Why we can't stop keeping up with the Joneses — even when it leaves us broke

Bad news. If your neighbour wins the lottery this week, you might go broke.  

Researchers say you are 2.4% more likely to declare bankruptcy for every $1000 won within your postal code. So your neighbour’s windfall could be your downfall, simply from trying to keep up. 

“Like frogs not leaping from soon-to-be-boiling pots of water, [people] begin to follow the consumption habits of their newly wealthy neighbors,” says personal finance author Andrew Hallam in his book Balance. “No, it doesn’t make sense. But people still do it.”

You're probably smarter than this. You probably don't love being compared to frogs either. On one level, we all know it doesn’t make sense. Money doesn’t buy happiness is a cliché for a reason.

But we still do it, whether or not our neighbours win.

62% of Gen Z and 44% of millennials say they feel financial pressure to keep up with friends or family, which can lead to overspending, debt, and major impacts on financial and mental health. The data paints a bleak picture: keeping up with the Joneses has been linked to everything from chronic stress, depression and anxiety, to relationship struggles, workaholism, shame, gambling, and - of course - bankruptcy.

We know it doesn’t make sense. We’re smarter than this. So why do we do it?

Money Myths

“[People] have become so indoctrinated with the idea that having money is important, that they no longer question why,” says financial psychologist Bradley T. Klontz. “They are unaware that perhaps what they are truly seeking is an increase in self-respect, or security, or freedom, or love, or power.”

Keeping up with the Joneses is about more than jealousy. It’s about chasing what money and creature comforts represent.

As a psychotherapist, a big part of my work is helping clients dig up the hidden narratives, beliefs, and expectations that drive their feelings and behaviours, to honestly evaluate the impact these stories have on their lives. When it comes to money, we all inherit deeply entrenched beliefs that, when left unexamined, can hijack our behaviour and spending.

Culturally, we’re inundated with ideologies that have subconsciously suckered us into conflating self-worth and net worth. 

The American Dream and hustle culture say you can go from rags to riches - if you’re willing to work for it.

Meritocracy and social Darwinism - two ideas that permeate modern politics - treat wealth as a natural byproduct of strength and talent, and poverty as a warranted outcome for the weak.

The prosperity gospel preaches that health and wealth are given to good and faithful followers, like a spiritual loyalty rewards program.

And being a “real man” is so tightly linked to breadwinning that financial strain makes men 16 times more likely to have suicidal thoughts. 

Simply put, we're swimming in narratives that say wealth is a sign of intelligence, hard work, and strength, and - implicitly - that having less is a direct result of laziness, inferiority, and poor character. As Ron Swanson of Parks and Recreation said, “Capitalism [is] God’s way of determining who is smart, and who is poor.”

It’s why researchers see a link between chronic self-doubt and materialism. Internalizing these money myths makes us believe that having more will make us more. 

But it's a self-defeating approach. 

Self-worth dependent on what we make and what we have will fluctuate constantly - there will always be new Joneses for both you and your new-money neighbours, so we’ll always be able to find a reason we’re falling behind.

And in the end, it will only make that self-doubt worse. Making more and buying more to feel better works momentarily, but ultimately reinforces the core belief that you are inherently not enough. Self-doubt leads to consumption which leads to more self-doubt, and on and on in an addictive spiral.

Alarm Bells

Again, on one level, we’re smarter than this.

But on another level, we’re wired for it. 

Our survival used to rely on staying connected to groups. We depended on our tribes for food, protection, and community. Our brains, bodies, and nervous systems have evolved to see status as the key to inclusion and safety, and rejection as a life-or-death threat. 

So when we have less than the people around us - and when we’ve learned this makes us less valuable - it can set off alarm bells. The same wiring that once helped us survive can now leave us anxious, constantly questioning where we stand, whether we measure up, and whether or not we're valued. 

Times have changed - you won’t die if your neighbour has a Vitamix and you don’t - but our nervous systems have yet to figure this out. So it's easy to fall into the trap (i.e. the pot of boiling water) of believing that making, buying, and having more is the cure. 

But it doesn’t work. 

“Acquiring status markers, we believe, will make us worthy of the human connection we crave,” says Jennifer Breheny-Wallace in her book Never Enough. “This approach can backfire… people who prioritize materialistic goals tend to have weaker, more transactional relationships.”

A Faulty Premise

If you’re keeping tabs, keeping up with the Joneses leads to debt, anxiety, stress, shallow relationships, poor self-esteem, and more. 

If the goal is to increase confidence, connection, and contentment it backfires spectacularly on all fronts, because it’s based on a faulty premise.

“Many people are happy to mistake a lucky poker hand for their own brilliance,” said Conan O’Brien in his 2026 Harvard commencement speech. “Fighting that human urge has kept me sane.” 

Talent, smarts, and hustle may play a role in wealth. But so do luck, timing, your industry, race, sex, gender, and - let’s face it - family.

So it works both ways: it's just as misguided to mistake an average hand for inadequacy. 

Net worth is a warped metric for self-worth, making keeping up with the Joneses more con than cure. 

For the last time: we’re smarter than this. But that doesn’t always matter. 

We still do it. 

And we'll keep doing it, unless we can uncover the hidden scripts within us that tether self-worth to money. This is where therapy can help. I’m biased (and available), but exposing these stories can give us back control, agency, and a chance to connect our worth to something more secure. 

The stress and self-doubt you feel when your neighbour buys a car, leaves on a cruise, or - God forbid - wins the lottery, are natural reactions. 

But fighting that human urge to keep up will keep you sane - and solvent.

Next
Next

Still Standing: Phoebe Bridgers and Grieving Complicated Relationships