| World,
Materialism, Consumerism
February
19th, 2003
WWW.GLOBALAWARE.ORG
Consumerism:
Great Temptations:
The Trap of Materialism and How to Escape
By Dr. LESLIE JERMYN.
A Conundrum
We all know we live in a highly materialistic culture in which conspicuous
consumption governs much of our lives. We strive to acquire goods which
will define us to ourselves and to others and somehow satisfy our human
need to justify existence. At the end of the day, we also all know that
there’s a trap built into the system: the more you consume, the
more you are pressed to consume more because whatever satisfaction possession
of things brings us is always fleeting thus driving us further and further
down the material path of life seeking nirvana around the next corner
at the mall.
Many modern philosophers have pondered this question, often giving rise
to scathing critiques of consumerism as shallow; the product of a decadent
and decaying culture. This is where most people turn away, not because
they reject what the philosophers say, but precisely because they know
it to be at least partially accurate and this is unbearable. It’s
unbearable because while we know the meaning of life can’t be reduced
to a new SUV, we don’t know what on earth we would replace consumerism
with if we were to abandon it as the bedrock of our daily lives. What
would we do with our time? Why would we work overtime? Why would we get
up in the morning?
I don’t propose here to rehash the arguments about why consumerism
is evil, but I would like to examine the issue taking a longer view of
history and through that, propose some solutions to the conundrum of modern
living: how to find satisfaction through consuming differently and thoughtfully.
The Long View
We have been around as a species for about 100,000 years. For most of
our brief existence on Planet Earth, we have lived in foraging societies.
Without agriculture or animal husbandry, most of our ancestors lived by
hunting, gathering and fishing for food on a daily basis and moving periodically
when local resources ran low. This high degree of mobility prevented most
foragers from accumulating possessions since everything would, sooner
rather than later, have to be moved to a new location using only humans
as pack animals. As any backpacker knows, after a few weeks of hauling
one’s things around, one loses interest in accumulating more weight
to bear.
Usually this synopsis is the justification for the non-materialism and
rough social equality of so-called ‘primitive’ societies.
However, there are some ethnographic cases that suggest that our ancestors
were not averse to accumulating things, but they did it quite differently.
Along the northwest coast of North America, people foraged but due to
the abundance of fish and shellfish, they were able to live in semi-permanent
villages, moving only twice a year between summer and winter residences.
These residences were constructed as permanent shelters and thus could
house possessions beyond the necessary and be decorated with totem poles
– hardly mobile accoutrements. What has always been notable to anthropologists
is that these groups developed very complex social systems complete with
status distinctions based on control of property. Some groups also practiced
the potlatch, a ritual gifting among nobles to establish rank and prestige.
The idea behind the potlatch is that the more generous you are, that is
to say the more you give away, the greater your status. This practice
was outlawed by the Canadian government in 1921 as wasteful and abhorrent
to Protestant values of thrift and steady accumulation.
The Khoisan peoples of the Kalahari in southern Africa are often held
up as the quintessential mobile foragers who possess little and have an
enviably egalitarian social structure. This was highlighted in the movie,
The Gods Must Be Crazy, in which the hero, Ki, finds a Coke bottle dropped
from an airplane and brings it back to the group. The fact that there
is only one bottle and it is indivisible causes such social tension that
Ki is prompted to remove the offensive possession to restore social harmony.
While it is true that accumulation on the scale seen in the northwest
coast was impossible for Kalahari nomads, they did have a notion of personal
possession and the value of ownership. Bead and shell necklaces were their
prized possessions. Social networks between bands were established and
maintained through the exchange of these things. Significantly, like with
the example above, giving conferred more social recognition than keeping
or owning because only by continually giving away could one participate
in the social networks critical to survival in this harsh environment.
So, at both ends of the foraging spectrum there was the idea of possession,
of specially valued objects, and of exchange and display of these objects
as part of the social system. From that point of view then, one is hard-pressed
to simply condemn modern consumption as shallow, wasteful or base. In
desiring objects that our culture teaches us are beautiful or valuable,
we are being true to our 100,000 year heritage as humans.
