The number of unread books in the UK would stretch a third of the way to the moon.”
This stat stops me in my tracks while browsing my inbox one morning. That sounds like an awful lot of books, doesn’t it? Although, when it’s broken down, maybe not. According to research conducted by the Ideal Home Show, UK adults have an average of 12.6 unread books in their homes.
Twelve unread books? Pah! That’s nothing, I think. Not when I consider the ex who would finally finish one of the hundreds of psychotherapy tomes that had steadily taken over our one-bed flat, only to reward himself by purchasing another five online.
There are a raft of memes depicting the practice of buying more books than one can read – including the endlessly repurposed stock image of the guy checking out another woman while walking with his outraged girlfriend (“Me”, “New books at the bookstore”, and “The unread, untouched books that I have sitting at home” read the relatable captions).
The Japanese even have a term for the concept: tsundoku, which literally translates to “pile of books to read”. There is very little in the way of judgement, though – as the memes suggest, the practice comes with a wry self-deprecation, an underlying note of pride rather than shame about being the kind of person who just can’t stop buying books.
Being a bibliophile is seen as literary, highbrow – someone actively engaged in the noble pursuit of attaining knowledge. But let’s be real: this may be the socially acceptable, middle-class face of overconsumption, but it’s overconsumption just the same.
It’s not just reading material that’s getting bought and mothballed. According to one 2023 piece of research by resource-sharing app Olio, nearly a third of the possessions in a typical UK home are unused. A survey of 2,000 adults found that, of those who were reluctant to have a clearout, 32 per cent had simply “forgotten” they owned the items in the first place.
Every single home we went into – you’d take stuff away, and they’d be really happy about it. But they go shopping, and there’s more of a sense of guilt around it
It’s perhaps unsurprising when considering that the number of physical possessions we have has skyrocketed over the past hundred years, ever since the rise of materialism in the 1920s. Recent research from insurer Aviva strongly suggests that UK residents own considerably more items than they did even five years ago, and that the value of those items has risen by 38 per cent. In other words, stuff may cost more, but we’re also buying more of it.
Part of the blame can be laid firmly at the feet of modern ecommerce. The ease with which you can buy anything from anywhere at any time – and have it delivered to your home in under 24 hours – is truly astounding. Amazon was notorious in pioneering the “one-click” ordering system, which allowed customers to purchase items with the single touch of a mouse button; preloved apps like Vinted have made buying swathes of cheap, mass-produced clothes feel somehow environmentally superior to doing a shopping haul from Shein (though research suggests this isn’t the case). And then there’s the gamification of shopping by brands that have implemented powerful psychological techniques to keep customers coming back for more. In 2024, the European Commission even announced it was investigating Temu for “the risks linked to the addictive design of the service”.
Of course, buying is only half of the equation. The other is hanging onto all our newly acquired things while failing to cull our existing possessions to make way for them. But, while many of us may struggle not to overfill our homes, it’s important to distinguish between this and the far more serious hoarding disorder. Recognised as an official mental health condition by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), it’s defined as the persistent difficulty to discard or part with possessions, regardless of their actual value; distress associated with discarding; and the accumulation of possessions that congest and clutter someone’s living space.
Jack Moore, founder and director of Respect My Stuff, which offers de-hoarding services alongside training for social workers and housing associations, says that many of the cases that are presented to him as hoarding are actually better defined as “extreme clutter”.
“It’s built up, usually when someone has depression, where they can’t motivate themselves to sort things out because they’re so low,” he says. “Then all the stuff just builds up – the dirty washing, the split bin bags – until the person becomes completely overwhelmed.” This is distinct to hoarding disorder, he clarifies, because if someone offers to come in and clear everything away, the client is happy to capitulate. Not so with someone who displays hoarding tendencies. “They’ll start going, ‘Oh no, you can’t touch that. You can’t take that,’” explains Moore. “Now we’re talking about hoarding.”
He defines hoarding as a “disproportionate attachment to stuff”, and it can apply to anything. Let’s return to books, for example. Moore tells me about a man who had filled his entire house with them, acquiring more and more until the bathtub, walk-in shower and even the oven were stacked with beautiful towers of tomes.
There’s a big difference, too, between collecting and hoarding; someone engaging in the former is able to organise, prioritise, and give away or sell parts of their collection once they’ve reached their limit in terms of space.
There are, Moore says, indications that middle-class cases of “extreme cluttering” could be on the rise. Previously a rarity, the number of private, self-funded clients who have been in touch with him in the last two years has seen a marked uptick. The service usually costs several thousand pounds. “These are certainly not people on lower incomes,” says Moore. In some of these cases, he cites “excess buying from Amazon” as being a core issue. He’s gone into homes, seen the piles of tell-tale brown boxes, and asked what’s inside. “They’ll often say they don’t know – the place is just full of stuff they’ve bought,” he recalls. “The other day we had someone with five unopened air fryers.”
