Stuff

When I moved into my first apartment after college, I brought a laptop, a sleeping bag, a folding chair, and a clip-lamp. It was great. I felt I could go anywhere and do anything.<p>Of course, with a new job, 650 square feet, and an an IKEA nearby, I couldn't turn down a few basics. So I picked up a spartan bed, a minimalist sofa, a function-oriented desk.<p>Then time began to pass. Though I'd resolved never to subscribe to cable, where was the harm in a TV to watch Netflix in comfort? Off to Best Buy to pick up a 20" on sale. Then IKEA to put something under it. Now I needed shelves. Accessories. Electronics.<p>Time passes. Books. Papers. Storage. A couple raises? Bigger TV! No need to sell the old one; it goes in the bedroom. Office reorganization? Don't throw away that table; it matches my sofa! Now I need chairs...<p>As I laid the cables for my home theater system last year, I had to confront just how far I had come from my theoretically nomadic self just a few years earlier. I had an apartment full of stuff. Some new opportunities had me contemplating the possibility of picking up and moving a great distance -- something that would have been easy not all that long ago, now made quite the unappealing prospect.<p>I'd kept pretty fit myself. But I realized that my lifestyle had put on a lot of pounds while I wasn't looking.

<i>I have too much stuff. Most people in America do. In fact, the poorer people are, the more stuff they seem to have. Hardly anyone is so poor that they can't afford a front yard full of old cars.</i><p>Wow, Paul, you really don't understand what it is like to be poor. The poor people don't have a lot of cars in their yard because they can afford lots of cars. They have lots of cars because they never throw them away. Rich people throw lots of fine stuff away, but poor people keep everything forever, because they don't know when they can afford to buy another one.<p>I've been rich and poor and most of my family is still poor. While they don't have lots of cars in the yard, they are pack rats and worry constantly about a time in the future when they won't have anything anymore.<p>Poor people keep stuff because there may be a day when they'll need it but won't have the money to buy it. The regret of, "Oh... i had one of those but i got rid of it" is pretty strong when you need something you don't have but once did.

I have a 90-day rule. If I have something and I haven't used it in 90 days, I probably don't need it and get rid of it (sell it, give it away, throw it out). This tends to keep my life de-cluttered and "focused". It also keeps me from waisting money on stuff I don't need. "Am I really going to be still excited about, and benefit from, using this widget I want to buy in 90 days or not?" I've lived like this for about a decade and I highly recommend trying it.<p>There are exceptions of course. Seasonal items like clothing, mountain bike, etc... Books too as mentioned in the essay. Having a library of coding books on-hand is not only reassuring, but has helped me save significant time solving a problem, even if I only rarely use the book. And I don't think it's a good idea throwing out your old money either. ;)

<i>Except books—but books are different.</i><p>I suspect most people have their own personal caveat to this essay. Mine isn't books (I usually give good books to friends after reading them, and bad books to ebay). My own caveat would be raw materials for building or repairing things (electrical components, nuts and bolts, tools, etc).

This reminds me of fight club (or at least one of the core themes), in fact one of the lines in the essay reads like it was plucked out of the movie.<p>Anyway, Fight Club definitely struck a cord with me and since then I have been living with incredibly little stuff. I have a computer, my iphone, my car, a desk and a bed and just enough clothes to get by for 2 weeks (do laundry once a week) and of course minor other things that you need, but basically bare essentials.<p>While I cant say for sure how much of an impact its had on my life, I can say without a doubt that coming home always feels very relaxing and definitely helps me prepare for a new day.

This is great. I came to the same conclusion some time ago. Of course, I never articulated it so elequently.<p>Anyway, anytime I bring new stuff into my house I take the same amount of stuff and put it in a box. About four times a year I call the Salvation Army and they pick up the box.<p>Before buying something new, I have to think about what old stuff is going in the box. Normally it isn't hard. On Christmas, when I get a lot of new stuff, it can be a challange. The worst is when someone gives me something I will never use and I have to put it right in the box, which seems ungrateful. Other than that, the box is liberating and putting stuff in it feels great.

I find it particularly annoying that society in general, not just marketers, tends to pressure people into having stuff. Nobody respects the "miser" who is earning decent money and not spending it by buying things. I get a lot of flak from people who ask me that since I can afford something, why am I not adding it to my lifestyle? They wonder if I take pleasure in watching the numbers change in my bank balance.<p>My answer to them is usually that it's a slippery slope from buying things I can afford to buying things I don't actually need (slickdeals.net is especially good at exploiting this behavior). This tends not to sit well with them -- maybe it reminds them of a fact they are uncomfortable with and are trying to suppress?

