Justifications

It’s easy for me to justify buying gear in hindsight: I just look at the things I did with it and it’s obvious why buying it was a good idea. Conversely, if it just sits there and I don’t use it because, for instance, the lens in question produces poor image quality, or it’s a computer that’s crashing randomly and I can’t risk my work, or a camera that’s so impractical to use that I feel PTSD at the very idea of taking it with me, it’s obvious that buying it was a mistake.

The problem, however, is in justifying equipment purchases proactively. I usually tend to think that my current equipment is fine. If it can’t do something, I can just find my way around it. Autofocus on the camera is slow, so I’ll just take pictures of static subjects. The lens is poor wide open, so I’ll just use it stopped down. I don’t have wide apertures so I’ll use a tripod. Basically, adapt in order to make due with what I have. Also, it’s hard to anticipate if something will be useful in advance, and so it’s especially hard for me to justify buying something very expensive that’s of merely hypothetical usefulness.

At some point, I had to stop my thrifty habits and come to an understanding: had I treated another person the way I treated my photography, it would have been extreme abuse and neglect. Need new shoes? Make due with the old ones, the holes aren’t that big yet. Need a new shirt? The old one is still fine. Need winter clothes? Just walk more quickly, you’ll get warm. Need food? No you don’t, you ate yesterday. Need pen and paper? Why do you need those, you don’t know how to write and you never wrote anything before, so you obviously don’t need it now.

Also, a reason why I didn’t want to buy new gear was because I needed a telephoto lens, and I knew it had to be a good one, and I also needed a camera with fast and smart autofocus to go with it, because my old camera couldn’t track insects. So, it wasn’t just a lens; it was a top tier telephoto lens and a top tier camera, all at once. It’s almost car money. So, after months of considering, I decided to buy both, and use it as an experiment that will determine the value of my purchasing justifications for future reference. If the camera and lens turn out to be rarely used, it will mean I just wasted money and my old thinking was good.

But the opposite happened – both camera and lens turned out to be exceedingly useful, and they allowed me to create lots of pictures I would never have made otherwise. Before, I had like three bees in flight in 20 years of photography. Now, I took five by noon. It was a serious, tangible improvement. Also, I could take pictures of landscape details that were out of reach before, also producing new things that used to be beyond my technical capabilities. So, what else do I want to do that’s presently beyond my equipment?

I realised that we go for walks in the evening and we don’t bring cameras along because we don’t have low light capability, or we try and fail with smartphones. So, I got lenses that are great for what we wanted to do, and again, we ended up with loads of photos that would have never been taken before, simply because we lacked the means.

So, now, in hindsight, it’s easy to say that I need a certain lens. I can show the results that would have never existed without it. I can justify a camera in similar ways. But where does one draw the line from this, because it’s easy to justify anything by saying it might be useful. A second car might be useful. A second house might be useful. Sure. But you need to see the downsides. A second car is a serious financial drain. It also introduces additional maintenance overhead, and wastes both money, time and energy. But what if my car suddenly breaks down and I am left stranded? Well, that’s a legitimate concern, but let’s see how it can be addressed. For instance, you can have an emergency fund deep enough to buy a cheap used car in an emergency. It can also be designed to fit all kinds of other emergencies, because having potential energy in form of money is better than betting on what kind of a dark horse might appear and break your plans. So, have an emergency fund, and have most of it in form of gold coins, because inflation is a thing, and also because fiat currency going to shit is a thing, and that’s one of the possible legitimate emergencies – currency collapse and/or hyperinflation.

So, that’s one way of doing it – have money reserves you can use to solve unpredictable failures and disasters. However, when it’s about things that actually help you do work and be creative, that method is useless, and you need to not just be ready to purchase equipment in case of need; you need to have equipment ready in case you want to use it.

It’s a balance between treating yourself and your work with neglect and contempt, and wasting money on stupid toys you got tricked into buying by watching ads that pretend to be reviews. There needs to be a reasonable balance, but where that exact line sits is a matter that needs to be decided by allowing yourself to occasionally fail and go overboard.

Made with the lens I thought I didn’t need.

Capability

I was thinking about why I have no problem giving up hardware and technologies, surrendering them to the sands of time without sentimentality. I had all kinds of computers before and I don’t care for them one bit. The same goes for cameras, lenses, film processes and emulsions. But they helped me make my favourite work. Why is it that I can give them up so easily?

I did give it some thought, and I came up with a very simple answer. I care for capability. If new technology can give me the same or better capability, I’m fine. Let’s take 35mm photography for example. Initially I shot negative film, then mostly slides, then Canon 5d digital, then Sony A7II digital, and currently Sony A7RV and A7CR digital. As you can see, what I’m preserving is the 35mm format. That’s the capability. I also want colours, dynamic range and resolution. That part is either staying the same or improving over generations of hardware. Every following generation of technology includes and exceeds the capability of the previous ones.