So What’s the Problem?
The problem seems to be that we have lost touch with one vital element
of the wonders of possession and consumption: that the way we exchange
things confers meaning to owning them. We’re good at accumulating
but we’ve forgotten that without some attention to human relations,
accumulating for its own sake is an empty practice. Where did we get lost
in the last 100 millennia?
I think we dropped the ball when we began to have access to unlimited
things made by faceless strangers and available to anyone with the cash
to pay for them. In other words, the combination of the industrial revolution
and global trade has made accumulation an empty act. Unlike our foraging
ancestors who valued objects because of the social relations they embodied,
the history of exchange and ownership they represented, we view objects
as empty, ahistorical and endlessly replicable. One VCR is about the same
as the next plus or minus a few bells and whistles or a few dollars. When
we stand in front of store displays, we don’t think about who made
those things and when we take them home from the store, we don’t
imagine ourselves to have entered a special relationship with the producers
or the sales clerk who attended us. The object itself is the sole reason
for acquiring it. Of course, we still display objects as markers of status
and we hope that these displays make up for all the hard work that went
into accumulation, but beyond that symbolic power, objects are totally
dehumanized.
Waste and the Gerbil Wheel
The absence of a human element, of a sense of connection through owning
a particular object, leads us to waste at an unprecedented rate. We throw
things away rather than repair them. We give our passé clothing
and housewares to charity or sell them dirt cheap at yard sales. We trade
in old cars and take built-in obsolescence for granted. We couldn’t
do any of this if we imagined that every object embodied somebody’s
hard work or if we knew ourselves to be somehow responsible to that person
through the connection established by the thing we owned. Imagine knowing
everyone personally who made everything in your house. It would be like
having a house full of Christmas gifts from favoured relatives that just
can’t be thrown away lest offence is taken at the next family visit.
The dehumanized object presents another core dilemma. Because one VCR
is the same as the next and because it’s not special the way that
handknitted sweater from your great aunt is special, it’s also not
satisfying. You bring it home, finally divest it of multiple layers of
packaging, set it up and a few days or if you’re lucky, weeks, later,
the little frisson of joy you felt in purchasing it is completely evaporated
leaving a hollowness in its place. That hollow place demands attention
and so you move on to the next ‘must-have-or-I-won’t-be-happy’
thing. But the new DVD will pose the same problem and so on you will go,
consuming and wasting and never feeling quite satisfied. We are like caged
gerbils, forever running on our wheels without ever getting anywhere.
The combination of waste and hyper-consumption is a problem in modern
times. It’s a problem because the environment can’t cope with
the quantity of resources we’re using and toxic waste we’re
producing, and it’s a social problem because the system depends
on abusively cheap labour and results in unsupportable inequalities. Very
few of us will ever feel that we have ‘enough’ and most of
us on the planet will forever feel like beggars living in a bag of gold
that we cannot touch. This is a lethal combination that results in localized
and international violence everyday. People in Sierra Leone stare at their
mutilated bodies while the perpetrators fund their atrocities with diamonds;
diamonds that then grace the whole bodies of consumers thousands of miles
away. Environmentalists warn that millions of discarded cellphones are
becoming a hazard because of the toxins used to produce them. We support
government measures to ‘crack down on crime’ but not those
that will even the playing field thus reducing the number of people who
see crime as their only means to access the goods many take for granted.
And on it goes. Modern consumption is not sustainable environmentally
or socially.
Some Ideas for Change
So, what do we do with this most human trait – the desire to possess
nice things – that will give us more satisfaction and reduce the
environmental and social burden all at the same time? It’s a tall
order but I think there exist alternatives that aren’t as unpalatable
and perhaps unrealistic as simply abandoning consumption as a bad idea.
