Saying No to New Gadgets Before Debt Grows

An editor at The New York Times argues that modern shopping has erased the friction that once protected people from impulse purchases—setting the stage for a dopamine-driven cycle. His book, Saying No to New, makes the case for pausing before buying, favoring

When Eric Athas talks about gadgets, he doesn’t sound like someone who’s grown bored of shiny things. He sounds like someone who knows exactly how fast “new” can turn into a habit.

Athas, an editor at The New York Times and the author of the upcoming book Saying No to New, says he used to wait in line for new iPhones. That lifelong early adopter—someone who clearly understands the thrill of getting the latest—now argues for thinking twice before buying yet another thing.

His core point lands on a simple truth: the modern path between wanting something and getting it has collapsed.

Today, you can tap on a phone and have the item arrive the next day. You can even buy now and pay later, so cash doesn’t stop you. And the next step. Athas argues. is even more automatic: AI agents that shop for you proactively. anticipating what you want so you don’t have to make any decision at all.

Athas calls this the collapse of the “new-thing gap”—the shrinking time. distance. and cost between seeing something new and acquiring it. In his view, that gap used to protect people from impulse buying. One-click ordering removed the distance. Free shipping erased the pickup errand. Deferred payments removed financial friction; you don’t even need the money.

The fix, in his telling, is not to declare a war on novelty. It’s to reintroduce friction—pausing long enough to ask whether the new thing will actually matter a month from now.

The argument becomes concrete when you look at the “gadget graveyards” Athas and the writer describe, the kind that tend to accumulate quietly in drawers and in-house museums.

From the writer’s desk. there are multiple VR headsets—at least three. including one with the plastic still on it. The setup involves slotting your phone in and closing it up to get an immersive view. The article recalls that The New York Times announced in 2015 it would ship a million Google Cardboard VR headsets. and Athas confirms the headset now lives in The Times’s in-house museum.

There’s also a Lumo posture band, a sensor belt that buzzed when the writer slouched. It was a cool, if weird, concept, but the buzzing was distracting; the product was discontinued. It has lived in a drawer for years.

Then comes a Plaud AI recorder next to the writer’s brother’s old tape recorder. The old device has a red Record button, a Play button, and a Stop button. The Plaud is sleeker but less intuitive.

Some items do stick. A sand timer is both decorative and useful—silent, easy to use for timing, and never needs to be charged. The writer uses it to stay focused during hard tasks.

Athas’s side of the comparison is equally telling. He has a USB coffee mug warmer that’s cracked and unused, and he argues that once you introduce a USB cord into the coffee experience, it loses its magic.

He also has NeeDoh stress balls—part of a kid craze. His children wanted them, squeezed them for a day, and abandoned them. He wrote about the NeeDoh fad here. The article also adds that Consumer Reports warns these can create a sticky mess or worse.

This is where the book’s message sharpens. Saying no to new gadgets isn’t about rejecting everything. It’s about choosing thoughtfully so genuinely useful tools don’t get crowded out.

Athas highlights tools that have solved a real problem and lasted.

Seek app is free and lets you point your phone at any plant or animal in nature to learn what it is. The writer says they discovered it during the pandemic and still use it regularly.

Merlin app is free as well. It records birdsong and identifies the species. Both Athas and the writer are fans.

Granola is described as AI meeting summaries. The writer says it’s now part of their workflow, not novelty. It’s free for basic transcriptions and summaries, while the writer pays $14 per month for additional features such as storing meeting notes for months and querying them with Claude.

What these tools share—according to the writer’s framing—is durability: they solve a real problem, they’ve lasted, and they’re the kind of thing you actually keep using.

That durability matters because novelty, Athas argues, hits the brain in a specific way. His book is grounded in neuroscience. When we encounter something new, we get a dopamine hit. The article describes dopamine as an evolved response that helped ancestors survive by rewarding discoveries like new food sources. new paths. and new shelter.

But the reward system doesn’t always require meaning. Sometimes novelty can seduce without delivering anything substantial.

In one study Athas describes, rats repeatedly crossed an electrified grid just to explore an unfamiliar area. They chose pain plus novelty over a known food source. Humans do something similar, the article says. The writer explains that people covet a new phone partly for its camera. but partly because it’s new—then repeat the cycle. even if they can’t afford it. The article notes this as one reason so many Americans are in debt.

The dopamine push isn’t just described; it’s tied to other research and reading. The writer says they recently read Dopamine Nation by Dr. Anna Lembke, about how brains are readily seduced by pleasure.

The result, as the article paints it, is a cycle of brief enjoyment followed by scanning for the next new thing.

Daniel Kahneman’s work is brought in through the “hedonic treadmill” effect. His research, as described here, shows people overestimate how much a new purchase will improve how they feel, and that novelty wears off quickly. Kahneman called it “hedonic adaptation.”

