Why You Should Pursue the “Unnecessary” Things in Life
Donkeys, AI, Kierkegaard, and the relationship between money and purpose
Money often becomes a stand-in for purpose. It’s tempting to believe that wealth alone can provide the sense of fulfillment we crave. After all, financial security offers freedom, and freedom seems like a shortcut to happiness.
But is it? If money were enough, why do so many people – especially those who appear successful – struggle to find true contentment? Why are young men, for instance, pouring their time and energy into speculative investments like cryptocurrency, yet reporting record levels of loneliness and despair?
The truth is, money can never fully satisfy our need for purpose. But that doesn’t mean it’s irrelevant. The relationship between money and purpose is complex, often misunderstood – and absolutely worth exploring.
Our inner donkey
Humans share about 80% of their DNA with donkeys – and 100% of their character.
Donkeys are famously stubborn, occasionally ill-tempered, but most importantly, purpose-driven creatures.
In Running with Sherman, author Christopher McDougall tells the story of rescuing a donkey from an animal hoarder’s squalid barn. Sherman, as he became named, was malnourished and filthy. McDougall and his family treated him with antibiotics and cleaned him up, yet Sherman’s mental condition didn’t improve.
A neighboring farmer offered a surprising diagnosis: “He’s been neglected, and that can cause despair as deadly as any illness. He needs a reason to live. He needs a job.”
McDougall, a journalist more familiar with conflict zones than farm animals, was stumped. What job could he possibly offer a donkey? Then he remembered burro racing, a quirky tradition where runners compete alongside their donkeys on rugged trails.
So, he gave Sherman a new job: running partner. As Sherman trained, he regained strength, confidence and joy. McDougall writes: “We kept at it, working to surround Sherman with friends and teach him that the only medicine that could cure him for good was the same one that works for all of us: the more he ran, feeling the sun on his face and his own muscles warming his body from the inside out, the better he’d feel.”
I’ve been thinking about Sherman’s story lately because, like donkeys, we need jobs, too. Yet, as we queasily launch into the age of artificial intelligence, the future of work feels increasingly uncertain.
Take – oh, I don’t know – writers, for instance. Platforms now compose Shakespearean sonnets in seconds, faster than I can even open a new document. Being parted from a livelihood is more than just sweet sorrow, as I’m worried AI threatens something more profound: our deeper motivation, our search for meaning, our sense of purpose.
Apple’s recent commercials promoting its AI feature, Apple Intelligence, hint at this dystopian possibility. In one, a woman uses it to critique a document she hasn’t read. In another, she relies on AI to remember someone at a party, avoiding embarrassment. Both ads end with the grating chorus of a terrible song declaring, “I am genius.”
Is this what qualifies as genius these days? Simply following orders? AI does the work, and she reaps the empty reward of appearing sharp and capable to others.
The marketing trick is convincing us this is empowerment when, in reality, it’s a kind of enslavement. Life is presented as a series of obstacles to “solve,” with no real engagement, no authentic self in the process.
Walker Percy – dare I say, ingeniously – captured this existential dread in a favorite novel of mine, The Moviegoer:
“For some time now, the impression has been growing upon me that everyone is dead. It happens when I speak to people. In the middle of a sentence, it will come over me: yes, beyond a doubt this is death… At such times it seems that the conversation is spoken by automatons who have no choice in what they say.”
This is my fear about AI – not its intelligence, but its ability to strip us of ours. By outsourcing every interaction to a machine, we lose something vital: authenticity.
Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard argued that purpose comes from living authentically, not from seeking external validation through approval or recognition.
As he wrote:
“The most common form of despair is not being who you are.”
And research backs him up: purpose is essential to well-being, fostering optimism, hope and positive relationships while shielding us from depression and anxiety. Harvard professor Arthur Brooks calls purpose a key ingredient for happiness, providing life with direction and meaning.
Without it, we risk becoming like Sherman before his rescue – lost, trapped in despair, locked in a squalid pen of our own making. As Percy also wrote:
“What is the nature of the search? you ask. The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life. To become aware of the search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair.”
