Lately, I’ve noticed how much I’m influenced by the things I see, the recommendations I receive, and the advice from people I consider authorities. It feels like the modern world is constantly shaping my decisions.

To be honest, social media and marketing make us buy things we don’t really need. The line between “needs” and “wants” has become blurred, thanks to the overwhelming amount of information we’re bombarded with.

Everything and everyone seem to pull us into the orbit of “wants.”

I generally avoid buying things that won’t positively impact my life. Around 2019, I bought a DJI Osmo Mobile. The gimbal world was booming among YouTubers and broadcasters. With mobile phones improving in video recording technology, I wanted to jump on the bandwagon and create something remarkable. I had no idea what a gimbal was until a colleague lent me his brand-new DJI Osmo Mobile for the weekend. I was amazed by the possibilities it offered for shooting videos and being creative. I ordered mine right away. Initially, it was super fun to shoot videos with my mobile phone mounted on the gimbal. However, it soon became a burden to carry, mount, and calibrate.

As DJI released more advanced versions, I found myself preferring to shoot videos with my bare hands. Eventually, I sold the gimbal and promised myself not to buy another technological device unless I truly needed it.

We are human, and humans can make the same mistake repeatedly.

Recently, I was listening to Andrew Huberman’s podcast. In one episode, he discussed sleep quality and how to improve it. He mentioned wake-up lights and found them useful because they provide natural or artificial light during the first moments of waking up. This helps activate the eye nerves and gives a morning boost to feel and perform better. Naturally, I researched and ordered one within a few days. I couldn’t determine if it was a “need” or a “want.”

I struggled to wake up in the morning, especially during the dark autumn and winter days in my country. The first ridiculous thing I encountered was the high prices from Philips for a wake-up light—over 100, even close to 200 euros for a simple light with a timer and dimming functionality, despite the cheap LED lighting technology. I was curious about who valued this non-advanced product and how. In the end, I bought a cheaper device that served its purpose.

The morning after I bought my wake-up light, I woke up 30 minutes before it started to shine and its alarm went off. The same thing happened the next day and the day after. Eventually, I realized I had paid for the wake-up light to motivate my inner clock to wake up early automatically.

Sometimes, we pay not just for physical goods also to stimulate ourselves to realize we don’t actually need something but the effect of having it.

Owning a gimbal made me realize I didn’t need one to record videos. Similarly, owning a wake-up light made me realize I could wake up without it, although I still need the artificial lighting it provides in the mornings, as Mr. Huberman suggests.