Who decides what we like?
- Nuno Margalha
- 6 days ago
- 11 min read
Queues form overnight to buy a plastic watch. Waiting lists stretch for years to acquire a steel sports watch. Thousands of people, in different cities and distinct cultures, end up wanting exactly the same object.
We tend to believe that first and foremost there is an identity—a personal taste, an aesthetic preference, a particular vision of watchmaking—and that the watches we choose are merely an expression of that identity. However, the opposite is often true. Encountering a unique object—an unexpected mechanism, an uncommon aesthetic, or a watch that doesn't conform to dominant preferences—can shift us to a distinct position within the world of collecting.
In this sense, it's not necessarily because we are different that we choose a different watch; often it is the different watch that ends up making us different.
The watchmaking industry likes to present each timepiece as a deeply personal choice. However, when we observe the collective behavior of the market, an uncomfortable question arises: to what extent are our choices truly our own?
Perhaps it's Jack Finney's fault. He was the one who imagined, in the novel The Body Snatchers , the unsettling idea of an organism capable of silently replacing human beings, preserving the bodies but erasing the individual minds.
Decades later, this story would return to the cinema in one of its most influential versions, Invasion of the Body Snatchers , whose screenplay was written by W.D. Richter — the same screenwriter who would later co-write the classic Big Trouble in Little China ( Jack Burton in the Clutches of the Mandarin ).
Within this narrative universe emerges one of the most persistent ideas in science fiction:
The idea of a single organism capable of controlling the minds of multiple individuals.
The bodies remain seemingly normal, but individual consciousness disappears, replaced by a collective intelligence.
This suggestion would be repeated countless times in film and television. Two relatively recent examples can be found in the episode "Auto Erotic Assimilation" from the series Rick and Morty and in the series Pluribus .
In all these stories, the same unsettling phenomenon occurs: the bodies remain individual, but the minds cease to be so.
Perhaps these stories aren't just about aliens. Perhaps they're about watch collectors. Perhaps they're all about you!
Chapter I
When minds cease to be individual.
There are science fiction stories that continually return to the same unsettling theme: the possibility of losing our individuality without anything, on the surface, seeming to have changed.
Three works explore this idea in a particularly clear way: the episode "Auto Erotic Assimilation" from the series Rick and Morty , the episode "Pluribus ," and the film Invasion of the Body Snatchers .
In the Rick and Morty episode, the entity called Unity simultaneously controls all the inhabitants of a planet. Each person retains their body, voice, and gestures, but they all share the same consciousness. What appears to be a society of individuals turns out to be a single mind distributed across multiple bodies.
The episode "Pluribus" explores a similar idea. An alien organism gradually infiltrates a human population until it creates a collective intelligence. Individuality slowly dissolves as individuals begin to function as parts of a larger system.
In Invasion of the Body Snatchers , perhaps the most celebrated example of this theme, the replacement occurs silently. Extraterrestrial organisms produce seemingly perfect human duplicates. The new bodies retain the appearance of the originals, but have lost what made them truly human: the autonomy of the mind.
The most unsettling aspect of these narratives is the normalcy with which they unfold. Cities continue to function, people continue to walk the streets, conversations continue to happen. What disappears is only individual consciousness.
These stories belong to the realm of science fiction, but the idea they explore is profoundly human: the tension between individuality and collectivity.
The question that runs through all these narratives is simple and disturbing at the same time:
What happens when many bodies begin to think as if they were just one?
Chapter II
The moment when everyone wants the same thing.
While in science fiction stories the collective mind emerges through an alien organism, in the real world it manifests itself in a much more subtle way.
No one directly controls us. There is no central entity governing our thoughts. Yet, from time to time, a curious phenomenon occurs: thousands of people come to desire exactly the same object.
In contemporary watchmaking, few events illustrate this phenomenon better than the launch of the Omega x Swatch MoonSwatch .
When the watch was unveiled in 2022, unexpected queues formed in front of Swatch stores in several cities around the world. People waited for hours—sometimes overnight—to purchase an item whose price and availability would not, at first glance, justify such mobilization.
The most interesting thing wasn't the watch's commercial success. It was the synchronization of desire.
Individuals who had never met, in different cities and distinct cultures, behaved in an extraordinarily similar way. The decision to buy seemed simultaneously personal and collective.
The same phenomenon occurs, in an even more lasting way, with Rolex . Certain models have become objects of global desire. Demand far exceeds supply, creating waiting lists and parallel markets.
In theory, each buyer makes their own choice. In practice, market behavior reveals a strong convergence.
Just like in science fiction stories, bodies remain individual. Each person believes they are acting according to their own taste. However, when observed together, behaviors reveal a surprisingly uniform collective pattern.
