Do you keep your receipts in case you might need to return something? Do you collect the buttons that come with new clothing, in case you need a replacement? Do you always carry something with you in preparation for what could happen?
This tacit and innate behaviour is what I call just in case—a momentary act of when someone decides to “do” something, because it may be useful to them. By doing so, this brings them a sense of reassurance.
My experimental book Just in case, documents how this behaviour physically manifests in the lives of multiple people. A dog-eared page of a book, the mark left on our wrist from the presence of a hair tie, or habitually doing something multiple times “just in case”—these subtle behaviours demonstrate what triggers us to use this phrase, what we do in response, and the special ways and reasons why we possess and interact with an object. There is never a wrong reason; it is one’s personal reasoning that reveals the idiosyncratic and meaningful experiences of just in case.’