I recently decided to, finally, have my iPhone fixed, only to realize a few hours later that my AppleCare could have covered it. I was in a low mood until my partner suggested that I was robbing myself of a good decision.
The iPhone needed fixing, and procrastinating on it wasn’t useful. Deciding to do something about it was. Paying a little more wasn’t a big deal, especially compared to the business opportunities in front of me. I realized I could either continue to drain myself for a small expense, or let it go and focus on the projects in front of me. I had, unknowingly, engaged in maladaptive frugality.
For me, it started from a young age, during which frugality was framed as a virtue and mindless spending as, practically, sinful. During one of my parents’ anniversary dinners, they ate takeout, and my dad decided to use it as a teachable moment. What I took away: eating at a good restaurant was bad, taking out cheap food was good because it saved money.
My parents grew up in Hong Kong, and the people there have a lot of useful stories about saving money. A writer describes being frugal in Hong Kong, “There are cultural and economic reasons why frugality runs deep here. Many families carry memories of instability—economic downturns, business failures, illness, or the pressure of supporting relatives. For others, the habit is inherited: parents who lived through leaner periods teach children to treat spending as a moral hazard rather than a tool.”
Matthew Hung describes Hong Kong being colonized by the UK, “Engaging in the free market gave a freedom to those blocked from democracy by allowing them an alternative context from which to improve their own situation, albeit at the individual level rather than the collective level of citizenship.”
My parents carried that attitude with them to Canada, and I also grew up practicing and valuing frugality. It has been very useful at times (including being able to travel for less!), and very limiting at others. Here’s an example, which I wrote about a couple of years ago:
I have a hard time spending, to the point where I would often procrastinate on buying things that I know I’ll need in the future. And of course, I don’t have it when I need it because I didn’t buy it… so I decided to restrain my obsession with not spending. Make good systems-level decisions and give consideration/consultation to high impact decisions, and also be ok paying $30 to book an airline seat earlier. I plan to have fun spending my money in the future, so it’s time to start practicing now.
When you default to the lowest cost option without considering the drawbacks, procrastinating or hesitating on spending, or guilt tripping yourself about an essential expense or making a recoverable mistake, you’re engaging in maladaptive frugality.
The most useful thing you can do is be mindful of it and try to draw yourself into the present moment. As Tim Ferriss asks, “What does your last year—not your childhood beliefs—tell you about where you might invest more for a higher quality of life?”
When you make frugality your servant, it can offer you freedom. When you make frugality your master—maladaptive frugality—it traps you and limits your possibilities.
12 responses to “Maladaptive frugality”
I think for a lot of people, it comes down to not having a good sense of one’s own desires. I too, coming from an Asian background, have had to “learn” to spend money – and that has primarily meant (continues to mean, tbh) having a conversation with myself about what spending that money means to me. Some of it is that I am not someone who enjoys material possessions much – I do like things that cost money, like travel, and going to shows, and trying out good wine, say, but it’s not the mere acquisition of objects that matters, it’s what these experiences teach me. And the depth of what I learn doesn’t correlate to its cost.
That resonates, thanks for sharing the thoughtful response Sameer. Making a pause to have that conversation creates a sense of mindfulness of desires. This idea draws to mind thin vs. thick rewards, impulsive vs. fulfilling purchases, and more tangentially, essential vs. discretionary spending.
This is relatable to me because I have South Asian parents who built their lives from very little, so I learnt frugality early. But when my family became more solvent, and I started to make money, I learned about the Sam Vimes “Boots” Theory of Socio-economic Unfairness. This has changed the way I decide my purchases – I now buy less but buy better quality.
Thanks for reading, Tanmee! This was my first time hearing of that theory, I am glad you shared it. It reminds me of two sayings, “Being poor is expensive,” and “If you think hiring a professional is expensive, wait until you hire an amateur.”
I see this too, my partner is from mexico and the peasants coming from a very different economic class. Their house is cluttered with low quality and broken stuff, they have 4 tvs but are only 3 people, and they are just stowed away. My frugality is also maladaptive but in a different way. It seems there are different archetypes.
Thanks for reading and sharing, J. Different archetypes is interesting.
I have gambling issues, refuse to spend $100 but will loose $1000 because there is a chance of winning more.
Hi Liam, thanks for reading. I hope you find/create a chance to work through the issues.
I shake sometimes when I choose between getting a big mac combo out just getting a mcdouble. I’m part Scottish-American, and not spending is in my blood.
Hi Kipper, thanks for reading. I like how specific your comment was, very relatable.
@Herbert Great post. I’m in a similar transition and always framed it as moving toward a value base approach as opposed to purely frugal based. I like the malapative frugality framing though. It’s always nice when someone can articulate something better than yourself.
PS Do you have an rss feed?
Hi cgat, thanks for reading and for the kind words. Yes! This link should work: https://herbertlui.net/feed