An alien organism isn't necessary to create a collective mind. Sometimes a shared desire is enough.
Chapter III
The formation of the collective mind
In science fiction narratives, the transformation occurs abruptly. At a certain point, individual consciousness disappears, and individuals begin to act as parts of a single organism. The process is dramatic, visible, and irreversible.
In reality, the mechanisms that produce collective behaviors are much more subtle.
Shared desire rarely originates from a single source. It forms through a network of mutually reinforcing influences: specialized press, social networks, collectors, celebrities, forums, and secondary markets. Each element amplifies the previous one, until an individual preference begins to acquire the force of a consensus.
Contemporary watchmaking provides numerous examples of this phenomenon. A specific model emerges, is discussed, photographed, shared, and commented on. In a short time, the object comes to occupy a central place in the collective conversation. What initially might have been just a personal choice transforms into a common reference.
At this point, a subtle shift occurs. The object's value no longer depends solely on its technical or aesthetic qualities. It also begins to depend on the collective perception that it is desirable.
The object becomes a sign.
Owning a particular watch is no longer just about appreciating a mechanism or a design. It means participating in a narrative shared by thousands of people who recognize the same symbol.
This process is not unique to watchmaking. It manifests itself in numerous cultural domains. However, in the world of mechanical watches, the dynamic becomes particularly visible because production is limited and the secondary market reacts quickly to fluctuations in collective desire.
In a way, the market is beginning to behave like an organism.
Individual decisions still exist, but the overall direction of the movement no longer depends on any one of them in isolation. An emerging logic arises, difficult to pinpoint, but clearly perceptible when observed on a global scale.
It is at this point that the metaphor of the collective mind ceases to seem merely a narrative device of science fiction and begins to reveal something about how human preferences are organized in society.
Chapter IV
The resistance of individuality
If stories about collective minds always feature protagonists who resist assimilation, the same is true in the world of watchmaking.
Beyond the previous examples, this pattern repeats itself in many other works of science fiction. In Star Trek: The Next Generation , for example, the Borg represent a completely collective civilization, against which some individuals fight to preserve the autonomy of their minds. In The Thing , an alien organism assimilates and imitates humans, leaving a small group of survivors unable to tell who remains human. In The Matrix , humanity lives imprisoned in a system controlled by machines, while a small group of awakened people tries to resist the domination of the central intelligence.
In all these stories, the same narrative structure is repeated: a system that tends towards total uniformity and a small number of individuals who preserve their own consciousness — and, with it, the possibility of choice.
These are individuals who continue to think for themselves while the rest of society begins to act in a uniform manner. In watchmaking, the figure that most closely resembles this position is that of the independent watchmaker.
Unlike large industrial structures, where aesthetic and technical decisions often result from collective processes—marketing teams, market research, dominant trends—the independent artist often works from a personal vision.
A watch designed by an author often displays signs of this uniqueness: unusual technical choices, hand-finished details, proportions that do not necessarily conform to dominant market trends.
The work becomes recognizable.
Among the examples frequently cited in this smaller universe are watchmakers such as Masahiro Kikuno , Dann Phimphrachanh , or Rexhep Rexhepi . In extremely limited productions, the watch ceases to be merely an industrial object and becomes the direct expression of a very personal technical and aesthetic vision, where each constructive decision reflects the identity of its creator.
This type of uniqueness is rare, precisely because the market tends to favor what has already proven desirable. Commercial success creates imitation; imitation creates trends; trends reinforce collective behavior.
The independent, therefore, occupies a paradoxical position. On the one hand, it represents the possibility of an individual voice in a system dominated by collective forces. On the other hand, when that voice becomes sufficiently influential, the market itself may end up assimilating it.
An aesthetic or technical innovation can quickly become a new norm.
Just like in science fiction stories, individual resistance is never definitive. It's merely a moment of unstable equilibrium between the singularity of an author and the powerful tendency of the collective to homogenize what it admires.
Chapter V
The collector's paradox
The watch collector almost always believes they are making deeply personal choices. A particular model may evoke a story, a specific aesthetic, or an affinity with a certain type of mechanism. The act of acquiring a watch often emerges as an affirmation of individuality.
However, when observing the phenomenon of collecting from a distance, a curious paradox emerges.
Many different collectors end up wanting exactly the same watches.
Specific models become shared reference objects. A particular chronograph, a steel sports watch, or a specific complication begins to appear repeatedly in distinct collections, spread across different countries and cultures. What seemed to be an individual choice reveals itself, in fact, to be part of a collective pattern.
