Good Materialism—a gentler relationship with stuff
The key point is that you can imagine yourself using it with ease and that the thing can fit into your life.
The key point is that you can imagine yourself using it with ease and that the thing can fit into your life.
When I was still a civil servant, there was a period of time I kept buying things (usually mechanical keyboard related) and doing calculations to haggle with myself over “how much I can spend this month.” I believed I really loved the stuff.
Nonetheless, the desire to buy stuff tripped me into a cycle of saving, buying and calculating. It promised satisfaction, but it’s only fleeting. Worse, it felt wrong. Collecting a dozen mechanical keyboards isn’t how I operate. I lost sight of what’s important to me. I want a calmer life, free of the tug of war against yourself (and my grand plan to save aggressively).
The idea of minimalism once seemed promising to me, but it feels off to claim we shouldn’t love stuff at all, not to mention throwing out “sentimental items” (that made me regret a lot). After all, I do love and appreciate some of the stuff that serve me well.
What does it mean to love stuff, really?
Is it just superficial emphasis on materials? A cold-hearted person lack of empathy for living human-beings?
In the end, I discovered the philosophy that works better for me. It is called “good materialism,” an idea I came across in A Simpler Life by The School of Life.
With good materialism, I pay attention to the message the items are sending to us. I get to properly appreciate the things I own, so that I don’t end up buying a lot of stuff that I know I will soon replace with something else.
Standards for Good Materialism
There are a few things I consider when I purchase a thing:
- Aesthetics (this directly affects how I feel about it when I use it)
- Durability
Sometimes when we make purchases, it’s not base on comprehensive reasoning. We are confused as what we are seeking in stuff. And that’s when we get tripped and have buyer’s remorse later.
Here, I would like to use some of my own examples to elaborate how I implement those principles.
Good Purchases I made
Some stuff I enjoy using:
- Bellroy OG sling bag. I like its simplicity, and I like how it’s not designed to fit everything, but to fit a selected few. I picked the dark blue one so when it gets dirty I won’t notice, which is partly what “durability” means for me. I use it every day, on both workdays and on weekends, and I’d love to use it for as long as possible.
- My Logi lift mouse. It’s well built. I Bought it for its “Smartwheel” function, which enables me to scroll webpages and PDF files faster at work.
- My customized mechanical keyboard. I handpicked the keycaps, the switches, and selected carbon fiber plate that would produce satisfying clacky sounds. It’s a joy whenever I type with it.
You will notice that those things aren’t exactly the cheapest options. However, they fit into my life perfectly. They are my daily drive, and they are durable. I can easily imagine myself using them for years, which eventually saves me more money than the cheap lumps bought out of impulse.
Bad Purchases I Made
I may as well share a few things I regret buying:
- A very beautiful wooden mechanical pencil. Nice on the eye, but terrible in hand. It makes clinking sounds when I write with it and the lead breaks constantly. I would say it’s not very durable to use something that irritates you constantly.
- A fountain pen that needs regular maintenance, and I am a lazy person in that matter. So, even though fountain pens are durable objectively, it’s not for me.
- An expensive watch that I’m not willing to scratch or get dirty. I don’t like to tiptoe around stuff I use, and it goes against my philosophy that I’m not the one serving the stuff. It’s not durable in that sense, and whether the watch can last years is not the point here.
The key point is that even for something as “durability” has subjective meaning to me, and it should be. When coming up with your own principles, what’s important is you can imagine yourself using it with ease and that the thing can fit into your life.
What I learned from Good Materialism
Each dime saved from impulsive buying, is my devotion to my escape plan for the soul-sucking job. Rather than seeing it as deprivation, I see it as manifestation of my determination.
Ultimately, I see myself more clearly (I’m a lazy person not willing to do maintenance for my watch every month), and I am able to pick things that I feel good when and AFTER buying. Developing my own “good materialism” is such a worthy journey that I would encourage everyone to take.