Selling Points that Don’t Sell Me: Spec Snobbery

If I were to make a gross oversimplification of watches, I’d say they are about three things: provenance, design and specs. The first two are relatively straightforward: Who made a watch, and what does it look like? There are endless rabbit holes to go down with each, and fellow enthusiasts welcome anyone looking to join the conversations. That’s good news for those of us that long ago lost the privilege to ramble about Hans Wilsdorf at the dinner table, and have a limited number of times we can say “concentric circles” before our non-watch friends tune out.

But in my initial years of collecting, I shied away from conversations of provenance and design, instead favoring talk of specs. Above all else, specs were what sold me. It’s a trend I’ve noticed fellow enthusiasts follow, which makes sense. Specs are tangible. They are indisputable facts on paper that immediately give an idea of how a watch will wear based on its dimensions, what its beat rate will be, how much abuse its crystal can take, and at what unnecessary depth of water it could out-live its wearer.

With some welcome influence from my favorite YouTube reviewers, it was easy as a new collector to discern what specs were considered acceptable by the larger enthusiast community. While we may never agree on which case diameter constitutes the ideal “sweet spot” (but we all know it’s 36-38mm) or what movement is best, one specification seemed to have near universal support in the comment sections: 200 meters of water resistance. For years, I happily rode the bandwagon of this robust cookie cutter spec. Afterall, watches aren’t free, and it’s hard to argue against the assurance of high water resistance. But today I’m going to try to do exactly that.

Setting the Bar

Water resistance is a bit of a mystical topic in the watch world. Before I was a self-declared enthusiast, I wore a 35mm analog quartz Casio with a resin strap, the ones that declare “water resist” directly on the dial. As a casual wearer with zero curiosity about the specific water resistance abilities of my $15 Casio, I took the dial’s word at face value. I wore my watch in the shower, while I washed dishes, and in the occasional hotel pool. Never once did moisture make its way into my watch, nor was I concerned about the possibility. 

But ignorance is bliss, and when I felt an enthusiast-driven desire to educate myself on water resistance, my research only muddied the waters. I learned that 3 ATM (atmosphere) is used interchangeably with 30 meters, the former referring specifically to “physical atmospheres,” an antiquated and less frequently used unit of measure for pressure. Both sound sufficiently hardy considering 30 meters is several times deeper than the average swimming pool. But then I read that 30 meters is only splashproof, and not suitable for any backyard pool. Digging more, I learned that 5 ATM/50 meters of water resistance is not recommended for scuba diving, despite the fact that 40 meters is the maximum depth for recreational divers. A glutton for punishment, I Googled 10 ATM, and was met with forum threads listing aquatic activities too extreme for even 100 meters of water resistance. Sorry jet skiers, the internet’s consensus is that you’ll need at least 200 meters of resistance.

The more I learned, the more fragile my watches seemed to feel. And so, like many of my fellow commenters on YouTube, I came to the conclusion that I should just set my expectation to 200 meters of water resistance for all future watch purchases. It was a threshold that felt safe, and with no shortage of brands offering it, it was easily achieved as a collector.

But after owning perhaps too many dive watches and missing out on their less-robust counterparts, I’ve come to the realization that the logic behind my self-imposed limitation had a major flaw: I’m not a scuba diver. Heck, I’m hardly a swimmer. Why did I care if a 50 meter watch was actually capable of 50 meters of water resistance? Setting any hard rules that limit what watches you experience is probably a bad idea and can only… well, limit you. And I’d set one heck of a limitation on my enthusiasm.

How Much is Enough?

Watches are often about pushing the limits. We are on a constant mission for the most extreme. We push for longer power reserves, higher beat rates, more complications, improved accuracy, and maximum thinness. Innovation is a good thing, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t enjoy the various races for the fastest, longest, lightest, and thinnest currently happening in the watch industry. But, when those races seep into general expectations, the consumer pays the price with limited options, and brands pay by being saddled with guidelines that dampen creativity.

It’s fun to poke fun at proportions of the comically large Rolex Sea Dweller. Rolex doesn’t care what I think, or if I buy one, so it’s all fun and games. But the lines start to blur when “regular” watches enter the race. I’m a huge fan of the Oris Aquis line and got a kick out of the 4000 meter Aquis Pro. And while I initially laughed at the 49.5mm case, part of me thought “Hey, it’s titanium, maybe I could actually wear this thing.” As a microbrand lover, when I look at the Nodus Sector Deep with 500 meters of water resistance and the 600 meter Core Divers from Ocean Crawler with approachable price tags and (somewhat) wearable dimensions, it’s tempting to think “why not?” when deciding how much water resistance to desire in a daily wearer.

Unnecessary water resistance is impressive, but sometimes a reminder of its true lack of necessity is grounding. I closed out 2023 by re-acquiring a Bulova Hack- a watch I’d previously sold after it felt too fragile, but purchased again with the  intention of beating the heck out of it. With a modest price tag and only 30 meters of water resistance, it was the perfect candidate to confront my spec snobbery. And, after a couple months of bathing the dog, jogging in the rain and even a dip in a hotel pool, my Hack is bone dry. While purely anecdotal, the versatility of this fairly un-robust watch has given me the confidence to look beyond specs, freeing myself to explore provenance, design and whatever else my heart desires.

Final Thoughts

Enthusiasm is personal. We all have individual reasons for collecting and changing opinions at our own pace. It would be naive of me to say “I stopped caring about specs and so should you.” But I will say this:

Brands know what the general expectations are. Choosing not to meet them is a conscious decision. Sure, sometimes that decision is motivated by profit margins. But as an expert, you can detect these things from a mile away. And that leaves non-cookie cutter watches made for the right reasons -made to challenge the norms because a fellow enthusiast had a vision and took a risk. Personally, with one more snobby blinder removed, seeking out those watches has served as a beacon for creativity that I’d previously been missing out on.

When the Christopher Ward C1 Moonphase came out with an in-house module that accurately displays the moonphare for 128 years, it was met with a fair amount of criticism for its “mere” 3 ATM water resistance, including from myself. Looking back, I missed an opportunity to celebrate a brand pushing the industry forward. I’m currently playing catch up by geeking out over the Union Terminal from Cincinnati Watch Co, housed in a new old stock (circa 1960) case that bluntly advertises “no water resistance.” And, I’m excited to finally dip my toes into vintage, a segment of collecting where a lack of obsession with water resistance opens up a whole new horological world.

So, what’s next? As I keep my eyes out for what I’ve missed, I’m focused on keeping purchases in check. Finding the balance between enthusiasm and consumerism is the next topic in the Selling Points series, a perfect test for this collector that suddenly has new vast areas of watches to discover.