Easy to say, hard to live up to

Thinking about getting a new car and confronting a variety of other financial decisions and recent events, I find myself missing some of the possessions I used to have. And it makes me a little bit ashamed of myself, since I should know better than to feel that way. Why do people invest so much emotion in material objects? I’m guilty of this myself — for instance, I feel a twinge of regret at letting go of my BMW 323 convertible. I really liked the car, but at the end of the day it was just a car; a piece of steel and leather and rubber that moved me from point A to point B. Yes, it was a high-quality car. But why did I invest any emotion in it?

On a similar note, why do people invest emotion in having (and displaying) possessions? Aside from cars, there are houses, clothing, jewelry, art, and a bunch of other things — things — that in the final evaluation are simply not all that important in life yet which people, myself included, have strong emotions about. People even have an emotion about the possessions of others; the emotion is called envy and its effects are almost never good for anyone. When it comes time to part with something — even something worthless like an old pair of pants that no longer fits — there is an emotional response one has that makes one hesitate to let go of a possession.

Material things are incapable of providing happiness to anyone. The BMW gave me pleasure but not happiness. Acquiring more material things will not make me happy; at best, they will create utility that will indirectly lead to happiness, but even so, the amount and quality threshold needed to create that utility is quite low. I do not need another BMW when I buy a car — I need something that is reasonably reliable and reasonably safe, and all the rest of the things associated with a car are luxuries which can only provide pleasure, not happiness. The love between the Wife and I is a source of happiness, and to compare that emotion to a material object seems base and crass. I love my parents, I love my friends. I love learning and teaching. I love accomplishing challenging tasks. These are the things that create happiness and joy.

What is more important — the quality of my car or the quality of my marriage? What counts for more — the extent of my education or the extent of my equities portfolio? When I die, will people remember my taste in humor or my taste in shoes? Yet despite the obvious answers to these rhetorical questions, why are people, myself included, so worried about stuff? It does not make me or anyone else happy to worry about material things; indeed, happiness is often the opposite of what happens when excess emotion is invested in the acquisition of material objects.

I shall try hard to remember that things are just chattel and not worth emotion. Money is important strictly for its utility and has no inherent value. Happiness is not derived from objects.