Actually, I bought nothing except a few used vinyl records (some real bargains) and a bike bag. For the latter, I tried to find a used one, but I couldn’t agree on a price with any sellers on eBay. Some of them wanted to charge almost the price of a new bag for worn-out ones, without the very practical mounts that are available today. I got burned by the offers from Valkental and 2bag. Both do great marketing, but the Valkental bag lasted 5 minutes on the bike before the mount broke, and 2bag simply couldn’t deliver.
My “slip-up” from January and the synthesizer I bought in April are listed on eBay.
The month of May went very well, except for one expensive purchase that I couldn’t avoid: I lost my glasses. No idea how I managed that, but I had to buy a new pair. It was very expensive 🙁 However, since it’s not a luxury item or a consumable, I’m not counting it towards this project.
Additionally, I bought a music stand, which I couldn’t find used, at least not the way I wanted it. That’s it. The cost was 16.99 euros.
A few used vinyl records also came my way, but I’m not counting those towards this project either.
I will be compiling everything about minimalism in the coming weeks and months, based on my experiences, mistakes, and insights so far. The article will be updated continuously.
What is minimalism?
In addition to being an art movement, minimalism has developed into a lifestyle in recent years. There was even a documentary on Netflix about the topic, narrated by authors Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus. On Prime Video, there was the documentary My Stuff – What Do You Really Need, in which the protagonist brought all his belongings to a storage unit and was allowed to take out only one item each day. The fact that he had to run through the city naked in the snow to get to the storage unit at the beginning should not be interpreted as representative of the minimalist movement. Even German television produced a report on the subject, from NDR, titled How Many Things Do We Really Need?
In Germany, minimalists Christof Herrmann and Verena Schürmann are particularly well known, alongside a few others. Depending on who you read, you may come across very alternative lifestyles, but also people who want to live with fewer things, while still leading a relatively normal life. I count myself among the latter group. Of course, there have always been people living in a minimalist way, not always because they wanted to, and certainly, they wouldn’t have called it that themselves. However, the conscious reduction to fewer material possessions seems to be a trend of recent decades. One of the pioneers, even though he probably wouldn’t see himself as such, is Dieter Rams with his design credo “Less, but better.”
For me, minimalism means, on one hand, that I only buy what I truly need. Of course, the line between needs and desires isn’t always clear, and I focus on what truly fulfills my life— and those are not material things. On the other hand, minimalism for me means surrounding myself only with things that make me happy and/or have high utility. Naturally, I’m not perfect, and I’m not always consistent. For example, I’m writing these lines on an Apple MacBook Air M1 with 16 GB RAM and a 2TB SSD. Is that really absolutely necessary? Certainly not. I could be writing these lines on an old used Linux computer. I could also question whether this blog is necessary at all. But I’ve significantly reduced my gadget collection over the last few months. Since 2007, I’ve gone through stronger and weaker phases of minimalism; back then, I even tried not buying anything new for six months. But I wasn’t always strong.
What are the benefits of minimalism?
There are quite a few benefits, and here are probably the most important ones:
The less you have, the less you have to clean. You spend less time tidying up or looking for things.
When you have less, things look tidier right away. That’s incredibly calming.
The less you have, the less you have to take care of. Every item comes with additional costs, whether it’s the space it takes up or the time it requires.
You save your family a lot of time. If something happens to you and your family has to empty your place, they’ll be grateful if there aren’t thousands of things cluttering the apartment.
You’re helping the environment. Because everything that isn’t bought doesn’t have to be produced, doesn’t consume raw materials, and won’t later end up in a landfill, polluting the environment. Now, that’s a good argument!
You save a lot of money. Often, the things we buy aren’t really worth as much as we pay for them, something we realize when we try to get rid of them.
Getting rid of things is a topic in itself, because it’s often associated with effort. You don’t have that issue if you don’t buy anything in the first place 🙂 In the last few months, I’ve sold quite a bit on eBay/eBay Kleinanzeigen, and aside from the fact that in most cases I got far less for the items than I paid, it was often quite annoying. Even though I met a lot of nice people.
You need less space, possibly fewer pieces of furniture, and ultimately, a smaller apartment.
My “wardrobe” is a good example of how little you really need. And there are certainly people who have even less.
What are the disadvantages of minimalism?
Living minimally is just as unconventional in society as, for example, not drinking alcohol.
When I sold my car in 2011, friends and acquaintances told me that I was selling my freedom. In reality, I gained freedom because, as stated in Fight Club, the things you own actually own you. A car requires maintenance, parking, washing, etc. Okay, I have an advantage – I live in the city. But even with other examples, like not having a TV, questions arise. Many people won’t understand this, maybe because they’d have to question their own behavior. I can definitely say that it’s always a conversation topic, just like when I don’t drink alcohol at a business dinner. You easily get suspected of being a recovering alcoholic.
