Stuffocation, asceticism and economic growth

We privileged quarter of humanity live our lives surrounded by too many things. Way more things than we need to live a full, harmonious life, reaching our full potential. I'm minded of this as I work my way through my late mother's clothes and books and ornaments - so many objects accumulated... Most of the clothing that I'm giving to charities was bought in the early 1980s (shoulder pads being the height of fashion then). My mother had four wardrobes full of clothes; my father has just one (and a chest of drawers). And I daren't go into the attic...

Watching the Robert Peston's BBC2 documentary about British retail yesterday, the economic model of the UK became clear. Retailers (food, clothing, furniture) became smarter and smarter over the post-war decades, tempting consumers to buy, buy, buy - turning wants into needs, generating desires, which could be gratified immediately thanks to easy credit. It was extremely interesting hearing Stanley Kalms (now Baron Kalms of Edgware), life president of Dixons Retail saying that the retail boom of 1992-2008 was unsustainable. "I was amazed at the ease of obtaining high amounts of credit. You could see customers walking out of the shop with a thousand pounds' worth of equipment, no deposit, no interest for 12 months... but in my heart I knew it could not possibly last." The bankers in league with the retailers, the boom driven by soaring house prices.

"Spend, spend, spend - women were the worst at it, buying stuff you don't want, you open the cupboard, everything falls out, seven pairs of shoes you never wore" said Stuart Rose (now Lord Rose of Monewden), former executive chairman of Marks & Spencer. My mother was not into shoes; rather, she had a large number of skirts, dresses, blouses, twin-sets, jackets and coats. Maybe she was making up for the austerity years that followed the war and the scrimping and saving when her sons were growing up. It all must go; there's too much clutter.

We're surrounded by it. Books belong in bookcases. But everything else must follow William Morris's golden rule: "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."

If we all lived life this way, our houses would be emptier by half than they are. Don't buy anything you won't find truly useful, or that does not add to the aesthetic joy of your life. Out will go the decorative figurines, the holiday souvenirs, the tasselled scatter cushions... Yet someone makes a living, making, delivering and selling these things.

"Truly useful". The average household power drill in the US is used for less than eight minutes in its lifetime. Borrowing or sharing makes more sense here; the sharing economy, powered by the internet, will move society in this direction. And the internet, by making information accessible to an unprecedented degree, will reduce demand for reference books.

Cutting back on buying stuff will hit the economy. Yesterday I blogged about the automotive industry - if we all drove small cars and kept them (like my father has) for well over 20 years - demand would wither and with it the jobs of the workers in factories that keep churning out ever-bigger cars. Car factories would make fewer cars, the economy of scale would go into reverse, prices would rise, as cars get pricier so they are treated better and end up carrying on for six or seven decades like the late-1940s cars on Cuba. The Far East's looms would stop spinning if everyone thought twice or more about buying that new shirt or blouse, or repairing old clothes. How much do we really need to attain true happiness, and maximise the potential that our life has offered us?

An ascetic life, pared down to the essentials (for me, an elegant, spacious zero-net-energy house on Warsaw's fringe, a well-equipped kitchen, tasteful simple furniture, cherished books, no more clothing than needed and two-wheel transport) multiplied by two billion inhabitants of the developed world - would crush economic growth.

Growth? One sector that's growing nicely is self-storage. Can't bear to part with things you no longer need, nor give you pleasure? Box them up and pay someone to store them! There's a self-storage warehouse in West Ealing by Jacob's Ladder footbridge, always busy whenever I pass.

In the old days, there'd be antique, bric-a-brac and junk shops (in descending order of poshness and price). Trouble is, there's a tidal wave of antiques, bric-a-brac and junk everywhere - all can be bought and sold on eBay (Allegro in Poland); in the 1960s, things were rarer and more valuable and could raise the tone of your dwelling. Today, it's all been downgraded to junk - unless you really know what you're looking for. My mother knew Chinese porcelain - I neither know anything about it nor want to know anything about it. I know old cameras - but then again, these have gone the way of everything else - what was once a highly prized classic bull's eye Zeiss Contarex is now an old camera that's not even digital. Surrounded by this stuff I hardly know where to turn.

But then... are we consumers moving in another direction - away from things - and towards services and experiences? Who'd impress you more at a dinner party - an immaculately-dressed person, back from Brent Cross Shopping Centre, or a scruff who's just returned from the wilds of Borneo?

The motto of the Millennials - YOLO (You Only Live Once) suggests that stuff will become less important than experience. Stuff's cheap. If not new stuff, 'pre-loved' stuff from charity shops. Not wearing it? Give it away. Make a charity happy. Make a charity shop customer happy. Feel good within yourself about how charitable you are. Win-win-win. Not great news for retailers and manufacturers, but then recycling is so much more virtuous than the slash-and-burn of the late 20th Century consumption model.

Let's apply our consciousness to our consumption process. Buy with awareness of what it is that we are buying - and why we're doing it.

This time three years ago:
Heroes on the wall (for my father)

This time five years ago:
Tax dodge or public service?

This time six years ago:
Warsaw's woodlands in autumn

This time seven years ago:
Still here, the early snow

This time eight years ago:
Another point of view