Musonius Rufus, Lectures 20.2

In general, one would rightly judge what is good and bad in furnishings by these three criteria: acquisition, use, and preservation. Whatever is difficult to obtain or not convenient to use or not easy to protect is to be judged inferior; but what we acquire with no difficulty and use with satisfaction and find easy to keep is superior. 

 

For this reason earthenware and iron and similar vessels are much better than those of silver or gold, because their acquisition is less trouble since they are cheaper, their usefulness is greater since we can safely expose them to heat and fire (which cannot be done with others) , and guarding them is less of a problem, for the inexpensive ones are less likely to be stolen than the expensive ones. 

 

No small part of preserving them too is keeping them clean, which is a more expensive matter with costly ones. Just as a horse that is bought for a small price but is able to fulfill many needs is more desirable than one which does little although he was bought for a great price, so in the matter of furnishings the cheaper and more serviceable are better than the more costly and less serviceable ones. 

 

I often feel the weight of a certain assumption, that all the luxuries of modern technology are absolute goods, as there is never any question that they make our lives easier, more pleasant, and safer. With this can also come a sort of disdain for the people of the past, because they were so unfortunate and ignorant as not to possess all these glorious devices. 

 

It is easy to think this way, confusing what is optional with what is necessary. It all comes down, as it does time and time again, to what I believe I need for a good life, to the distinction between a blessing and a burden. 

 

And yet I will have moments of clarity, where I recognize that all of these furnishings, gadgets, and accessories do not always make my life easier, more pleasant, and safer; quite often they make my life harder, more frustrating, and more dangerous. 

 

Instead of removing effort from my day, I instead spend ever more of my time and resources to purchase greater fineries. Working hard to be less busy ends up making me very busy indeed. 

 

Rather than providing me with contentment, I feel the constant urge to acquire that one more thing that I still don’t have. A man who is not happy with himself is never satisfied, and enough will perpetually be another step away. 

 

Through it all, I imagine that I am more secure in my person and my property, and yet I worry about all the ways I now need to keep my pile of booty. If it isn’t really mine to begin with, I must always despair of losing it. 

 

Hard to get, hard to use, hard to maintain. At what point did something like that actually sound preferable? It must have been at the point where I thought how impressive it looked mattered more than how well it worked. 

 

In those moments of clarity, however rare they may be, I might think of the example of my car. I am told that I absolutely need one, and even that every adult in my family needs one, because we have to get to more places more quickly. 

 

Why, pray tell, must I always be going further and further afield? So I can get the best job, you silly man, and earn enough money to buy a home as far away from that job as possible, and then make the payments on that very car to cover the distance between work in the city and the house in the suburbs, which is packed with all kinds of pleasant conveniences and safe from those dirty people in the city. 

 

Still, it’s funny that I never really get to sit back and enjoy those conveniences, since I’m usually working for them, or stuck in traffic. Now is my car carrying me around, or am I carrying my car around?

Written in 6/2000