Meditations: Is stuff just stuff?

One of the most significant works of classical Mongolian literature is a book that describes the life and conquests of Genghis Khan, called The Secret History of the Mongols. (Yeah, a Westerner clearly chose that name.) Incidentally, it is one of the only works of classical Mongolian literature. Not much written by the conquering Mongols survives, and I’m not 100% sure of the reasons for that yet.

In any case, I’m reading The Secret History, and it’s an interesting work. It reminds me, actually, of the Celtic mythology I had to read for my Oxford tute, and I might expand on that more later, but the point of this post is to talk about a specific incident in the life of Genghis Khan. Though the details are fuzzy, the story basically goes down like this:

Genghis Khan, shortly after getting married, went to an ally of his father and presented him with a black sable coat. In return, Ong Khan (the ally), pledged to Genghis that he would unite the fractured Mongol people in return for the coat. Later, Genghis came to Ong Khan and asked for help destroying some pesky enemies who stole his wife.  Ong Khan’s response was centered around the coat; he recalled the gift, and recited a poem that ended with the pledge, 
“I shall now fulfill that promise

In return for the sable coat

I will destroy all the Mergids

And rescue Borte-ujun

In return for the sable coat

We shall crush all the Mergids

And bring back your wife, Borte.”

Note: The punctuation is pretty ambiguous/nonsensical in the version I have, so I just left it all out. Read it as you will.

The scene confused me a bit, because as much as I would be willing to do a lot for a sable coat, this khan did seem to be resting an awful lot on that coat. But the key seems to be in the word “promise.” The coat was not just a coat, it was a promise. It was a symbol of an alliance, and a gift that really meant something. This made me think a bit about what property can mean. We tend to view things as just things, and our culture both reveres stuff and looks down on reverence for stuff. Conspicuous consumption is very much alive, but discussion of money and flashiness are considered gauche.

A fur coat is great, and people work themselves half to death in order to make enough money to buy a fur coat (whether or not they actually buy one), but one isn’t supposed to revere the fur coat. And if the fur coat gets paint thrown on it, the proper response is not to throw a fit—after all, it’s just a coat, right?

But in this story of Genghis and Ong, the fur coat was more than just a coat. That piece of property symbolized a pledge. And I think that our culture, though it is materialistic in its relentless pursuit of stuff, has perhaps forgotten how an item can be more than just an item. We crave things to have them, but we convince ourselves that we want to use them. You’re not supposed to admit that maybe you just want that iPad to have it, and that you’ll probably get tired of it in about four days anyway. You’re supposed to want it because it’s useful, not because you want to show others that you worked hard for your money, and you can spend it on something frivolous and sort of fun. One traditional use of money was just to show power, and in a world with an increasingly ambiguous power structure, maybe this is a worthwhile use. (A six-thousand dollar suit might not look better than a $600 one, but it does look more powerful. And that makes it worth it, right, Gob?)

That’s probably a bad example, but here’s another: jewelry. The symbolic nature of wedding rings and engagement rings is obvious—we wear them as a symbol of our commitment, dedication, etc., etc. No one blinks an eye when, in a movie, an angry fiancée/wife throws her ring to the ground. She’s not discarding the material aspect of the ring, she’s discarding the symbolic aspect. But how about a less popular jewelry symbol, the post-cheating jewelry? Kobe Bryant bought his wife a four-million-dollar ring after his cheating was discovered, and she stayed with him. Though people weren’t necessarily surprised, there was commentary on such a blatantly mercenary attitude. She stayed with a cheater for just a piece of jewelry? But the thing is, it wasn’t necessarily just a piece of jewelry. Of course, I can’t comment specifically on that case, but when a cheating husband buys his wife a diamond necklace, he is (perhaps subconsciously) making a pledge to her, and showing that he loves her, thousands or millions of dollars worth. He’s using a piece of property as a symbol of his dedication. This isn’t so different from an engagement ring, or even parents putting a down payment on a house for their newlywed child. (I’m aware of the crucial difference that one is an apology for wrongdoing and the others are spontaneous pledges, but that’s not the issue here.)

Somehow, it seems our culture has, while seeking money and things more relentlessly than ever, managed to forget one of the things makes stuff worth having: What it symbolizes. We’re more materialistic for material’s sake, but less willing to attribute meaning to the material. But that’s just my perspective, I guess. 

So think about it: How has property and its value changed over centuries? Do we really seek property more, but value it less? What are some examples of property in our society that do have a symbolic value? Is this mercenary, after all, and should we mean our promises without needing to materially commit to them? And if it’s true that we value stuff for its own sake, not for its sake as a symbol, does that make us more or less materialistic? Is it that simple?

Just so you know, I will unite your 
fractured people in exchange for this coat.