What’s the difference between minimalism and frugality?
Frugality is about learning to live with little money and saving enough to either reduce work hours or eventually stop working altogether. There are obvious overlaps with minimalism, but not every minimalist is necessarily part of the FIRE movement (Financial Independence, Retire Early). On the other hand, every frugal person will have to live minimally to achieve their goals.
I live somewhere in between. I haven’t resorted to eating from the trash, and I don’t constantly calculate how much interest I’ll lose by buying a sandwich at 50. But I don’t buy pointless things anymore, as you’ll see in the next section.
How to start with minimalism?
In my opinion, there are two main tasks:
Emptying your home
Changing your consumption behavior
For the first point, there’s a lot of literature available, such as Marie Kondo’s books. Kondo focuses mainly on asking what really makes you happy about the items in your home. She also has her own tidying technique. Some of it I use too, for example, how to fold T-shirts. It really does make things easier. But I wouldn’t label Marie Kondo as a minimalist. A good question to ask when decluttering is whether you would buy the item again. Another common question is what to do with something that hasn’t been used in years. Often, you delay the decision, so the items neither go away nor have a proper place. In reality, it’s not necessarily the things that weigh us down, but the decisions we need to make about what to do with them. Making decisions is exhausting.
Additional tips:
Sell/donate anything you haven’t used or worn in the last year.
Sell/donate anything broken that you can’t repair.
Do you really need three can openers? The expensive food processor you never use?
Get rid of books that you don’t love.
Use public libraries.
If this already sounds difficult, it gets even harder with the second point. Our consumption habits are the biggest problem. If we don’t get them under control, our home will quickly be filled with clutter again. It’s also not made easy for us to resist. And I have my biggest weaknesses with certain things. For example: When I see a new gadget that I think might help me, I’m usually quick to head to Amazon… but now, I close the browser as soon as I realize it. I used to be constantly looking for the next tool that might help. But now, I don’t believe in tools anymore. With every impulse to buy something, you should quarantine that desire. Is the urge still there after one day, seven days, or 30 days? For example: When the Apple AirPods Max were released, I ordered them. I eagerly awaited them. And then I barely used them. I thought I’d use them all the time, but unlike the AirPods Pro, which I’ve been using daily for over a year, the Max were often empty. I didn’t need two pairs of headphones. It was a total mistake to fall for the advertising. And after six months, I lost 200 Euros when I sold them. For maybe 20 uses. That’s 10 Euros per use. An expensive hobby. And surely everyone has examples like that.
When is it done right?
There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to this. You can only answer this question for yourself.
I’ve been blogging about minimalism for 15 years. Digital minimalism is another form of conscious consumption. And apparently, the topic strikes a chord, because otherwise, Der Spiegel wouldn’t have locked an interview about it behind their paywall (“How to Break Free from Your Smartphone”):
Cal Newport’s Digital Minimalism contrasts with his other bestseller Deep Work in that it doesn’t focus on work and productivity, but rather on our entire lives and the impact technology has on them.
Daniel Levitin’s The Organized Mindshowed how easily our brains can be distracted, while Newport presents the opposite side: the attention economy, which primarily benefits those who can successfully market our time to advertisers. Those who think this is a modern phenomenon are mistaken—this started with the introduction of penny newspapers in 1830, where the readers were no longer the customers, but the advertisers in a newspaper.
According to Newport, the unconscious use of social media leads to exhaustion, anxiety, depression, and, above all, a waste of life’s time. Arguments such as social media helping us stay in touch with friends and family are countered by the point that this is not high-quality interaction—more “connection” than “conversation,” as Sherry Turkle distinguishes. When relationships are less digital (or when digital communication is used only to facilitate traditional communication), they are actually strengthened. The time we spend on Facebook and similar platforms is not only spent on lower-quality conversations but also on mindless scrolling through updates that give us the illusion of connection while leaving us feeling lonely.
