We Like Stuff

Human beings developed and evolved by being toolmakers. Our ancient, ancient ancestors succeeded by using small and simple tools to make their survival easier. Little axes and hammers to help hunt and gather. Eventually those tools became more and more complex, allowing for more to be done. Eventually, we had fire to cook our food and eat more easily. We were able to spend less caloric energy on eating and spend more of it thinking. The more we thought, the better life got. We built the wheel. Then we built New York City. Then we got Hamilton; both the person and the musical. We built them in that order, with absolutely no other inventions or developments in between.

Human beings developed by being toolmakers, and because of that, human beings like stuff. We like objects that we can hold, use, and keep. They make us feel safe and fulfilled in a way that is often hard for us to describe. They can be useful, or they can be fun. Sometimes, they can be both. Sometimes, they’re neither, but they’re sentimental nonetheless. Stuff is how we evolved, and stuff is how we achieve satisfaction. Or so we think.

Today, there is too much stuff. Our stuff is so plentiful that it’s no longer as meaningful, no longer as effective. Our stuff has gone from being nice, to only looking nice. It’s less expensive to make, therefore less expensive to buy, but also lesser quality than the stuff we used to have. It doesn’t matter if it is a tool or a toy, it is not what it used to be.

This is not all our fault. After all, we do not control the people who make our stuff, or how they do so. We do not control that our money is worth less today than yesterday, or that (pound for pound) we earn less of it. But if there were no market for cheap clothes, they would not sell cheap clothes. If there were no market for tools that break, there would be no tools that break (when handled properly by a person who knows how to use it, which is usually not me).

Think about the shoes in your closet. If you’re like me, you have a few pairs for a few occasions. Shoes to run in, shoes to work in, shoes to be casual, shoes to be cool, shoes to look fancy and shoes to be comfy. All of the shoes. I like having shoes for different purposes and outfits, but how many is too many? And what kind of shoes should I fill my floor with?

There was a time that I was in the habit of buying cheap shoes that looked cool (so I thought, but I am sure that more often than not I was wrong), and a lot of them. Many more than was necessary by any means. I thought I was saving money because they were cheaper, but how many would I need to buy until that was no longer the case? And what about when they wore down so quickly (which they did), and I found myself replacing them as often as I was buying them (which, stupidly, I did)? It took me moving to a new home and wanting to pack as little as possible to realize I had too many shoes, and too much stuff, so I made a change. A change that I try to uphold, even though I do fail and need to recommit every so often. After all, I am a human who likes stuff.

That change is a simple one: Buy less, and in doing so, buy more. If it’s not something that I need, I often opt not to buy it. With the money saved, I can buy less stuff, that I actually need, which is higher quality, therefore worth the higher expense. And this stuff will last longer, requiring less replacement, and the cycle of having less, better stuff sustains itself.

I will not lie as if I never buy anything purely out of a want. It is nice to treat yourself. I like buying clothes that make me feel cool, or gadgets that sound like fun toys to mess around with. But when you give yourself too many treats, too much stuff, it’s hard to know the difference between the treat and your lifestyle. It becomes harder to appreciate your treats when they are no longer treats. Instead, what should be a special occasion is just another day of collecting stuff with no purpose. And suddenly, your closet is filled with clothes you don’t wear. Your home is filled with things you don’t use. Your garage is filled with stuff you don’t need. And when a need comes knocking at your door, you may have a harder time affording it because you spent all of your money on your wants.

The best things in life are free. That’s a hard concept to fully buy into when stuff is so freaking fun. Human beings have developed and evolved to like stuff, it is in our nature. But it is also up to us to look at the unnatural ways we now obtain and collect stuff, and to think about a better way forward. When those ancient, ancient ancestors of ours collected stuff, they could not open an app on their phone and order it with next day delivery. Heck, if you tried to explain that entire concept to them right down to the smartphone, they would think you were crazy, or possessed, and you would have a whole other problem on your hands.

But I digress, they had to find their materials and build their stuff. It was hard. They had to earn every tool and toy. And in more ways than one, they were better off for it. That’s something that the modern comforts of life have taken away from us: The sense of truly earning every item that we might like to have, and putting in great amounts of effort to not only build it by hand in the first place, but to maintain it as it wore down, and fix it when it broke. The appreciation for stuff you build by hand is far deeper than that which you order by hand. Further, in the whole history of humanity, that is a change that has only happened relatively recently.

It’s hard to commit to this solution when all the stuff you could ever ask for is just a click away from your doorstep. It’s also unrealistic for us to say we can build everything we need by hand. No, there are professionals who make a living by providing good quality stuff to their customers. The answer should not be to leave them hanging out to dry.

So maybe the answer is to really ask ourselves why we are buying the new thing. Once we have assessed whether our reasoning is valid or impulsive, we can make a sound decision. Then, we can ask ourselves where we are buying it from, and who is getting our money in the process. After all, we have a choice in which businesses we support, both big and small. Our stuff can be more than just stuff if we take a little more care in buying it, and a little more effort in researching it. And once our stuff is ours, we should not aim to replace it at the first sign of wear and tear. Instead, maybe we can find better ways to care for our stuff, fix our stuff, or find someone who can fix it well for us.

Maybe that is how we make our ancestors proud: By giving our stuff the little extra effort it deserves. The easy way out is to demand more stuff, at our doorstep faster, at a cheaper price. It is a lot harder to be hesitant about new stuff, and to take our time thinking and planning before we invest in our stuff (And we should think of it as an investment, not an impulse buy; even for the small purchases). But Tom Hanks said it best when he said the following quote in a totally unrelated context from A League of Their Own: “It’s supposed to be hard. It’s the hard that makes it good.” Besides, even if it is harder to show restraint and be more intentional in the stuff we get, it is still a heck of a lot easier than our ancient, ancient ancestors had it when they wanted new stuff.