Not Forced to be Reasonable

Luxury. Everyone has their own idea of what it is. The term luxury polarizes and hardens opinions. Put simply: some people think luxury is something noble to strive for, others find it superfluous in the truest sense of the word. Not surprisingly, almost every philosopher since antiquity has had an opinion on the subject, which, depending on the temperament of the thinker, has variably been condemned as dangerous, superficial, un-Christian and amoral, a reprehensible antithesis to Diogenes’ ascetic ideal. The same Diogenes who, as we all know, slept in a tub. But what exactly are we talking about here? Ultimately, luxury is an extremely fuzzy concept – and something like luxury research, which attempts to systematically determine if something is, objectively seen, luxury, does not exist.

Experience teaches us: we love luxury – for the simple reason that we can’t help ourselves. Luxury does us good.

That’s one aspect.

Another aspect is that you can make good money with luxury. Really good money. The luxury industry and luxury brands have experience in this regard. Entirely in keeping with the origin of the word, the Latin luxus promises not only “excess” and “wantonness,” but above all “sumptuous prosperity,” which certainly applies to the extravagant profit margins of functioning luxury companies.

So much for a closer look at the phenomenon of our fascination with luxury.

Quite simple, in principle.

But it isn’t.

Because, among other things, our notion of luxury is currently in a process of change. Once again. Our concept of luxury is in flux. Suddenly there is an “old” and a “new” luxury. The house/sportscar/ boat paradigm that we grew up with is suddenly falling out of fashion, has become unappealing, as inner values seem to be in demand. Or things like time, moments of luxury as an experience.

Today’s high-net-worth individuals, those super-wealthy dream customers for the luxury industry, continue to sashay casually through the densely woven marketing and communication networks of the traditional luxury world, albeit with recalibrated value and pleasure concepts. There is talk of a paradigm shift and of enlightened, reflected luxury. 

The term luxury is alive.

And now?

We’re faced with the question as to how to deal with it.

In short: we’ve got a luxury problem.

So?

Let’s start with what we will always have: namely, ourselves. If you want to understand what moves people, you need to know what makes people tick, i.e. what makes them what they are, regardless of accidental or forced circumstances or trends. Our emotional system is evolutionarily calibrated to provide us with a more or less automatic evaluation of every situation we encounter. The main criterion: something could be of benefit for us, or it could be a disadvantage. This simple sorting into positive and negative triggers accompanying feelings of desire or aversion and so controls our actions. The positive is sought, the negative is avoided. Unfortunately, this often happens unconsciously.

The possession of desirable objects is an ornament. We adorn ourselves with them. They are part of and medium for sexual and social competition through aesthetic means. This competition has several basic rules. One of them is: the more elaborate an ornament (for example a car or a watch), the more reliably I prove to be in possession of superior resources and the higher the probability of social advantages. Advertising for luxury products did not invent this rule. The whole of nature is overflowing with phenomena that can only be explained as a result of competitive investment in seemingly superfluous yet actually highly effective ornaments.

A peacock knows exactly what we mean.

What do we really know about why we buy what we buy? Only rarely do we act on the basis of rational calculation; instead, we are guided by emotions, automatisms and associations. Outside the control of reason, this “implicit system” of the psyche – as scientists call it – determines our actions. The brain makes its decisions in secret. This becomes particularly evident when buying non-essential things. Here we make a decision because we want to send a signal. The combination of feeling good about ourselves and sending a message out to the world: “I’m worth it.” “I can afford it.” “I belong.”

Or even: “I’m better.”

Not much will change about that.

Our evolution says: class not dismissed.

But today’s late-modern consumers in free Western societies are far from and beyond understanding luxury first and foremost as opulence, i.e. as expenditures or amenities that go beyond the established social norm. Instead, sociologists, cultural scholars, market researchers, trend analysts and futurists all agree that luxury consumption today, especially in conscious dissociation from an increasingly quantitatively oriented society, is understood far more qualitatively: as the conscious, preferably sustainable and in any case responsible consumption of enlightened economic subjects for whom values are more important than price.

Luxury products are still regarded in the classic sense as goods of exceptional value and quality, characterized by exclusivity, i.e. scarcity, as reflected in their price. But today’s consumer is also interested in authentic, established values that imbue the luxury product with a sense of aura and acknowledgment. Still truly luxurious today are products, services and events that combine top quality with emotionally and intellectually stimulating and inspiring experiences. Excess, wastefulness and quantity are becoming less important, as are senseless posturing and meaningless displays of pretense.

Such a “new,” “enlightened” understanding of luxury is defined not by proliferation but by reduction, not by accumulation but by avoidance, for in times of abundance, minimalism and renunciation prove to be just as extravagant, rare and desirable as ostentatious waste in times of scarcity. Refinement has always been a characteristic of luxury, but today it no longer shows itself in the complexity and addition of ornament, but rather in reduction, minimization, elegant simplicity, in the omission of ornamentation, in the aesthetics of functionality and a return to the practical value of things.

And suddenly the focus is on us, more consistently than ever. Personality and individualism are what matter, along with values and attitude. Everything is more private and more individual. We are authentic, feel good and want to feel good – and we show this as self-confidently as we are self-determined. And we are curious, interested. What happens is what is so wonderfully summed up by the French verb connaître. We know things, are familiar with them, but above all we become acquainted. Something happens. We become connoisseurs and enjoy life. Gladly, we also focus on things of relevance, on expanding and refining our knowledge and on seeking inspiration and motivation. Knowledge, connoisseurship and experiences are more important than things, brands are becoming forms of experience, and in this culture a new generation of luxury consumers makes optimal use of their knowledge to find the best for themselves rather than the most expensive.

Luxury is never about material or objective value, certainly not about price. In his 2015 book A Philosophy of Luxury, German philosopher Lambert Wiesing develops a decidedly perception-based approach that is far removed from any subjective evaluation – and so presents a change of perspective. Luxury, he points out, is not an attribute of things or actions, but a very personal, aesthetic experience. Luxury as a phenomenon in the specifically phenomenological sense of the word becomes something that is for somebody. Living in abundance therefore does not mean experiencing luxury; luxury lives from the fact that a certain positive and very individual experience is connected with something that is actually superfluous – and this experience can certainly have a rebellious component. Because the experience of luxury not only includes exceeding one’s own idea of what is appropriate – luxury stands for the liberation from the monopolizing rule of instrumental rationalism and efficiency dictates.

“In moments of experiencing luxury,” says Wiesing, “the living person feels that he or she is alive, and that a person can be reasonable only if he or she is not forced to be reasonable.” As in art, the breaking of rules, the denial of conventions, is experienced positively. Wiesing calls it the “Dadaism of possession.” Luxury as a self-aware rebellion against the status quo. With road-movie feeling. Luxury, with a supreme sense of self-confidence, exudes autonomy and freedom.

Best enjoyed relaxed and in a cheerful mood.

After all, our world belongs to us.

Pure luxury.