How much is enough? In a world teeming with choices, but rapidly diminishing resources, how much do you, really, need?
I first stumbled upon the word, plenitude, from the book, “Plenitude: The New Economics of True Wealth,” by famed economist, Juliet Schor, author of the seminal and profoundly interesting “The Overworked American” and “The Overspent American.” In this book, she puts forth an interesting argument and intellectual statement about the economics and sociology of ecological decline. Specifically, suggesting a radical change in the way we think about consumerism, value and how we live our lives.
While Shor’s principal argument is one that primarily contemplates conventional economics in the context of an ever-worsening ecological crisis, it really inspired me to think more deeply about and reflect on my own notions about how much is enough when I read it 6 years ago.
According to our pals over at Merriam-Webster, the definition of plenitude is “the quality or state of being full: completeness.” Inherent in the very definition is the question of what does it take for us to be full? To be complete? And what is it, exactly, that does or can make us so?
Contemporary consumer culture, that is deeply rooted in the work, spend, repeat cycle, suggests that being full or complete cannot ever occur, nor does it want us to be. In fact, the perennial barrage of messaging, marketing, and seemingly endless amounts of products and services appear to be strategically designed to obfuscate us even getting at the question altogether.
Growing up in a time where greed, materialism and crass conspicuous consumption were lauded as aspirational social and personal values, I was, ever so briefly, deluded. Then, of course, along came music and punk wherein my eyes began to open. And while the ethos and general thrust was decidedly anti-consumerist and rooted in independent thought and action, the real lesson for me was beginning to understand what in life was worth valuing.
For me, it was realizing that it was not material things like a large home, a luxury vehicle or an overpriced chronometer that made life worth living, but rather the intangibles. Things like friendship, creativity, and adventures were what made it so. Things that weren’t sold or purchased, but rather cultivated, earned and experienced.
Furthermore, at some still undefined point in time, I adopted a comparatively minimalist approach to life. Of course, we are all dependent upon physical items in order to live and otherwise conduct our lives, but I was able to realize that by keeping these to a minimum, I could be more free. It wasn’t until I read Chuck Palahniuk’s famous line, “The things you own, end up owning you” many years later that I could appropriately identify the sentiment I had felt inside for so long.
THE THINGS YOU OWN, END UP OWNING YOU
As a result, I have spent the majority of my adult life with a minimalist bent and have judiciously limited the number of my material possessions. With respect to acquiring life’s physical necessities, I have generally used an approach of quality and value. I tend to buy high-quality items that last. However, I keep these to the bare minimum be it a capsule wardrobe, set of cutlery, or a vehicle. In essence, I have nice things, just not a lot of them and not multiples.
In addition, and for reasons still unknown, I have always taken exceptionally good care of my material possessions, even as a small child. A good example is all of my original Star Wars figures remain in mint condition and have all their small pieces despite hundreds and hundreds of hours of play back in the day. Keeping things in good working order and condition means that I have to replace them much less often than most. It’s the reason my caseless, 6-year old iPhone still works magnificently and has never been dropped or damaged.
To be balanced, there have been areas of my life where I have veered wildly from the above and been positively gluttonous with material items. This occurred with vinyl records and books. I spent a good portion of my life collecting wonderful and rare specimens of each to the point where they accumulated in the thousands.
And while I pared back considerably prior to moving to the Washington countryside, it was a superb lesson in truly understanding how material possessions can legitimately own you. The space for storage, the bulk, and the frustrating task of having to box and drag them along on each and every move. I’m eternally grateful that technology has advanced to the stage where the physical ownership of media is no longer a prerequisite for experiencing it, thanks to downloads and streaming.
To be fair, while the above example is real, it’s quite a piddling one, for sure. Being shackled to colossal house, car and boat payments; outlandish childcare and Montessori expenses; gym and country club memberships is a far better and more common example of being owned. Literally noosed by your own decisions. Add the attendant psychological anxiety of knowing you are two paychecks away from irretrievably losing it all just makes it all the more real and harrowing.
I DO NOT WANT WHAT I HAVEN’T GOT
At another undefined point in my life, I began to shift my internal question from “What do I want?” to the infinitely more powerful, “What is it that I really need?” This allowed me to frame my existence and associated behaviors in a much more purposeful and intentional way. It got me on the path to achieving what I now identify as personal plenitude.
Obviously, all of us know the answer to the question – food, clothing and shelter. Everything beyond that is, effectively, gravy. Alexander Maslow did a decent job covering the psychological aspects relative to motivation, but the reality is that, fundamentally, we don’t actually need very much.
So why is it that we so desperately believe that we do? From a certain perspective, “Enough” really ain’t all that much. Or, at least it shouldn’t be.
And herein lies the conundrum. Stripped naked to its core, consumerism is really nothing other than a finely-honed, perpetual desire machine. It is desire – the endless, albeit unnecessary, wishing, craving, longing and wanting that so easily allows us to be unwittingly deceived into believing that “more” is the answer; that no amount can or ever will be enough.
For me, it was a few months after finishing Schor’s book that I was able to truly understand what plenitude means to me. It is the absence of overwhelming or manufactured desire. It is understanding the beauty of the universe and my very small, very fleeting place in it. It is being not simply content, but joyous, in knowing that what I have is, actually, more than enough. To me, that’s plenitude.
