- Joined
- Apr 8, 2018
- Messages
- 354
In the pre-internet world, a knife was a tool that you typically carried in your pocket. You pulled it out only when you needed to use it. You didn’t worry so much about scratching it, or damaging it. You didn’t much talk about it with others, or ask strangers which knife you should buy. And you didn’t spend a day’s or even a week’s salary on it. We didn’t have knife “communities.”
Fast forward to today, and all that has changed. Yes, there have been some innovations that have improved on the designs of knives, and there are more specialized and sophisticated knives available. But let’s not fool ourselves. They’re still tools. And rather simple ones. But now, we hoard them, brag to strangers about our hoards, solicit strangers as to which to add next. We stress over scuffs and scratches. We find details that are otherwise unimportant to the basic function of the tool, and turn it into something obsession worthy. And we justify spending, at least proportionately, large sums of money for what is still a relatively simple tool. We refer to ourselves as a “community” and in some cases, spend more time comparing knives and “keeping up with the Jones” than we do actually cutting or slicing.
Take note that throughout these observations, I used “we.” I’m certainly not above any of this, and am “guilty” of much of it. I’m simply being honest about where we’ve been and where we are. In a way, it’s a fairly strange transition. To be fair, this same transition has happened with many, many items. The internet has changed us in some absolutely positive ways, but it’s also changed us in some very strange ways as well.
I suppose that’s the end of my Sunday morning philosophizing.
Fast forward to today, and all that has changed. Yes, there have been some innovations that have improved on the designs of knives, and there are more specialized and sophisticated knives available. But let’s not fool ourselves. They’re still tools. And rather simple ones. But now, we hoard them, brag to strangers about our hoards, solicit strangers as to which to add next. We stress over scuffs and scratches. We find details that are otherwise unimportant to the basic function of the tool, and turn it into something obsession worthy. And we justify spending, at least proportionately, large sums of money for what is still a relatively simple tool. We refer to ourselves as a “community” and in some cases, spend more time comparing knives and “keeping up with the Jones” than we do actually cutting or slicing.
Take note that throughout these observations, I used “we.” I’m certainly not above any of this, and am “guilty” of much of it. I’m simply being honest about where we’ve been and where we are. In a way, it’s a fairly strange transition. To be fair, this same transition has happened with many, many items. The internet has changed us in some absolutely positive ways, but it’s also changed us in some very strange ways as well.
I suppose that’s the end of my Sunday morning philosophizing.