"I think humans constantly scan their environment to build a mental model of what's around them. And the harder a scene is to parse, the less energy you have left for conscious thoughts. A cluttered room is literally exhausting."<p>On a related note , Steve Jobs has no furniture.

Sweet, I can post George Carlin and be on topic!<p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac" rel="nofollow">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac</a>

What Paul doesn't really devote enough time to describing is the pleasure that getting rid of stuff brings. Reducing the amount of stuff you own is liberating. You feel physically lighter. Its not just about avoiding a burden. It is physically pleasurable to reduce the amount of stuff you are responsible for.<p>Go through your house and give to charity or throw out anything you haven't used in 12 months. Its amazing how much of an emotional lift this gives you.<p>I really dislike the cult of stuff. I'm getting married soon. We've requested people give us money or just their congratulations :) Some people however seem to think we're rude for refusing to accept stuff we don't need. Somehow we're obligated to accept a burdensome gift that we'll have to quietly dispose of. They spend money that we could use for things we do need and we have to go to the effort of getting rid of it. Its a lose lose. Yet somehow we're selfish for asking people not to buy us stuff.

Books: for a long time I thought that I had done something when I acquired one. Yet clearly there's a difference between the book once dipped into and on the shelf for years, and the Indian cookbook with turmeric stains all over or the tech reference with its spine worn out. I have tried lately to be more discriminating in my book buying, and not to buy another book of some type (tech, history, fiction) before I've finished the last purchased book of that type.

Even as a child, I was pretty indifferent to stuff (A 9th grade essay wanted us to write about our most prized possession and I couldn't come up with anything except my computer). But I think the final break for me happened when inadequate backup procedures caused me to lose several years worth of digital photos.<p>I was initially heartbroken but then I started thinking how many times I had actually looked at any of those photos since I took them and, for the majority of then, the answer was zero. After that, my relationship with stuff shifted radically.<p>A few years later, I lost a wooden spoon which was pretty much the only thing I held an emotional attachment to anymore. That thing was older than I was and had been the one constant in cooking which is a huge part of my life. I moped for a year, shrugged and got a new one.<p>I'm starting to seriously consider that, once a year, I will find the thing currently most precious to me and get rid of it.

I can relate to the point about how traveling realigns your ideas about stuff. I've been traveling around South America for the last 5 months with exactly one change of clothes. The general rule for long trips like this is that if you haven't used one of your possessions in 3 days, then you shouldn't have it along.<p>I find that I take this concept with me back to civilization. I'll get back to my storage locker and not find anything that I want to take out. "This isn't the shirt that I wear.", and "I already have enough socks" (meaning 4).<p>Back home in England, I can think of exactly two possessions that I've accumulated in the 3 years since I've been living there with my girlfriend: a 22" monitor to connect to the laptop, and a really nice Italian espresso machine. Both get used every day, so evidently they meet my criteria for "stuff you're allowed to have along."

Reminds of an excerpt from the book, The Romantic Ethic and the Spirit of Modern Consumerism (via <a href="http://mrteacup.tumblr.com/post/386598513/the-consummation-of-desire-is-thus-a-necessarily" rel="nofollow">http://mrteacup.tumblr.com/post/386598513/the-consummation-o...</a>):<p><i>The consummation of desire is thus a necessarily disillusioning experience for the modern hedonist as it constitutes the ‘testing’ of his day-dream against reality, the resultant recognition that something is missing. The real experience in question may yield considerable pleasure, some of which may not have been anticipated, but despite this, much of the quality of the dream-pleasure is bound to be absent. In fact, the more skilled the individual is as a ‘dream-artist’, then the greater this element of disillusionment is likely to be. A certain dissatisfaction with reality is thus bound to mark the outlook of the dedicated hedonist, something which may, under appropriate circumstances, prompt a turning to fantasy. It is more likely, however, that the dream will be carried forward and attached to some new object of desire such that the illusory pleasures may, once more, be re-experienced. In this way, the modern hedonist is continually withdrawing from reality as fast as he encounters it, ever-casting day-dreams forward in time, attaching them to objects of desire, and then subsequently ‘unhooking’ from these objects as and when they are attained and experienced.</i>

You can join the 100 things challenge: <a href="http://www.guynameddave.com/100-thing-challenge.html" rel="nofollow">http://www.guynameddave.com/100-thing-challenge.html</a><p>One problem I've found with it is that people buy me worthless gifts (gifts I don't derive value from because I don't use them).<p>I've created an online list of things I want at kaboodle.com, or more exactly, a list of things I wouldn't mind possessing, but my family refuses buying anything on the list because that's "spoiling the surprise". I would prefer they stop giving me gifts altogether, but they won't no matter what.<p>My favorite quote from PG's article:<p><i>What I didn't understand was that the value of some new acquisition wasn't the difference between its retail price and what I paid for it. It was the value I derived from it.</i>

I agree to being minimalist, with the notable exception of kitchen supplies. It's near impossible to cook interesting food without cabinets full of spices, various sized pots and pans, utensils of all shapes, and in some cases, specialty items like blenders, strainers, etc. Add to that a pantry full of food staples, and a full refrigerator, and suddenly moving anywhere is a painful process.<p>Life is too short to live on ramen.

