn out than before.

The earbuds began sounding a little unclear, and the mouse wire started interrupting my work; maybe a wireless mouse would be a perfect fit!

Nothing in my life had changed overnight. Yet somehow, everything around that one upgrade started to feel slightly “not enough”.

Knowingly or unknowingly, I found myself trapped in the vicious spiral of the Diderot effect.

It all started with a ‘robe’

The term ‘Diderot effect’ comes from an essay written by the French philosopher Denis Diderot. He once wrote about receiving a beautiful new robe as a gift. At first, the elegant fabric spoke of pure luxury.

But soon, it made everything else around him feel incomplete: his old furniture, his study, even his sense of comfort. His status started to revolve around that one luxury item, which disturbed the harmony of everything else he had. Later, he realised how he was mindlessly driven by dissatisfaction as his main fuel.

That small observation later became what we now call the Diderot effect; the idea that one sudden premium purchase can disrupt the equilibrium of our environment or wardrobe, making everything else feel inadequate. Once something new enters your life, the old things do not look “bad”… they just start feeling slightly out of place.

At first, it feels harmless: one upgrade, one improvement, one better version of something you already had. But slowly, it starts changing the way you look at everything else around it. And that feeling is strange, because nothing is actually broken. Nothing is wrong. Yet your mind starts treating it as if something needs fixing.

Fuel for modern consumerism

One such purchase might look fine at first glance, but beneath the surface it has already caused a mild crack in our sense of satisfaction. This is just the beginning, when the Diderot effect quietly turns out to be one of the strongest engines of consumerism.

Consumerism does not survive merely because people need things. It thrives because people feel the need to maintain a seamless harmony among the things they own. This tendency is best understood by the market itself, which giant companies greatly take advantage of. Presently, companies rarely sell isolated products. Instead, they offer entire ecosystems to attract consumers.

For instance, if you buy fitness equipment, you will soon notice advertisements for supplements, specialised clothing and smart wearables appearing everywhere. The goal is not simply to encourage spending; it is to make one purchase feel incomplete without the next.

What makes this pattern so powerful is that the unnecessary purchases rarely feel irrational. Every upgrade feels practical on its own. But slowly, one improvement starts demanding another, until consumption stops being driven by need and starts being driven by the desire to make everything feel complete.

Social media as the new modern robe

Have you ever noticed how you can be doing perfectly fine and still feel strangely behind after spending time on social media? It rarely affects us through one post or one trend. It works through repetition. Endless exposure to curated achievements, lifestyles and upgrades quietly reshapes our perspective.

What once felt normal begins to feel average. What felt sufficient starts feeling inadequate. And social media only reinforces that feeling. Somewhere along the way, life begins revolving around comparisons.

We find ourselves in a rat race to achieve a little more, own something better or stay a few steps ahead. Slowly, inspiration is replaced by envy, and calmness and satisfaction quietly slip away from our lives.

Breaking the cycle

The solution is perhaps not to stop wanting better things altogether. Growth is natural, and upgrading our lives when beneficial is never the problem. The real challenge begins when we stop making choices consciously and fall into a loop of irrational purchases fuelled by artificial inadequacy.

Maybe resisting modern consumerism starts with slowing down. Asking simple questions before buying something: Do I really need this? Am I solving a problem or trying to match a feeling? Sometimes creating distance between wanting and purchasing helps us see whether we truly value something or are simply carried away by the moment.

We should shift our perspective once in a while to focus on what functions rather than perfection. Not everything in our lives needs to match, upgrade or fit an ideal image. Limiting constant exposure to trends and comparisons can also create space for contentment to return.

More importantly, it is essential to appreciate what we currently have rather than dwelling on what we lack. If we take time to reflect, we realise there are things we often take for granted, but without them our lives would be much harder than they are. Gratitude for the smaller things encourages introspection. It helps us realise that while material things can bring comfort and convenience, they can never be a lasting source of happiness.

Looking back, an epiphany quietly struck me: there was never really anything wrong with my old phone, my earbuds or even the wired mouse sitting beside my laptop. What actually changed was my perception of them.

Maybe that is how modern consumerism functions. It gradually alters our perspective until perfectly adequate things begin to feel insufficient. The Diderot effect reminds us that the endless desire for “better” often has less to do with necessity and more to do with our perception of material things. And it is high time we understand that real contentment begins when we stop allowing that distorted perception to shape our sense of satisfaction.