I am an adult, and I am proud to admit that I am currently in the midst of completing two “sticker challenges”—one at my gym and another at the library. The rules are simple: Show up for class or read a book, and paste a sticker down on a bingo square. Each completed “bingo” is a raffle ticket for a prize, and a full “perfect bingo” puts you in the drawing for an even more special one.
Now, if I am to be quite honest with myself, it appears to me that the stickers are what motivate me more than the final reward itself. I know that winning a raffle is very unlikely, even with multiple entries, but a sticker is a simple, tangible, visible reinforcement of the fact that I showed up and took a challenging workout class, or finished a book. And sometimes that is all it takes.
This is, on the surface of it, a slightly embarrassing thing to admit. Adults are supposed to be motivated by loftier things: health, discipline, intellectual enrichment, personal growth, and perhaps a deep commitment to becoming the best version of oneself. And yet, here I am, arranging my week so that I can earn a sticker.
What Makes Stickers So Effective?
Perhaps a sticker is rarely just a sticker.
For adults, small rewards can compress several motivational signals into one tiny object: I made progress. It is noticeable. I belong here. I can do this. The prize is uncertain and distant. The sticker is immediate and definite.
Self-determination theory, one of the most influential theories of human motivation, suggests that people are more likely to stay motivated when three basic psychological needs are met: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Autonomy is the feeling that we are choosing what we do, competence is the feeling that we are improving, and relatedness is the feeling that we are connected to other people.
A sticker challenge can, surprisingly enough, meet all three needs. I choose to attend the workout class or read the book, so there is autonomy. The sticker provides evidence that I have completed one more step, so there is competence. And because other people are participating in the same challenge, there is relatedness, too. We are all, in some small and slightly silly way, doing this together.
This might explain why badges, progress bars, and streaks are everywhere now. Fitness apps congratulate us for moving. Language apps celebrate our streaks. Coffee shops reward us with stars. We may not always call these things stickers, but psychologically, many of them do the same work. They make progress visible.
And visibility matters because so many adult goals are invisible while we are in the middle of pursuing them. We do not become healthier after one workout. We do not become well-read after one book. We do not become calmer after one meditation session. Adult life is full of effort whose rewards are delayed, ambiguous, or impossible to measure in the moment.
The sticker, then, is not the real reward. It is a tiny piece of evidence.
A sticker chart converts an abstract process into something concrete. I can look at the bingo square and say, “There. I did that.” The larger goal may be months away, but the sticker arrives now. And the human brain seems to like such immediate signals.
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Potential Downsides of Small Rewards
Of course, not all rewards are created equal. A sticker can motivate, but it can also annoy. A badge can feel encouraging, but it can also feel manipulative. The difference may lie in whether the reward feels like acknowledgment or control.
If I were forced to attend a class and then handed a sticker in a tone that suggested I should be grateful for it, I suspect I would suddenly become much less fond of stickers. This is the tricky thing about extrinsic rewards: They work best when they support our internal motivation rather than replace it.
The reward itself may matter less than the story we attach to it. A dollar given as a bonus might feel insulting. A handwritten note might make someone’s week. A cheap sticker from a beloved teacher, trainer, librarian, therapist, or friend might carry more emotional weight than a more expensive but impersonal prize.
The Meaning Behind a Reward
Perhaps we should not be so quick to dismiss these small forms of motivation as childish. The adult world often asks us to keep going without much acknowledgment. We send emails, meet deadlines, care for children, exercise, cook, clean, pay bills, manage relationships, all with very few gold stars along the way.
No wonder a sticker feels good.
The challenge, then, is not to eliminate small rewards from adult life in the name of maturity. A good small reward should not make us feel controlled, or dependent on praise for every action. It should function as a marker, a nudge, a visible sign of invisible effort.
I do not know whether I will win either raffle. Statistically speaking, probably not. But I do know that I have gone to classes I might otherwise have skipped, and read books that might otherwise have sat in a pile by my bedside, making me feel vaguely guilty. And I know that each sticker has given me a small, almost absurd amount of satisfaction.
Maybe the reason adults still like stickers is not that we never grew up. Maybe it is that grown-up life gives us too few visible signs that our effort counts.