The colours of now.

Yes, film looked great when it was in its prime. Digital looks at least as good, if not better. You just need to know what you’re doing. Digital has greater resolution, less noise, and greater dynamic range, especially in the shadows. One of the greatest advantages of digital is in the deep tones with low light, and that’s something I do a lot.

So, the reason why I let go of film without hesitation when digital became good enough is because digital included and exceeded the capabilities of film to do what I wanted it to do. There’s no nostalgia because I don’t feel I lost capability. Whenever I felt I missed the aesthetics of a certain lens I used to own, I just bought it cheaply on ebay; I can mount it on the new camera via adapter and get the same look. There are, however, digital cameras and lenses I used to own, that produced great image quality, but I don’t feel the need to own them now; the Olympus four thirds system, for instance, or Sony R1. Why? Because I own parallel gear from Sony that makes the image with the same look. Zuiko Digital 14-54mm f/2.8-3.5, for instance, makes images that look almost identical to what my Sony FE 24-105mm f/4 G makes. The modern Sony sensors produce magnificent colours. Getting older gear that would produce an inferior version of the same image style would merely waste money and increase clutter.

You can’t replace people. They are actually unique, and if someone was lost to you nostalgia is justified. Also, if technological capability was lost forever and you can’t get it again with modern gear, the feeling of loss and nostalgia are justified. But with computers and cameras? I certainly don’t miss computers being big, loud, slow and shit. I don’t miss the 1024×768 resolution, and I don’t miss having to burn CDs for video because hard drives were small. I don’t miss connecting to the BBS with a 14400 modem. I’m glad stuff got better. I don’t miss the car in which I had to hand-crank the windows down and manually lock all four doors, and I certainly don’t miss it having 54hp. Did I do important things with it? Yes. Was I very glad I had it at the time? Yes. But all my cars since have been better. I never lost capability. Even the fuel consumption, which was the strong side of my first car – 6.5 litres of diesel per 100 km – is exceeded by my current car; 6.2l of diesel per 100km. The new car, however, actually has an engine, and it has dual zone climate control, satnav, electric windows and door locks and so on. It’s also much safer. Literally zero capability was lost, therefore zero nostalgia. But if technology degraded and I could no longer get the capability I once had, that would be a shame and I would feel that.

Toxic waste

Meta must tighten controls on children’s accounts and pay $567 million into a fund to remedy its role in a youth mental health crisis, a New Mexico judge ordered Thursday, in a ruling that dealt the social media giant another hefty penalty and compared it to polluting factories. (CNN)

A New Mexico judge has declared Meta a “public nuisance,” comparing the social media giant to a polluting factory. The ruling orders the company to establish an abatement fund and overhaul key features of its platforms over alleged harm to children. (RT)

It’s a case of “too little, too late”, considering the condition of the generations raised on tablets, smartphones and social media, I’d say. It’s also a case of “I told you so”, since I kept saying from the beginning that social media is the spiritual equivalent of toxic waste that is by design reducing people to their basest level, but nobody listens to me so yeah. Now they have the irreversible outcomes, and this verdict isn’t going to change anything.

But I don’t think it’s just social media; it’s broader than that. Any situation where people are constantly exposed to feedback from large groups of people will result in a very reductionist monoculture of thoughts and emotions. In essence, this reduces society to a collective idiot, because stupid consensus reigns supreme, and every truly smart idea will contradict that, and such will be violently attacked and ridiculed. In essence, this polices thought until everybody is obedient, retarded and vaccinated.

Also, this form of mental coherence on a very low baseline, essentially the consensus of the IQ 85-115 crowd, the ±1 standard deviations around the median, the monoculture of the Gaussian mean, is something that creates all the fanatical hatred of all dissenting thought, and extreme intolerance of “non-approved” ideas, and it’s not like that phenomenon is new in society, but social media brought it to a whole new level of bad.

So, it’s not that only Facebook, or only the social media, or the smartphones that enable permanent connectivity to the network, are the problem. I think it merely exposes pathology within human social structures, that was always there, but this escalated it to the level of caricature.

