The Art of Frugal Hedonism

How to Relish Constraints and Thrive

Anna Katharina Schaffner | Psychology Today

A shorter version of this article was originally published on 27 May 2025 on Psychology Today/The Art of Self-Improvement

Frugal Hedonism

If your work-life balance is badly out of kilter, and you use up a lot of mental head-space contemplating the ‘should I stay or should I go’ question each day but feel hopelessly trapped, there is a way out that is curiously underused. Many of us feel stuck in what are known as ‘golden cage’ scenarios: We have worked incredibly hard to get to where we are, and, on paper, we work in what we thought are dream jobs rich in status and (hopefully) also financial rewards. Our salaries may be so seductive (or else feel so non-negotiably essential) that even contemplating leaving our jobs behind in search for an alternative way to live may seem heretic, or like financial lunacy.

Joyless Golden Cages

It is likely that over the years, our expenses will have risen in tandem with our salaries – we may have high mortgages or exorbitant inner-city rents to pay, kids to feed, and various status-related standards to uphold. We may have a car or two to pay off, and our monthly food-, clothes-, drink-, beauty- and eating-out budgets might be considerable. Our kids may have costly hobbies or expect glam holidays in far-away locations.

And yet, so often dissatisfaction reigns. Many of us are so stressed and tired and time-poor that we cannot enjoy what we have achieved in a meaningful way. In spite of our hard-earned material abundance, we don’t seem to be thriving. Netflix & co. and too much red wine or a compulsive shopping habit don’t still our existential itch. There is a growing sense that something is missing. But we have to keep working hard to finance this lifestyle, and never find the time really to think this all through. And besides, even if it no longer feels amazing, the thought of not having all of this or of having less in some areas feels even more terrifying than the prospect of constant exhaustion.

The Art of Frugal Hedonism: A Guide to Spending Less While Enjoying Everything More

A friend recently recommended a book to me that has been eye-opening. I love everything about it. It is called ‘The Art of Frugal Hedonism: A Guide to Spending Less While Enjoying Everything More’ by Annie Raser-Rowland and Adam Grubb. It suggests a third way for redressing our work-life balance: radically adjusting our needs and spending habits. And it doesn’t do so in a joyless, ascetic way, but rather invites us to understand what really matters to us and what gives us pleasure, and to prioritise that and really relish it. It also invites us to gamify our life and come up with ingenious, creative, and fun ways to spend much less on all the stuff that doesn’t make us happy anyway. Above all, this book is about avoiding waste: wasted life-time, resources, possibilities for fulfilment and connection, and also literal waste.

The basic premise is that if we consume less and focus more on experiences, we need less money, and we end up with more time, which we can then spend in a freer, more conscious and deliberate way on even more experiences. This sounds very simple and banal, but it is a classic ‘common sense, uncommon practice’ scenario.

Your Money or Your Time? Consider Life-Cost

Most of us unthinkingly privilege money over time. On top of that, we also often use our free time unwisely in non-regenerative, anti-hedonic ways. Frequently, we just consume stuff in a joyless, uncontrolled manner: we binge-watch series in a half-comatose state; we eat too much unhealthy food to regulate our emotions or reward ourselves; we drink too much to numb our sense that something isn't quite right; we buy pointless stuff that only ever gives us a cheap, fleeting dopamine hit and then ends up clogging up our closets and living spaces. Our specific poisons may differ, but most of us tend to overspend on clothes, tech, food, and drink in particular, all of which also have serious environmental and health consequences.

A powerful way of redressing our work-life balance is therefore taking a road much less travelled (most of us opt for productivity and time-management hacks): it is to look seriously and unflinchingly at our consumption habits. Is what we spend our money on really worth our investment in life-cost? The philosopher Henry David Thoreau defined life-cost as the time and mental, physical, and social costs that come with all our choices. The cost of accepting a promotion or a better-paying job, for example, might be a longer commute and less time with your friends and family, higher stress levels, and impaired health and mental well-being.

And don't underestimate the cost of seemingly trivial compounding expenses, either: A latte a day costs £4.25, which is £1,460 yearly and about £33,000 across your lifetime. Warren Buffett was famously wary about hair cuts, because his long-term-thinking-attuned mind told him that a hair-cut would cost him $300,000 - for if he invested his £30 instead and got a really high rate of return over 50 years, that would be what he could do with the money instead. A haircut seen through this lens thus comes at a very hight financial opportunity cost.

Full Closets with Nothing to Wear in Them

Too much abundance, comfort and convenience, and too many choices can induce stress and overwhelm, too. Sometimes, paired-down, more calibrated frameworks are a relief and safe us from constant decision-making-fatigue, fear of getting things wrong or missing out, and not constantly maximizing our options.

Our wardrobes are a great example of this: if our closets are cluttered with hundreds of clothes, most of which we don’t even like, we will always feel like we have nothing to wear. We may wear the same things over and over, or else keep buying new stuff that just adds to the problem (I'm guilty on both counts). If we radically curate our clothes and end up with just a handful of fine, good quality pieces we truly love and that make us feel good, we are much more likely to combine these more creatively and freely and bring back a sense of fun and ease into dressing.

Relishing

The concept of frugal hedonism invites us really to relish what we have and do, instead of constantly chasing for more. It invites us to reflect on what we really need and what gives us pleasure, and then to indulge in that. It also challenges us to live much more creatively with some constraints. To simplify and streamline, to honour and discover untapped resources, to dance in chains of our own choosing. Every good game is based on extreme limitations. Because everything that is unlimited loses its value and becomes oppressive. As vampire lore teaches us, most immortals dream of death.

Frugal hedonism is not asceticism or minimalism as you may know it, because at the heart of this philosophy is relishing – truly enjoying and indulging in only a few well-chosen things, activities, or sensual experiences. Excess is permissible but must be framed by constraint, so that it remains special and meaningful. Think of the ancient rhythms of feasting and fasting, of lent and Easter, of truly special, indulgent holy days during which everyone goes crazy, of the seasons in which abundance alternates with scarcity.

Relishing is the most important skill in the frugal hedonism armour. Frolicking, indulging, cherishing, appreciating and getting pleasure from creative restraint.

The point is that so much of our consumption is automatic, habitual, and very joyless, designed to medicate and relief work-related stress and sadness. But, paradoxically, many of us work so many hours precisely so that we can continue to afford all that consumption. Can you see the vicious cycle? If we took some of our consumption habits out of the equation – those that really don’t serve us – we could reduce our baseline needs and working hours, or work in less well-paying but much more meaningful and satisfying jobs.

Image: Freestock @Unsplash