Site icon Ember Trace

To The Studs

Moderation.

It’s a term we hear often. But not one we often heed.

We are told to drink in moderation. To enjoy desserts in moderation. To watch TV or check social media channels in moderation.

We’re even told to do healthy things — like exercise or drink water — in moderation.

The rationale is simple. Balance is essential to life.

Too much of just about anything can overtax our systems. It can cause our engines to burn out, without a governor built-in to knock us back down to a safer speed.

Yet, for all its perceived benefits, moderation represents presents a substantial threat. It gives us an edict we must abide by, with little guidance on how to achieve it.

And so, we often find ourselves drawn to the extremes. We find ourselves tantalized by the adage Go big or go home.

Going big can seem more quantifiable than going for moderation. It can seem more aspirational. More exciting.

But how does this play out when we’re going home?


There’s a phrase that those in the home remodeling industry like to use. One that I heard plenty when I was a marketer in that industry years ago.

To the studs.

When remodelers used that term, it meant they were demolishing part of a home and then rebuilding it. The tiling, siding, drywall, appliances — all of it was getting removed. Then, when only the pieces of the house’s wooden framework — the studs — were showing, they’d install the upgraded replacements.

For remodelers, to the studs is the gold standard. It’s the equivalent of a blank canvas for an artist — a perfect forum to deliver a grand vision.

Yet, to the studs has found a new audience in recent years. An audience that’s more fixated on the process than the possibilities.

And this attention has transformed its meaning.

Outside of remodeling circles, to the studs is now associated with cost cutting. With tossing out everything that’s not 100% essential.

In a business context, that could mean budget cuts. In a personal finance context, it could mean slashing expenses. And in a pandemic context, it could mean shutting down everything except the hospital, pharmacy and grocery store.

Yes, to the studs is the polar opposite of our societal obsession with excess. Embracing it means going beyond the zone of moderation, and simply rebooting instead.

But for all the short term benefits of this strategy, there are some costly drawbacks.


For years, I’ve been stripping aspects of my life to the studs.

It all began with a push to get healthier.

First, I gave up on fast food. I haven’t seen the inside of a McDonalds in ages.

Then came a self-imposed ban on sugary drinks. Goodbye Dr Pepper, sweet tea and orange juice.

Then I went sober. Dry January has lasted for years.

More recently, I’ve focused on other areas. I’ve tried to drastically cut back on debt, my volume of streaming entertainment and my social media usage. And I’ve dialed back on some social engagements, even before a global pandemic mandated such moves.

The changes have made me healthier and more efficient. But it hasn’t all been rosy.

Sacrificing these habits long-term has removed many points of interaction from my life. In a way, they’ve caused me to withdraw from society.

It took me quite a while to realize that. And by then, the damage I’d already done had left a mark.

Cultural connections like having a round of drinks with friends at happy hour were gone. So was the comfort of feasting on a Whopper and fries after a rough day.

All around me, these experiences were still happening. But for me, they were foreign.

Once I recognized this, I had two choices. I could return to those experiences to some degree or another, writing off the years I went without them. Or I could maintain the more limited reality I had created for myself, with full awareness of the self-confinement embedded in that decision.

I chose the second option. Others in my position might have decided to go a different route.

But the choice I made is beside the point. My recognition that there was a choice to be made is what matters.

By opening my eyes, I made it out of the wilderness.


As I write this, the world is in a to the studs moment.

The global COVID-19 pandemic  — and its public health and economic ramifications — have forced most of humanity to strip itself of excess.

Social interaction is strained. In-person commerce has eviscerated. And entertainment can only be found through our electronic devices — or in our anxiety-laden dreams.

There has surely been much pain in this moment. The combination of widespread illness and financial hardship is nothing short of devastating. And we must find a way to put that devastation to an end.

But as we work through the big problems, we’re learning just how small all the other ones are.

Indeed, the so-called “essential” trappings of culture have turned out to be more expendable than we’ve thought.

This has led to much analysis about how whether some of that in-person culture will return. There’s a chance that many business trips and conferences will permanently shift to a virtual format. That movie theaters might lose the war against streaming in-home entertainment services, or turn into a specialized relic. That the dine-in restaurant experience will become one solely of luxury, not convenience.

Of course, the prognostications of experts only carry so much weight.

Economic realities and public health concerns will help determine just how everything plays out. But so will the decisions we make moving forward.

Indeed, as our society continues to settle into this no-frills reality, we will all eventually face the same crossroads I once did. Do we stay the course, or revert back to the way we acted before?

Our decision here hinges our whims.

Each of us must look in the mirror and determine the value of re-investing in social interaction. In reinstituting a layer of excess to our bare essentials — even as such a move brings risk back into the picture.

The sum of those decisions will serve as our compass going forward. It will determine how our to the studs project will play out long-term. It will guide our legacy.

So, even if consideration of our next move is agonizing, we must go through with this exercise. It matters.

Yes, it turns out that tearing things down is the easy part. Rebuilding is much harder.

Exit mobile version