Getting shit done

I was writing something in the comment section that deserves to be an article, with some additions:

I definitely subscribe more to the “clean” line of thinking – don’t clutter the place with extraneous crap, avoid things that don’t actually improve your quality of life, and if something doesn’t do anything good for you, it probably just drags you down. I had to move too many times, and that’s a good way to learn that stuff that normally doesn’t get in the way but isn’t really useful either still needs to be packed and moved, and as such is a drag. However, there’s a serious difference between that, and trying to get rid of almost everything. Sure, you can say you don’t need winter clothing in the summer, but when the winter comes you’re going to remember what you needed that heavy jacket/coat for. When I’m not doing heavy lifting with my computer, I think that Macbook Air is all I need, but then I get to import lots of pictures and a desktop machine with good cooling shows what I bought it for. One can say things don’t make you happy. Sure, my car doesn’t make me happy, but not having one would sure make me miserable. You don’t get to be happy from things; however, believing that things are here to make you happy is stupid nonsense. Things are here to prevent hardship and misery. They are here to help you do something useful. If they serve some additional purpose, such as look good while being functional, the better. Having a sharp knife never made me happy. Having a dull knife, or not having an extra knife while they were all in the dishwasher sure annoyed me. But the difference between a perfectly functional knife, and some fancy Japanese $500 knife doesn’t mean shit to me. I buy them cheaply in the local mall, and I have good sharpening stones to maintain them. As long as it’s sharp and good, I don’t care about it being fancy. Same with the dishes – they are all the cheapest, locally available brand, and if we break something, it’s easily replaced. No fancy handmade porcelain and shit. We buy it either in Ikea or the local store. Cheap, simple, functional. That’s how I perceive minimalism – don’t waste money and mental energy on stuff that doesn’t matter, because it’s impossible to get it to be better with any kind of investment once you get past the basics. Essentially, get fancy coffee, serve it in the cheapest generic cups. Fancy coffee can improve things, fancy cups can’t, because the basic cups are already really good. Also, there’s minimalism in reducing the amount of overhead introduced by unnecessary fancification of things. Get stuff that you can easily service and replace. Get as much stuff from the same place as possible, because it simplifies delivery, maintenance and replacement. I’ll get furniture from Ikea, for instance, not because I’m much of a fan, but because it makes it simple enough and it’s good enough and once I’m done with it I can do something more important. Also, buying stuff from Apple simplifies things a lot – it reduces the amount of choices that don’t actually contribute to anything, the stuff is well made, lasts long and so on. So, minimalism in a sense of reducing the amount of shit you have to deal with it is something I definitely subscribe to. That doesn’t necessarily mean less things, but it means dealing with unimportant aspects of things less. For instance, trying to get things to be fancy, beyond the layer of functionality, is an incredible waste of energy, money and time. For instance, I don’t have fancy shoes, I have generic Adidas sneakers that are comfortable and good, and I know the exact model and size so I order replacements online once I wear them down. Same with clothes – I get good generic stuff that’s easy to find and replace. Basically, I like the Bauhaus concept of industrial design, form following function, and mass production reducing cost. Sure, I like fancy here and there, but for the most part, I prefer to have the most generic mid-range version of a thing, because that one is most likely to be good, easy to find, cheap to buy and replace, and so on.

I was thinking about this more, and concluded that there are some exceptions to my general rule of just getting shit done and not wasting money and effort on pointless fancification. Those exceptions come into play when something fancy actually means something to me, or I have it to create an impression that serves some useful purpose, and creating a wrong impression would cause more problems than it would solve.

The most important exceptions are cars and watches. In both cases, I will go beyond the minimum of function, and rather treat their symbolism of status as an important aspect of function.

You see, it doesn’t matter whether I care about those things or not. Other people care about them and notice them subconsciously, and I need to do the necessary minimum to “pass” if I want to aviod hassle that might require inordinate amounts of mental focus and energy to break through. I want to create an impression of someone you have to take seriously, but not someone who intentionally provokes envy and spite with ostentatious behaviour. I also don’t want to waste money on status symbols, at least not beyond the point where it suffices to accomplish the intended purpose. It’s a delicate dance. Status symbols have a nasty tendency of backfiring more often than not, because fake people tend to overdo it. You can’t fake class, and you can’t fake the feeling you have when you know you have money. But there are things that a person with money and class could reasonably be expected to do if they wish to avoid ostentatious displays; and then there are things such a person would not do. For instance, wearing a tacky gold-plated supermarket-brand watch is one of those things. But a very rich and classy person could wear an 1980s Casio. Also, if people know or suspect you are tight with money, ostentatious displays will instantly backfire. There are very, very few instances where showing that you have money will benefit you. It’s actually the opposite from what poor people, who want to pretend to be wealthy, think. More often than not, behaving frugally, rationally and “low key” will indicate money and class. Ostentatious behaviour, to me, indicates serious money issues. That can mean not having money, or being stuck somewhere in your past where you didn’t have money, and trying to overcompensate. In any case, it isn’t a good look.

So, my paradigm of prioritising function and getting shit done sometimes means matching some social expectations closely enough to avoid problems. It also includes some level of indulgence. If combining reasonable indulgence with functionality manages to make it easier for me to accomplish my goals, the better. The curve that connects the dots might in fact meet the requirements of minimalism, but the way I see it, minimalism can be an emergent property of trying to get shit done with the least amount of friction and issues, and not necessarily something that has anything to do with striving to have less things.