However, Newport doesn’t advocate for completely abandoning technology. Instead, he encourages us to adopt a different attitude toward it, and he even paraphrases Dieter Rams’ phrase “Less, but better.” This leads to what he calls a digital declutter. Ironically, it was Steve Jobs, who was focused on mindfulness, who ensured that we carry around with us the symbol of constant connectivity in the form of the iPhone. His original goal was simply to have one device for both phone and iPod. The fact that the iPhone could also access the internet wasn’t even mentioned until late in the original keynote. We weren’t prepared for it. And suddenly, there was an app for everything:
We didn’t have time to think about what we truly wanted to get out of these new technologies (and even if we did think about it, like I did back then when I didn’t want a Blackberry, we later found too many reasons why a Blackberry might actually be a good idea). And since then, the door has been wide open for those who want to shape new habits in us:
Nir Eyal’s bestseller Hookeddescribes this mechanism in great detail. Fairly, Eyal also wrote the antidote to it. However, Eyal’s approach is not as elegant as Newport’s; it deals more with the symptoms, even though it sometimes touches on the causes. Where Eyal says that you can take back your time, Newport suggests you first consider what you want to fill it with. The mechanisms both describe, however, are the same.
Every post for which we might get a like or retweet is, for us, the same as using a slot machine—it triggers a dopamine release. The goal is to regain our autonomy and join the attention resistance, as Newport puts it. Digital minimalism, for him, is:
A philosophy of technology use where you focus your online time on a small number of carefully selected and optimized activities that strongly support what matters to you, while ignoring everything else. (my translation)
To this, he quotes Thoreau in Walden:
The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.
This, of course, applies not only to social media & co. When someone buys a new sports car, they also need to consider how much life energy goes into working for that car and whether it’s worth it to drive a sports car in exchange for that time. The profit gained from something must be weighed against the cost of the life energy needed to obtain it. Conversely, technology should be considered optional, as long as its temporary absence doesn’t cause the collapse of one’s (work) life. Can I no longer live a meaningful life without an app, or does the app simply provide some added value that I could get elsewhere? This is in stark contrast to FOMO. To truly understand which technologies are genuinely valuable, Newport suggests a 30-day break.
As I write this, I am on the 8th day of my digital break. Newport really makes this break seem appealing, and I even started it before I had finished reading the book. During the reading, I paused my Facebook profile and deactivated my Twitter account (dangerous, because after 30 days, it is permanently lost). Instagram is deleted, as are Telegram and WhatsApp. These many ways people could contact me had already been annoying. Then, I even uninstalled email. These exact steps were already suggested in Make Time, but for Newport, it’s not about dogmatically banning all these apps, but rather about understanding what you truly miss.
In fact, I only bought my last phone because I wanted the best camera and didn’t want to carry around another camera. I enjoy listening to music. And occasionally, I like to make calls. So, here’s what my home screen looks like now:
Of the slot machines, only Signal, Apple Messages, and Safari as a browser are installed. Everything else is either essential (for example, banking—no longer possible without a phone) or helpful (e.g., the Corona app). Additionally, I’ve now set the Do Not Disturb mode as the default. Only my favorites can still call me, but their messages won’t come through either. However, this isn’t just about distraction.
Solitude (better translated here as seclusion and not as loneliness) requires the ability to be undisturbed and not have to react to everything, or the freedom from input from others. Seclusion demands that we come to terms with ourselves when we are alone, allowing for deep thinking. Our desire for social interaction must therefore be complemented by periods of solitude. How much this already occupied me 14 years ago is shown in this blog post from 2007.
But Newport goes even further. It’s not just about stopping certain activities; as mentioned earlier, you must also consider what to do with the time and attention you’ve gained, so you don’t fall into a void. The smartphone allows us to quickly escape such moments. Most systems already track how often that happens:
(On that day, I made several changes to the configuration, which is why the value was so high.)
Newport suggests writing letters to oneself, engaging in real conversations (instead of chatting, liking, or commenting), joining an offline group, or doing something non-digital with your hands. I’m out when it comes to crafting, but at least I can play instruments. The point is to deliver your best, quoting Rogowiski:
Leave good evidence of yourself. Do good work.
Not using Facebook and the like should therefore not be seen as a sign that you’ve become some kind of eccentric. It should be viewed as a bold act of resistance against the attention economy. This has become increasingly difficult, as we now carry a full-fledged computer with us at all times and actively have to seek ways to limit its possibilities. Still, my reMarkable is one of my favorite work tools. I can’t check emails on it or quickly look something up. And more and more, I’m only using that device when I sit on the couch in the evening.
Furthermore, Newport’s approach means that you need to carefully examine where you still want to gather information. I reactivated Twitter after a week, but unfollowed almost everyone because I only want to follow those who truly provide valuable content. And that’s a very small number. A kind of information diet, so to speak.
I’m not at the point yet where I want to have a Light Phone or leave my smartphone at home most of the time (the Light Phone isn’t available in Germany yet). For now, the camera in my phone is still too important to me (I used to always carry a Fujifilm X100, whose battery was always dead at the critical moments). But after just a few days of digital break, I can already hardly imagine going back to Facebook or spending the first minutes of my day reading through feeds.
