Ikeaology

Sietze Bosman critiques modern conformity and societal norms, as illuminated by the everyday choices and living spaces of the masses.

The glimmering of the spring sun flows through the windows of Man-in-the-world’s affordable-sized apartment. The streams of liquid dawn adorn the interior with hues of crimson and fiery yellow. Now the lackluster qualities of Man-in-the-world’s den can be clearly observed. At first glance, it seems decorated and organized according to good taste. But to the critical eye, it soon becomes apparent that something is wrong. Upon closer inspection we see, next to the window, a bookshelf. Not a particularly beautiful one, or even a handmade one. No, it is a Billy. The most common envoy of that wretched church of dreariness, that damned warehouse of wholesale practicality and efficiency: Ikea.

Man-in-the-world loves to stuff his dwelling to the hilt with all things Scandinavian-sounding. He feels himself quite a man of the world, seated in his Havberg chair, looking around his carefully arranged settings. He meticulously studied the Ikea brochure to become an initiate in the deeper teachings of Scandinavian interior styling. You see, as a layman, he had many troubles finding his own style. He was fumbling around in the dark. He was lost in the chaotic world of styles that exist out there. Victorian, Baroque, rustic, what was he to choose?

The Ikea brochure was a breath of fresh air to him. Here he found a cleverly laid out document that he could carry around and consult any time he felt anxiety about the upholstery of his dwelling. It caters to different tastes of color but is always infused with the unmistakable Ikea quality of practicality, cleverness, and affordability. Man-in-the-world is very enamored with this document. One could go as far as saying that the Ikea brochure has become somewhat of a guide for the rest of his life. Why choose a difficult individual path, when such a document lays out a clear and socially acceptable route?

Such has become Man-in-the-world’s outlook on his entire life. He does not want to spend energy on finding unique ways of expressing himself. No, there are much better ways of spending one’s time. Besides, if one’s home is very much like the home of others, visitors will feel at ease. Who wants to make their visitors quiver with horror by exposing them to deviant styles of living? For goodness’ sake, you may just as well feed them some escargot. No, none of that is desirable. Remember, fashion exists because we want to be like each other, not because we want to differentiate.

In all aspects of life, Man-in-the-world has the same practical approach given by Ikeaology. His car, for instance. Due to the miraculous workings of capitalism, cars that once cost a hundred thousand dollars can be had for a couple of hundred dollars. So, he could drive a BMW 7 series, or an Alpha Romeo convertible, or some fast hatchback. But no, his life according to the tenets of Ikeaology has left him with some savings. He opts for a practical, efficient, and affordable car. Nothing shouty or flashy, so certainly not a bright color. Besides, black and grey cars can be bought straight from the inventory, with no waiting lists. Swell, right? Always practical he is, Man-in-the-world. He loves being a part of the unified mass of men, the great anonymous blob of sameness. Not that he would ever admit to such a fact. No, he loves the safety and practicality of the horde of Ikeaologists, but he thinks himself a man of the world. The master of his life, the captain of his ship. He reads the newspaper and has the right to vote. He is an informed citizen, darn it!

Now and then, because always watchful of the budget, the Man-in-the-world goes out to dinner with his family. The establishment of choice is an all-you-can-eat restaurant. They have a special section for the kids, where they can play, how handy! And the entire joint is stuffed with people who have the same outlook as he does. I mean, there is no more practical, efficient, and affordable way to go out to dinner as an all-you-can-eat. The great bonus is that he can venture safely into unknown areas of world cuisine from among the safety of the masses. He can have a serving of crêpes, or some unknown exotic fruits, and feel himself supported by his peers. They will surely understand when his bold culinary experiment goes sour and the dish is not to his liking. Many affirming nods will befall him as he tells the waitress to take the full plate away. No shame is needed or required. He is understood. Trying something different is not always fun, so he goes to get another serving of steak and fries. Yummy!

Ikeaology prescribes that unification is best. That means that one should certainly never demonstrate a political view that deviates from the accepted narrative. No, we live in a democracy and the masses are right. Wisdom of crowds, you know. So, sticking with what the majority thinks is best. It simply is the most practical approach, as you are sure never to have to defend your position, and if someone confronts you with their weird deviant views, you can count on your peers to correct him. After all, we should all get along, and deviants will certainly not help with that. In fact, such people can, and should, be made known to authorities when need be.

The mass man, or Man-in-the-world, likes his entertainment “light.” His Billy bookshelf is filled with non-offensive authors like Greta Thunberg, Oprah, Obama, Mandela, Deepak Chopra, and similar ones. Nothing too deep or challenging; reading is relaxation, mind you. His musical taste, his cinematic taste, and his taste in clothing all show this great affection for practicality and ubiquitousness. It is so nice to visit friends and listen to the same music, and watch the same movies at their place as at home. Deviant tastes divide friends, you see. Sharing is better and wholesome.

With the exponential growth of the number of mass men, the standards for our public spaces have also fallen prey to the needs of the mass man. Old classical buildings are torn down; mom-and-pop stores are turned into 7-Elevens, phone stores, Starbucks, or Subways. Every main shopping street or mall has become a veritable temple of sameness, with the same dreary nondescript mix of megacorporations drowning the streets with their copious neon signs and flashing screens. All trying to lure the mass man to buy their safe, practical, and affordable stuff.

The irony is that the mass man is especially tempted by clever advertising slogans like “just for you,” or some cheesy reference to emotions like “what the heart wants.” Such enthralling spells have the clever guise of addressing just the individual customer but, of course, have the sole aim of enticing as much of the masses as possible. The mass man lets himself be played like a fiddle, because leading a life of individual choice is hard, and the advertisers can make all these hard decisions for him. All the while he can tell himself that he does lead a life of his choosing, as the masses choose the same, so it must be right.

Ikeaology is a very practical outlook, or religion even, to help one master the chaos of modern life. It covers one with a non-stick coating and all of the weirdness of deviant people just slides off. It makes one impervious to better arguments, better reasoning, superior tastes, or higher wisdom that would otherwise lure one away from the safety of the masses. Thank God that from the frosty, enlightened lands of Scandinavia, the great philosophy of Ikeaology came down to us. What on earth would we be without such inspired guidance?