5 Smart Things to Buy That Increase Happiness, According to Ramit Sethi
There is a certain tired feeling that comes from doing everything right and still feeling oddly unsatisfied. You save a little. You avoid obvious mistakes. You tell yourself you are being responsible. And yet, some quiet part of you keeps wondering why the days feel heavier than they should.
This question often circles back to money, though rarely in the way we expect. Not in the sense of earning more or spending less, but in how we decide what is worth paying for at all. Ramit Sethi has been talking about this for years, though he rarely frames it as happiness. He talks about values. About spending in ways that actually support the life you are trying to live, instead of the life you think you are supposed to want.
When I look back on my own choices, the moments that changed how I felt day to day were not tied to big upgrades or dramatic wins. They were quieter purchases. Almost forgettable at first. But over time, they shifted how I moved through my life. Slowly. Permanently.
1. Buying Time Without Calling It That
Most of us think of time as something abstract. Something you manage with calendars and to do lists. But the first thing Ramit taught me, though not directly, is that time can be bought. Not in a flashy way. More like a small release valve you did not realize was there.
I remember the first time I paid someone to clean my apartment. I felt embarrassed admitting it. As if I had failed some unspoken test of adulthood. The apartment was not large. I was capable. I could do it myself. And I did, for years. Poorly, resentfully, usually late at night.
What surprised me was not how clean the place felt afterward. It was how I felt the following Saturday morning. I woke up without that low grade dread of chores waiting. The day felt open in a way I had not experienced in a long time. Nothing remarkable happened. That was the point.
Ramit often talks about spending money to remove friction. Not to impress anyone, not to optimize productivity, but to reclaim mental space. Meal delivery for a busy season. Ride shares instead of long, draining commutes. A virtual assistant for tasks you endlessly postpone. These are not luxury purchases in the traditional sense. They are relief purchases.
The overlooked truth is that time pressure erodes happiness quietly. It does not announce itself as misery. It shows up as irritability, procrastination, the feeling that you are always slightly behind. Buying back even a small amount of time interrupts that pattern.
The realization, at least for me, was not that my time was valuable in some abstract way. It was that my attention was fragile. Once I saw that, spending money to protect it no longer felt indulgent. It felt honest.
2. Spending on Health Before It Becomes Urgent
Health spending is usually framed as prevention or optimization. Both words sound virtuous and boring. In reality, most of us delay these purchases until something hurts enough to demand attention.
I put off physical therapy for years because the pain was manageable. Manageable is a dangerous word. It allows discomfort to become background noise. By the time I finally went, I had adapted my entire posture around avoiding pain I pretended was not there.
Ramit includes health as one of the areas worth spending generously on, but not in the dramatic way people expect. It is not about biohacking or luxury gyms. It is about addressing small problems before they calcify into identity. The bad back you joke about. The poor sleep you normalize. The anxiety you work around.
When I finally invested in regular therapy, I did not feel better overnight. What changed was my baseline. Conversations felt less reactive. Decisions felt clearer. I was no longer constantly negotiating with myself. That shift was subtle, but it touched everything else.
There is a psychological concept called hedonic adaptation, the idea that we quickly adjust to improvements and return to baseline happiness. Health spending disrupts that pattern because it raises the baseline itself. You are not chasing a high. You are removing a drag.
The realization here is uncomfortable. Many of us spend freely on things that entertain us while bargaining aggressively with our own well being. Once you see that pattern, it is hard to unsee. And once you experience what it feels like to live without constant low level strain, it changes how you define enough.
3. Paying for Experiences That Stay With You
Experiences are often presented as the obvious answer. Spend on travel. Make memories. Choose moments over things. All true, and also incomplete.
I have taken trips that left me strangely empty. Perfect photos, forgettable feelings. What Ramit points to, and what took me longer to understand, is that not all experiences are equal. The ones that increase happiness tend to change how you see yourself.
I still remember a writing workshop I almost did not attend because it felt expensive. I told myself I could learn the same things online. That was probably true. What I could not replicate was the environment. Being in a room with people who took the same quiet ambition seriously. The permission it gave me.
Those experiences linger because they alter your internal narrative. You stop seeing yourself as someone who someday might do the thing. You become someone who already has.
Research on experiential purchases suggests they create more lasting satisfaction than material goods, largely because they become part of our identity and social story. But that only happens when the experience is aligned with something meaningful to you, not aspirational in someone else’s language.
The realization is not to chase novelty. It is to notice which experiences leave a residue. The ones you think about months later, not because they were impressive, but because they clarified something you already felt.
4. Investing in Relationships Without Keeping Score
This one is tricky, because money and relationships make people uncomfortable. We like to pretend connection is pure, untouched by logistics. In reality, many relationships erode because we avoid spending where it would help.
I used to hesitate before booking flights to see old friends. We can just catch up next time, I told myself. Next time stretched into years. When we finally met again, the distance felt heavier than the cost ever would have.
Ramit talks about using money to deepen relationships, not as obligation, but as intention. Hosting people comfortably. Traveling to be present for milestones. Paying for shared experiences instead of exchanging gifts that disappear into drawers.
There is something grounding about sitting across from someone you care about, unhurried. Conversation flows differently when you are not counting minutes or calculating expense. That ease is not accidental. It is often paid for.
Sociologists have long noted that strong social ties are one of the most consistent predictors of long term happiness. What gets less attention is how often we undermine those ties through financial avoidance. We wait for perfect circumstances that never arrive.
The realization here is simple and difficult. Relationships require investment. Not grand gestures, but repeated signals that someone matters enough to show up fully. Money is not the point. Presence is. Money just makes presence possible.
5. Buying Convenience That Respects Your Energy
Convenience has a bad reputation. It is associated with laziness or waste. But I have come to see it as a form of self respect.
For a long time, I chose the cheapest option by default. The longer route. The slower process. The extra steps. I told myself it built character. What it actually built was fatigue.
Ramit frames convenience as a way to support your natural rhythms instead of constantly fighting them. Grocery delivery when evenings are already stretched thin. Tools that reduce decision making. Systems that work even when you are tired.
The hidden consequence of avoiding convenience is that it turns every task into a small test of willpower. And willpower, as psychologists have shown, is not infinite. We deplete it on trivial choices and then wonder why we have nothing left for what matters.
When I finally allowed myself to spend on convenience selectively, I noticed a strange shift. I was less resentful. More patient. Not because life got easier, but because it stopped feeling unnecessarily hard.
The realization is not that convenience is always good. It is that energy is precious. Spending money to protect it can be one of the most compassionate decisions you make.
Quiet Observations to Sit With
- Happiness often increases when friction decreases, not when status increases.
- Spending aligned with values feels different than spending driven by habit.
- Time pressure hides in places we have learned to tolerate.
- Health improvements change the baseline, not just the mood.
- The best purchases are the ones you stop noticing because life flows better.
Conclusion
Ramit Sethi’s ideas are sometimes framed as bold or contrarian, but at their core, they are gentle. They ask you to look honestly at how you live, not how you perform responsibility. They invite you to notice where money quietly shapes your days, for better or worse.
I have found that the smartest purchases rarely announce themselves. They do not come with bragging rights. They come with relief. With space. With a sense that life fits a little better.
There is a line often attributed to Seneca that I return to from time to time. Life isn’t short—we just let too much of it slip away .Money, used thoughtfully, can be a way of wasting less. Not in pursuit of more, but in service of enough.
