“O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars Are in the poorest things superfluous!” King Lear, Act 2 Scene 4

Many of us, it would appear, struggle to comprehend what it means to have little, let alone suffer such a fate.

At the end of November 2016, an interesting letter appeared in the Guardian newspaper.  Written by a personal finance journalist based in London, it described the recently completed experience of a 12-month challenge to live on nothing “but the essentials”.  The journalist’s aim was “to embrace extreme frugality”, shake up her spending habits and reduce the principal on her mortgage.

A number of details in the letter provide testament to her fortitude.  She did not pay for a vacation, but instead “managed a free holiday, cycling the Suffolk and Norfolk coast and camping on beaches”.  She gave up her custom of drinking in the local pub, and going to gigs and the cinema.  She did the washing up rather than produce a bottle when invited over for dinner with friends. She did not allow herself any form of transport other than a bicycle.  None of this sounds particularly easy, or without social as well as material sacrifice.

But what exactly does it mean “to embrace extreme frugality” in Britain in 2016?  The journalist appears to have decided on a number of “essentials”, listed up front as “to pay my bills, including mortgages, utilities, broadband, phone bill, charity donations, life insurances, money to help my family and basic groceries”.  So clear is she about the essential nature of these “essentials” that she declares she “only spent £51.95 all year”, consisting of £50 to a roofer following a misunderstanding with a neighbour and £1.95 on a bag of chips whilst on the cycling holiday in Norfolk.  Really?

It is understandable that she would not want to foist her “extreme frugality” (a phrase she repeats) on other members of her family; and that she would want to pay off debts.  But what is striking, especially in someone so dedicated to the concept of breaking out of a cycle of consumerism, is her certitude about what is essential; and the contrast between her certitude and stark reality.

Consider broadband.  Are we saying that even a life of extreme frugality in 2016 cannot be led without broadband?  Allow not nature more than nature needs, and man’s life is as cheap as beast’s … with broadband!  Granted she might have reasonably felt she could not switch off broadband given that other occupants of the household were not joining in her experiment, but why then describe it as extreme frugality?

It is touching that she criticises herself for spending £1.95 on a bag of chips, given the contrast between this trivial purchase and the supposed necessities of her daily life.  Did she think about whether expenditure on utilities could be reduced?  Perhaps an inessential top-up of home insulation (or turn-down of the thermostat in certain rooms) could have reduced the essential expenditure on natural gas for heating?  Were steps taken to reduce essential electricity consumption?  How much consideration was given to the essential nature of the groceries?  She says these were reduced to three meals a day, toiletries and house cleaning products; but the food choices we make have a large impact on the world, as do our water usage and things we flush down the toilet.

In many ways, it is a heartening story.  At the end of the year, the journalist realises that she hardly missed the things she gave up; that she feels happier, less oppressed by consumerism, surprisingly unenthusiastic about rushing out and hitting the shops now that the ordeal is over.  It is an optimistic tale that many, perhaps most, of us would also be happier if we too could but see through the media promise that happiness can be bought.

But it also a tale of just how unaware we are.  At the end of the article, the author can savour her life without the “inessentials”.  As for the “essentials”, there is no apparent interest to cull, or at least to re-examine, their population.  On the contrary, it appears that some poor extras were not so superfluous after all: moisturiser, she says, will make it on to the list next time.