Set out wanting to understand pipe values, keep at it long enough, and you end up with an insight into human nature.
People are forever trying to create the appearance of rationality in why one pipe sells for so much more than another one. But in the end, the assumption that pipe values must have some rational basis is an article of faith -- an assumption that has to be discarded as unfounded in experience. Pipe prices are irrational because people are irrational.
Start with what Herman Lane knew (and Alfred Dunhill before him) : people love to spend money. It makes them happy. And the more money they've spent on something, the happier it makes them. Spending money is intoxicating. The connexion of splurging with joy is direct and unmediated. Reason only enters into the picture afterward as an attempt to rationalise it.
In 1986, the average cost of a new car was $9,255.00. The average yearly income was $22,400.00
In 1986, Herman Lane offered the world a Charatan pipe he stamped "Crown Achievement" for $10,000.00
He sold it.
There will always be somebody gullible ? Look around at the prices people are paying for Bo Nordhs. And Chonowichs. And Ivarssons. And rare Dunhills. And high end Castellos. The "crazy" end of the market is impervious to recession. Any time one well-heeled collector dies or has to bail out, his treasures are snapped up by his peers and the posh pipes market marches on without missing a beat.
When you tell people who have spent their lives analysing every question into variables they can play with (as they've been taught to) that the key variable in pipe values is an intangible, inexpressible in rational terms, it annoys them. But there it is.
Buying pipes follows an ages-old human script. Whether it's bushmen planning an antelope hunt, criminals planning to rob a bank or BoBs stalking pipes, there is planning the exploit, the execution and -- widely overlooked in plain sight -- what criminologist Stanton Samenow called "The Celebration After the Crime." As members of a War Party did returning from a successful exploit, the drama is reenacted for the village at large, the way local TV stations recap the highlights of baseball games the home team has won.
(And does anybody really need more than maybe 20 pipes anyway ? We're all Bozos on this bus).
There is no fundamental difference between acquiring a Bo Nordh and a Family era Barling or a hard-to-find Peterson or even on a No Name for less than its design, briar and workmanship warrant as "a smoker." Joy is joy.
And they lived happily ever after ? Here's where it gets interesting. Ideally, that new (to you) nicest example of the biggest Name you could afford turns out to be a thrill and a delight in use. When it does, the world is a beautiful place, is it not ? But when that first Dunhill turns out to be disappointing, does the guy who bought it swear off chasing "better" pipes and go back to accumulating Stanwells with his lesson learned ? Or does the pursuit of happiness take him to Castello ? Or to Rad Davis ? Or does he have somebody competent fix its mis-drilling and keep accumulating Duhills because they are, after all, Dunhills ?
What I think is really happening is this : We project our desire and intent into something like a pipe. Fixate them on it. Then we buy it to get that mannah we projected into it back again. Or, if we fail, suffer the agony of it being un-recoverable.
Now this is the REALLY crazy part -- and the final nail in the coffin of rationality : understanding the above has no effect on it. After years of philosophically contenting myself with timed, tuned & re-stemmed (possibly an oxymoron but a reality nonetheless) "high-end blue collars," finding retirement a tad more comfortable than I had feared, there is a brand new Sasquatch here now, and a Lane-era Charatan Selected "Extra Large (i.e., normal size) Made by Hand" billiard in the mail. I has met the enemy, and he is me too.
It's an illness . . .
:face: