World, Materialism, Consumerism Printer friendly version
February
19th, 2003
WWW.GLOBALAWARE.ORG
Consumerism:
Great Temptations:
The Trap of Materialism and How to Escape
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…
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.
© The Global Aware Cooperative and Dr. Leslie Jermyn. Reproduction requires permission of the copyright owner.
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