The phenomenon subtly recalls the science fiction narratives that served as a starting point for this reflection — the Rick and Morty episode "Auto Erotic Assimilation ," the series "Pluribus, " or the film " Invasion of the Body Snatchers ."
In all these stories, individuals continue to believe that they are distinct, even when they already belong to a larger system.
The collector occupies precisely this paradoxical space: he seeks to distinguish himself through objects that many others desire in exactly the same way.
Chapter VI
When the collective mind creates value
If collective desire shapes preferences, it also shapes value.
In contemporary watchmaking, the value of a timepiece rarely depends solely on its technical qualities. Elements such as craftsmanship, mechanical complexity, or the history of manufacture remain important, but they do not, by themselves, explain the large differences in valuation between models.
There is another decisive factor: the intensity of the collective desire.
When a sufficiently large number of people begin to desire the same object, the market reacts in an almost organic way. Demand increases, supply becomes insufficient, and the value of the watch changes.
This mechanism has become particularly visible in recent years. Certain models reach unexpected prices on the secondary market, while others—technically similar—remain relatively stable.
Value then ceases to be merely a property of the object. It becomes a property of collective perception.
The collective mind begins to determine what has value.
Chapter VII
Because we desire what everyone else desires.
Desire rarely arises in isolation.
A large part of our preferences are formed through observation. We see what others appreciate, discuss, or seek. Gradually, these references become familiar, then desirable, and finally almost inevitable.
This process is so common that it often goes unnoticed.
A shared photograph, a complimentary article, a forum comment, or an unexpected appearance on an influential wrist can all contribute to creating a collective narrative around a particular watch. The repetition of these references creates a sense of consensus.
What initially was just one object among many gradually transforms into a central point of reference.
This phenomenon does not necessarily imply manipulation or deliberate strategy.
Often, it's simply the natural dynamic of human preferences. After all, we are herd animals, rarely lone wolves. Throughout history, our choices have almost always been influenced by the group we belong to—the tribe, the community, the social circle. What others value tends to acquire value for us as well.
This mechanism does not imply a lack of personality. On the contrary, it is part of how human beings learn and make decisions. Observing the behavior of others allows one to reduce risk: if many people choose the same object, the same style, or the same brand, the probability of that choice being considered correct seems to increase.
In watchmaking, as in many other fields, this phenomenon manifests itself in a particularly visible way. Certain models become objects of collective desire, not only for their technical or aesthetic qualities, but also because they come to symbolize belonging to a particular group of enthusiasts. Individual preference thus ends up being formed in an intermediate territory between personal taste and the subtle influence of the community.
Chapter VIII
The last individual
All stories about collective minds almost inevitably include a solitary figure: the individual who remains conscious when everyone else has already been assimilated.
This character continues to think autonomously while the rest of society moves in perfect synchronization.
Beyond the references already mentioned, the same idea appears in other works centered on a collective consciousness that dominates or assimilates individual bodies. In the Star Trek: Voyager series, the crew repeatedly confronts the Borg, a civilization organized as a single mind distributed across thousands of bodies. In the film The Faculty , an alien entity takes control of the people at a school, creating a network of hosts subordinate to a single intelligence. And in the Falling Skies series, humanity faces invaders who control human bodies through implanted devices.
In all these cases, the same narrative structure reappears: a central consciousness that multiplies through many bodies and a small number of individuals who remain outside this system. In watchmaking, this position also exists. It belongs to those who choose a watch not because it has become desirable, but because it corresponds to a personal affinity with a particular aesthetic, mechanics, or history. These are choices that do not necessarily seek collective recognition.
This type of decision is rare precisely because the cultural context favors convergence. The market amplifies trends, success breeds imitation, and repetition reinforces collective preference.
Maintaining a truly individual choice sometimes requires a small act of resistance.
The ambivalence between the loss of individuality that results from belonging to the group and the anguish of being separated from it generates enough tension to make the theme of global control one of the most persistent in cinema — and perhaps also one of the driving forces behind watchmaking.
The phrase "Ce n'est pas l'identité qui explique la différence, c'est la différence qui explique l'identité." (Identity does not explain difference; it is difference that explains identity) — Gilles Deleuze, Différence et répétition — proposes a subtle inversion of the usual way of thinking. We tend to believe that first there is an identity — a personality, a taste, a style — and that differences are merely external manifestations of that identity.
Deleuze suggests the opposite: it is difference that produces identity.
Applied to watchmaking, this means that it's not because we are different that we choose a different watch. Often, the opposite is true. It is the encounter with a unique object—an unexpected mechanism, an uncommon aesthetic, a watch that doesn't follow dominant preferences—that ultimately places us in a distinct position.
It is not identity that creates the difference in the clock. It is the different clock that, silently, makes us different.
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