Minimalistic choices

Internet is full of videos and articles on the theme of “if you had to take one camera and one lens and use it for the next ten years, what would it be”. Or it’s “if you had to have only one computer, watch, pocket knife, car, pen…, what would it be”.

It always implies some kind of a “less is more” situation – basically, when you’re forced to use limited tools, you compensate with creativity and the results tend to be better than if you subscribe to “more is better” paradigm. Sure, sometimes. However, for the most part that’s all nonsense.

When you actually have a limiting situation, it’s not a choice between three different macbooks, a desktop computer and a gaming Windows laptop, and deciding to keep just one. It’s a situation where you have the cheapest possible computer that has minimal functionality for your daily tasks, and when you have to do something harder, it all starts to crumble under your fingers. Ask me how I know.

I had minimalist setups because I was poor, not because I subscribed to some stupid post-modernist minimalist paradigm where you own nothing and are happy. I owned nothing because it was an actual situation, and not some bullshit for YouTubers. Extreme poverty introduces its own kind of minimalism, and trust me, it doesn’t make you happy. It doesn’t reduce mental clutter – on the contrary.

Having a Macbook Pro that connects to Apple Studio Display with a single cable, with clean wireless mouse and keyboard setups, isn’t a realistic minimalist situation. Not having a desk and instead putting the cheap bulky computer you got used on the flimsy kitchen desk you found in the apartment you’re renting cheaply, that’s realistic minimalism. Working with whatever camera and lens you could get for the least possible amount of money because you couldn’t afford anything better, that’s realistic minimalism. It’s not a choice between ten excellent lenses and artificially limiting yourself to one. It’s using the one you found for 25 EUR on ebay because you had 25 EUR plus shipping, that’s realistic minimalism.

Minimalism isn’t a choice of one watch; minimalism is when you only have one watch, and it’s cheap because cheap is all you could afford. And by cheap I mean 50 EUR. Any by 50 EUR I mean you had to save for several months to be able to afford a 50 EUR watch, and you think it’s unjustifiable luxury. Ask me how I know.

When you’re poor, minimalism means you can’t replace your jeans, which have holes on them, because you had to replace your shoes first, because they too have holes on them. True minimalism isn’t a clean desk setup because you are decluttering. It’s an empty flimsy desk with nothing on it because that’s what you have.

When I see how people justify their minimalist setups, I can’t believe the nonsense I’m hearing. Like, they are using single-task devices such as typewriters or dedicated computers with no networking and only minimal software, so that they aren’t interrupted by all sorts of notifications and social media while they write. Excuse me, but that’s a matter that requires mental training, and not different equipment choices. When I open a word processor and write something, I can have literally dozens of things open in the background and I don’t notice any of them. I actually don’t hear what my wife is saying to me in person, and I have to ask her to repeat it later, because when I’m concentrating on writing, nothing else exists. It goes to such extremes that I can freeze behind the computer and get sick later because it was cold and I didn’t register it, because what I was doing took literally 100% concentration, to the point that I don’t register pain, hunger, hot, cold, noise, earthquake or aerial bombardment when I’m working. I don’t care about minimalism because when I’m working, I don’t perceive anything on my desk, or on my computer besides the program I’m using for the work I’m doing. I don’t need to have a clean desk with the smallest possible number of items on it, because otherwise my mind would be cluttered. On the contrary – my mind works like a switch, because that’s how I trained myself. When I’m doing something, nothing else exists; not because it’s not there, but because selective concentration is not a matter of having less things. It’s about focusing on just one thing, despite being surrounded by the entire world of things.

There’s a word in Croatian, “izdrkavanje”, which would literally translate as a wank job, but which means performative actions, things you do so that the audience would perceive how awesome you are. That’s how I perceive the performative minimalism. Its purpose is convincing other people that you have an organized mind because you have a clean desk from Ikea, with just a laptop, monitor, a wireless keyboard and a wireless mouse on it, with a possible addition of fake grass in a pot from Ikea. People who have such setups usually have nothing better to do than waste time on such performative minimalism, where an actually focused person would have all sorts of stuff lying around, while they are focused on just that one thing they are doing, and they don’t have time and energy to waste on performative actions intended for impressing anyone.

They usually say that minimalism reduces the overhead of choice – for instance, you don’t have to think about which lens you’re going to use because you only have one. Oh, the agony of choice; you need to pick one for that day. How horrible. If choice is hard, I just take what’s already on the camera, because if it mattered, the choice would be simple. What pencil or pen to choose? The one that’s closest to the paper, usually. If it actually matters, then I go to the pencil cup and pick a more adequate one.

I’m not advocating for chaos and lack of organization and tidiness. I’m saying that a minimalist setup is performative nonsense that takes more time and energy to maintain than a reasonably cluttered setup, and shows that your energy goes into showing other people how minimalist, tidy and clean you are, rather than getting shit done as efficiently as possible.