Five Reasons Why We Cling to Our Stuff
Over on Facebook this morning, a friend of mine made an interesting observation. I don’t have permission to quote him, so I’ll present it anonymously:
We identify emotionally with our possessions because we’re not physically capable of holding enough meaning and memories by ourselves.
The guy who wrote this is a brilliant designer, responsible for some of the most beautiful contemporary housewares I’ve ever seen. So I can appreciate his attachment to objects — especially the lovely ones. But what he’s said here springs directly from the modern “we-are-our-stuff” myth which has so seduced us.
Whatever meaning, emotion, or memory is conjured by an object already exists within. There’s nothing wrong with stuff: I’m no ascetic, and minimalism is a method to achieving joy and balance — plenty. However, what’s at the root of my friend’s thought is something more than the desire for meaning .
Why we grasp so tightly
We sometimes collect things for good reason: need, for example, or the perfectly natural human impulse to curate beauty. But the main reason we cling to things, I believe, is fear. Specifically:
- We fear want
- We fear not being able to provide for others
- We fear forgetting
- We fear not being loved
- We fear the unknown
You are not your things
We hold on for dear life. It’s futile, of course. The nature of material things is dissolution, and the meaning we find in objects is ultimately a reflection of our own thoughts. So when we talk about our stuff holding meaning, we have things precisely backwards. Our own memories, emotions, and experience are the source of that meaning.
We define our stuff — not the other way around. There’s no reason to fear letting go. Ultimately, we’ll do that, anyway. We enter and depart the stage with an empty hand.
Clinging to objects is the root of over-consumption, and the potential ruin of planet.
Image of hand grasping a box by Flickr user Carlanoff / CC BY-SA 2.0
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That is true. He hit it right on the head — it’s because we cannot physically capture memories.
But in that case, I just take digital photos of the item at every angle and log it so I will never forget it and the memories it churns up, but I don’t need to physically own the item to do so.
Nice to see you, EM. I have your site in my RSS reader.
I think we not only fear forgetting, and feel the need to hold on to something that has emotional value for us, but we convince ourselves that a person’s energy is attached to that item. And sometimes it can be. Throwing out the thing symbolizes throwing out the person, and that’s just not something many of us can manage. Excellent post and great perspective.
We’re certainly not obliged to throw things out. While I think the energies and associations of an object are resident in the observer, not the object, I have things I keep because they trigger those recollections.
Hey Chris, I’m glad that my thought inspired you. You certainly have permission to attribute it to me.
I think that objects do start with meaning, but they are only partially filled. An object’s meaning is a conversation between its designer and its user.
This is what I love about design- each iteration of something I release is identical when it ships: filled partially with meaning that I defined 100%. When someone starts to use it, and integrate it into his or her life, its meaning changes, and the item becomes different from its production run. What starts mass-produced becomes individualized through daily use.
I was trying to say through the quote that objects are kind of like external hard drives. They take on the overflow of meaning and memories that people produce over the course of their lives.
Hi, Joey (and, yes, he’s the designer I mentioned — go see his work, particularly the Sorapot).
I thought I might be pulling your remark a bit out of context, so it’s a good you stuck your head in. And thanks for making all the pretty things.
Some things are a means by which we express ourselves – eg my blog or my violin. But in other areas is there a risk that relating to things takes the place of relating to people? Hmmm…
Stuff is just that -> stuff. In the grand scheme, it’s pretty worthless to hold on to it. After all, you cannot take it with you in the end
Great post, Chris.
“We enter and depart the stage with an empty hand.” I love that!
Such a great post!
Thank you, Barb. I think I’m going to enjoy writing this site.
The question is should we collect stuff or experiences. I have noticed I’m moving more and more towards experience. Those rare moments you can’t buy in any shop.
Great article. My favorite line: Clinging to objects is the root of over-consumption, and the potential ruin of planet.
“Fear” i do not agree.
but a need to give a tangible material existence of our emotions, feelings, cultures, and beliefs in order to transmit someho. Because physical material seems to last after our thoughts, and other virtual elements, and we are still build up by our physical senses and perceptions.
Now the issue: our society is diving in a post industrial with un significant plastic and mass creations “all for one, one for all”. We need more than one or few objects around us to find our own soul relieved by meaningful objects and as well meaningful life.
We were used to design without calling it design, those objects were able to become antics and last at least through one life generation.
now people are trying to fill the gap left by missing emotions and means related to our actual relationship with our consumer environment and society. It is related to semantics and social pressure too. As far as our cultures become global and uniform to be shaped as universal, Designers born from this new culture tends to create some things, services or even brands.
I feel more Sorry that we need to visit museums to find out what we were used to be.
I think “We fear forgetting” is the most prevalent. Those with the most clutter, well it defines the way they are. They have too much going on their plate and stress themselves out in a way where they will forget the simplest thing. So they keep every silly little thing in order to not forget how they acquired it, who gave it to them, or what it supposedly “means” to them. But my questions is, how do you explain it to something who lives in this fear of forgetting everything they once enjoyed (even if it was many many years ago and never being used)? I know a lot of people like this, but I find it hard for them to understand.
I started writing a much longer answer to this, but have set it aside for a future article. You raise some interesting questions about the relationship of clutter and compulsion.
I watched a couple episodes of the new TV show “Hoarders” today. Found it quite disturbing. There was a 21-year-old guy named Jake who talked about his compulsion to collect things, particularly stuff given to him by people he loves. He feels that throwing them out — even trash — is somehow a betrayal of that love. This sounds like a dialed-up version of what you describe, and I suspect many people living in clutter entertain milder versions of the same sentiment.
But a truly unreasonable fear of forgetting might be a cue for to seek out a qualified counselor. Addressing the root of this fear is more important than worrying about its symptoms.
I started writing a much longer answer to this, but have set it aside for a future article. You raise some interesting questions about the relationship of clutter and compulsion.
I watched a couple episodes of the new TV show “Hoarders” today. Found it quite disturbing. There was a 21-year-old guy named Jake who talked about his compulsion to collect things, particularly stuff given to him by people he loves. He feels that throwing them out — even trash — is somehow a betrayal of that love. This sounds like a dialed-up version of what you describe, and I suspect many people living in clutter entertain milder versions of the same sentiment.
But a truly unreasonable fear of forgetting might be a cue for to seek out a qualified counselor. Addressing the root of this fear is more important than worrying about its symptoms.