Each of us is a consumer.
Whether we’re evaluating available broadband subscriptions on a comparison website or squinting at slightly discoloured tomatoes sold on the side of the road, we’re asking the same question: “is it worth the money?“
Several factors play into this, and the way we balance those is very personal. Convenience, quality, environmental impact, and intended use/function are some of the big ones.
For me, a key way of answering the question “is it worth the money?” is to break down the cost into smaller units and to ask whether my experience of one of those units is worth the unit cost.
If I’m buying a laptop: what will the cost per day be, based on its expected lifetime?
If I’m going swimming somewhere that requires payment of a one-off entrance fee: what will the cost per length be?
If I’m buying a bicycle: what will the cost per kilometre be?
If I’m buying a shirt: what will the cost per wear be?
This doesn’t apply to all purchases, but it’s useful for larger purchases where the options sit on a cost/quality spectrum. It often leads one to a) buy fewer, higher quality items, b) ensure that items are well used and maintained, and c) consciously enjoy the experience that results from a well-made purchase.
As examples:
If laptop x is £500, okay to use, and the expected lifetime is two years, that adds up to middling satisfaction for a cost of £0.68 per day. If laptop y is £1,000, amazing to use, and the expected lifetime is four years, then I can expect high satisfaction for the same cost of £0.68 per day. Buying laptop y is a no-brainer. Added bonuses include: not having to spend time looking for another laptop after just two years, and avoiding the environmental impact associated with producing, shipping, and packaging a second laptop.
If a bicycle is £1,000 and I expect to cycle 20,000 kilometres on it and spend £300 on maintenance in the next five years, then this works out to £0.065 per kilometre. I can then consider: if I go out for a 120 kilometre cycle ride, then the bicycle-related cost would equal £7.80. Worth it, for the views, the fitness, the probability of sharing a memorable experience with a friend? Absolutely.
Perhaps unit costs don’t fact into your purchasing decisions, and my reflections above read as a blur of weirdness. Well, that’s alright.
I hope that you nonetheless feel stimulated to be conscious about what you purchase, whether or not that involves considering unit cost.
Consumerism pushes us to buy now, think later. I hope you’re on board with rejecting that, in favour of weighing up what’s important to you before parting with your cash in exchange for a good or service.
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Caveat: the reflections above make a huge assumption about one’s ability to choose between different goods or services. Inherent in the choice is an assumption about financial means (being able to afford to make the purchase, and to consider more expensive options) and availability of choice (more than one option available).