The Four

the twentieth century, came within reach of hundreds of millions, even
billions, of people.
In the eighteenth century, the French aristocracy spent 3 percent
of the nation’s GDP on beautiful wigs, powders, and dresses. They
relied on the opulence of their dress to convey status and inspire
respect and submission in their servants. Nike invented neither
theater retailing nor endorsements. The Catholic Church has known
for centuries the power of an edifice (stores), and built a brand that
has survived in the face of wars and astounding scandals. Marie
Antoinette’s powdered makeup, wigs, and dresses became the rage.
Now, Lebron wears Beats. Nothing has changed.
Why? Natural selection—and the desire and envy that arise from it.
Powerful people have greater access to housing, warmth, food, and
sexual partners. Many who surround themselves with beautiful things
claim they are not pursuing a mate, but pure appreciation for the
objects. Sort of. The mesh on a Bottega Veneta bag or the slope of the
back of a Porsche 911 puts you in the moment. Just. So. Beautiful. You
want to possess it, stand in the light of its power, and register how
people view you in this softest, most flattering light.
Drive a Porsche, even at fifty-five miles an hour, and you feel more
attractive—and more likely to have a random sexual experience. Since
men are wired to procreate aggressively, the caveman in us hungers
for that Rolex, or Lamborghini—or Apple. And the caveman, thinking
with his genitals, will sacrifice a lot (pay an irrational price) for the
chance to impress.
Luxury products make no sense on a rational level. We just can’t
break free of the desire to be closer to divine perfection or to procreate.
When luxury works, the act of spending itself is part of the experience.
Buying a diamond necklace out of the back of a truck, even if the
stones are real, isn’t as satisfying as the purchase at Tiffany, from a
well-dressed sales assistant who presents the necklace under brilliant
lights and speaks in hushed tones. Luxury is the market equivalent of
feathers on a bird. It’s irrational and sexual, and it easily overwhelms
the killjoy, rational signals of the brain—such as “You can’t afford this”
or “This really makes no sense.”
Luxury has also generated enormous wealth. The collision of God
and sex atoms ignited energy and value never before seen in business.