Consumption: addictive and distracting. I found this random piece of wisdom in my notes app a few days ago and it got me thinking. Consumerism really is addictive and distracting, but how? And why now more than ever? Currently, around 60% of the world economy is entirely made up of the ‘stuff’ we buy every day and, going as far back as 1955, Victor Lebow observed that our current economy makes consumption into our “way of life” and as much as I hate to admit it, I think he was right, and we are seeing it now more than ever.
Consumerism, the more I thought, seems to characterise almost every aspect of our lives and how we view ourselves: our sense of identity has become defined, in many ways, by material objects, clothes and even how we look to understand other people—we could assume a lot from simply seeing the contents of someone’s bag. It seems this is something characteristic of this point in time, as, when speaking to older generations, consumerism seemed to manifest as something quite different. On speaking to my parents, and grandparents, it seems that people, on the whole had a lot less, but also desired a lot less. However, this did not seem to impinge on their ability to live or affect their happiness, in fact, I would go so far as to say things sounded better—on the consumption front at least. Once the basics were accounted for (which I know is a privilege that was and is absolutely not afforded to everyone) people did not appear to possess the same level of desire observable in today’ society to amass more…’stuff’. Using the data found in Susenas 2000 and and Susenas 2015, which found, through analysing various consumption categories, that Millennial household’s do, indeed, have very different consumption patterns from previous generations. One of the most striking differences was found in goods and services expenditure, with that of Millennials bearing a much larger share at 11.4%—approximately nineteen times more than the previous generation of 0.6%. What this shift can be credited to exactly is a big question, one that will take more than just this article; however, I would like to explore a few ways it can be interpreted
This drive to consume, like many other societal trends and phenomena, cannot be taken as an isolated incident. Rather, there seem to be larger forces at play to account for such a widespread phenomenon. Our relationship to consumption in certain instances and among certain individuals can be likened to some forms of behavioural addiction. To look at this more closely I used the work of Bruce Alexander and his ‘Dislocation Theory of Addiction’. He argues that the free-market economics that has come to characterise today’s modern world lends itself to addiction. It goes beyond an economic system and has permeated the way we view our relationships and place in the world. To be maximally effective and efficient in this system, it is best for people to become individualistic in a way that is only possible when they are no longer obliged to traditional loyalties of families, friends, customs, religion and so on. A by-product of this, then, is what Alexander termed a state of ‘dislocation’ –a lack of necessary psychosocial integration between our need for social belonging and individual autonomy that develops through our lives. A failure or lack of such integration has become the general condition of Western civilization’s free-market society. The ideal situation for free-market society inevitably creates a “universal dislocation”, as in this state people are more susceptible to the ‘pushing’ from corporations to systematically encourage “addictive consumptions in their customers and addictive work habits in their employees.” Thus, it seems this system and the corporations within it are responsible for pushing “the most common addictive habits of our times.” Capitalism, it can be argued, manufactures addiction, as it not only creates destabilising environments, through things like uncertain employment, but also becomes adept at intensifying, often addictive, methods of stress relief such as drugs and alcohol as well as normalising, and even encouraging, more undetected forms such as shopping addictions.
Naturally, humans, the ‘plastic’ creatures we are, respond to environmental changes in a myriad of ways. Addictions, Alexander argues, is a way some people have adapted to this sustained dislocation, this feeling of social exclusion and uncertainty of one’s place in the world. Addictive habits function as a “meagre substitute” for those lacking in this necessary social integration—a seeming epidemic in today’s individualised world. Alexander suggests shopping addictions could imply a certain lack of richer purpose in life, while similarly more admissible forms of addiction, such as co-dependent relationships, substitute for a network of healthy relationships.
I hope one can see the relevance of such an analysis on understanding the place consumerism has come to occupy in today’s world. I do not wish, necessarily, to suggest that we must now all be considered full-blown addicts due to the way we consume, however, I do wish to draw attention to this shift and the factors involved in creating it. It could also be considered merely a change in our mean levels of consumption in conjunction with a shift, also, in mean levels of our capacity for attention as identified by Katherine Hayles . While we may not all be addicts, we are increasingly craving short-term stimulation, understandably, as a result of the hyper stimulus of screen-based digital technologies, as well as this distractibility potentially serving to help us cope with our changing environment.
Thus, it becomes clear that to pin down this apparent shift towards mass consumption in our society, there are many factors at work, but it does seem reducible to today’s society and its current structure—dictated by notions of maximising profit and efficiency which has come to characterise our everyday lives. While, of course, there are huge environmental ramifications to these levels of consumption, I think, as this discussion demonstrates, there is a deeper issue at hand. It is something I recognise in myself: I know I am guilty of looking to escape through looking for the next thing to buy instead of, perhaps, writing that uni essay or getting whatever else I need to get done. I am also guilty of the never-ending ‘carrot-chasing’, seeking satisfaction in buying something even though I know this is not, ultimately, where I am really going to find it. It seems that people are seeking, through shopping, or other addictive habits, to fulfil basic human needs, such as connection, happiness, fulfilment and so on. And it is understandable— it is easy, one click away even, however, ease should rarely be our ultimate goal. While we may hate to admit it, genuine happiness for us comes from real, often messy, connections, with our families, friends and pursuing the (sometimes frustrating) things we love and deriving our sense of place in the world from this. There is nothing wrong with harmlessly giving into treating yourself to something new once in a while so long as we are aware and are not trying to find ultimate happiness through these things because, I hate to say it, we will not find it there. The parcel arriving and the excited unboxing may spark something in you, but we all know this is only fleeting.
In a world selling us fulfilment through consuming and positioning us in the world as consumers, it is no wonder we find ourselves stuck in these patterns and we now see consumption reaching the level that it has. However, I simply wish to remind us all that we are more than a consumer and we ourselves have so much to offer and discover that may, to our surprise, make us feel just as good, even better than that package arriving at your door…