Go Outside And Pick Up A Rock (Seeing Like An Affiliate Marketer Part 6)
I have claimed before that affiliate marketers have a habit of inventing problems where none exist in order to recommend products that might solve them. The problem of pasta sauce optimization was my main example: the practical benefits of identifying the best canned marinara sauce are minor, yet even minor problems present a potential vector for profit, and so affiliate marketers must make these minor problems major.
With The Inventory’s review of The Orijin Thinking Egg, I now see that affiliate marketers don’t just have a vested interest in inventing problems, but in ignoring all solutions that don’t rely on products.
The Orijin Thinking Egg is a small ceramic egg that you keep in your pocket. When you lose focus, you can grab a hold of it and use it as a physical reminder to get back to work. The problem that it seeks to solve, that of lost focus, is real. It is a problem that I, and many, suffer through. And, I can actually commend the Orijin Thinking Egg as a possible solution.
Why? Because I used to carry a medium-sized stone around with me to do something similar.
My stone served as a combination of a stress ball, a refocusing mechanism, and a Fidget Spinner. I appreciated its fine textures, and could squeeze it when I felt frustrated. The Inventory’s review of the Orijin Thinking Egg echoes these sentiments.
The difference, of course, is that we have yet to find a way to attach affiliate tracking links to random rocks outside, and neither Orijin nor The Inventory can profit off of them. The reason that The Orijin Thinking Egg baffles me so much is that, while it certainly could ameliorate this problem, one could just as well find a rusty washer, a rock, a small splinter of bamboo–whatever texture you prefer–and achieve a similar effect.
There are also other solutions to a lost train of thought. Recently, I have adopted a technique of refocusing on the breath when I have lost my train of thought, an idea I took from my mindfulness practice. A good breath, like a good rock, is never too far away.
The first generation of The Orijin Thinking Egg sold 100,000 units, and I believe that fans of the product do derive great benefit from it. Were this an article in The Inventory’s sister label, Lifehacker, and therefore an actual piece of journalism, the costless alternative to these eggs would surely come up. But The Inventory must convince its readership that this free alternative does not exist, and I am sure that, if we turned our mind towards other so-called solutions offered by consumerism, we would find many eggs that would be well replaced by stones.