No one manages "desirability" better than Patek Philippe
To the uninitiated, the immense popularity of the Nautilus is a somewhat of mystery. At first glance, it is not especially good looking. Internally, its movement is outdated, and its bracelet underwhelms. Adding insult to injury, it isn't particularly original, either.
When Patek first introduced the Nautilus in 1976, they followed the crowd, and the emerging steel sports trend, by modeling it after another already successful watch—the AP Royal Oak (even relying upon the same designer, Gerald Genta).
In watch discussions, the Nautilus isn't credited with exceptional beauty, quality, or innovation. It is a merely a commodity meant to signal status.
Monochrome aptly describes the Nautilus as the "...most desirable (sought-after) model." Akin to the celebrity who's "famous for being famous," the Nautilus is desired for its desirability.
The following anecdote from Hodinkee offers insight into the phenomenon:
One U.S. Patek dealer tells the story of a good watch customer who surprised him by showing up in the store wanting a steel Nautilus. The customer is a dyed-in-the-wool classic-gold-watch guy.
"Tell me the truth," the jeweler said to the customer. "Do you really like this watch? If I took the logo off this watch, would you buy it?" The customer thought for a second, then said no.
"Then why do you want it?"
"Because I hear so much about it and people say you have to have it."
Photo source: Langepedia Given its "me too" origins and derivative design, what is this watch's appeal? The answer is simple: "mimetic desire." People want it because other people want it.
But what is "mimetic desire," exactly? Here's a quick overview:
René Girard, called the “Darwin of the social sciences,” discovered that humans don’t desire anything individually, entirely on their own, but mimetically—they imitate the desires of others, which causes them to pursue people, places, and things, even their very identity, based on what other people model as desirable.
In other words, we have a deep-seated need to copy others, and our supposedly unique desires are often a flimsy imitation. When it comes to wanting something, such as a watch, what we believe is an informed and rational choice is anything but. Mimetic desire means that the popularity of a certain watch actually provokes, and reinforces, our desire for it. And that brings us back to the Nautilus. Mimetic desire doesn't just cause us to copy one another. It also creates conflict by driving us to desire the same thing. (A fact to which anyone on a wait list for a watch can attest). Naturally, this heightened desire drives demand, and increases prices. As Hodinkee has noted, "e-commerce created a vibrant secondary market for Nautiluses...at premium prices. Those prices reinforced the watches' image as great investments. It was a formula for a frenzy that now feeds on itself."
While it doesn't take a PhD to see mimetic desire's handiwork here, hype for Patek Philippe is nothing new. What is worthy of consideration, however, is what mimetic desire means for watch enthusiasts more generally. Are we true connoisseurs? Or mindless imitators?
Arguably, we could be more intentional with our wanting. Perhaps we should strive to avoid manias and bubbles and be more considerate about the watches we want.
René Girard, the thinker behind mimetic desire, was skeptical that we could change our ways: "We don't even know what our desire is. We ask other people to tell us our desires," he said. "We would like our desires to come from our deepest selves, our personal depths—but if it did, it would not be desire. Desire is always for something we feel we lack." And what is it that we lack? Thierry Stern, the president of Patek Philippe, may be on to something here.
When asked about the status associated with attaining a steel Nautilus, he said: "That's human nature. There will always be people who wear the watch just to tease you and say, 'You see, I have it already.' This will never change."
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