
We are the product of a lottery.
But that’s not what Stoicism originally teaches. This philosophy holds that everything follows a universal will, one that is fundamentally benevolent, and that the apparent randomness of our lives is part of a greater harmonious Whole. This Whole, guided by a cosmic purpose, encompasses all aspects of our existence—what we perceive as the greatest hardships and the greatest blessings—each contributing to the balance of the universe. The Stoic does not believe in pure chance or chaos. He believes in an ordered structure, one we cannot fully comprehend due to our condition: we are but small beings of flesh and bone, with limited time in the vastness of existence.
And yet,
this Stoic logic, filtered through our small yet astonishing minds, often feels like a kind of lottery—
a lottery where winners and losers,
the rich and the poor,
are inextricably intertwined.
However, this lottery is not the product of pure randomness. From a scientific standpoint, it is the result of a complex mechanism that combines our genetic heritage, life experiences, and surrounding circumstances.
I recently read an article 1 in which a neuroscientist 2 explained that our genome—the entirety of our genetic material—dictates part of our functioning, but what we become also depends on countless other variables:
- the context of our intrauterine life,
- our diet,
- our relationships,
- our habits, and even
- the social and environmental influences that mark our existence.
Every interaction, every moment of our childhood, shapes our brain, our reward systems, and, ultimately, our relationship with abstract yet profoundly influential concepts like money.
In this article, {{username}}, we delve into our relationship with money—specifically, our purchasing impulses and the deep-seated desire to possess.
Money runs the world, but it also runs away with your mind.
Because, in truth, it all begins in your mind:
If, from an early age, you are exposed to adverse circumstances—such as emotional neglect, insecurity, or an unstable environment—your brain can carry lasting imprints. Studies reveal that such experiences can disrupt key areas like the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex, heightening the risk of anxiety, depression, and attention disorders.
Within this intricate alchemy, our reward system plays a pivotal role: it compels us to pursue pleasure and seek satisfaction, yet, when out of balance, it can lead to irrational or uncontrollable behaviours in response to stimuli such as money.
When overstimulated—whether by genetic predispositions, emotional wounds, or relentless exposure to insatiable material desires—this system can drive us toward excess. This relentless pursuit of satisfaction is rarely a fleeting whim; instead, it often reveals deeper underlying needs: a craving for social validation, a longing for recognition, or an unconscious attempt to fill an emotional void.
Consider, for example, the compulsion to buy: a new pair of shoes, a stunning watch, or that convertible gleaming under the sun’s rays. These material objects often carry emotional weight, transforming into symbols of an imagined "better self"—a temporary illusion of control or accomplishment.
But here’s the rub: once the purchase is made, that surge of euphoria fades quickly, often replaced by an even greater void. Why? Because the object itself was never the solution. It merely provided temporary relief from an underlying emotional or neurological imbalance.
Can These Impulses Be Controlled?
The answer,
fortunately,
is yes.
And the way to achieve this lies in reason.
Our prefrontal cortex, that part of the brain that matures late, around age 21, is the seat of our rationality and decision-making abilities. It acts as a brake on our impulsive desires. When activated, it releases a neurotransmitter called GABA (gamma-aminobutyric acid). This neurotransmitter plays a key role in inhibiting the excesses of the limbic system, that primitive part of the brain responsible for impulses and dopamine surges. GABA regulates neuronal activity and acts as a "brake" in the central nervous system, inhibiting excessive excitatory signals.
But this process is not automatic. Cultivating this mastery—your GABA—requires practice.
What are the exercises?
You already know them, don’t you?
We all do, yet they are the hardest to implement because it is so easy to give in to our impulses. And yet, these are the very practices that will, little by little, help you better manage them: meditation, mindfulness, healthy eating, restorative sleep…
These are your long-term tools, your steady compass. They are vital to your pursuit of lasting well-being.
But when the impulse comes knocking, there is only one thing to do: pause and think. Slow down the decision-making process. This deliberate pause gives you the space to ask rational questions like, "Do I truly need this?" or "Does this align with my priorities?" Such moments of reflection activate your prefrontal cortex, reinforcing its control, and stimulate the release of the neurotransmitter GABA, which helps regulate your emotional response.
This becomes, ultimately, an exercise in self-understanding. "Why does this purchase hold such appeal?" "What void am I seeking to fill?" "What dissatisfaction lies beneath this desire?" These are not easy questions to confront, but taking the time to answer them can liberate you from the relentless cycle of immediate gratification—a fleeting illusion that never truly satisfies.
And so,
we return to the very foundations of philosophy: to reason in order to know oneself, and to know oneself in order to better temper one’s desires.
And so,
we dispel a common myth: Stoicism does not reject emotions—it seeks to understand them, so they may be mastered.
What fascinates me, {{username}}, is the quiet joy of realizing that our ancestors understood, two millennia ago, what modern science now confirms: ancient philosophers told us to "Be rational to be happy," and today, science tells us that rationality indeed helps reduce anxiety.
~
Money and possessions are but mirrors of our aspirations, our vulnerabilities, and our values. By learning to observe and distance yourself from the impulses that drive you to buy or possess, without automatically yielding to them, you reclaim your power.
Yes, regulating these impulses is no small feat.
But it is far from impossible. It demands a commitment to cultivating self-awareness, uncovering the deeper roots of your desires, and attuning yourself to that quiet, rational voice within—the one that urges you to pause, reflect, and make intentional choices.
It is not money or objects that should dominate you, but your own enlightened reason that should guide your choices.
Money, like everything else, should not be our master. It should be a tool.
It is up to us to decide whether we make it
a lever for our fulfilment,
or a chain that binds and confines us.