The school year has begun, and with it, the modern pilgrimage: backpacks packed like sacred bundles, alarms shrieking at dawn, bleary-eyed parents playing chauffeur, teens muttering half-prayers to the gods of caffeine. We are all, in some form, Sisyphus — condemned to roll our rocks uphill: GPAs, standardized tests, college applications, career ambitions, the pursuit of some elusive good life.
In 1971, Philip Brickman and Donald T. Campbell introduced the idea of the “hedonic treadmill” — that we are condemned to return, like elastic bands, to some baseline of happiness. The guru class of Instagram and TED Talks has milked this theory dry, promising mindfulness apps and breathing exercises to soothe us into acceptance. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: the treadmill is a lie. Or worse, it’s an excuse. We can actually change our lives. Happiness is not static, not ordained by evolution or the chemical cocktail sloshing in our skulls. It is earned — or perhaps stolen — by how we choose to live.
Part of our lives will also be Sisyphus. Tomorrow is today. We must trade time for money — that is the quiet promise of democracy. But that stability, the mundane structure of contracts and paychecks, contains a hidden gift: it buys us the chance for something more. Free time. Reflection. The space to decide not only what work we do, but what meaning we assign to the hours when we are not working. In that sliver of freedom lies the difference between existing and living.
The danger for teens, and for their parents, is to confuse achievement with meaning. Today’s jester has wealth but no satisfaction; today’s slave has desire without hope. The pursuit of success — grades, resumes, careers — is a hollow drumbeat if not paired with a deeper question: what does this effort afford you in terms of freedom, of soul?
Democracy was never designed to make us happy. Its ultimate promise is banal: to create a stable environment in which we can sign contracts without getting stabbed in the street. That’s it. And yet, beneath this scaffolding, Maslow’s hierarchy whispers: you deserve more. You deserve the chance not just to survive, but to self-actualize. Our parents fought wars and battled injustice; our battle is with the soul-crushing absurdity of chasing happiness in a system that confuses wealth for worth.
Parents, here is the challenge: resist the temptation to treat your child as a résumé-in-progress. Teens, resist the temptation to treat your life as a TikTok reel of curated ambition. The true rebellion — the one Kierkegaard might actually laugh at — is to live without needing to prove anything. To find joy in the uphill push itself. To see the absurdity, and still choose to laugh.
This school year, the question isn’t how many AP classes you can juggle, or which college bumper sticker ends up on the back of the family SUV. The question is: how will you define happiness on your own terms? Will you see the absurdity of politics, of wealth, of endless comparison — and choose instead a life of authenticity, where nothing needs to be proven?
That is the only test that matters. And no one — no teacher, no parent, no admissions committee — can grade it for you.
Brendan Ryan, who lives in Windermere, is an entrepreneur and freelance writer.
https://www.orlandosentinel.com/2025/10/05/commentary-the-school-year-of-sisyphus/