What Is The Diderot Effect?
Accumulation of stuff seems to be the new success metric. Here is a story about Diderot that will illustrate the point.
In the 18th century, a French writer, Denis Diderot received a gift: a beautiful scarlet dressing gown. The
fabric was gorgeous. The colours were rich. The craftsmanship was
spectacular.
Diderot immediately threw his tattered old gown away. He did not need it anymore. His new gown was breathtaking. Of course, he needed to make a few extra purchases to accommodate that gown. In the past, if one of his books was covered with dust, he would simply use his old gown as a rag. But he could not wipe away dust with his beautiful new gown. He’d need to buy some dust rags.
When there was excess ink on his pen, he used his old gown to wipe it clear. He couldn’t do that with the new gown. He’d need to buy handkerchiefs, or perhaps he’d need better pens. But those are small purchases, right? A small price to pay to maintain such a beautiful gown.
Diderot began to notice that the rest of his home looked shabby in comparison to the gown. His drapes were threadbare and faded, in contract to the rich colours of the gown. He’d need to replace them.
He often sat in a straw chair. He didn’t want the gown to snag on the fibers. His gown looked silly on such a cheap old chair, anyway. He bought a chair
upholstered in rich Moroccan leather, with colors that suited the scarlet tones of his gown.
He spent most of his day sitting at his desk, wearing the gown. But the gown didn’t match the rickety desk. It would be the 18th-century equivalent of wearing a crisp Armani suit while sitting at a beat-up Walmart desk. So Diderot purchased an expensive new desk.
Once he had that desk, though, his paintings looked amateurish and faded. He needed more exquisite art on his walls, art that matched the desk and
drapes. Soon, Diderot plunged into debt.
Fast-Forward to the 21st Century
You buy a new home. Now you need new furniture to fill that home.
You but a new car. Now you need professional car washes and nicer hubcaps.
You buy a beautiful shirt. But you don’t have jeans or a blazer to match.
You have an iPad, but you need a case. Preferably a nice one.
Your home has a huge lawn, which you need to landscape. That costs two weeks’ pay
You found great shoes, but they don’t really coordinate with anything else in your closet ….
So you jump on an “escalator.” You upsell yourself. It’s called the Diderot Effect.
So What Happened to Diderot?
Diderot wrote an essay outlining his regret. His beautiful scarlet gown had become a curse, not a blessing.
He missed his faded, tattered robe, he wrote. Its folds fit comfortably around his body. Its dust-and-ink stains reflected the life of “a writer, a man who
works.”
“I was absolute master of my old dressing gown,” Diderot said, “but I have become a slave to my new one.”
In the 18th century, a French writer, Denis Diderot received a gift: a beautiful scarlet dressing gown. The
fabric was gorgeous. The colours were rich. The craftsmanship was
spectacular.
Diderot immediately threw his tattered old gown away. He did not need it anymore. His new gown was breathtaking. Of course, he needed to make a few extra purchases to accommodate that gown. In the past, if one of his books was covered with dust, he would simply use his old gown as a rag. But he could not wipe away dust with his beautiful new gown. He’d need to buy some dust rags.
When there was excess ink on his pen, he used his old gown to wipe it clear. He couldn’t do that with the new gown. He’d need to buy handkerchiefs, or perhaps he’d need better pens. But those are small purchases, right? A small price to pay to maintain such a beautiful gown.
Diderot began to notice that the rest of his home looked shabby in comparison to the gown. His drapes were threadbare and faded, in contract to the rich colours of the gown. He’d need to replace them.
He often sat in a straw chair. He didn’t want the gown to snag on the fibers. His gown looked silly on such a cheap old chair, anyway. He bought a chair
upholstered in rich Moroccan leather, with colors that suited the scarlet tones of his gown.
He spent most of his day sitting at his desk, wearing the gown. But the gown didn’t match the rickety desk. It would be the 18th-century equivalent of wearing a crisp Armani suit while sitting at a beat-up Walmart desk. So Diderot purchased an expensive new desk.
Once he had that desk, though, his paintings looked amateurish and faded. He needed more exquisite art on his walls, art that matched the desk and
drapes. Soon, Diderot plunged into debt.
Fast-Forward to the 21st Century
You buy a new home. Now you need new furniture to fill that home.
You but a new car. Now you need professional car washes and nicer hubcaps.
You buy a beautiful shirt. But you don’t have jeans or a blazer to match.
You have an iPad, but you need a case. Preferably a nice one.
Your home has a huge lawn, which you need to landscape. That costs two weeks’ pay
You found great shoes, but they don’t really coordinate with anything else in your closet ….
So you jump on an “escalator.” You upsell yourself. It’s called the Diderot Effect.
So What Happened to Diderot?
Diderot wrote an essay outlining his regret. His beautiful scarlet gown had become a curse, not a blessing.
He missed his faded, tattered robe, he wrote. Its folds fit comfortably around his body. Its dust-and-ink stains reflected the life of “a writer, a man who
works.”
“I was absolute master of my old dressing gown,” Diderot said, “but I have become a slave to my new one.”