A Manifesto of Everyday Autonomy and Efficiency

 
I have been cutting my own hair at home for a little over thirty years, a habit I have maintained uninterrupted since the mid-1990s. My haircut is simple and functional: a nearly shaved buzz cut across my entire head (about one millimeter in length), which I repeat every two or three weeks. I also use the same clipper for shaving on a regular basis, roughly every four or five days.
In the mid-1990s, I purchased my first corded hair clipper, which lasted until 2012–2013. I then bought another one with a rechargeable battery. When the battery failed, I continued using it plugged directly into the electrical outlet until 2026. I have now acquired a new, modern, inexpensive model—the only corded clipper I could find—because I distrust batteries and their built-in obsolescence. It cost me nearly ARS 50,000, and I estimate that it will pay for itself after only three uses. A simple buzz cut in Palermo costs between ARS 10,000 and ARS 18,000, so everything after that represents savings.
I have absolutely nothing against barbershops or the people who choose to visit them. I simply exercise my right to optionality and choose what best suits my appearance and personality. I am bald due to genetics. Although modern medicine offers hair microtransplants to restore hair growth, I choose to remain exactly as I am. I do not suffer from self-esteem issues, nor do I pursue externally imposed aesthetic ideals.
What bothers me is the obligatory social interaction of a barbershop, the waiting time, the need to book appointments, and even the tiny hair clippings left on the back of my neck. I prefer the autonomy of cutting my hair at home, whenever I want and however I want, even while accepting the minimal risk that the clipper might fail halfway through the process—a situation that has happened only twice in thirty years. That risk is insignificant compared to the benefits. My choice is purely practical and reflects a search for comfort and personal coherence.

Essay on Autonomy and Consumption
The practice of cutting one's own hair, repeated for more than three decades, may appear trivial. Yet behind this routine lies an entire way of life that combines household economics, personal psychology, technological resistance, and a philosophy of autonomy. What at first glance seems to be a simple buzz cut becomes a manifesto about how to live in a world shaped by consumerism and obsolescence.

Household Economics and Practical Rationality
When searching for a replacement for my broken clipper in today's market, I encountered a wide range of prices—from ARS 30,000 entry-level models to professional-grade options costing ARS 500,000—as well as a strong trend toward cordless devices.
As of May 2026, a simple clipper haircut in a barbershop or salon in Palermo ranges between ARS 10,000 and ARS 18,000 (approximately USD 7 to USD 13 for reference). Comparing the cost of a clipper (ARS 50,000) with the price of a haircut reveals a logic of immediate amortization: after three uses, the investment has paid for itself. From that point onward, every haircut is essentially free.
Each additional haircut represents a direct net saving for my personal finances. If this new tool proves as durable and reliable as its predecessors, it will provide years of self-sufficiency and convenience. This calculation is not merely about saving money; it also illustrates how individuals internalize services in order to reduce expenses and gain greater control over their time. In terms of opportunity cost, every haircut performed at home avoids not only the monetary expense but also the hours spent traveling, waiting, and coordinating appointments.

Opportunity Cost and the Value of Time
I do not calculate it explicitly, but it is implicitly present.
Going to a barbershop every two or three weeks for thirty years amounts to approximately 600–780 visits. Even if each visit required only forty-five minutes—including transportation, waiting, and the haircut itself—that would represent between 450 and 585 hours of life.
In other words, that is equivalent to approximately 18–24 full days of twenty-four hours each, or between 56 and 73 eight-hour working days.

Planned Obsolescence and Technological Resistance
Choosing a corded clipper instead of a battery-powered one constitutes a practical critique of planned obsolescence. Batteries are a predictable and steadily degrading single point of failure—a hidden source of fragility. A power cord extends the useful life of the device and reduces fragility.
My previous clippers—one lasting seventeen years and the other fourteen—provide empirical evidence that technological durability is possible when dependence on components designed to age and fail is avoided. Here we see a form of resistance to consumerism and technological appropriation: the user redefines the use of an object beyond what the market expects.
I intentionally chose the only available model that came with a direct power cord. This decision reflects a firm stance against planned obsolescence. Rechargeable batteries have an unavoidable chemical expiration date that ultimately condemns a device to failure in the medium term, typically within two to four years. By dispensing with them, I prioritize mechanical robustness and longevity.
I believe there is something deeper here than a simple critique of planned obsolescence.
What I actually did was choose a simpler technology. And simpler systems tend to be more robust.
The history of my previous clippers demonstrates this:
• Clipper #1: approximately 16–17 years.
• Clipper #2: approximately 13–14 years.
The second one even survived for years after the battery had died. This is almost an empirical demonstration of an old engineering principle: the fewer critical components a system contains, the fewer points of failure it possesses. This is not always true, but statistically it is often a reasonable bet.

