We are witnessing an evolutionary change in humanity’s approach to possessions, collections, and memorabilia. What for millennia drove us to acquire and possess no longer motivates young people who have never known a non-digital world. Human beings were once collectors, but are gradually abandoning that and becoming, instead, connectors.
For millennia, humans lived with an assumption of scarcity and thus collected anything deemed scarce. First manifested in the hoarding of saved food or fuel or livestock, this human urge expanded to include the desire to possess more and more of anything of value. Physical collections and the collecting of art, cars, orchids, stamps, baseball cards, photos, antiques, family memorabilia—pretty well anything—generated prestige, pleasure, and pride among individuals and groups. Collecting became something humans aspired to and spent time enjoying.
In many ways, this instinct no longer governs the youngest among us: they have an assumption of availability rather than an assumption of scarcity. This trend is demonstrated daily in ways large and small. Parents save news clippings, schoolwork, videos and photos (the latter, in a concession to modernity, perhaps saved on the hard drive of their computer). Their children do not. Many, if not most, parents still assume that these items are finite and scarce; children assume that they are eternally available on digital platforms. What humans considered the intrinsic value of ownership and intimacy with collected possessions does not register as strongly with young people. To them, the notion of “owning” or “collecting” things is somewhat quaint and pointless. What they want or seek will always be there, on a website, app, or other medium, so why “keep” it?
Furthermore, to the young, living under the assumption of scarcity rather than availability represents a needless burden. Such an assumption limits options and monopolizes time, space, and other resources that might be spent sampling more and varied interests. A collection of music on CDs or a shelf of carefully organized scrapbooks and photo albums falls squarely into this category.
The difference of approaches leads to generational misunderstandings and failure to appreciate one another’s perspectives. Older generations were raised to keep certain things; they thus consider younger generations’ “failure” to demonstrate enough interest in these things impatience or misplaced dedication to fads and impermanence. The young believe their approach represents faith in the notion of eternal presence, not items hoarded for momentary consultation. They don’t think of their method as the embrace of impermanence. They move on from one digital collection to another, but know that the “old” item is always just a click away, not mothballed in a closet or attic.
Which approach is right? As in all evolutionary processes, that question is irrelevant. It’s happening, and it’s happening everywhere and to everyone. While the young have been the vectors of this evolution in the notions of scarcity and possession, the speed of this change is felt by all. A means of judging the extent and impact of this fundamental human shift is simple: consider the importance of wi-fi and smartphones to the middle class anywhere in the world. They have become indispensable commodities for every generation anywhere humans can afford them. People in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and beyond—not just teenagers and younger adults– now rely on smartphones and the availability of wi-fi as essential components of their lives. Yet smartphones and wi-fi are but two of the vehicles propelling our evolution from collectors to connectors. There are more vehicles to come. And they will not need to be possessed, kept, saved, owned, or collected. All anyone will need to do is connect.