I once bought a banana slicer.
Yes, a curved, yellow-plastic, banana-shaped device designed to solve the all-too-well-known problem of slicing a banana with a knife.
A problem, I might add, I had never once considered a problem until the day I saw a YouTube video with that thing and a handy Amazon link below it.
Of course, I clicked, rushed through the page, and read: “People who bought this also bought a …”
People.
Who are these people?
And what are they doing with so many bananas?
Anyway, that banana slicer was sitting in a drawer for five years until I gave it away. Used it once.
Here’s the thing. We seem to be living in the golden age of solving problems that don’t exist.
Never did. Never will.
“Problem-Solving” Products
Some products are truly great. They serve a real purpose and solve a problem.
Others not so much.
You’ve seen them. In every corner of your Instagram feed.
An ergonomic garlic peeler. A self-stirring mug. The smart water bottle that reminds you to drink water (which, ironically, you can only drink after charging the bottle for two hours).
All of them share one thing: they exist because someone said, “What if we could make this slightly more convenient?”
And you and I — like any rational, intelligent human being — saw the ad and thought, “Yes. My life would be better if my pillow had Bluetooth.”
It won’t.
Because the problem isn’t your pillow. Or your hydration. Or your knife skills.
The problem is that we’ve confused buying solutions with solving problems.
Fixing the Unbroken
Does it need fixing?
Marketers are masters at making us feel like we’re missing something. That’s why we buy Medium or Substack courses.
Their favorite strategy is the art of inventing inconvenience, in other words, convincing you that something completely fine is actually a modern tragedy in need of urgent fixing.
- “Are you tired of struggling with tangled charging cables?” (No, but now I am.)
- “Does your avocado always brown too soon?” (I’ve never thought about it, but thank you for the anxiety.)
- “Do you ever wish your toothbrush could connect to Wi-Fi?” (…do I? Well of course I do… who wouldn’t?)
By the time the ad finishes, you’re fully convinced that your life is an unspeakable mess without this one gadget that costs “only” $29.99. But today it’s magically 40% off.
That “40% off” is the siren song of the slightly bored, stressed 2020s shopper. You don’t even need the thing. You just need to feel like you got a great deal on something.
The Minimalist’s Revenge
I’m not a minimalist. I wish. But I’ve got a wife and a handful of kids. No way, I am going to be a minimalist anytime soon.
My closet still hides at least three different “solutions” to my nonexistent fitness problems.
But the truth is, nothing feels better than looking at a drawer full of unnecessary junk and realizing:
“Ah, yes. I was trying to buy self-improvement.”
Because that’s what most of these things promise. Not just convenience, but transformation. A new, improved version of you who never burns toast, always stays hydrated, and stores avocados like a pro.
That person doesn’t exist. It’s not me, for sure.
The only thing you’re actually transforming is your credit card balance.
How to Spot a “Fake Problem”
You can save yourself a lot of buyer’s remorse by asking three simple questions before every purchase:
- Have I ever been truly inconvenienced by this? — If the answer is “not really,” congratulations — you’ve just dodged a fake problem.
- Would my grandma have survived without it? — If yes, you can too. She made entire Thanksgivings without an “electric turkey baster with LED lights.” You’ll be fine.
- Does this solve a problem I actually have, or one I’ve just been told I have? — If it’s the latter, it’s not a solution.
The Joy of Not Buying
Ah, if we all had this…
There’s something liberating about saying no to the next shiny thing.
- Your kitchen doesn’t need a smart egg cooker.
- Your living room doesn’t need a $200 air purifier that looks like an alien egg.
- And you definitely don’t need another “habit tracker” app to tell you that you forgot to meditate again.
- (You probably don’t need that Substack course, either.)
Instead, you can enjoy the luxury of using what you already have. Which is most likely way too much anyway. (From experience.)
When you stop buying solutions for problems you don’t have, your wallet starts to look a little happier. Maybe invest in ETFs.
The Bottom Line
Don’t buy a banana slicer.
That’s basically what I am saying.
But the truth is, the problems worth fixing can’t be solved with a gadget. They take time, effort, discipline, and maybe even a bit of boredom.
The next time you see a “problem solution”, close the tab, make yourself a coffee, and celebrate this small victor.
You don’t need that banana slicer.
Just a knife.
For the banana…
(Note to self).