AI may derail this search, redirecting us toward external validations – status, fame, power, etc. – that are ultimately hollow.
And since one of the most pervasive forms of external validation is money, it’s worth exploring the relationship between money and purpose.
Can money provide purpose? Can purpose lead to wealth? And how do these forces interact in shaping a meaningful, authentic life?
The relationship between money and purpose
Here are five connections:
Money can’t buy purpose
Money, as a source of purpose, is inherently flawed. It can provide opportunities, but it makes for a poor foundation for a meaningful life.
Consider the plight of men today, as highlighted by unsettling statistics:
Education: Women graduate college at higher rates than men in every state across the U.S.
Mental Health: The suicide rate for men is four times that of women.
Relationships: Nearly half of male teens have never dated, nearly double the rate of previous generations.
Friendships: Thirty years ago, most young men had over six close friends. Today, it’s half that, and 15% report having no close friends at all. (Source: Growth Equation)
Yet, in one area, men are killing it: investing. Nearly 75% of cryptocurrency is owned by men. With Bitcoin’s meteoric rise, topping $100,000, many appear to be doing quite well financially.
Crypto ownership among consumers in the United States in the three months prior to November 2022, by age and gender (Statista):
But beneath the surface, I think, this trend reveals something deeper than a typical market mania. For many, crypto isn’t just an investment – it’s an identity. Crypto culture is steeped in its own “bro” language, fashion, extravagant conferences and advocacy groups. It offers a sense of belonging, a cause and, subsequently, a purpose.
Yet if financial success equated to well-being, why are so many of these young men struggling with addiction to investing apps, loneliness and life dissatisfaction?
The answer lies in a fundamental truth: money alone is a poor source of purpose. It’s inherently insatiable. The only way to win is to reach for more, more and more.
Like Sisyphus rolling his boulder uphill, those who chase wealth for its own sake are caught in what scholars call the “hedonic treadmill,” a cycle where the satisfaction of achieving one financial goal is short-lived, quickly replaced by the next.
Research supports this: tying self-worth to financial success not only detracts from psychological needs like connection and competence but can also lead to greater dissatisfaction and anxiety.
As the Stoic philosopher Seneca observed:
“If, no matter how far you travel, there always seems to be some further place you need to reach, that is a sure sign that the desire is contrary to nature.”
Purpose makes us happier than money
If you must choose between money and purpose, choose purpose. The data is clear: purpose contributes more to happiness than money ever could.
As William von Hippel documents in The Social Leap:
“Poor people who go to religious services several times a week are happier than rich people who never go. Connection gives you more bang for the buck than money ever will.”
Numerous surveys of retirees echo this sentiment. Social bonds, volunteering, hobbies and even pet ownership consistently rank as their primary sources of purpose – far above their financial achievements. Without a reason to wake up (after sleeping in, of course), even the largest nest egg becomes meaningless.
While money is shown to reduce financial stress and boost happiness, its influence is limited by your state of mind.
Simply put: If you’re rich and miserable, more money won’t help.
Purpose can fuel wealth
Purpose and money aren’t opposing forces. A strong sense of purpose may actually enhance financial success.
One study found that people with a strong sense of purpose experienced significant positive life changes over time, including economic prosperity. Meanwhile, another study revealed that individuals with a higher sense of purpose had greater household income and net worth, as well as better long-term financial growth.
Why? Purpose encourages behaviors that foster financial stability and success, like building strong relationships, staying motivated and engaging in communities. These behaviors create a ripple effect, enhancing both wealth and well-being.
Maybe it really does pay to be kind.
Money can help us nurture what gives us purpose
While money can’t create purpose, it can help us nurture it. Sure, it sounds obvious: more money allows us to do the things we want to do, to indulge in pursuits that give life meaning. Still, this connection between money and purpose offers a motivating lesson.
Research from the University of Illinois found that wealthier people tend to report a stronger sense of meaning in life.
