Today's limitless consumer culture is not only an economic phenomenon but also a profound psychological cycle. We take its name from the famous 18th-century French philosopher and revolutionary Denis Diderot: the "Diderot Effect."
The Diderot Effect is simply the phenomenon where a new purchase makes existing items seem "incompatible," prompting a desire for further purchases. This is when a person enters a spiral of consumption driven by a desire for wholeness and fulfillment. So, what does the famous red dressing gown have to do with this concept? The answer lies in Diderot's essay "Regrets for My Old Dressing Gown," in which he recounts his own observations and regrets.
The Philosopher's Magnificent Trap
Despite living in poverty for many years, Diderot became one of the founders of the Encyclopédie, one of the first comprehensive encyclopedias of the modern era. His fortunes changed in 1765. Russian Empress Catherine the Great bought the philosopher's library for a high price, rescuing him from financial hardship. With the money he earned, Diderot bought himself a sumptuous, expensive red dressing gown, a gift he had always dreamed of. However, when this magnificent garment arrived home, it set off an unexpected chain reaction: The red dressing gown contrasted so starkly with the modest, worn-out furnishings in the house that it began to bother the philosopher. He now needed a house "like" the dressing gown.
Desiring to create a harmonious ambiance, Diderot began repurposing his old possessions. Soon, he had replaced nearly all the furnishings in the house, achieving the "wholeness" he desired, only to find himself once again mired in debt.
Diderot summarized this consumerism with these memorable words:
"I was the absolute master of my old dressing gown, but I became the slave of my new one."
The Spiral of Consumption and the Construction of Identity
In 1988, Canadian anthropologist Grant McCracken coined the term "Diderot Effect" to describe this "desire for wholeness" and how it guides our purchasing decisions. This effect suggests that acquiring new possessions (car, phone, furniture, clothes) often creates a consumption spiral that compels us to acquire more new things. The result is that we buy things we never actually need to be happy or fulfilled, simply to complete the newly created identity set.
This psychology, observed years ago by Diderot, is one of the cornerstones of modern marketing today.
• Store Layout: From furniture giants (e.g., Ikea) to boutique stores, items are displayed not randomly but in complementary "sets." The customer is presented with a new lifestyle consisting not just of a sofa, but of a matching coffee table, rug, and lamp.
• Technology: Buying a new smartphone also necessitates the acquisition of "ecosystem" products such as compatible headphones, a smartwatch, and perhaps a tablet.
Unsatisfied Desires and Diderot's Lessons
Diderot's coveted new red dressing gown failed to bring him the emotional comfort and freedom his old one did. Instead of attaining the new lifestyle he desired, he was plunged into utter chaos by his consumer debts.
The lines in the philosopher's article serve as a lesson for us to question ourselves today: Do we believe that our possessions elevate us, or are we enslaved by them?
"Who knows what will happen in time? What can be expected of a man who has forgotten his wife and daughter, who has fallen into debt, who has ceased to be a husband and father—instead of hiding a few pennies in a safe place... O Lord! ... You destroy them and return Denis to his poverty. And I, for my part, will cry out to the heavens: O Lord! I surrender to the prayers of the holy prophet and to Your will. I leave everything to You. Take everything back, everything except Vernet!..."
Diderot realized that even what he considered most precious (except for the Vernet painting) was actually a material burden and a risk of loss. While the true purpose of consumption promises happiness and fulfillment, the Diderot Effect shows us that this quest has no end and is an endless cycle that drives us to desire more.
Ultimately, true freedom lies in becoming "master of your old dressing gown"—in other words, resisting the lifestyle that a new possession will dictate to you.
