Stop, Thief!
A random thought about ownership in relation to minimalism.
Once, when I was working a short-term contract, I found a funny coconut monkey (you know the sort of thing) in a dusty storage box. It looked like the souvenir of a Wage Slave’s holiday, brought back from Hawaii for ambivalent co-workers.
The monkey was so grotesque and kitschy that I almost took it home, but then I realised that this would in fact be stealing so I left it in the box.
Most people wouldn’t even have thought of taking it, would they?
A similar thing happened a decade earlier. Just before leaving for a long spell in Canada, I found a novelty coffee mug in the back of a girlfriend’s kitchen cupboard. It said on it: “you can take the girl out of Glasgow, but you can’t take the Glasgow out of the girl.” Well, this would be the perfect talisman to take to Montreal! “Could I have this?” I asked. “No,” she said, bewildered that I’d just ask to take something from her house.
I think this weird (occasional!) willingness to just take something that isn’t mine comes from years of minimalism because:
1. I’ve honed a pseudo-spiritual belief that ownership is a relatively empty concept. It’s rarely more than a case of displacement: a thing is “here” instead of “there.” Big deal.
2. The idea of things not being “in circulation” frustrates me. I don’t want anything to be neglected or out of service. It would be better to have X valued objects in the world, all moving around and everyone having a turn with them, than 1000X objects in the world, all locked away in boxes.
My literally criminal urge to “take” is probably the flipside of the more widely documented minimalist urge to give things away. When I’m done with something, I return it to the world by taking it to a charity shop, by listing it on eBay, or by leaving it on the street with a “please take” sign.
Or maybe I’m just a secret klepto.
You never really own anything. Either it breaks and becomes garbage, which you then surrender, or you die and someone else inherits it or throws it away.
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About Robert Wringham
Robert Wringham is the editor of New Escapologist. He also writes books and articles. Read more at wringham.co.uk