I think I get it. I guess, my point was that the stuff that is truly meaningful and irreplaceable, and, hence, painful to lose, would be the one that brings back some pleasant memories. If your laptop happens to die, it is unpleasant and costly to replace it, but you won't necessarily miss your old laptop. In fact, you might be secretly happy to have a reason to get yourself a new and shiny one instead! Does this laptop define you as a person in some sense? Maybe to a small extent it does. I think you are right. Our stuff does define in some ways who we are: if I drive an old car and wear simple clothes despite the fact that I could
easily afford a BMW or Versace shoes, it certainly does say something about me as a person and I sure express myself with the help of the stuff that I buy. In fact, since our daily interaction with hundreds of people is limited to them seeing us in passing, how we look and what we drive are the only two signals they get about who we are. Would I be sad if I happened to lose my clothes in fire or get my old car totaled? Maybe a little, but i can replace those things easily and my self expression is not going to suffer much from that loss. The only stuff that is truly irreplaceable seems to have some sentimental value, at least to me. But maybe it's just me. Since I bought my car 8 years ago I haven't taken it to a car wash once - I let the rain take care of that for me. My wife is like me in that sense. I also see many people getting their cars washed and waxed weekly. Clearly, some people put much more value into their cars as being extension of themselves and modes of self expression. But perhaps I do too as by driving an old and dirty car I am clearly signaling to the others my disinterest in materialism in a way... Now I am rambling a bit... In any case, I can totally see your point. Looking forward to your next essay, always such a pleasure to read and always thought provoking. My wife is now a reader, too :)
I think we don't really disagree; we're just making separate but related points, one about signaling and one about irreplaceability. There is definitely stuff that's irreplaceable, and at least most of that is tied to memories--as is the irreplaceability. But a lot more of our stuff is also signaling who we are, mostly to ourselves, but to some extent to others. Thanks for the thoughtful conversation!
Actually, in this case I disagree. Well--I agree that very often, the possessions with the most personal value are also tied to memories attached to them. But I don't think that's the whole explanation for the value.
I wrote a paper on clutter more than ten years ago, and in doing the research behind that, I came across a lot of philosophical and psychological work (including some by Csikszentmihalyi, the guy who's famous for the concept of "flow") that convinced me that our "stuff issues" have to do with how we use them to create, express, and revise a sense of extended self. This is the territory of phenomenologists, which is not my philosophical territory, but I find it fascinating. At this point I've forgotten the details of the literature I read, unfortunately, so it's hard for me to say a lot about why I'm convinced of this. Part of it has to do with the fact that not all personal value has to do with memories. There are other kinds of meaning. It has to do not just with our stuff, but the way we arrange it, and the way we understand ourselves in light of it is a way of building a life. Like, I don't have a sentimental attachment to the computer I'm writing this on, but it's important to me to have it because of what I do. And I've decorated it with a particular laptop skin because the aesthetics of my space matter to me.
This is maybe not super different from the point you're making about memories (or other kinds of meaning), but I do think it's subtly different. The main claim of my paper was that accumulating stuff to the point that it becomes problematic clutter can be understood as a misplaced response to the value it has to you. I suggested that understanding this value clearly can open up meaningful ways of dealing with it that don't necessarily involve keeping it. But it's important to do that because it's a way of honoring the stuff's connection to who you are (or understand yourself to be). I hope this is making sense. :)
Thinking about it now, this strikes me as extra interesting when we live with others as well: our stuff gets intermingled, and to the extent that stuff constitutes an extended self, those "selves" are intertwining. Which is related to what I think it means to care about/love others. That's interesting.
It seems that possessions become special only if they carry a very deep connection to our past and can easily trigger pleasant memories, that is to say, if they are souvenirs (se souvenir in french is to remember). The crockpot given by grandma might often remind you of her when you choose to use it. In fact, you might subconsciously choose to use the crockpot at times when you happen to remember your grandma so that you can savor those pleasant memories for a bit longer while using it. A stuffed animal from childhood will remind you of yourself being full of wonder about the world that is largely gone for many of us when we grow up… We don’t want to lose these souvenirs as losing them will result in missed opportunities to stumble upon some of these things at some point in the future and having a pleasant rush of memories. I am not sure whether these things are truly extensions of ourselves or just things that we had used so much under specific circumstances that they trigger memories of those circumstances automatically whenever we see them. As Spinoza noted, if two things are experienced together repeatedly, in the future experiencing one of them will automatically lead to experiencing the other, even if only in the imagination (I know, I am obsessed with Spinoza…). So it is not the things we treasure but the memories they bring, no?