At the less extreme end of the spectrum, Vicky Silverthorn has worked with thousands of private clients since launching her professional home organising business, You Need a Vicky, 15 years ago. When she started, the home organising trend was in its infancy. Now, it’s exploded in popularity; Silverthorn has gone from a one-man band to managing a team of 10, with the business having just experienced its busiest month on record.
Decluttering has gained traction in part due to shows like Stacey Solomon’s Sort Your Life Out and The Home Edit, and global sensations like Marie Kondo (and her whimsical invitation to ask whether your possessions “spark joy”). Social media – particularly Instagram – has also been hugely influential, with masses of content showing people how to organise every inch of their homes using all manner of storage solutions. But parts of this online movement may have done more harm than good, warns Silverthorn.
“I think since the rise of Instagram organisation pictures, someone goes online, goes click, click, click and orders 20 cheap jars and puts everything they own in those jars in their pantry,” she says. “That probably won’t work for a lot of households, because it takes a lot to keep up that restocking.” That storage is going to hinder your space, not enhance it, she says: “Unplanned storage actually creates extra clutter.”
The way to move forward is that we see something, we like it, and we recognise that we can just admire it – we don’t have to own it
But why does it matter if we accumulate ever-increasing amounts of stuff, as long as it’s vaguely under control? Well, aside from the environmental damage inherent in mass production, consumption and waste, it has been scientifically proven not to make us happy.
So found James Wallman, CEO of the World Experience Organization (WXO), when he started researching his book Stuffocation: Living More with Less. “One of the things that came through was that experiences are better than material goods at making us happy. Lots of social science does not replicate, but this has been replicated a whole bunch of times.”
It was “kind of a watershed thing”, he says – a moment that convinced Wallman to start evangelising about shifting our focus from materialism to experientialism. “There’s a problem with the environment, problems with wellbeing in our society, ongoing, growing issues with loneliness,” he says. “We’re phone-bound, we’re home-bound; we’re not getting out and spending time with people. And buying more stuff is not going to make you more happy.”
This observation that physical things don’t necessarily equate to contentment is something Silverthorn has experienced first hand over the years. “Every single home we went into – you’d take stuff away, and they’d be really happy about it. But they go shopping, and there’s more of a sense of guilt around it.”
Decluttering went deeper than the surface level of having a tidy home, she noticed. “It gave them this headspace like nothing else. You go deep down into the roots of it, and it’s another level of feel-good.”
So how do you know if you have a problem with too much stuff – “stuffocation”, as Wallman might call it – and what can you do to cut back? Silverthorn says it’s an issue worth addressing if your surroundings are making you feel negative in any way, if you feel overwhelmed by your space, or if the amount of stuff in your space is physically getting in your way. “And if you’re spending too much money on things,” she adds. “For the majority of people who want to really look at what they’re spending, seeing your surroundings in a different way, clutter-free and organised, will help you on that journey to buying less – you’ll see how much easier and freeing it is, and you’re more likely to stay on that road with a bit of work.”
Moore has one simple rule: one in, one out. If you want to buy something new, you have to get rid of something of at least the same volume first. No exceptions. Stick to that, and you can’t go far wrong.
Changing your mindset and learning to differentiate between “want” and “need” is Silverthorn’s advice. “We see something, we like it, so we buy it,” she says. “The way to move forward is that we see something, we like it, and we recognise that we can just admire it – we don’t have to own it.”
Figuring out how many hours’ labour it would take to afford an item you’re planning on buying can also be a powerful tool. “It gives you a different perspective on whether you want it or not, when you go, ‘Wow, I’ve got to work five hours just to buy this,’” says Silverthorn. And participating in the sharing economy instead of purchasing something new is a great way to swerve more clutter. “Something like an electric drill has got a usage on average of something like seven minutes,” she finishes. “Always ask yourself whether you could borrow and not buy.”
Wallman is so convinced that we should be swapping consuming goods for consuming experiences to improve our lives, he’s launching the inaugural London Experience Week at the end of April, an event designed to connect people across the global experience economy and showcase what they can do.
“If you want to increase your chances of happiness, spend on experiences, not stuff,” he says simply. It’s not just about spending money, he clarifies: “A walk in the park or going down to the beach or going out in the forest or seeing some friends doesn’t need to cost a lot.”
In fact, it’s about a resource far more precious than money: time. “As the clock ticks down, if you spend it scrolling, buying stuff, you’re not going to help yourself. But if you can get yourself into that habit of spending on experiences… it’s going to be better.”
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