The Joy Illusion

(How Social Media made #joy a game that can’t be won)

by Jett Dunlap

“I’m allowing myself to still experience joy.”

That’s what an A-list actor said recently in an interview. I don’t know her personally, but from what I’ve seen, she seems like one of the good ones. Her identity isn’t important (though it wouldn’t be hard to find). What matters is the weight of that statement—‘allowing herself to experience joy’. Not just another celebrity platitude, but a public confession; one that I’ve been hearing over and over.

In 2024, a presidential candidate even ran on the promise of “bringing back joy.” It didn’t work out for her, but the message stuck. Somewhere along the way, joy became a commodity; something that could be promised, pursued, and inevitably, lost.

This isn’t new. We’ve been sold this before… Car ads, potato chips, Coca-Cola campaigns—Madison Avenue has been pitching us joy for decades. But here’s the difference: Back then, we knew it was a sales pitch (no one actually believed a bottle of soda would change their life).

The Algorithm Knows You Better than You Do

Social media changed everything. It didn’t just blur the line between advertisement and reality—it erased it. The people on your phone aren’t actors on a set; they’re real. They live where you live. They’re just like you.

They go to places you go, just nicer.

They talk about things you care about, just better.

They share your struggles, just more elegantly. 

And somehow, even though they’re constantly busy, they’re having more fun than you. You don’t think you’re being sold something—you just think you’re behind.

At first, you follow them because they seem interesting… Then, something shifts.

You start posting in their style. You don’t mean to—it just happens. You start wondering: ‘Why can’t I have it all?’ It would be incredible to get paid to go on vacations. You work hard. You take better pictures, study the angles, you buy a ring light and make sure to post at the perfect time of day. You even set a reminder on your phone: *Must post between 11am and 2pm on Wednesday! 

The Likes roll in. The comments light up.

‘Love your new look!’

‘So jealous—you guys are living the dream!’

It looks like this is really gonna happen for you.

And just like that, you feel it: Dopamine. A synthetic hit of validation.

But here’s where it turns.

Your next post has to do better than the last. It’s not a rational thought; it’s an instinct. The algorithm has led you (just as it was designed to). You aren’t just scrolling and posting; you’re being trained.

The Happiness Paradox

Psychologists have long studied the paradox of happiness—the more you chase it, the more elusive it becomes. Research published in the Journal of Happiness Studies found that people who value happiness too highly often set unrealistic expectations, leading to chronic dissatisfaction. The pursuit itself creates a gap between expectation and reality, triggering a cycle of disappointment.

Social media didn’t create this psychological flaw, but it did find a way to exploit it.

Dr. Anna Lembke, a psychiatrist and addiction specialist at Stanford University, explains that social media platforms exploit the brain’s dopamine system similarly to gambling. The anticipation of receiving Likes and comments triggers dopamine release, creating a cycle of craving and reward that can lead to addictive behaviors.  

Unlike chasing money, success, or the perfect body (goals that, however difficult, at least have some roadmap) chasing social media success is chasing smoke. Even when you do achieve a moment of validation, it’s never enough.

Your brain has already recalibrated. What was once thrilling is now the baseline. More followers, more engagement, more joy—you will always need more. But it’s not your fault, you didn’t know. 

The Power of ‘Type 2’ Fun

Here’s a question I used to ask my clients: Name three incredible weekends from two years ago.

No one could.

But if I asked them about an accomplishment (running a marathon, learning a new skill, completing a major project), they’d have an answer almost instantly.

There’s a reason for this.

Happiness in the moment is fleeting. What sticks—what defines a life—is struggle followed by achievement. Psychologists call this “Type 2 Fun”. It’s the kind of fun that sucks while you’re doing it (like climbing a mountain in freezing temperatures) but gives you a deep, lasting satisfaction afterward.

I know this firsthand. Last year, my wife and I climbed Mount Whitney—the tallest mountain in the continental United States—in a single day. A 14,500-foot peak that covers over 21 miles. It was brutal. The altitude hit hard, the exhaustion was real, and at some point, every part of my body was screaming to turn back. But we didn’t.

And now? That climb is burned into my memory. Not because it was fun in the moment, but because it was so difficult. It truly meant something. And at the end, when you’re driving home, you think: ‘I was there. I did that’.

This is what social media mimics without ever delivering a true experience. It presents a curated version of accomplishment—filtered, effortless, always just within reach. But real meaning comes from friction, from effort, from putting something on the line.

The Solution Isn’t Deleting Instagram

Look, I’m not saying you should throw your phone in the ocean. Technology isn’t the villain here… misuse is. Cars revolutionized travel, but they also kill millions of people a year. It’s not a matter of whether cars are good or bad, it’s about driving safely.

The key isn’t abandoning social media—it’s understanding it. Mindfulness isn’t sitting cross-legged and humming; it’s about awareness. When you understand how dopamine systems work, how engagement algorithms manipulate your brain, and how real happiness is built over time—you gain control.

You stop being a rat in someone else’s maze.

You start choosing your moments instead of performing them.

Joy is not a goal. It’s not something to be pursued, promised, or optimized.

It’s a byproduct of meaning. Real meaning isn’t found in Likes, Follows, or perfectly curated vacation photos. It’s found in the work, the sweat, the struggle—the things that take time but leave a mark. Because, in the end, no one remembers the weekend they spent scrolling Instagram. They remember the marathon they ran, the new friendship they made, or the mountain they climbed.

And that is the only kind of joy worth chasing.