Economy of objects
By Alfons Cornella

The economy of consumerism promotes our constant purchase of (mostly useless) household items. The ridiculously cheap (so we are told) production of all sorts of objects, in countries whose labour legislation would fit on a cigarette paper (in a size 28 font), means that we have at our disposal a range of the most pointless things – from biros, kitchen utensils, keyrings or wind-up walking dentures – at stupid prices. Most people used to own one watch. Today we have at least 10.[11]

We are an economy of objects, let’s not kid ourselves. For example, newspapers are free. And the ones we have to pay for more often than not come with added incentives: a series of cds, a holiday novel, or a set of encyclopaedias. Even online subscriptions are encouraged by a free digital version (on a physical cd, of course). The message, to me, seems clear: information is worthless. It is just the accompaniment to an impulse-buy object. Paradoxically, the newspaper is no more than wrapping[12].

On the other hand, we copy dvds and cds without thinking about it. Digitised information is difficult to resist. But the young people who compulsively copy dvds will also defy any rules of patience queuing for hours to spend a fortune on tickets for a concert. They are not prepared to spend money on the cd object; they demand the concert experience for their cash.

So, we’re not just a culture of objects (things) but also of experiences (emotions). We are hands (the tools and trinkets) and brain, but in this digital age our brains are filled with all sorts of low-cost information and ideas, and appreciates sensations more than reasons. The age of pure reason was over a long time ago.

Making objects (and today making emotional experiences) is the basis of our economy. Adam Smith, with his artificial example of the specialist needle industry, said so a long time ago. The problem is that the production of these objects, which used to be carried out in our cities, now often takes place in the most remote places of the planet.

We are told that this is the law of life, and if others can produce goods (better and more cheaply), we need to devote ourselves to thinking of new things (innovation and design) and commercialising them (selling objects and services).

This would be fine if there were only a few of us, but actually we are many. And we don’t all have a PhD in telecommunications or a well-paid job designing new versions of mathematically perfect aerials. There are many of us who have neither the talent to design new things nor the skills to sell them.

The Scandinavian people have understood this for a while. Many of their businesses concentrate on the conception and production of particular objects (specialist production): medical instruments, all types of tools, new materials, telecommunications, exclusive electrical goods, etc. The Scandinavians seem to have accepted that the path to success is the multiplication of science by business: to invent new concepts, based on a finely-tuned understanding of the world, and to be able to apply them to finding solutions to common problems (which are infinitely and profoundly varied)[13].

[11] Buying a piece of jewellery used to be a special thing, a rare occasion. Today it’s more of a digital routine; see for example how diamonds can be bought on the Internet at BlueNile.

[12] And not only when it gets used later for wrapping, but from the moment we buy it…

[13] So what we must do, I am convinced, is to water society so that new entrepreneurs can flourish who believe in science as an engine of business; in science as the only form of finding disruptions in materials and in energy, and thus come up with new solutions to our problems.