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Redefining American Fulfillment
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This summer, the U.S. turned 250. Across the country, parades were thrown and fireworks were lit in celebration of the ideas at the heart of the American experiment: freedom, opportunity, and self-determination. These are the values that have carried the country through centuries. They animated a revolution, survived a civil war, and pulled a nation through depression and hardship.
My team at SYLVAIN recognized this moment of celebration as equally ripe for reflection. Working alongside a handful of partners, we went out into the world to do a pulse-check on the state of American feelings and ambitions. Through our research––a 2,500-person national survey, interviews with experts, and 30-plus in-home interviews with everyday Americans––we found that our most common values have been pushed beyond their breaking points and are beginning to work against us. The country is reckoning with its most deeply entrenched ideals and renegotiating how to live them out in a world that feels very different from the world they were written in.
This concept of renegotiation takes on many different names within psychology and sociology, including cognitive restructuring, transformative learning, and resocialization. At the core of each of these terms is some form of two phases: unlearning and relearning. When we unlearn, we let go of beliefs and identities that no longer serve us, making space for us to relearn new values or new ways of embodying old values. One step cannot exist without the other. The literary world has its own version of this evolution, called “the belly of the whale”—that period in a hero’s journey where they must separate from the world they knew and prepare to emerge changed. But it’s not just theoretical or fantastical; it’s echoed in geopolitical moments across history, such as Reconstruction after the U.S. Civil War. In doing our research, we uncovered abundant evidence of unlearning and relearning in American society.
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We’ve pushed our values to the extreme.
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The two things Americans are most likely to name as core to the country are freedom (60%) and opportunity (42%). These are more than simple aspirations—they're baked into the founding mythology, reinforced through generations of schooling and culture, and amplified by brands and media into something closer to religion.
But these values have a dark side. When we internalize something deeply enough, for long enough, we stop questioning it. We become comfortable operating on autopilot, until the brokenness becomes too much to ignore.
Freedom, taken to its extreme, has produced isolation. Today, 63% of Americans say they feel lonely at least a few times a month. One in four feel lonely every single day. Only 31% say they felt seen or appreciated in the past month. Only 20% feel united with their fellow citizens by shared values. We learned to define our own paths so completely that we forgot we were on that path together.
Opportunity, taken to its extreme, produces exhaustion. Nearly half of Americans—46%—say they've felt exhausted in the past week. One in four say they've been so tired they could cry. Thirty-seven percent have, at some point, experienced a breakdown. The ethos of relentless self-improvement, pushed past its natural limit, has become self-harm, in the form of stress, debt, and the nagging feeling that no matter how hard you work, it's still not enough.
One respondent—Elena, 29, from Tulsa—put it plainly: “We tell ourselves, ‘Oh, I'm not working hard enough,’ or, ‘Hey, I'm in the hospital but I feel the need to hop on a Zoom call for work because otherwise I'm not a hard worker. I'm not dedicated enough.’” Again and again, we heard that foundational American values are at a tipping point.
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Faced with the uncomfortable work of unlearning.
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Psychologists and sociologists who study transformative learning—the theorist Jack Mezirow called it “perspective transformation”—describe it as a process that begins with a disorienting dilemma. Something happens that your existing framework can't explain or accommodate. A belief that once felt self-evident starts to crack.
America is experiencing a collective version of this. The cracking is visible in the data: 43% of Americans say people have lost consideration for others—the single biggest reason they feel negatively about the country. Three in four believe today's children will be financially worse off than their parents. Timothy P. Carney, author of “Alienated America,” said it directly in our interviews: “The general trajectory since World War II has been away from community and toward individualism. In the last 20 years, it's become clear we've gone too far.”
Unlearning, though, isn't just about recognizing the problem. It's about having the will—and the permission—to revise the script. That's harder than it sounds, because the script is also bound up in identity. To question extreme individualism isn’t just an economic or political position. It threatens something in the American self-concept.
