Key Takeaways
This article explores why we use the word “love” to describe inanimate objects, specifically through the lens of design. It examines the psychological concepts of Self-Expansion Theory and the Endowment Effect. We look at how designers like George Nakashima and George Nelson created pieces that invite human connection. Finally, it analyzes the linguistic shift where objects become extensions of our own identities.
- Psychological Root: We use “love” because we incorporate objects into our self-concept via Self-Expansion Theory.
- The Endowment Effect: Ownership changes our brain’s valuation of an object, making it feel like a part of us.
- Design Humanism: Designers like George Nelson used “humanistic” traits to trigger social recognition areas in our brains.
- Linguistic Shift: We have collapsed Greek distinctions of love into one word that covers both people and cherished tools.
- Identity Extension: Ultimately, we love objects because they stabilize our identity and reflect who we are.
The Etymology of an Obsession: Why We Use “Love” for Objects
To stand before a George Nakashima Conoid chair is to experience a specific, peculiar form of heartache. It is not just an appreciation of joinery. Or the luster of American Black Walnut. It is a visceral recognition of the “Soul of a Tree.” We rarely settle for clinical descriptors like “functional” when we see it. Instead, we say we love it.
We grant a slab of timber the linguistic weight usually reserved for a spouse or a lifelong friend. This is not mere hyperbole. It reflects a deep psychological phenomenon. The boundary between “person” and “product” begins to dissolve here.
The Psychology of Emotional Attachment to Design
Our tendency to use human affection vocabulary is rooted deeply in Self-Expansion Theory. Psychology suggests we incorporate cherished objects into our very sense of self. We describe a Nakashima table as “honest” or “soulful.” Performing a “transferred affect” by doing this. We map our Secure Attachment schemas onto objects that provide stability.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a renowned psychologist, noted the power of this connection. He said, “Objects are the stabilizers of the self; they provide the scaffolding for our identity.” (1)
This connection explains why we feel safe around certain designs. However, this “love” truly solidifies through the Endowment Effect. Research in behavioral economics shows a fascinating shift. The moment an object enters our possession, its value shifts from market price to identity extension.
We do not love the chair on the showroom floor as much as the one in our corner. Once it is “ours,” our brain treats its loss with deep aversion. We feel the same pain we might feel toward the loss of a personal relationship.
Walter Benjamin, the German philosopher, captured this intimacy of ownership perfectly. He wrote, “Ownership is the most intimate relationship that one can have to objects.” (2)
Mid-Century Humanism and the Social Object
George Nakashima offers a spiritual relationship with wood. George Nelson provides a social one. Nelson pioneered Mid-Century Humanism. His designs function as “zaps” of creative personality. Look at the Coconut Chair or the Marshmallow Sofa.
If we describe a Nelson clock as “playful,” we engage the brain’s Medial Prefrontal Cortex. This is the same region used to assess human personalities. We treat the object like a friend.
Donald Norman, a cognitive scientist and design critic, explains this interaction. “We are all designers in the sense that all of us deliberately design our lives, our rooms, and the way we do things.” (3)
This bond tightens further through the IKEA Effect. We interact with these pieces. We oil the wood or adjust the tilt. This effort releases oxytocin in our brains. It mimics the chemical bonding of a romantic partnership.
Alice Rawsthorn, a leading design critic, emphasizes the impact of this daily interaction. “Design is one of the most powerful forces in our lives, whether or not we are aware of it.” (4)
From “It” to “Thou”: A Linguistic Shift
This shift traces back to a collapse of Greek distinctions of affection. The Greeks separated Eros (passion) and Storge (loyalty). We have collapsed them into a singular, modern catch-all. Today, “love” is the primary verb for Identity-Extension.
We use adjectives like “bold” or “loyal” for a chair. Our neurobiology struggles to distinguish between a reliable companion and a reliably beautiful tool. We use relationship language because these objects have ceased to be “Its.” They have become “Thous.”
Martin Buber, the existentialist philosopher, defined this transition in his famous work. “All real living is meeting.” (5)
When we meet a design object that resonates, we are not just using it. We are engaging in a dialogue with it.
