To Survive the Shitthropocene, You Must Commit to Quality
In an era that prizes cheap, investing in quality work is the surest way to thrive.
In a society built on the production and proliferation of forgettable mediocrities ranging from clothing to social media posts, powerpoint presentations, and toys, investing in quality is a radical act. When the expectation is mediocre work, we obsess over tactics, with speed and throughput replacing quality as the key metrics. What scares me about AI is that it’s already able to produce a simulacrum of decent work instantly and at almost no cost.
The machines coming for the mediocre are a threat to how we work today, but they also provide us with an opportunity. In the short run, the people and companies that thrive in this context will be those that own and best harness new technologies. Over the slightly longer term, and as the amount of machine made slop overwhelms our senses, people will seek out original, quality work that breaks through.
The paradox is that what makes quality work so hard to produce is what gives meaning to its producers and consumers: the struggle, time, and commitment required to strive for excellence. It may not look that way now, but in the coming era, the people and companies that embrace this pursuit will be the ones that thrive.
To shift production towards quality, the first step is recognizing that we don’t need to live in a society awash with cheap shit. That’s the underlying message of Shitthopocene, a film Patagonia just released about our addiction to cheap clothing. It’s 45 minutes and worth a watch. The tone is knowing, witty, and irreverent. Cavemen and a synchronized group of women fresh from a soiree at Versailles dance to hip hop beats. The narrator swears, “outtakes” are included, and the hero’s journey is about fishing waders that (used to) leak. Instead of righteous indignation, Patagonia tries to shake us to our senses by confronting us with the absurdity and environmental implications of our addiction to cheap clothing, closing with a call for us to demand better.
Having realizes that we live in the Shitthropocene, the next step is figuring out how to circumnavigate the tides of cheap shit. I think that the key is intentionality. In the case of Patagonia, this intentionality is manifest through an obsession with quality products, craftsmanship, and materials.
We don’t all work at a company like Patagonia, but each of us can be more intentional in our work, relationships, purchases, and pastimes. For me, daily intentionality without a longer term objective can feel rudderless–there are so many areas where I feel inundated that it’s hard to know where to focus. To overcome this, I’ve started to set five to ten year goals that require intentional commitment in a few key areas. Annual goals are great, but it’s too short of a timeframe to grow in the ways that will be crucial for fighting against the Shittthopocene.
I've been thinking about this recently, and the approach that seems to make sense to me is consumption as an addiction. Where the addiction, the substance abuse in this case cheap-shit be it clothing, gadgets, or anything else is behaviour to compensate for our lack of connection and/or lack or meaning.
How do we (can we?) create an economic system & society where we don't feel the need to "buy things we don't need with money we don't have to impress people we don't like.” (Chuck Palahniuk/Fight Club).