LIMITATIONS OF DIMINISHING MARGINAL UTILITY — THROUGH SPORTS!
Riya Raheja & Anwesha Ghosh
SY BSc Economics, 2023-2027
Estimated Reading time: 3 minutes
The Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility (DMU) is one of the first and most fundamental theories students encounter in economics. It states that as we consume more of something, the satisfaction we derive from each additional unit tends to decrease. For instance, imagine sitting down with a cheesy 6-slice pizza. The first slice is heavenly, the second is still satisfying, the third starts to feel average, and by the fifth, you might be reconsidering your choices. That’s DMU in action — the marginal utility diminishes with every additional slice consumed. But this well-accepted economic principle begins to blur when viewed through the lens of sports. Take football or cricket: each goal, point, or run doesn’t reduce the player’s desire — it fuels it. Rather than feeling satisfied and slowing down, players become more energised and determined after each success. Does this mean the law fails to apply in such contexts, or does it suggest that the scope of economics itself might need revisiting?
To understand this better, let’s return to the origins. Alfred Marshall, one of the founding figures of neoclassical economics, described the law as “the additional benefit which a person derives from an increase of his stock of a thing diminishes with every increase in the stock that he already has.” He defined utility as the “want-satisfying power of a commodity.” Both definitions reflect a framework built around tangible consumption — commodities like food, fuel, or fabric, where quantity can be easily measured, and the diminishing satisfaction from each unit makes intuitive sense. The theory made perfect sense in the context of 19th-century industrial life, where economics revolved heavily around goods and consumption.
Now let’s revisit the sports example. In a 90-minute football game, players are intensely focused on scoring. When a goal is scored, the player’s satisfaction doesn’t plateau — it spikes. The second or third goal doesn’t bring less satisfaction — it multiplies. Motivation climbs, adrenaline kicks in, and the will to outperform intensifies, and dopamine throws a cup of cold coffee at Diminishing Marginal Utility. The marginal utility seems to rise, contradicting the very core of the law. Consider one of the most famous moments in sports history: Michael Jordan’s “Flu Game” in Game 5 of the 1997 NBA Finals. Battling exhaustion and illness, Jordan scored 38 points, securing a critical win for the Chicago Bulls. This was not a case of diminishing satisfaction — each basket appeared to carry even more psychological weight. As the pressure increased, so did his intensity. The more he achieved, the more meaningful each point became — driven by team loyalty, championship legacy, and sheer willpower. The utility here was not about consuming more but about achieving and becoming more, defying physical limits, and etching greatness into memory. It’s an example where marginal utility doesn’t fall — it accelerates.
So, can we stretch the law’s assumptions to make it fit better? Suppose we broaden the definition of utility to include intangible or symbolic goods, such as status, recognition, or legacy, perhaps similar to Veblen goods, such as whose value is tied to social signaling rather than functional use. Could that explain the athlete’s rising satisfaction? Not quite. Even Veblen goods, though less conventional, still fall under the umbrella of consumption-driven economics. They operate on the logic of acquisition and comparison, not purpose or psychological growth.
In sports, the utility derived is not from acquiring more of something but from doing better, achieving more, breaking limits, and moving closer to victory. This is a kind of utility that isn’t consumed — it’s experienced. It escalates, not diminishes. Even when stretched to include intangible gains like fame or social status, the law remains rooted in the idea that repetition reduces value. But sports prove otherwise: the value of success may grow with each repetition — each win, each goal, each milestone.
So, what do we learn from this? This isn’t a rejection of the law, but a stress test of its boundaries. DMU explains a great deal about consumer behavior, but it begins to falter in contexts where motivation is psychological, symbolic, or purpose-driven. The law assumes we tire of more, but in sports, ambition makes us crave more. The lesson isn’t that the law is wrong, but that economic theory needs to stretch further, beyond consumption, beyond goods, into realms where identity, purpose, and emotional highs shape utility. Sports give us a powerful lens to understand where classical economic theory stops and human motivation begins.