"Minimalism" seems to be another one of those things that's becoming trendy nowadays. It's a lifestyle that promotes a philosophical and spiritual cleansing, the type that is supposed to strip an individual down to his or her essence, void of the clutter of temptation and material desire. However, some argue that the "trend-ifying" of minimalism flies in the face of movement's purest intentions, and that the fad simply would not exist were it not for the complex underbelly of global circuitry supporting it. Gadgetry and increasingly complicated, minimalist tech (complicated/minimalist... oxymoron much?) helps to fuel the minimalist ascetic, further confusing the spirit of the trend.
Minimalism and Silicon Valley Techno-Oppression
Author Kyle Chayka wrote an article for the New York Times called "The Oppressive Gospel of 'Minimalism'" in which he argues that minimalism is a fad. He notes that "despite its connotations of absence, 'minimalism' has been popping up everywhere lately, like a bright algae bloom in the murk of post recession America."
In stark contrast to the idea that minimalism strips away familiar connotation, that pure perception is clouded by assumption, and even that "less is more", Chayka argues that minimalism has become a luxury product, in a sense. The term has become conflated with self-optimization, the author writes, and is often driven by expensive technology branded by and for the elite. He writes:
In Silicon Valley, the minimalism fetish can perhaps be traced back to Steve Jobs's famously austere 1980s apartment (he sat on the floor) and the attendant simplicity of Apple products. Pare down, and you, too, could run a $700 billion company... the movement, such as it is, is led in large part by a group of men who gleefully ditch their possessions as if to disavow the advantages by which they obtained them. But it takes a lot to be minimalist: social capital, a safety net and access to the internet. The technology we call minimalist might fit in our pockets, but it depends on a vast infrastructure of grim, air-conditioned server farms and even grimmer Chinese factories.
The point is that this idea of "minimalism" as an ascetic and a lifestyle is often not minimalist at all. It only provides the illusion of minimalism, while providing the reality of simplification and optimization. If an ascetically minimalist house is built on a massive, complex and intricately woven-together foundation, can you really call it 'minimalist'? Similarly, if the new minimalist movement stands on the back of a complex global trade and financial system, and is driven by technology that half the world's population could never afford, is it truly minimalist? Isn't it completely absurd to think that you wouldn't be able to "afford" to be minimalist?
Is There Merit to Being a Techno-Ascetic?
Chayka's article in The NY Times seems to be spurred by James Altucher's blog post "How Minimalism Brought Me Freedom and Joy". Chayka refers to Altucher first as a "wealthy serial entrepreneur" and then as a "wandering techno-ascetic--Silicon Valley's version of Zen monkhook," using both extremes to show the oxymoron inherent in a post that's emblematic of the budding genre. Minimalism aside, most people agree that having less will make you happier--in fact, many religions, including Zen Buddhism, mentioned above, actively shun attachment to material objects. It's perhaps too poetic to call it proof, but the studies showing that money spent on experiences rather than objects seeming to make spenders happier parallels these ancient beliefs. To top it off, optimization and paring down things to make them "Zen" (like turning the home into an office) truly does help deal with stress.
What's interesting, however, is the contention that shedding material goods is a privilege--further, that minimalism is a kind of techno-privilege. Arielle Bernstein, writing for The Atlantic about her grandparents, who were Jewish refugees after WWII, puts it well:
"I'm not alone in appreciating the lightness and freedom of a minimalist lifestyle... Of course, in order to feel comfortable throwing out all your old socks and handbags, you have to feel pretty confident that you can easily get new ones. Embracing a minimalist lifestyle is an act of trust. For a refugee, that trust has not yet been earned. The idea that going through items cheerfully evaluating whether or not objects inspire happiness is fraught for a family like mine, for whom cherished items have historically been taken away. For my grandparents, the question wasn't whether an item sparked joy, but whether it was necessary for their survival."
What Bernstein is touching on is essentially the bedrock of the system--that it's easy to have nothing when everything is within reach. It's easy to throw everything away when it's just as easy to get it back. Does this mean that "techno-ascetics," should stop what they're doing? Realize that minimalism is more than just a trend and go back to owning tons of stuff?
Technology as the Great Equalizer
First, I think it's important to realize that technology that simplifies our lives does not necessarily contribute to minimalism. After all, minimalism in its infancy simply asked us to reimagine something familiar without the familiarity--it didn't ask us to get rid of everything in our lives to better optimize our time. That distinction is important to note. These people who are blogging about "minimalism" are contributing to an ascetic fad, and are not truly minimal based solely on the fact that they generally have an abundance of something contributing to their safety net.
What should also be recognized, however, is that 'technology' isn't the offending culprit here, nor is 'minimalism'. Innovations that allow a human being to live without excess should be celebrated and disseminated to all--it's simply an economic irony that we have to spend maximally to be able to live minimally. Perhaps it's as The Atlantic calls it, and maybe Silicon Valley's 'sunny outlook on technology and opportunity ignores systematic inequalities'.
Still, Silicon Valley doesn't represent "technology" itself. Technology itself is a great equalizer. Like the Internet, the ability of the technology is to provide unlimited access to the world's store of information--and that ability exists. The blockchain promises to decentralize and equalize just as much, if not more. Eventually, technology will affect biology with genetics--with gene-targeting cancer therapies, many diseases we call life-threatening today will be eradicated to the benefit of everyone, much like the polio virus.
The point is this: systemic inequalities do exist, and "minimalism" as a fad subtly contributes to them. However, the fight against systemic inequality is real as well, and technology, depending on how it's used, can greatly contribute to that fight as well.