Reminds me of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac" rel="nofollow">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac</a>

Find the few things that matter, and drop the others. This approach might apply to many areas of life.

This is so funny because I was talking to my girlfriend about this recently. We recently moved from a 700 sqft condo to a 1700 sqft house and I look around and I say "why do we need all this crap" I mean do we really need that second couch or extra desk, its really just filling the space.<p>I honestly look at most of the stuff we have bought and thing that it was not only a horrible waste of money but a burden. We talk about possibly moving around a bit basically move where we can both work and It keeps coming back to what do you do with the stuff.<p>This is terrible. We aren't rich but we are not poor either, but we are kind of in a spot where we are kind of like how can we move to another country or province(we are in Canada) when we have all this stuff.<p>I think in the long run if you are interested in having some freedom owning less stuff is the way to go. I know thats the direction I am know moving in.

I have lots and lots of stuff. Some I use regularly or at least often enough. Some I used to use and keep just in case, its not like its costing me. And some I got just in case, mostly science, math, and engineering books I found cheap and think I might get to some day (they are also a useful investment, I've been mostly living off of reselling some of them the last year that I've been out of work).<p>But I am not ruled by my stuff, I have in the past, and could again, just abandon most of it when I move again. What I know and can do is what is most important to me; and that is mostly what my belongings are actually about - books, tools, supplies for learning and doing.<p><i>"The best of all things is to learn. Money can be lost or stolen, health and strength may fail, but what you have committed to your mind is yours forever."</i><p>-- Louis L'Amour, The Walking Drum

I wonder if this got submitted now because of my submission: <a href="http://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=1124086" rel="nofollow">http://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=1124086</a> on "The Possessions Exercise:" <a href="http://jseliger.com/2010/02/13/the-possessions-exercise-according-to-geoffrey-miller" rel="nofollow">http://jseliger.com/2010/02/13/the-possessions-exercise-acco...</a> .<p>(For those of you who don't want to click the second link, here's the money shot:<p><i>List the ten most expensive things (products, services, or experiences) that you have ever paid for (including houses, cars, university degrees, marriage ceremonies, divorce settlements, and taxes). Then, list the ten items that you have ever bought that gave you the most happiness. Count how many items appear on both lists.</i> )

Books ??? - Its kind of funny on my front. I live the nomadic lifestyle and the box I have never opened since my last move has been my books. I plan never too and possible avoid any more technical book purchases. ( My bit for the environment )<p>How do I manage technical dilemmas ??? Google ... Seriously - Google like mad.. And i end up learning/reading a whole lot more in the general direction of my problem.

A couple of things I've been doing:<p>When kids have a birthday or holiday with gifts, we tell them that they have to throw away or give away an equal amount of stuff. It works surprisingly well.<p>I've been thinning out my media stuff (books, videos, old records, etc.) in batches during moves, but recently began selling what I could on amazon. It's mostly CDs and books, but in the past two months it's totaled about $800. One problem, however, is many titles are worth too little for me to go through the trouble of listing, selling, packing, and shipping them. This is especially true of older books. No matter how good or important they were, about 90% sell for &#60;$2 used on Amazon.

I am moving to San Francisco from Nebraska. I pretty much got rid of all my stuff already except books, clothes, and computers. It felt awesome to get rid of everything, I suggest you try it.

I'm always aware of this when I look at model rooms for designer furniture. They are always alarmingly spartan. With that image, it's easy to notice that without the pressure of real stuff, your mind prefers it not be there.<p>That always struck me about IKEA. It tries to have both by trying to appeal to high design while filling their model rooms with clutter. It's very telling and a wonderful business model since they'll sell you the stuff: moose spaghetti, tiny candles, cacti.

I wrote something very similar in the same exact month: <a href="http://chir.ag/20070725" rel="nofollow">http://chir.ag/20070725</a> - Buy Less Stuff. I honestly don't remember if I was inspired by PG's essay or it was just a coincidence. Like 'bcowcher', I even mentioned Fight-Club.<p>So where am I today 3 years later? I still haven't bought a lot of stuff. But I got married in 2008 and now my house is full of my wife's stuff. However, she started to get rid of a lot of her stuff. I don't need stuff to make myself feel at home but she does, as that is her only connection with her past life. I bought some clothes for myself last year (12 single-color t-shirts @ $3/each online) and a lot of running gear for my ultramarathon but other than that, barely anything.<p>I think the lesson here for me is that it is indeed possible to reduce your acquisition of "stuff" and maintain it. However, it depends very much on your personality. My wife likes to dress nicely and decorate the house. So we'll be stuff every night and then, hopefully not too much.