On one of the first pages of the book Essentialism, McKeown quotes Dieter Rams, “Less but better.” It’s hard to find a better definition of Essentialism. I am reading this book in an armchair next to the 606 shelving system designed by Rams in 1960, and when I look up from the book, I see a poster of the film Rams, which I had co-financed a few years ago through Kickstarter. I can report firsthand that it’s not enough to surround yourself with objects by Dieter Rams if you want to dedicate yourself to Essentialism. 🙂
The Essentialism defined by McKeown is based on the following core principles:
If you don’t set priorities in your life, someone else will do it for you. Therefore, we must learn to say “No” so we can truly make a contribution. While we don’t always have control over our options, we do have control over choosing between them. It’s about not just recognizing that you have a choice, but also celebrating the possibility of choosing. If it’s not a clear “Yes,” then it’s a clear “No.” Instead of asking how to do everything at once, the question should be asked: which problem do you want to have? Some people require more “maintenance” than others, but they steal your time and turn their problems into yours.
The question an Essentialist should constantly ask themselves is: “Am I investing myself in the right activities?” It’s not about getting things done (as in GTD), but about getting the right things done. A lot is less important than it initially appears. The most important and difficult things should be done first.
We are not designed to have so many choices and make so many decisions for ourselves. This ties into Barry Schwartz’s observations in his book The Paradox of Choice.
We should reflect on what we truly want, best by asking three questions:
What deeply inspires me?
What am I particularly talented at?
What fulfills an important need in the world?
McKeown suggests an iterative process: Explore, Eliminate, Execute. For Execution, it’s important to withdraw to focus. “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.” The Latin origin of the word “decision” comes from “cis” or “cid,” meaning to cut or even kill. Stephen King said, writing is human, cutting is divine.
The most important asset we possess is ourselves—our mind, our body. We must invest in them to get the best out of ourselves. What is the obstacle preventing us from achieving what we really want?
The Greeks had two words for time: Chronos, the time we measure, and Kairos, the time we feel when we live in the present. The Essentialist lives time in Kairos. Multitasking is not the problem; the belief that we can multitask is. The most important question: “What is truly important in this moment?” Occasionally, when overwhelmed with many competing tasks, you must pause and see what is really important.
Overall, the points are not new; they are more of a re-compilation of what already exists. What’s nice is that McKeown brings in various historical examples to illustrate his points. At times, the book repeats itself. Still, a recommended read.
On my desk there are piles of cut-out newspaper articles about which I want to blog, but this entry fits the Live Earth day that has just taken place. First of all, there is the article from the New York Times, which was printed as a supplement in the Süddeutsche Zeitung on June 25, 2007, “Living in the Grip of Technology”. In it, Laurie J. Flynn reports on buyers of a second camera, a second iPod, a two-computer and so on. For example, an iPod is bought solely for jogging because you are afraid of damaging the large model while running. Or a second digital camera is bought that can do more than the mid-range model, which was initially intended to be content with. Or you can buy a smaller camera for on the go. The increasing popularity of laptops has also led to households owning more than one computer. The typical American household reportedly has 25 electronic devices and spends an average of $1,200 annually on new devices. One could understand this as a counter-movement to The Compact. Don’t consume less, but more and more (Herwig Mitteregger’s “Immer mehr” comes to mind, but he meant something completely different; it’s a pity that he doesn’t seem to make music anymore btw).
About my The Compact activities: Almost 4 months have now passed, and my consumption has actually been reduced. The exception here are books, but even here I bought less than usual and try to read the ones I already have. But there were also purchases of new goods:
A pair of running shoes: You can’t buy them second-hand, not with the best will in the world, but that’s not what The Compact philosophy demands.
A new toaster. Ok, you can argue about that. Somehow I find used toasters unhygienic, and it was a tempting offer after the old toaster had been around more and more.