This makes sense – when you’re stressed about paying bills or struggling to meet basic needs, it’s hard to spend time contemplating the meaning of life. Conversely, when people feel secure in their financial lives, they’re more likely to pursue goals important to them, enhancing their sense of meaning.
Perhaps this connection should serve as motivation to be better stewards of our money: earning diligently, managing wisely and aligning our spending with what matters most.
Money isn’t a source of purpose, and you don’t need it to live a purposeful life. But used wisely, it can grant access to the things that bring purpose into sharper focus, making life more meaningful.
Paradoxically, one of the best ways to achieve this is by relieving ourselves of money – by giving it away or spending it on others.
The purpose of money may be to give it away
One of the most powerful ways to align money with purpose is through giving. Take it from Duty Free founder Chuck Feeney, who gave away a billion-dollar fortune:
“I cannot think of a more personally rewarding and appropriate use of wealth than to give.”
If anything, it may be the secret to good financial Karma. Research from the National Bureau of Economic Research found that charitable giving correlates with increased income. For every dollar donated, individuals saw an average return of $3.75.
Giving also promotes happiness more effectively than spending money on oneself. Of course, this doesn’t mean giving all your money away will make you rich. Instead, generosity strengthens social bonds, enhances well-being and fosters productivity – all of which contribute to both happiness and wealth.
It aligns with Pablo Picasso’s insight:
“The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.”
This paradox – that giving leads to gaining – is the bridge to a deeper truth: life’s greatest joys often come from what’s unnecessary.
Spend money on the “unnecessary” things in life
Do anything with passion and intensity, and people will inevitably think you’re insane. And that’s okay – they just don’t understand.
During ultra trail races, as I’ve dragged my depleted body up one hill and down another, I’ve passed hikers and wildlife enthusiasts seated comfortably on benches who shook their heads and muttered dismissively, “You paid to do this to yourself?”
They’re not wrong. I did pay to suffer. Something that is unnecessary.
The time, energy, risk and $100+ entry fees aren’t required by any stretch. But that’s exactly what makes it so meaningful. For me, it’s about the pursuit of something greater than comfort. For other runners, it might be a bucket-list goal, a personal best or even a shot at winning. What connects us is our “why” – a deeply personal purpose.
The truth is, the most meaningful things in life are unnecessary.
C.S. Lewis wrote:
“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”
Consider that people who prioritize connections over achievements report greater life satisfaction and well-being. Or how a 2021 study found that a higher sense of meaning in life predicted better friendships, stronger relationships and less loneliness. And the famed Harvard Longevity Study, which concluded: good relationships are the strongest predictors of health and happiness – more than career achievements, exercise, or diet.
Relationships, creativity, exploration, none of these are strictly necessary, but they are what make life worth living.
Perhaps my fears of AI disrupting our sense of purpose are misplaced. Machines, after all, aren’t built to value the frivolous, the inexplicable or the deeply human.
The frivolity of life is the point. Just as Kierkegaard observed:
“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”
If I had to distill this into one financial rule, it would be this: spend money on what is unnecessary but meaningful. Find what gives your life authentic purpose, and then use your money to support those things.
Sitting motionless in the cold woods, waiting for that one perfect second to release an arrow. Stepping into unfamiliar lands without knowing the language or directions. Holding the weathered hand of someone as they exhale their last few hours’ worth of breath.
None of it is necessary, but all of it is meaningful.
Your money can go toward what the world categorizes as necessary – the social status, the career ladder, the bank account – or it can go toward your purpose. Which do you think describes a reason to live?
Not every purposeful act must change the world. It doesn’t have to involve founding a nonprofit or curing cancer. You only need to indulge in the things that honor your authentic self: friends, a craft, art – all the things that allow you to write your life story as a poem rather than an algorithm.
Poetry, too. Yes, things like poetry.
As poet Evie Shockley wrote:
“Trust me when I say that poetry
heals, guides, feeds, & enlivens. Poetry may
not change the world, but might change you.”
If your money isn’t changing you for the better, it’s not serving much of a purpose.
Wow, just stumbled upon your post. Very powerful and nice writing.