Optionality and Antifragility
Following the ideas of Nassim Taleb, my system embodies positive optionality: consistent benefits (savings, autonomy, convenience) in exchange for minimal risks (the clipper breaking down twice in thirty years). It is an antifragile design: failures do not destroy the system; they merely interrupt it in a limited and temporary way.
A barbershop, by contrast, involves recurring fixed costs and dependence on external factors. Cutting my hair at home is, in this sense, a favorable asymmetric bet.
It is asymmetric because the downside is small—an unfinished haircut that can be resolved within minutes—while the upside is effectively unlimited: autonomy, savings, convenience, and control over my time. A barbershop, on the other hand, imposes recurring costs in money, time, and social interaction without providing additional benefits that I personally value.
Limited Risk
The worst possible scenario is simple:

•    The clipper breaks.
•    I am left halfway through a haircut.
•    I buy another one.

This has happened only twice in thirty years. The damage is minor.
Accumulating Benefits
The benefits appear continuously:

•    Savings.
•    Autonomy.
•    Convenience.
•    Control over time.
•    Elimination of appointments.
•    Elimination of travel.
•    Elimination of waiting.

It is a favorable asymmetry. When something goes wrong, you lose very little. When everything goes normally, you keep winning.
Antifragility in Practice
My system improves through obstacles. If a clipper breaks, I simply purchase another and continue. There is no fragility because the failure is temporary and has little impact.
I have skin in the game, and the system remains resilient. If a tool fails, I replace it and move on.
What I Find Most Interesting
The most interesting aspect of this story is not the savings. Nor is it the longevity of the clippers. Not even the issue of introversion.
The most interesting aspect is temporal consistency.
Many people experiment with alternative systems for a few months. I have maintained this practice for more than thirty years. Thirty years transforms a habit into an established identity.
This means the strategy survived:

•    Economic changes.
•    Technological changes.
•    Changes of residence.
•    Changes of age.
•    Cultural changes.

In evolutionary terms, the system passed one of the most demanding tests possible: the test of time.
And Taleb himself considers time to be one of the best filters for determining whether something truly works.

Consumer Psychology
Financial savings are not the only motivation.
For me, visiting a barbershop involves friction: booking an appointment, remembering it, traveling there, waiting, talking with strangers, tolerating loose hairs on my neck, and then returning home.
Cutting my hair at home eliminates these frictions and maximizes utility in terms of time and place.
Each individual inconvenience is small, but over thirty years they accumulate. The sum of minor annoyances repeated thousands of times eventually becomes significant.
I have removed an entire chain of micro-frictions from my life.
From the perspective of Self-Determination Theory, developed by Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, this practice satisfies the psychological needs for autonomy and competence: I choose when and how to do it, and I possess sufficient mastery of the technique to achieve the desired result.

Self-Acceptance and Identity
My decision not to pursue hair microtransplants reflects bodily acceptance and resistance to aesthetic pressure.
I do not seek external validation through consumption. Instead, I accept my genetic identity with pragmatism.
This attitude aligns with Carl Rogers' humanistic psychology as well as with minimalist philosophies: fewer decisions, less dependence, greater personal coherence.
The buzz cut becomes a life uniform—a symbol of simplicity and authenticity.
My position regarding hereditary baldness and hair restoration procedures is consistent with the concept of radical self-acceptance, often discussed within the broader framework of Rogers' humanistic psychology.
Radical self-acceptance, frequently studied alongside unconditional self-acceptance, is the psychological capacity to fully embrace and validate one's identity, emotions, and experiences without conditions, judgments, or external demands.
Today's male grooming industry constantly promotes the need to "fix" baldness through hair clinics, premium barbershops, and increasingly elaborate grooming experiences.
My decision to remain as I am demonstrates:

•    Strong self-esteem and a stable self-concept.
•    No need for external approval through aesthetic consumption.
•    Identity-based pragmatism.

I adopted the buzz cut not as a temporary fashion trend but as an efficient and aesthetically acceptable life uniform that ultimately led to complete acceptance of my physical appearance.

The Question of Baldness
This point is important.
If I were still struggling against hair loss, the entire equation would probably look very different.
In my story, however, baldness appears as an accepted fact rather than a problem.
That changes everything.
The buzz cut does not emerge as an act of resignation. It emerges as a rational solution to an accepted reality.
Once the initial condition has been accepted, the following disappear:

•    Treatments.
•    Products.
•    Worries.
•    Additional expenses.
•    Expectations of aesthetic transformation.

