I have a conflict-avoidant personality. I never lose my temper and I hardly ever engage in verbal jousting (never mind confrontational conversation). That’s why I wander around new car lots on Sundays. The dealership is closed, locked and silent; I can browse in pleasant solitude. Otherwise, conflict is inevitable. I can count on my fingers the number of times in my life that I got so angry my legs started shaking. Half of those instances occurred in car dealerships and that ain’t right.

During one of my first job interviews, the HR guy threw me a curve ball. How do you define quality? The question stopped me cold. I’d just read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, in which the main character went insane trying to answer that same question. I don’t remember what I said, but thus began a long-term intellectual exploration. I know this website has tried to define this seemingly nebulous term many times, but here’s what I’ve been thinking.

In the late ‘90s, a popular consumer magazine claimed a certain SUV rolled over easily. This study was strongly debated; I doubt anyone remembers who was right. But the damage was done. The vehicle fell out of favor into the one-way pit of corporate neglect. As the dust settled, I purchased a used example of this otherwise reliable, well-built machine at an exceptionally low price. After five virtually trouble-free years, I’ve decided to replace my ‘98 Isuzu Trooper with something newer. And so begins my hunt for undervalued quality.