the rarity desire
Rarity: My Little Pony (Generation 4). Despite her name, she’s anything but.
What is it about the concept of rarity that compels us?
We are fascinated by rarity and value rare things. Rarity makes something intrinsically different.
Whether it is a small, rural town offering up the most bizarre of large and obscure roadside attractions such as the world’s largest ball of twine - or a large flawless emerald, we are innately interested in ‘the one and only’ just about anything, or even anyone, as long as they are rare.
But why? Why does rarity matter so much to us? And where do we look to identify and validate that?
We don’t need rare things, but we do desire them. Consider Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, where rarity can be located as an element of Esteem or Self-Actualization. Beyond food, shelter, and safety, it is with ‘belonging’ that rare things may make an impact. Possessing or collecting rare things may be useful as an investment or a sign of status. We can also locate the practice of collecting within this top-of-the-pyramid structure, too.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs
Outside of physical rarity, value is represented by a market. Whether the market is for gold, flowers or Pokemon cards, the perception of value resides within a market. Markets can be loosely organized, like spoon collectors, or highly organized, like investors in a stock market. Markets may come and go - for example, the Beanie Babies boom of the 1990s/early 2000s once had substantial value and is now essentially worthless. Or perhaps more exemplary, the infamous Dutch tulip market bubble of the 1630s.
These are temporary rarity structures. Without the value that a market assigns, an object may no longer be considered rare. Very few people still collect Beanie Babies anymore, so most hold little to no value apart from a few exceptions.
A market helps to reinforce and make rarity visible or identifiable, but this is not always the case.
Some types of rarity are more focused on fascination as opposed to just collecting. Consider the nefarious collections surrounding criminals or serial killers - their acts are despicable and heinous, but they hold a grip on popular culture and media. We are fascinated not by their violence, which we abhor, but because they are rare and morbidly different. And while there is a dark market of memorabilia of serial killers' items (such as websites that auction off true crime memorabilia or Adolf Hitler’s watercolor paintings), this is simply a deeper expression of the rarity fascination shared by many.
The hair of Charles Manson, up for auction.
In either case, as expressed through market value or via fascination, rarity is tied to identity. Rarity informs us about aspects of ourselves.
Identity is central to our human experience. We continually pursue identity through the art that we make or collect, through the music we like, the movies we watch, or the communities we are a part of.
While we are growing up, the pursuit of identity is a necessity. We are learning how to become someone, to assume a role as an independent member of society. As adults, we consider that our identity is ‘complete’, a finished process. But this is not the case. We continue to grow and change throughout our lives professionally, through our education, raising children, and through the biological cycles of life.
Identity drives much of what we do, invisibly. And the rarity desire is an expression of just that.