And yet, more than half of the country appears to be embarking on this process, trying to figure out what a new American self-concept could look like.
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The majority of Americans are seeking equilibrium.
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The largest segment in our research—52% of Americans—is actively restructuring its value system. At the same time, the majority of them (71%) still see these core American values as important to their lives, and 68% say they're optimistic about America's future. Mixed emotions are a hallmark of liminal moments like these—they represent the confusing space that exists on the journey of unlearning and relearning.
In conversations with people from all different backgrounds, one theme rang more consistently and clearly than any other: Americans are redefining ambition. The top personal value Americans name today isn't opportunity or freedom—it's love. Emotional peace and joy rank alongside stable finances as indicators of success. Eighty four percent (84%) of Americans agree they don't need extravagance—they'd prefer a stable and comfortable life. Seventy percent (70%) say they're prioritizing mental health now more than ever. They're more likely to meditate, take social media breaks, and talk to strangers. These are indicators of a shift—away from the extreme version of our values system, toward equilibrium.
Agatha, 39, from Oak Park, Illinois: "We're trying to actively measure success on how we feel, and on our personal connections with our kids, our community, and our friends. That's a mindset shift from how I grew up."
We are in the midst of an unlearning curve––a gradual but consequential shift from accumulation toward meaning, from isolation toward solidarity, from more toward enough.
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Brands as a counterbalance.
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For decades, brands didn't just reflect these traditional American values—they accelerated them. Ambition and individual achievement were profitable, so brands amplified them. But today, Americans are seeking brands that will embark on the unlearning curve with them, not keep them locked in the same system they’re trying to revise.
This moment is both an opening and a test: people are noting whether brands flail or step up.
When we asked Americans what qualities they want from brands, only 15% said activism and just 11% said aspirational fantasy. Instead, at the top of the list is integrity, craftsmanship, and connection.
Anchoring in these values, we identified four paths for brands, ways to meet customers’ needs while simultaneously rewriting their own narratives. The Connector creates space for shared experience. The Artisan slows things down and insists on quality over quantity. The Relief offers levity and pause in a relentlessly pressured world. The Collectivist operates with integrity, prioritizing people and planet over short-term extraction.
When brands embody these archetypes, they can become counterbalances to the extreme state we find ourselves in. They can nudge culture back toward the equilibrium that people are already reaching for.
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America's 250th birthday is arriving at a strange and significant moment. The country is processing, collectively, the consequences of having learned its own values too well—of having taken freedom and opportunity to places they were never meant to go. And a majority of Americans are doing the hard work of revising those lessons.
Relearning, like all real growth, is uncomfortable. But it's also, ultimately, what progress looks like.
The question for brands isn't whether to be part of this shift. It's whether to lead it, or to be left behind still selling an America that Americans are leaving behind.
If you’re interested to hear more about this research and our thinking, please reach out.
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We're deeply grateful to our partners at kyu (kyu+, GDP, Upstatement, and Never Not Productions), Equation Research, and Nimbly, who put in countless hours to make this piece possible. On the SYLVAIN team, thanks to Merideth Bogard, Natalie Berry, Jillian Rosen, David Volle, Shannon Gerety, Chloe Sutter, Joanne Bolens, Ilana Bondell, Eliza Hadjis, Kayla Hunsel, Olivia Konys, Michael Kaye, and Joey Camire.
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Chris Konya is the Chief Strategy Officer at SYLVAIN. She has helped companies envision their futures through innovation, brand, and consumer-led strategy for twenty years. She leads teams with strong ambition, deep empathy, and insightful perspective in order to unearth strategically rigorous and delightfully unexpected solutions. Her work includes core product and brand strategies for The New York Times, Diageo, MoMA, PepsiCo, Amazon, Chanel, Olaplex, Marriott, Viacom, and BlackRock.
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Progress Report is a bi-weekly newsletter about business and culture. Consider it a break from the work and fuel for the work.
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