I just went through a major purge in order to downsize from a 1000 sq ft house, to a ~220 sq ft RV. I've still got too much stuff, but I'm getting closer.<p>Stuff weighs you down, and makes making major life changes more difficult (even if you know you need them). I stayed in Mountain View at least a year longer than I should have, from a contentment perspective, mostly because the thought of moving was just too much to handle.<p>Some things I will never allow myself to again have a lot of: Books, CDs and DVDs, more furniture than I use every day, more rooms than I use every day, more computers than I use every day, and <i>anything</i> (clothes, tools, foodstuffs, kitchenwares, etc.) that can sit in a closet or on a shelf for more than a year without being needed. Even now, I think I have probably twice as much stuff as I really need, and I'm planning to move into a smaller, but nicer, RV in a few months, once I've downsized more thoroughly.

Somewhat similar to Bruce Sterling's Viridian design movement <a href="http://www.viridiandesign.org/2008_11_01_archive.html" rel="nofollow">http://www.viridiandesign.org/2008_11_01_archive.html</a>

<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impermanence" rel="nofollow">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impermanence</a>

I think the way to get a handle on all your stuff is to turn your life inside out (or more accurately, turn it rightside out).<p>From an engineering standpoint, you have to <i>design</i> your life. You know - architect how you want to live.<p>From that, it's easy to deal with your stuff -- does it support your design? If it doesn't, it should go.<p>The computer should have a place. Kitchen stuff should live in the kitchen.<p>The bedroom closet is for the clothes you do use and maybe seasonal stuff at the top. It isn't for 6 boxes of cat5 and all those extra USB cables you end up with. You should not have a closet or garage full of "misc".<p>My personal test is the "might" test. Stuff you "might" need is not stuff you <i>do</i> need. It goes.

<i>And yet when I got back I didn't discard so much as a box of it. Throw away a perfectly good rotary telephone? I might need that one day.</i><p>Sounds like INTP tendency:<p><i>Because the present is inextricably linked to a sense of the past, INTPs tend to hoard items which help solidify the connection to the past. They find it very difficult to let go of anything they have collected (or indeed created) and which may have a nostalgic meaning. </i><p>above from <a href="http://www.intp.org/intprofile.html" rel="nofollow">http://www.intp.org/intprofile.html</a>

I love this article.<p>My wife and I came to the same conclusion when we wanted to start our own thing. We needed to be flexible enough to live from anywhere a frugal life style would demand and our stuff was just weighing us down. Even storing it was going to cost alot of money - in the end we got rid of must of it.<p>Our books were the biggest culprits. Through bargains, we accumulated tons of novels that we've never read. Those were the first to go. The only books left were mostly references.

Books are no different from other stuff. It's better to apply the same standards to books when you you are trying to get rid of useless stuff. And it's not only about paper books (it's obvious they have huge downsides, because they are heavy). Electronic books are also should be deleted if they are not useful anymore. Our attention span is very limited, and new information tends to have better quality than old information (on average).

I often think about this. And of one more hidden cost of stuff, especially furniture: it occupies space in a place you pay rent for for. If that sofa takes 2 square meters out of my 40 square meters apartment, that means every 20th rent I pay is just because of this. If my rent is approximately the same as the price of that sofa was, I refinance if every 1.6 years.

Raymond Chen (Microsoft)'s blog post on stuff: <a href="http://blogs.msdn.com/oldnewthing/archive/2005/11/11/491780.aspx" rel="nofollow">http://blogs.msdn.com/oldnewthing/archive/2005/11/11/491780....</a>

Thank you, Paul Graham, for talking me into buying another pair of shoes!

Even with books, there exists a simpler solution: the library. Plus, it's free.<p>Most people's bookshelves just collect dust. It's no different than having a few cars sitting in your front yard.

(July 2007)

This especially applies to buying a house.

Kids don't builder a coarser model of the evironment, adults do. Once again pg doesn't do his resaarch before espousing his amateur psychology.

I've recently started to reduce my spending on "stuff" so I can start saving for the things I've decided actually matter (a startup, a trip to Europe with my girlfriend, as well as a ring for her for whenever that moment is right) One of the key concepts of the essay is happiness will not be reduced, and possibly increased with this change in living. To this I will attest is very true, I haven't gone on the trip yet, but I already get more pleasure out of knowing I actually WILL be going on it, then if I bought a faster laptop etc.

We have too many things that do too many things.

How is it relevant to the community?