In Praise of Particle Board

Particle board is the material of choice for cheap furniture. Venture into a dorm or bachelor pad and you will likely find particle board products. It is the lowest form of wood, lower even than plywood (which at least has substantial ruggedness to recommend its otherwise unattractive appearance). Particle board has only its cheapness, and that it wears a veneer well.

Like many people I was inclined to look down on PB. It displaces real, beautiful wood, and the kind of crap easily made with PB displaces real carpenters. Beholding a wooden stool made with good craftsmanship and good materials is a glory.

I was raised in this cult of quality. Now I am reconsidering whether I judged the its foe too harshly. PB is made mostly out of waste product. That's why it is so cheap. Isn't there a quiet dignity in reclaiming what the quest for greatness discards? And isn't there something truthful about a material that really wears its economization on its laminate sleeve? There is no aura to the thing made of PB; it is undisguised simulacra. It might imitate a granite counter top or a cherry cabinet (with the help of a more attractive sheath) but once you commit to PB rather than the real thing you have given up the social capital game. The question becomes not: what do others think of this and of me as a result? but: what do I think about the appearance of this thing. Because if you scratch the surface, it's right there. There is no fetish value there, it's just there there. No symbolic filler, just literal filler. I feel deeply related to this subpar material, recuperated from the ashbin of authenticity, that is worthless inside but effective on the surface.