Why We Can't Stop Chasing the Latest Gadgets

Why We Crave What Others Don’t Have

In the Indian film The Family Star, an architect named Govardhan pulls off a feat that leaves government contractors speechless: he designs a 3BHK flat in a mere 600 square feet.

The contractors scoff—it’s impossible. But Govardhan’s logic is sharp. Bedrooms, he argues, only need space for beds and essentials. The real impact comes from the living room—the space where guests make their judgment. Make it grand, and the flat feels high-end, even if it’s compact.

A 1BHK screams “budget.” A 2BHK is just okay. But a 3BHK? That reads as premium—proof you’ve made it.

This isn’t just a clever plot point. It’s a lens on how we think. Govardhan’s design taps into our need to project status—to feel like we’re ahead.

It’s the same instinct that fuels our obsession with gadgets. The iPhone 16 Pro. The Apple Watch Ultra. The sleekest foldable phone. The appeal isn’t just about faster processors or better cameras.

It’s about proving, even quietly, that we’re winning.

The Psychology of Status Symbols

At its core, our obsession with tech is about status.

When the first iPhone dropped in 2007, it was a flex. You were early. Ahead.

Fast-forward to 2025—iPhones are everywhere. The game has shifted. Now it’s about how fast you got it or how you paid for it—cash instead of EMI.

The gadget itself isn’t enough. Timing and context matter more.

It’s the same playbook with other gear. A decade ago, a Fitbit signaled fitness awareness. Now? It’s the Apple Watch Ultra, bulky and bold. Earbuds too—AirPods Pro 2 outclass the base model. The moment something becomes common, its shine dims. And we start chasing again.

This isn’t just personal—it scales.

Countries do it too. When Israel gets F-35 jets, neighbors like Saudi or the UAE race to match. Everyone calls the U.S. for the same tech. It’s not just defense—it’s status. A Cold War classic: the U.S. and Soviet Union stockpiling nukes, each terrified of lagging behind.

Whether it’s a watch or a warplane, the mindset is the same.

We want what others don’t have.

Why? Evolution.

Early humans who stood out—through strength or cleverness—survived better. They led tribes. Found mates. Gadgets today are our version of that. They signal we’re secure, capable, desirable.

But there’s a catch.

Once everyone has it, it means nothing. And the race starts over.

Why Traditional Advice Fails

So if all this chasing is draining, why not just stop?

You’ve heard the advice: unplug, stop upgrading, embrace minimalism.

Nice in theory. Useless in practice.

We’re wired to seek status. Telling someone to stop caring about tech is like telling them to stop liking food.

Social media is often blamed for this. But even if you quit Instagram, the instinct doesn’t disappear. You’ll flex somewhere else—at work with your Galaxy Fold, at dinner with your VR headset, or in conversation about your custom PC.

The drive doesn’t go away. It just shifts platforms.

That drive isn’t a bug. It’s survival programming. The sharpest spear, the best shelter, the strongest group—these were status markers that literally kept you alive.

Today, your phone says: I’m doing well.

That’s why “just stop” advice rings hollow. It ignores our wiring. It doesn’t address the need—it just shames the expression of it.

If we want real change, we need a different strategy—one that works with human nature, not against it.

Pick Your Battles

So how do you live with the chase without letting it run your life?

Simple: Don’t quit. Reroute.

Here’s how.

1. Prioritize what actually matters.
   If tech is your thing, fine. Maybe the M4 MacBook Pro boosts your work. Go for it. But if your iPhone 14 is still crushing it, skip the 16. Spend that cash on something that builds real skills or relationships. Tools are temporary. Competence lasts.

2. Own your choices.
   No Apple Watch? Say it: “I’m not into metrics. I’m into memories.” Now it’s a decision, not a lack. Govardhan didn’t fight the 600-square-foot limit. He reframed it. Do the same. No console? You’ve got other priorities.

3. Redefine status on your terms.
   A friend of mine skipped the 65-inch OLED. Not because he couldn’t buy it—he just said, “I’m too busy building my startup to watch TV.” That wasn’t a lie. It was a reframe. Small apartment? Call it efficient. Budget laptop? Say it does exactly what you need.

This works because you’re still playing the status game—you’re just choosing the rules.

Govardhan’s 3BHK design wasn’t about space. It was about understanding what people value and presenting it well.

Same for us. We’re not going to stop caring about status. But we can be more intentional about where we compete—and what winning actually means.

So next time a shiny new phone drops, stop and ask: Do I want this, or do I just want to be seen with it?

Skip one upgrade. Reframe it as a conscious choice. Then use that energy for something that’ll matter a year from now.

That’s the real flex.