I think I get it. I guess, my point was that the stuff that is truly meaningful and irreplaceable, and, hence, painful to lose, would be the one that brings back some pleasant memories. If your laptop happens to die, it is unpleasant and costly to replace it, but you won't necessarily miss your old laptop. In fact, you might be secretly happy to have a reason to get yourself a new and shiny one instead! Does this laptop define you as a person in some sense? Maybe to a small extent it does. I think you are right. Our stuff does define in some ways who we are: if I drive an old car and wear simple clothes despite the fact that I could
easily afford a BMW or Versace shoes, it certainly does say something about me as a person and I sure express myself with the help of the stuff that I buy. In fact, since our daily interaction with hundreds of people is limited to them seeing us in passing, how we look and what we drive are the only two signals they get about who we are. Would I be sad if I happened to lose my clothes in fire or get my old car totaled? Maybe a little, but i can replace those things easily and my self expression is not going to suffer much from that loss. The only stuff that is truly irreplaceable seems to have some sentimental value, at least to me. But maybe it's just me. Since I bought my car 8 years ago I haven't taken it to a car wash once - I let the rain take care of that for me. My wife is like me in that sense. I also see many people getting their cars washed and waxed weekly. Clearly, some people put much more value into their cars as being extension of themselves and modes of self expression. But perhaps I do too as by driving an old and dirty car I am clearly signaling to the others my disinterest in materialism in a way... Now I am rambling a bit... In any case, I can totally see your point. Looking forward to your next essay, always such a pleasure to read and always thought provoking. My wife is now a reader, too :)
Oh yay! :)
I think we don't really disagree; we're just making separate but related points, one about signaling and one about irreplaceability. There is definitely stuff that's irreplaceable, and at least most of that is tied to memories--as is the irreplaceability. But a lot more of our stuff is also signaling who we are, mostly to ourselves, but to some extent to others. Thanks for the thoughtful conversation!
Actually, in this case I disagree. Well--I agree that very often, the possessions with the most personal value are also tied to memories attached to them. But I don't think that's the whole explanation for the value.
I wrote a paper on clutter more than ten years ago, and in doing the research behind that, I came across a lot of philosophical and psychological work (including some by Csikszentmihalyi, the guy who's famous for the concept of "flow") that convinced me that our "stuff issues" have to do with how we use them to create, express, and revise a sense of extended self. This is the territory of phenomenologists, which is not my philosophical territory, but I find it fascinating. At this point I've forgotten the details of the literature I read, unfortunately, so it's hard for me to say a lot about why I'm convinced of this. Part of it has to do with the fact that not all personal value has to do with memories. There are other kinds of meaning. It has to do not just with our stuff, but the way we arrange it, and the way we understand ourselves in light of it is a way of building a life. Like, I don't have a sentimental attachment to the computer I'm writing this on, but it's important to me to have it because of what I do. And I've decorated it with a particular laptop skin because the aesthetics of my space matter to me.
This is maybe not super different from the point you're making about memories (or other kinds of meaning), but I do think it's subtly different. The main claim of my paper was that accumulating stuff to the point that it becomes problematic clutter can be understood as a misplaced response to the value it has to you. I suggested that understanding this value clearly can open up meaningful ways of dealing with it that don't necessarily involve keeping it. But it's important to do that because it's a way of honoring the stuff's connection to who you are (or understand yourself to be). I hope this is making sense. :)
Thinking about it now, this strikes me as extra interesting when we live with others as well: our stuff gets intermingled, and to the extent that stuff constitutes an extended self, those "selves" are intertwining. Which is related to what I think it means to care about/love others. That's interesting.
It seems that possessions become special only if they carry a very deep connection to our past and can easily trigger pleasant memories, that is to say, if they are souvenirs (se souvenir in french is to remember). The crockpot given by grandma might often remind you of her when you choose to use it. In fact, you might subconsciously choose to use the crockpot at times when you happen to remember your grandma so that you can savor those pleasant memories for a bit longer while using it. A stuffed animal from childhood will remind you of yourself being full of wonder about the world that is largely gone for many of us when we grow up… We don’t want to lose these souvenirs as losing them will result in missed opportunities to stumble upon some of these things at some point in the future and having a pleasant rush of memories. I am not sure whether these things are truly extensions of ourselves or just things that we had used so much under specific circumstances that they trigger memories of those circumstances automatically whenever we see them. As Spinoza noted, if two things are experienced together repeatedly, in the future experiencing one of them will automatically lead to experiencing the other, even if only in the imagination (I know, I am obsessed with Spinoza…). So it is not the things we treasure but the memories they bring, no?
Erica, thank you for including a quote and link to my Substack. I actually cried in public when I read it. I’m beyond grateful.
Aw! I'm glad it meant something to you. And thanks for the restack! Peace to you.