Frank Lloyd Wright, the iconic architect, understood this spiritual connection to form. “Form and function are one.” (6)
The Object as a Mirror
We see ourselves in the things we curate. Sherry Turkle, an MIT professor, argues that we think with the objects we love. She states, “We find it familiar to consider objects as useful or aesthetic, as necessities or vain indulgences. We are on less familiar ground when we consider objects as companions to our emotional lives.” (7)
This companionship is why we feel grief when a beloved vase breaks. It is why we feel pride when a vintage lamp is restored. The object has stored a piece of our history.
Orhan Pamuk, the Nobel Prize-winning novelist, built an entire museum based on this premise. “Real museums are places where time is transformed into space.” (8)
Our homes become these museums. Our furniture becomes the curator of our memories.
Why We Ultimately “Love” Design
We love a Nakashima or a Nelson because of the alchemy of ownership. They stop being things. They start to become us.
Alain de Botton, in The Architecture of Happiness, frames this beautifully. “It is in dialogue with the pain of life that many beautiful things acquire their value.” (9)
Our emotional attachment to design is a defense mechanism against chaos. It is a way to impose order and beauty on our world.
William Morris, the father of the Arts and Crafts movement, gave us the ultimate rule for this love. “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” (10)
When we follow that rule, we surround ourselves with objects that deserve our love. We create an environment that reflects our soul.
Juhani Pallasmaa, a Finnish architect, speaks to the tactile nature of this love. “The door handle is the handshake of the building.” (11)
That handshake is the beginning of the relationship. It is the start of the love affair with the object.
Jean Baudrillard, the sociologist, saw objects as a language. “The object is not a thing, but a sign.” (12)
The sign says: “I am safe here. I am home.”
So, do not fear your obsession with that chair. Do not worry if you talk to your car. You are just extending your humanity into the physical world. You are making the world a little less lonely.
FAQ: Emotional Attachment to Design Objects
1. Why do people feel emotional attachment to inanimate objects?
Psychology points to Self-Expansion Theory. We incorporate objects into our self-concept to extend our identity. These objects validate who we are and provide a sense of stability and history.
2. What is the Endowment Effect in design?
The Endowment Effect is a behavioral economics concept. It states that people ascribe more value to things merely because they own them. Once you own a chair, losing it feels more painful than not buying it felt good.
3. How does the IKEA Effect influence our love for objects?
The IKEA Effect suggests that we love things more when we put effort into them. Building, maintaining, or restoring furniture creates a cognitive bond similar to nurturing a relationship.
4. Can design actually change our brain chemistry?
Yes. Interacting with pleasing or anthropomorphic designs can trigger the release of oxytocin. Viewing “friendly” designs can activate the Medial Prefrontal Cortex, the area used for social judgment.
5. Who are George Nakashima and George Nelson?
They are pivotal figures in design history. George Nakashima was a woodworker known for his spiritual connection to trees. George Nelson was a modernist designer known for playful, humanistic industrial design.
6. Is it healthy to “love” material objects?
Generally, yes. Objects serve as “stabilizers” for the self. They hold memories and facilitate emotional regulation. It only becomes unhealthy if the attachment turns into hoarding or replaces human connection.
Footnotes
- (1) Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Eugene Rochberg-Halton, The Meaning of Things: Domestic Symbols and the Self (Cambridge University Press, 1981).
- (2) Walter Benjamin, “Unpacking My Library,” in Illuminations (Schocken Books, 1968).
- (3) Donald Norman, The Design of Everyday Things: Revised and Expanded Edition (Basic Books, 2013).
- (4) Alice Rawsthorn, Hello World: Where Design Meets Life (Hamish Hamilton, 2013).
- (5) Martin Buber, I and Thou, trans. Ronald Gregor Smith (Scribner, 1958).
- (6) Frank Lloyd Wright, “In the Cause of Architecture,” Architectural Record (1908).
- (7) Sherry Turkle, Evocative Objects: Things We Think With (MIT Press, 2007).
- (8) Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence (Faber & Faber, 2009).
- (9) Alain de Botton, The Architecture of Happiness (Pantheon, 2006).
- (10) William Morris, “The Beauty of Life,” in Hopes and Fears for Art (Roberts Brothers, 1882).
- (11) Juhani Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses (Academy Editions, 1996).
- (12) Jean Baudrillard, The System of Objects, trans. James Benedict (Verso, 1996).
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