While she's the first to call her father an extremist, she's come to admire his devoted economical lifestyle. There's something authentic and appealing about living on less. And yet, she says, in the lexicon of frugality, the term cheap has been hijacked and dirtied. In short, it's gotten a raw deal.
In her new book
In Cheap We Trust: The Story of a Misunderstood American
Virtue 
"After all," she writes on page three, "When we as a nation and as individuals are so dangerously overleveraged...why is it an insult to be called cheap?"
In the sobering wake of the economic crash (not to mention soaring credit card debt), it seems highly appropriate to revisit, and resurrect, the notion of living with less. And Weber believes that the desire to do so springs as much from a concern from the quality of our lives as it does from our bills.
"I think a lot of people are uneasy about our consumer society," says Weber. "They're not sure this is how they want to live—whether it's keeping up with the joneses or always aspiring to the next newer, better thing. More of us are wondering if this lifestyle is as spiritually or emotionally satisfying as it could be."
But that doesn't change the fact that the idea of being a tightwad is culturally unappealing. "A lot of people hate the word cheap and would be embarrassed to be described that way," says Weber.
Part of elevating cheap to its proper place means embracing what she calls a kind of "ethical cheapness," or cheap with a conscience—which, she says, can help us become more sustainable—and perhaps more satisfied in the process.