The takeaway isn’t “avoid all new things.” It’s to think carefully about whether something meaningful is behind the new shine.

The book also turns toward what tends to last longer than products: experiences.

The article says research shows trips. cooking classes. concerts. and other new experiences give more lasting delight than new products do. Experiences are often social—going with someone, meeting people, talking about it afterward. Trips have a beginning, middle, and end, giving you a story you can retell. A new pan doesn’t generate much conversation after the first week; its novelty fades fast.

Kahneman’s “comforts versus pleasure” theory is used as a lens on spending. Comforts are things people buy and then quickly adapt to, like a nicer couch or a bigger TV: great at first, then fading into the background.

Pleasures are described as transient experiences—like a delicious dinner with friends. a live concert. surprise flowers. or a summer walk with someone you love in a new city. These pleasures are brief but retain emotional charge when you reflect back. The article frames Kahneman’s argument as supported by numerous studies: pleasures enhance happiness more durably than comforts because people don’t adapt to them.

The writer adds a practical suggestion: if you’re drawn to something new, try turning the purchase into a social experience—waiting in line with a friend for trendy cookies, for example—so the buying excursion becomes a shared memory rather than a dopamine chase.

Daniel Pink also enters the story through a recent video, described as making a compelling case for spending money in ways that actually make people happier. The writer says Pink’s take aligns with Athas’s and Kahneman’s: spend on experiences, not things.

So what should you do when the urge to buy hits? Athas suggests specific questions before acquiring something new.

First: Will you still use it in a month? The writer adds this is the question they use for temptations like a kitchen gadget or an iPhone app.

Second: Is it intuitive to use? Athas points to modern car dashboards as a cautionary tale: futuristic-looking touchscreens can end up more confusing than the knobs and buttons they replaced.

Third: Is it likely to distract you? The article contrasts a sand timer, a paper book, a physical photograph—things that do one job well without pinging—with single-purpose apps that can put you one swipe away from email, Instagram, and other Internet rabbit holes.

Athas also pushes a simple idea: good enough sometimes is enough.

His coffee maker still works. He programs it at night, wakes up to fresh coffee, and resists upgrading because it does exactly what he needs. The writer says Athas’s wife wants him to upgrade. but he resists not out of stubbornness. but because the existing machine is sufficient. The suggestion: before replacing something, ask whether what you already have is still good enough. Something better always exists. but if the upgrade is only about novelty. it might not be worth the effort. expense. or space.

Even in the digital world, the article says, the clutter doesn’t always feel like physical clutter. The writer says they have more than 600 apps on their phone but only use a small fraction regularly. They’ve realized going back and manually deleting unused apps is a waste of time. Unlike the physical world, unused things don’t take up much space. And the writer describes going back to delete emails or apps one by one as feeling like more of a waste than leaving them in the graveyard.

Paper, quiet, and small frictions are a theme that runs through the later sections.

The article says about two-thirds of Americans still read books on paper despite ebooks. Part of the appeal is sensory: the way pages turn. how a book feels in your hands. and the smell of paper. But it’s also about the absence of notifications. A paper book doesn’t send notifications and offers no tempting apps.

The same applies to vinyl records, Polaroid photos, sand timers, and handwritten journals, each of which supports deep focus without constant prompts.

The writer recalls learning photography from their grandfather using a Minolta camera. The quality doesn’t match that of an iPhone, but the writer says old objects like the Minolta have intrinsic value beyond their function—like a hand-me-down camera being a reminder of love.

They also describe their own photo abundance: more than 50,000 photos on their phone. That abundance, the writer says, devalues each individual image. When film was limited and developing took days, every picture felt more precious. Anticipating which pictures might turn out was part of the thrill. They don’t want to return to that era. but they say the photos their wife and they printed and framed mean more than many images in their camera roll.

The book closes on something harder to measure but easy to feel: influence.

In Athas’s last chapter, the article says, he explores invisible influence. If friends are constantly upgrading devices, apps, or homes, you may feel pulled to keep pace. But the reverse also holds: choosing to stick with what you have quietly signals to other people that it’s okay to keep the old thing and skip the trend.

The pressure to upgrade isn’t just personal. It becomes social—like a current running through groups, sometimes faster than anyone realizes.

And that circles back to Athas’s central remedy. With the “new-thing gap” gone—one-click ordering, free shipping, deferred payments, and the looming presence of AI shopping agents that decide for you—the pause may be the last protection people have.

Ask what will matter in a month. Check whether it’s intuitive. Notice whether it pulls you away from what you meant to do. Choose tools that last—and let quiet, friction, and real meaning take the lead.

Eric Athas Saying No to New gadgets consumer behavior dopamine hedonic treadmill hedonic adaptation Kahneman experiences vs products Seek app Merlin app Granola AI meeting summaries Minolta camera