Balancing beauty and desire

MIRA SUCHAROV

With the $19.7 billion Canadians spent on home renovations across 10 major cities in 2007 – according to research reported by the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation – it's obvious that home improvement is big business. Yet with the shadow cast by the current financial crisis, it is timely to consider the ethics of renovating and redecorating. How do we balance the desire to cultivate beauty with the financial, ecological and social costs associated with over-consumption?

I've arguably spent more than my share of time thinking about the physical surroundings of home, given that by the time I left home for university, I had never lived in a single dwelling for more than three and a half years. Sure, there was a divorce and a job relocation, but mostly, my mom simply loved to move. The thrill of the house hunt was intoxicating for the presumed hopes and dreams that a new house might fulfil. I still fondly recall my aunt taking me shopping in Kerrisdale for a gift for my new bedroom at the time. I selected what I considered to be the height of sophistication: the iconic Saul Steinberg New Yorker poster. To me, that piece of mass-produced art represented an attempt to be part of what I considered – at age 12 – the beginning of a design conversation.

Nowadays, with the problem of overspending a pressing concern, I wonder how we can strike the balance between the virtue of beauty and the vice of greed. Good lighting is esthetically pleasing; one wouldn't want to host a dinner party in one's office lunchroom. The cool touch of granite provides a natural pleasure that laminate counters do not. Arranging decorative items according to the

one-third/two-thirds formula known as the "golden mean" is inherently pleasing to the eye. Tall baseboards and crown moldings invoke a sense of history. And mid-century modern classics remind us of the design visionaries who radically recast furniture tradition.

But what are the costs associated with pursuing these esthetic pleasures? In addition to one's financial outlay for engaging in home renovations, we have to ask where those laminate counters will meet their fate. Ideally, they'll be reused by a worthy organization like Habitat for Humanity, but too often they end up in a landfill.

It is the social aspect, however, that may be the most complex. Beautifying one's home is like a conversation. Those counters and moldings help the home express itself, one might say. But at what point is the conversation healthy and functional – involving a give and take that feeds the soul and intellect of the conversants – and at what point does it begin to resemble the dysfunctionality of gossip or self-promotion?

When we had new counters and cabinets installed in our kitchen, partly to accommodate a small home office, my husband walked in when the project was done and swiftly declared that the old backsplash no longer "worked." (Long a subscriber to two home magazines that not so subtly encourage the spirit of renovation, I made little secret of being thrilled by his forthrightness.) Out with the white, low-end ceramic tiles and in with a trendy, sand-colored glass mosaic that better coordinated with the caramel counters and maple cabinets. To cut costs, we had the new tiles installed atop the old ones, a decision that helped to defer the landfill dilemma for a while, at least.

But I wonder whether these esthetic choices were motivated by brute materialism or the pursuit of beauty? While materialism refers to the idea of valuing life based on the acquisition of things – a cycle that cannot help but be vicious, cultivating beauty (think gardening) has long been considered more philosophically virtuous. Most consider art to be a worthy value – such that we ask our government to fund artistic endeavors that the market alone cannot support. When can a backsplash – or a large addition that provides more space than a family needs – be considered akin to art and beauty? Socially, when do these choices represent an honest desire for esthetic pleasure and when are they an attempt to declare that we are keeping up with the Joneses?

Home magazines, the ultimate in consumerist eye candy, sometimes address these tough issues by framing them in terms of "taste." Etiquette relies on good taste: as children we learn what to say in social situations and what to avoid. But taste in home improvements can easily fall into the trap of trend chasing.

Perhaps one way to tackle the dilemma is to assess how much actual pleasure the given change gives you, the homeowner, rather than being motivated by nods of approval from your friends. This no doubt taps into a larger discussion about what motivates life choices. The ethics of esthetics, however, remains a tricky – but worthwhile – question.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She is currently writing a book on nostalgia and political change.

^TOP