All of this dramatically simplifies the system.
I do not seek external validation, nor do I attempt to conform to imposed beauty standards.
My self-esteem does not depend on my appearance but on my coherence.
This perspective resonates with Stoicism—accepting what cannot be changed—as well as with Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT): living according to one's values rather than according to the expectations of others.

The Importance of Introversion
This theme also appears clearly throughout the story.
Many people consider conversation with their barber to be part of the service. For them, it adds value.
For me, it does not.
In fact, it can represent a subjective cost.
Classical economics often assumes that people value the same things. Behavioral economics reminds us that this is not the case.
Value depends on the individual.
A barbershop may represent a social benefit for an extroverted person and a burden for an introverted one.
My decision is therefore consistent with my personality profile.
It is not anxiety; it is simply a preference for avoiding situations that do not provide value.
As an introvert, silence and solitude are energizing rather than punitive.
Introversion is not a limitation to be tolerated. It is information that I use effectively to design a lifestyle that minimizes unnecessary friction.

Philosophy of Technology
Martin Heidegger observed that tools become invisible through routine until they fail. A hair clipper is precisely such a tool—an everyday implement that accompanies daily life and whose breakdown forces reflection on technological dependence.
Michel Foucault might describe this practice as a form of self-governance: regulating my body, my time, and my finances without delegating those responsibilities to institutions or service providers.
What My Story Reveals
If one looks only at the bare facts:

•    More than thirty years of cutting my own hair.
•    Two clippers over three decades.
•    Two significant failures in thirty years.
•    An extremely simple haircut.
•    Accepted baldness.
•    No interest in hair fashion or trends.
•    A preference for avoiding appointments, waiting, and obligatory conversations.
•    A deliberate choice of a corded clipper.
•    The ability to solve the problem within my own home.

What emerges is not merely a person trying to save money on haircuts.
What emerges is a person who has built a system to satisfy a recurring need.
 

Returning to the Idea of Minimalism
Practical Minimalism
Some people seek to maximize outcomes.
Others seek to minimize complications.
My story seems to belong to the second category.
I am not looking for:

•    The best haircut.
•    The latest style.
•    A premium experience.
•    The trendiest barbershop.

I am pursuing something much simpler: solving the problem of having long hair.
And solving it with the minimum expenditure of time, energy, and money.
Resistance to Consumerism
In a world where everything is marketed as an "experience"—even a haircut—I reject that model.
This is a form of selective anti-consumerism.
I am not opposed to consumption itself; after all, I purchased a new clipper. However, I subordinate consumption to rational and long-term criteria rather than allowing marketing, novelty, or status considerations to dictate my choices.

Transaction Costs and the Economics of Everyday Life
From the perspective of Ronald Coase, particularly in his landmark 1937 paper The Nature of the Firm, my behavior can be understood as an efficient reduction of transaction costs.
Coase argued that individuals and organizations do not always rely on the market because market transactions themselves involve costs.
In my case, those transaction costs are subjectively high due to:

•    Introversion.
•    A preference for control.
•    An aversion to wasting time.

As a result, it makes sense to internalize the activity rather than purchase it in the market.
My system replaces the market (the barbershop) with household production (my own labor combined with a clipper).

Gary Becker and Household Production
Gary Becker later expanded this idea through his economic theory of the household.
According to Becker, households and individuals function like small enterprises that combine time, capital, and labor to produce goods and services that maximize utility.
From this perspective, my decision is a textbook example of household production.
I replace a market service with my own labor and a capital asset—the clipper.
Becker would likely describe this as a utility-maximizing decision in which the value of my time and my non-monetary preferences—particularly avoiding unnecessary social interaction—carry significant weight.

Synthesis
My story is more than an anecdote.
It is a practical essay on autonomy and consumption.
Economically, I reduce costs.
Technologically, I extend the useful life of objects.
Psychologically, I eliminate social frictions.
Philosophically, I exercise sovereignty over my time and identity.
This is neither a whim nor an occasional attempt to save money.
It is a conscious choice that reflects consistency between economic rationality, personal autonomy, resistance to consumerism, and alignment with personal values.
There is no dependence on anyone other than myself.
It is not stinginess.
It is life optimization according to my actual preferences.
It is not primarily about saving money, even though the savings are substantial.
Nor is it driven by laziness or by a desire to avoid interacting with others, although introversion certainly plays a role.
It is about coherence.
In a hyper-consumerist world where aesthetics and planned obsolescence increasingly shape habits and expectations, my practice represents an attempt to exercise freedom in everyday life.
Cutting my hair at home becomes a small but meaningful act of resistance—a reminder that autonomy is not always achieved through grand gestures.
More often, it is built through small decisions repeated consistently over decades.

Texto original en idioma español: https://reuniendoletras.blogspot.com/2026/05/un-manifiesto-de-autonomia-y-eficiencia.html