An upgrade is most exciting before it becomes normal.
The new phone feels remarkably fast for a few days. The hotel room earns a photograph before anyone has slept in the bed. Same-day delivery feels almost magical until the first order arrives late. A software feature saves ten minutes, then quietly becomes the minimum people expect.
The improvement can be real. So can the speed with which it disappears into ordinary life.
In The Divided Brain, I discuss the hedonistic treadmill: the tendency for gains and pleasures to become familiar, allowing expectations to reset around the new level. Yesterday’s delight becomes today’s baseline. Once that happens, the next improvement has to work harder to create the same emotional lift.
For brands, this creates a difficult temptation. If attention came from the last upgrade, launch, perk, or promotion, the obvious answer is to produce another one.
Then another.
Soon the brand is running just to keep the customer in the same emotional place.
Novelty has a short job.
Novelty is useful. It helps the Old Brain notice that something has changed. A new design, feature, package, or experience can interrupt familiarity long enough to earn attention. Anticipation can be part of the pleasure.
But attention is not the same as lasting value.
The Old Brain is sensitive to contrast. It notices the difference between what was expected and what arrived. As the improved experience becomes familiar, that contrast weakens. The New Brain may still be able to list the benefits, compare the specifications, and explain why the purchase was worthwhile. Yet the original feeling has settled down.
There is an evolutionary logic to this. Humans needed to notice changes in resources, threat, status, and opportunity. They also needed to adapt rather than remain overwhelmed by every improvement or setback. A mind that treated a reliable food source as astonishing every morning would not be using attention very efficiently.
That ability to adapt helped us survive and flourish. In modern markets, where companies can offer a constant stream of upgrades and rewards, the same tendency can turn improvement into expectation with surprising speed.
Escalation is an expensive promise.
A brand can train customers to value the spike instead of the substance.
Retailers do this when every week brings a new sale. The offer stops feeling generous and starts making the regular price feel artificial. Loyalty programs do it when each new tier adds another small perk but makes the basic experience feel deliberately incomplete. Technology companies do it when the launch presentation carries more emotional weight than the problem the product solves.
The pattern creates pressure inside the company as well. Teams begin asking, “What can we add?” before they ask whether customers are receiving the value already promised. More features arrive. The interface grows heavier. Service becomes harder to deliver. The excitement of the next announcement can hide a quieter decline in the everyday experience.
This is where behavioural branding matters. A brand is not only the feeling created at the moment of reveal. It is the pattern people live with after the reveal is over.
Durable value survives familiarity.
Some improvements keep mattering even when they stop feeling exciting.
A bank that makes an anxious financial task easier may no longer surprise the customer, but it still gives time and confidence back. A hotel may lose the novelty of its lobby, while a quiet room, a comfortable bed, and a thoughtful response at 2 a.m. continue to matter. A software tool may stop feeling fast because users have adapted to the speed, yet the hours it returns each month remain useful.
The emotional experience changes. The value does not disappear. It moves from delight toward relief, capability, trust, or a new sense of what is possible.
This is a better place for a brand to compete. The company is no longer trying to manufacture a permanent high. It is helping people live or work differently after the excitement has faded.
There is also a useful distinction between adaptation and ingratitude. Customers are not necessarily ungrateful when an improvement becomes expected. Their internal reference point has moved. If the brand understands that, it can resist resenting the customer or chasing applause. It can focus instead on whether the experience continues to do meaningful work.
Design for the morning after.
Before adding the next perk or feature, look at what remained from the last one.
Did it remove a recurring frustration, or did it create a brief moment of interest?
Did it help the customer become more capable, or did it give them one more thing to manage?
Did it strengthen the experience people return to, or did it make the next launch responsible for carrying the relationship?
Did the improvement become invisible because it now works naturally, or because it never mattered very much?
These questions change how value is measured. Immediate excitement can still be useful. It can earn attention and invite trial. But the longer test begins when nobody is taking a photograph, opening a launch email, or talking about the new feature.
What does the improvement make easier on an ordinary Tuesday?
The strongest brands do not ask customers to remain impressed forever. They create something worth keeping after the feeling of being impressed has passed.
Paul Larche is the author of The Divided Brain (CanReads 2026 Business/Marketing Winner | BookLife Prize 2025 Semifinalist, 10/10 Score, Editor’s Pick).