1. Value what you have
The first step is to look around your space and start to appreciate the
sheer number of labour-hours that are invested in the things that you
already own. Imagine having to make them yourself and then begin to appreciate
how hard somebody somewhere worked so that you don’t have to. You
may decide to rid yourself of so much social weight and responsibility
but do so in a thoughtful manner. If your waste could be useful to someone
in need, make sure they get it even if it means an inconvenient trip to
drop it off. Make the effort to ensure that what you consume or what you
choose to dispose of is shown the respect it deserves as a product of
a real person’s hard work.
2. Repair and Reuse
We are so well-trained to dispose that we’ve forgotten that repair
and recycling is an option. If your clock radio breaks down, take it to
a repair shop. It will likely cost you less than a new one, but even if
the price is the same, you are saving the world the cost of producing
a whole new radio, not to mention disposing of the old one, and, as an
added bonus, you are supporting someone trying to run a small environmentally
sound business. It all adds up to feeling good about the choice.
Clothes and furniture are often wasted because they are stylistically
out of date. One could argue endlessly that style is a shallow concern,
but I think we need to respect that we are social beings and we are concerned
with what others think of our sense of personal flare or ‘style.’
Having said that, outdated things are not necessarily destined for the
garbage bin or charity drop-off. One can update things with minor effort
and thus avoid waste. Recovering, painting, stripping, and finding alternative
uses are all ways to keep furniture going past the ‘best before’
date. Clothes can be altered and dyed. Using your creativity will do far
more to reflect your personal flare than buying the new living room suite
from Ikea or the latest outfit from the Gap. If you begin to commit to
your purchases over the long term, you will also find yourself steering
clear of soon-to-be-passé fads and buying things you are likely
to appreciate longer.
3. Shop Alternatively
Next time you need something or just want something new, think about the
many alternatives ways that you can shop.
To begin with, think about buying used, vintage or antique items. Most
major cities can boast of multiple venues for such things ranging from
the bargain basement thrift shop to top of the line antique dealers. If
you need a garden variety household or clothing item, chances are you
can get it cheap at a thrift shop or trade-in/consignment centre. If you
want something a bit special, consider your local antique store or show
or vintage clothing shop. Beautiful hand-made things are available for
prices comparable to those you would pay for an equivalent item today.
These things have the added social advantage that they are steeped in
human history and human relations. They are also not easily replicable,
all of which adds to their value in all senses of the term. Bringing home
a 1950s ball gown will be far more satisfactory than picking one of hundred
similar dresses off the rack, I guarantee it. If you can go one step further
and commit to altering and repairing, the bargains available are unlimited
and the satisfaction of consumption guaranteed.
For perishables and consumables, things that we use up, think about patronizing
small businesses and producers rather than large chains and middlemen.
If you make it to a farmer’s market, do it. If there’s a local
butcher, go there for your meat. Wherever possible, make the act of buying
what you need a social one. Go to the same shops regularly so that you
become friendly with the owners. This adds a personal element to our daily
lives which most of us are sorely in need of and invests the act of shopping
with meaning. By making shopping meaningful and even pleasurable, we also
enjoy consuming what we bought more. It’s still the same can of
peas or tube of toothepaste, but we at least know who we bought it from
and had a pleasant chat at no extra cost.
In terms of the relations of production of things, consider buying fair
trade. These products are certified as produced in socially humane ways
and part of the price supports community development in producing areas.
They often come with descriptions of who made them and how. While you
are unlikely to meet all the producers of all the things you consume,
fair trade allows you to feel that you know something about them and have
invested in their future. If no one in your neighbourhood carries fair
trade products, ask them to. Be warned, fair trade is not usually a cheaper
alternative but as the name suggests, it is fair trade – producers
are paid a living wage for their work and that is a powerful motivator
to pay a bit more.
4. Think before you buy
This is an oldie but goodie and deserves re-examination.
We are bombarded with advertisements for things we must have or else…
What’s interesting is that since about the 1920s, advertisers realized
that simply informing us about the product wasn’t half as effective
as suggesting directly or subtly that their product would confer some
existential element of happiness to our otherwise mundane lives. Thus
started associations like cars + underdressed women = masculinity, soap
+ diligent housekeeping = ideal mother and wife, and a whole host of other
equally ridiculous falsehoods. A car will not make you a man and using
the right detergent does not prove you love your family. The warning in
this lesson is plain: don’t buy something because they’ve
suggested to you that it will make you cool or slim or popular or sexy
or happy. The simple fact is that ‘it’ won’t, only you
can make yourself be these things.