And that’s enough.
HOW ABOUT YOU?
How much is enough for you? Have you reached a state of plenitude? Are you full; complete? As always, I’d love to hear from you.
Hey Mr. Fate, loved your take here. I think many of your readers have grappled with the same issues and arrived at a somewhat similar stance, myself included. Of course, we are the minority. For me, it was my wife that changed my mindset. I wouldn’t ever consider myself overly consumerist, but I would definitely buy things I didn’t need (and didn’t especially enjoy or value) and not think much of it. My wife came from a background of scarcity, and at first I felt shunned when she’d admonish me for my frivolous spending. Over time, though, I realized that she was right most of the time. 10+ years later, I think we’ve hit a very good balance: we spend on things of great value to us, including quality foods/durable goods/experiences, and nothing of low value. We found ‘enough’!
Hey Adam and thanks for the great comment. It’s fantastic that you’ve found your “enough.” Very cool indeed! I was much the same as you when I was younger in that I’d buy things that didn’t really give me value or particularly enjoy. Just grateful that I found my “enough” later in life
“Literally noosed by your own decisions.” Fantastic! This is a great line and sums up the sharp edge of consumerism that cuts and narrows the options in life for so many. It’s ironic, that those who try to have it all, effectively shackle themselves by their pursuit. I was blind and victim to it previously. When I took a year off to travel around in my late 20’s, that really opened up my eyes to what minimalism can do for happiness, though I didn’t know it was minimalism at the time. I just knew less was better and it felt damn good to be free of things.
I can admire your minimalist approach from afar, as I have aspirations for the same, but with a house in suburbia and two kids, I’m in constant battle with objects (mostly barbies bought by grandma). One day in the near future I hope to only own what can fit in a backpack again, same for my kids and wife, as we sell most of our stuff to travel about. I still don’t know what my “enough” constitutes as, minus the basics of survival obviously. I think for me, it’s always going to be something that will be tinkered with and refined as I change, especially the spending that’s related to it.
Hey, Noel and thanks for the comment and kind words. I’m glad you enjoyed that particular line as it was a very last minute add. To reciprocate, I like your, ‘enough,’ “being always something that will be tinkered with and refined as I change.” That’s certainly the way it’s been for me looking back over the course of my life. I see it to continually evolved as well looking forward.
Great one Mr. Fate and loved the pictures in this one. That visual aesthetic packed a nice punch along with the intelligent and mindful writing.
I’ve thought about writing on this theme for awhile now – when is enough truly enough. But haven’t done it yet. I think in part because I’m still figuring it out. I’ve been similar to you in that throughout my life I’ve been more minimalist but buying quality instead. Plus, waiting so long to buy a house, etc, possessions have never really trapped me, but being time poor is what has always chafed me.
The biggest improvement I’ve seen in this area of my life had been watching my wife. She used to be a spender, and now for the past several years has adopted a minimalist mindset, and I’ve seen her happiness grow along side it. Been cool to watch.
I also think understanding when enough is enough is intertwined with the happiness question. Realizing one, tends to lead to the other.
But the real kicker, I was waiting patiently for the “Bad Seed” reference in your early days! Hahaha.
Thanks Q-Fi and glad you enjoyed. Yes, I particularly was captured by the cover photo when I saw it as well. Yep, like Noel above, my ‘enough has continued to change and evolve over time. Awesome to hear about your wife’s transition as well. I think once, people pare down, they can truly begin to feel a sense of freedom, or even relief. Aha! I still have and drive the “Bad Seed.” I toyed with included a reference here, but it didn’t make the cut. Kinda now wish it did!
i sure appreciate the subtle montessori shot, mr. fate. guess what? your offspring will turn out just fine without it if you pay them some attention. while i don’t consider myself a classic minimalist i was living in a little one bedroom apartment when i moved here 18 years ago. i don’t think my “stuff” has expanded much since then. mostly the things i want out of life are similar to what you mention as valuable. i really appreciate friendship and quality companionship. plus i like having a dog around.
taking good care of your stuff is an underrated virtue. i was the same way. my little toy matchbox cars from the 70’s are in great shape still.
Hey Freddy and thanks for the comment. Ah yes, glad you noted and appreciated the Montessori quip. Funny, now that I think about it after reading what you said, but I really don’t have much more “stuff” now than when I was young and starting out. The quality has certainly improved, but it’s been primarily as matter of buying “replacement parts.” Totally agree on taking care of thing as being a sadly scare value these days.
“a finely-honed, perpetual desire machine” Nice way to describe the hedonic treadmill. I highlighted Schor in a post last year and feel she’s an overlooked pioneer of the FIRE movement, mostly from the minimalist and anti-consumer side of things.
As for me, I know mathematically I have more than enough. But coming from where I did and with the experiences of my youth there’s still a part of my brain that catastrophizes the future and fears the worst. I doubt I’ll ever silence that part of me, but I know I need to just ignore it.
Hey Dave and thanks for the comment. Glad you liked the line. It’s actually an extremely obscure reference to the band “Foetus” and happened to work in this particular sentence. Totally agree on Schor being a somewhat underrated FIRE persona. Her “Overworked and Overspent American” books are stellar. Good on you for knowing that there’s some underlying psychology at play with your earlier experiences and your ability to recognize and ignore it.