on consumerism

Summary: The paradigm of consumerism, how you found yourself to be living in it, and why you should exit.

Christmas Eve 1997:

As I lay awake in bed, my mind is racing. “What will it feel like? … What games will I play? … I wonder if my best friend is also getting a Sony PlayStation? … Probably not, he never gets good stuff.” I was thrilled to be me that night. I was complete.

Christmas Morning 1997:

As I walk into the living room, I see massive pyramids of perfectly wrapped presents awaiting my sisters and I. I’ve officially arrived at the most important moment of my 7-year-old life. God damn it’s a lovely sight. My parents must have spent all night wrapping and stacking these presents up perfectly. (I know Santa’s not real. I found some unused tags in my parents’ room that read “from Santa.” Who would give up a good thing though? I’ll play along. I’m a believer.).

By now I know the routine. As I go from being a kid without a Sony PlayStation to a kid with a Sony PlayStation there will of course be pictures taken. Important moments like these are meant to be treasured … Like the time I walked my first step, my first day of school, or my eventual graduation. I’ll even pretend to really like the stuff I didn’t enumerate on my list. After presents, we’ll visit my Grandma’s where I’ll mostly talk to my cousins about how well we each did for ourselves.

“Okay. You can start opening now!”

“Thank Christ,” I say to myself as a photo snaps.

Stocking stuffers, let’s see… Matchbox cars, bubbles—oh, a Slinkee. I guess I’ll need something to play with during the loading screens. Snap.

This went on for about another 30 minutes.

As my presents started to dwindle, my anxiety began to accelerate. Where is it? It can’t be any of those, they’re too small. Let’s see what’s in here – fuckin’ clothes?! Snap. This is getting to be ridiculous. What did I do to deserve this? I acted like a good boy all year for this day. Sure I had some hiccups, but who doesn’t?

Last present… A kite. Snap.

I can’t believe this. I’m already dreading the moment I hear about my cousins’ new Sony PlayStation and how they can’t wait to go home to play it.

I feel empty inside. I’m lacking at a fundamental level right now. I actually feel bad for myself.

Now I’m holding back tears while trying to be nice about the whole thing—told you I’m a good boy. Pretending to be happy, but I’m clearly not.

“Hey, what’s this?” As my dad pulls the couch away from the wall, a final mountain of presents magically appears before me. My fake smile just turned into a real one.

It was all there. The Sony PlayStation, Crash Bandicoot, Frogger, and even Final Fantasy VII, which I’ve read is “quite possibly the greatest game ever made.” Snap. Snap. Snap.

I’m complete again.

Consumption of things

Most of us were raised to be great consumers. If we didn’t learn it at home, we probably learned it in high school where we noticed all the kids with alligators on their polos were cooler than us.

At some point we began to identify with the things we consume. The clothes we wear, the car we drive, and the house we live in. We started to see these things as who we are.

Since our materialistic identities hinge upon what we have in comparison to others in proximity to us, in order to maintain our identities, we are constantly fighting a losing battle of needing more and newer bullshit. It’s a race to the bottom.

How many people do you know who own a wardrobe they once desired and now want a different one? How many people drive a car they once loved, but now crave a newer one?

This is, in a sense, an addiction.

We aren’t dreaming of becoming smarter, stronger, or more tranquil; we don’t want to be great leaders to those we care about most; we are dreaming of winning the lottery.

60% of all U.S. adults play the lottery every year.

At least 60% of us, at some point throughout the year, are investing money and time in fantasizing about what it would be like to win the lottery and become multi-millionaires.

Then when we lose, we go back to our shitty unthankful jobs that don’t serve us in any way beyond a paycheck.

Instead of yearning to become stronger men (in all meanings of the word) and building things of our own, we work our asses off for others while acting like good boys in order to buy the things we need to feel more complete.

As we grow into adulthood, we take on more debt to buy things we don’t need and can’t afford in order to impress people we don’t even like.

When we get married, our wives expect a ring worth over a month of our salary. They want a nice ring in order to show their friends they have a nice ring. Men in America pay $4,000 on average for their wife’s ring. Then when they divorce us and try to pawn the ring, they’re offered less than $500 for it because it has no intrinsic value. So instead, the jewelry shop offers them a credit toward the ring of their next marriage.

Yes, it’s women that expect the expensive ring. But they expect it because it’s what we do. Men get their wives expensive rings not only to buy their wife’s love, but also so they can feel justified in having a greater sense of self—instead of worse, than other men.

As a kid, I expected the gaming system that Christmas morning. I expected it because it’s what my parents did. My parents did it not only to buy my love, but also so they wouldn’t feel inferior to my aunt and uncle who would get my cousins their PlayStation.

Consumption of women

“A woman’s test in life is material. A man’s test in life is a woman. Men have nice cars--not because they like nice cars, but because they know women like nice cars.” – Dave Chappelle

As adult men, most of the conspicuous consumption in our lives fulfills the female imperative.

When we were kids we consumed because we learned having things makes us feel significant and loved. Most women never leave this paradigm. This is why they control 80% of household spending and need intrinsically worthless diamond rings in order to justify a marriage.

When a man gives his girl material things as an attempt to buy her love, he is no better than a parent trying to buy the love of his child. Just as you don’t need to give-in to societal pressures of raising your kids in the consumerism paradigm, you don’t have to give-in to societal pressures of enabling the false consumption needs of the girl(s) in your life.

As I’ve already said, men buy women expensive rings not only to buy love, but to have a greater identity than other men within the paradigm of consumerism; however, there’s another reason for this expense. Men also want their fiancé’s friends to be both jealous and impressed.

Most of the consumption adult men partake in is done to attract women. If men aren’t the end consumers of these products, what exactly is going on here?

While women and children's consumerism ends with the material thing itself, the same is not true of men.

Soylent Green is people

Men are consuming women.

Have you ever fantasized to yourself about what a big pimp you would be if you dated a certain girl or a certain type of girl? Have you ever felt less significant because another guy walked in with a 9 on his arm?

Ever felt a greater sense of self when a hot girl is giving you all of her attention? Do you notice a feeling of emptiness when that attention is taken away?

When this happens, you’re feeling no different than the way my 7-year-old self felt that Christmas morning, thinking I had lost the PlayStation that I never even had to begin with.

A game you cannot win

Within the consumerism paradigm, you will always want more, better, and newer. By now, you understand that tranquility cannot be found here.

Men are choosing careers they hate in order to attract women. Men are working a life-wasting amount of hours in order to attract women. Men are going out to bars, degrading their bodies and bank accounts while spending time around people they don’t even care about, in order to attract women.

What’s worse, the vast majority of these women are dysfunctional and ill-fit for real long-term use. This is like spending your life’s savings on a Lamborghini that has a million miles on it and irreparable insides, but a fresh paint job.

There are two methods of achieving a sense of abundance in life. Firstly, you could get more of that which you feel you’re lacking. This approach makes abundance not only tremendously difficult to obtain, but also impossible to maintain. The second approach to gaining abundance is to simply need less.

"It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor." - Seneca

Visit my blog On Consumerism for more.

Lessons Learned:

• Most of us were raised in and continue to reside in the consumerism paradigm, basing our self-worth off of what we have in relation to others.

• Within the paradigm of consumerism, consumption for women and children ends with material things, while consumption for men ends with women.

• The most effective and sustainable way to have abundance is to need less.