Gear Acquisition Syndrome (G.A.S.)

Ian Miller
Aug 19
2 min read

Gear Acquisition Syndrome (G.A.S.) is the creative’s paradox: the compulsive desire to acquire more tools—cameras, guitars, lenses, synthesizers, software—under the belief that the next piece of gear will unlock new levels of artistry. It’s part thrill, part illusion, and often a distraction from the deeper work of mastery and meaning.

🎛️ What Is G.A.S.?

Originally coined as Guitar Acquisition Syndrome by Steely Dan’s Walter Becker in a 1996 article, the term quickly expanded to encompass all creative gear. Whether you're a photographer, musician, filmmaker, or designer, G.A.S. manifests as:

Endless browsing: Forums, reviews, YouTube demos—your tabs multiply like rabbits.
Justification loops: “This lens will help me shoot low light,” “That pedal will finally give me my sound.”
Emotional highs and lows: The rush of buying, followed by guilt, doubt, or disappointment.
Neglect of existing tools: Your current gear gathers dust while the new toy takes center stage.

🧠 Why It Happens

G.A.S. isn’t just consumerism—it’s psychological:

Perfectionism: The belief that better gear equals better results.
Comparison: Seeing others’ setups and feeling inadequate.
Stagnation: Mistaking boredom or creative block for gear limitations.
Marketing pressure: New releases are designed to trigger FOMO.

🧘‍♂️ How to Manage G.A.S.

Here are some grounded strategies to keep your creative practice intentional:

Strategy	Description
Use what you have	Relearn your current gear. Push its limits.
Create constraints	Limit yourself to one lens, one mic, one tool.
Change your environment	Shift your subject, location, or framing—not your gear.
Set a gear budget	Allocate funds annually, not impulsively.
Ask: Will this deepen my practice?	If not, it’s probably a distraction.

🧭 Reframing the Narrative

G.A.S. can be a signal—not of need, but of yearning. What are you really craving? More control? More inspiration? More connection to your work?

Sometimes, the answer isn’t in the gear—it’s in the story you’re trying to tell.

Would you like help crafting a “No G.A.S.” manifesto for your workshops or visual essays? I could also help design a timeline showing how creative tools evolved alongside artistic restraint.