And now it comes: a piano. I bought a new piano, not a classical, but a digital piano, and of course you can see that as an absolute sin. On the other hand, I had wanted a piano for a very, very long time (I otherwise only own old synthesizers, which always have to be wired up and connected in my mini-studio, spontaneous strumming is impossible), and I have been looking for a used model for many months. In addition, our daughter’s music teacher had given me first-class advice, and his offer included delivery and a small discount. I hadn’t found a used model cheaper (new goods were always more expensive on eBay!), not to mention that I would have had the trouble with transport on eBay. But as it was, the piano was delivered, assembled and subjected to a function test; the packaging was also taken back. I also try to calm my conscience a little by saying that The Compact allows the consumption of culture, albeit immaterial. The piano is extremely material, but it allows the creation of the immaterial. Anyway, I don’t have a guilty conscience about the piano. The first piece I played was from the Well-Tempered Clavier
Another variant of anti-consumption are the freegans (comes from vegans), which was also reported in the New York Times supplement of the Süddeutsche (issue of July 2). In contrast to The Compact, Freeganism has been around since the mid-90s, which is explained in detail on the accompanying website Freegan.info. The article describes how the freegans rummage through the garbage containers for recyclables the evening after the last lecture at NYU. Many rich students leave the campus and throw goods in the garbage, which cause the freegans to rub their eyes: In addition to unused stamps, there is a fully functional Sharp TV and beautiful pictures. But freegans go even further and eat food that has just expired or negotiate with supermarkets about surpluses that are not sold. In addition, they organize freemeets, flea markets where no money is exchanged. They do all this to protest against out-of-control consumption and to deprive companies of support.
In Hamburg, I see more and more people rummaging through the garbage cans, not because they are against consumption, but because they can’t afford anything else. Of course, you can see that in America as well, and I wonder how those who can’t help it think about those who don’t want to do otherwise. Or about those who are just buying their second iPod.
ATTENTION: The Compact has NOTHING to do with the magazine Compact!
4 weeks ago I had decided to renounce consumption for 6 months and not to buy anything new. First of all: It’s easier than you think, and it’s relieving. You no longer have to buy anything at the last minute just because you want to buy something. However, I also have to report failures:
1 pair of jeans (one broke, and I didn’t have the time to go buy a used one between two business trips)
1 memory card for the digital camera (during the vacation I had to choose whether we either take fewer photos or buy the memory; eBay was out of the question at short notice)
1 software update (absolutely pointless, the software had done well before)
1 book for the daughter’s heart
All in all, not the big editions, but annoying except for the book (I think I will generally allow exceptions for books, as long as the books are really read immediately; I can’t always wait until a book is available used for professional reasons). Since food is allowed, I brought chocolate from the business trips or we used gifts that we had “in stock”. My girlfriend benefited from the whole story in that some purchases were due for her; also expenses for concerts etc. are allowed, and thus the wallet has not really been spared.
The participants in the Compact group at Yahoo! go much further, some are thinking about how to save on gas, water and electricity, which leads to suggestions such as using water several times (taking washing water for the toilet). Saving energy is a good idea, and I have decided not to leave my computer in sleep mode anymore, but to really shut it down when I don’t need it.
Even more radical is a couple on the East Coast who call their experiment No Impact and about whom even the New York Times has written: They live only on organic food grown within a 400-kilometer radius of Manhattan, produce no waste except compost, use no paper and do not use carbon-fueled transportation. No toilet paper. The project is not entirely altruistic, because the husband is a writer and uses what he has experienced for a new book.
Even though I’m not quite as radical, the first 4 weeks went quite well. This is now my plan for the next month:
Get rid of everything on ebay that I don’t really need
No more buying drinks in plastic bottles or paper cups (if it can be avoided, this is a bit difficult when traveling by air, after all, you can no longer bring your own drinks)
Always shut down the computers in the evening, as well as do not leave the TV/DVD player on standby
Finally read the books that are still unread on the shelf
ATTENTION: The Compact has NOTHING to do with the magazine Compact!
In the New York Times supplement of yesterday’s Süddeutsche Zeitung, there is a report on a group that has decided not to buy anything new for 6 months. The goals of the group, which calls itself The Compact, are as follows:
Going beyond recycling to counteract the negative global environmental and socio-economic impacts of the throwaway and consumer society and to support local companies and farmers
Reduce the clutter and garbage in your home
Simplify your life
There are two principles to achieve these goals:
Don’t buy new products of any kind from stores, websites, etc
Borrow, exchange or buy used
There are exceptions, of course you can buy personal things such as laundry, toothpaste and toothbrush, and of course you have to buy something to eat. It is also allowed to spend money on intangible things such as music or sports. It’s not about castigating oneself, but about reflective consumption.
In addition to the financial savings, the participants say they get more time that had previously been lost due to shopping and its effects.
The group’s action turned into a global movement. More information can be found in the Yahoo! group, of which there is now also a European counterpart, as well as a blog.
For me as a gadget addict, this is both a nightmare and a relief, and I have several questions:
Can I bring surprises from long journeys to my loved ones at home?
Can I buy a new battery for my computer if the old one is flat?
What about software?
Apart from these questions, I will start today. And I will report on it. 6 months.