In line with the great con of advertising, we are daily conned into working
like dogs to earn the money to possess things, the maintenance and shelter
for which demand that we continue to work like dogs. Over the years, I
have noted that I make the most impulse buys when I’m working long
hours at a job I don’t like. Upon examination, I realized that I
was rewarding myself for working so hard with presents. They provided
the usual few hours of delight and relief from boredom and frustration
but didn’t save me from having to return to work the next day and
punish myself anew. To boot, I then had less cash or a bigger debt than
before thus necessitating my continuing drudgery. If this is you, idling
around the mall on a sunny Sunday or lugging home shopping bags after
work every Friday, think about why you’re shopping and whether something
else might be more effective in solving your problem. It would be unrealistic
to suggest that we can all do work we love all the time but think hard
about what you’re paying for and whether your slavery is worth it.
Perhaps by living a simpler life you can do the job you love. Perhaps
by putting your impulse shopping money to a different use, you can more
permanently or profoundly relieve your boredom or stress. One thing is
certain, that fleeting delight is fleeting whereas the problem remains.
Think about it.
Now we turn to the typical anti-consumerism quip: consume less. This is
easier said than done since shopping has become a passion in our culture
and consumption is our auto-response to almost any situation. But it can
be accomplished with a few simple tricks. To begin with, return to #1
in this list. Once you start to appreciate how much you already have,
it gets easier to resist accumulating more. If you find the impulse does
not lessen no matter how much you stare at your overstuffed wardrobe or
storage space filled with things you don’t use, then force yourself
to delay shopping gratification by making it contingent on some other
accomplishment. For example, you could be allowed to buy a new kitchen
appliance only once you have fished out all the ones you never use and
given them to charity. Likewise with clothing and anything else we tend
to accumulate in ridiculous amounts. Or, you might only allow yourself
to buy when you’ve learned a new skill or spent time with your family
or done anything positive that itself does not involve buying stuff. You
might also penalize yourself for not using what you buy by having to give
the amount spent to a good cause. This will soon condition you to think
long and hard before buying just because you can.
If none of the above worked and you find yourself standing in the store,
credit card dancing in your pocket in anticipation, then take a moment
to think about what you’re about to do. You are going to spend hard-won
money to buy something that a million or ten million other people have
already bought. This thing will not make you better and it won’t
even demonstrate your imagination or creativity – quite the reverse
in fact. In all likelihood, unless you are following #3 assiduously, you
will be contributing to a vast system of labour abuse, much of which involves
children, and further adding to our embarrassing consumption and waste
statistics. All the products that went into producing the thing you are
going to buy had to be produced somewhere using environmentally unsound
mining, agricultural or industrial practices. There is no escaping this
reality in today’s world. If you still must have that new shiny
bauble, whatever it may be, say a prayer for the planet and commit to
using it, repairing it, recycling it and bearing the responsibility for
it forever. That ought to cause you to pause at least for a moment…
The Great Temptation
Consuming for its own sake is indeed a great temptation, but like all
others it can be overcome. This doesn’t require a twelve-step program
to wean us permanently from the habit, afterall it’s only human.
It does require that we acknowledge what makes having things satisfying:
social relations with other people. If we recognize our links to others
through the products they make and we consume, and if we assume the responsibility
that comes with that recognition, we can consume less, consume differently
and garner much more satisfaction from the act. We need to ignore the
spin doctors and their promises of eternal happiness or salvation and
realize that we are the authors of our own happiness and that happiness
cannot be branded, packaged or sold by the pound. Step down from the gerbil
wheel and take a moment to think about it.
Copyright: Dr. Leslie Jermyn. Please contact the author before reproducing
this article.
leslie@globalaware.org
info@globalaware.org
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