THROUGH UNTRUE
When the Christmas season comes, many of us rummage stores, looking for the best and the cheapest. We behave like "consumptives."
In the past, pulmonary tuberculosis was called "consumption." Those afflicted by it were called "consumptives" because they gradually waste away, as though consumed or eaten alive by some demons inhabiting their bodies. Today, pulmonary tuberculosis appears to have been eradicated in many countries, but many of us still suffer from consumption. We are no longer consumptives, though. We are now called "consumers."
Come to think of it. Whenever we join the mad merry-go-round of shopping and bargain-hunting, we behave as though some demons have possessed us as we engage in an orgy of haggling and buying. Everything has become a commodity to be bought, sold, and eventually consumed. Many of us have become panic buyers and manic shoppers. One character in the movie "Fight Club" articulates well our predicament: "We buy things we don't need, with money we don't have, to impress people we don't like."
Tuberculosis has a cure. But present-day consumption, being largely psychological, appears incurable. In fact, it has been elevated into an ideology: consumerism. The capitalists, manufacturers, and market analysts are its prime movers; while the advertisers create the rubrics and rituals. Capitalism is no longer just interested in creating new products. It produces in us new desires, wants, and appetites.
Consumerism has made us believe that "more means better." We measure ourselves in terms of what we can buy. We no longer go for the person with impeccable reputation, moral rectitude, and high IQ. We prefer the person with a high credit limit. Expensive signature clothes and accessories have become the new status symbols. Brand fanatics have become walking billboards of famous designers and manufacturers.
Consumerism has developed in us a new kind of ethics that is focused on price, not value. Through advertising, what is worthless can appear expensive. What is truly valuable can be shown as utterly unimportant. Thus, realities, like love and commitment, which take time and effort to develop and nurture, take second place to those that produce instant gratification. We fail to realize that our desire for things that are easily disposable has created our monumental garbage problem.
Consumerism has become a religion without the element of transcendence. Among its avid advocates is the hedonist who thinks that since he only lives once, he can live dangerously and wastefully as long as he can afford it.
Thankfully, a positive development has begun to counteract the adverse effects of such rabid consumerism. Surprisingly, it was started by a new breed of entrepreneurs and corporations themselves. They want to establish a new value system governing businesses. One sterling example of this is Mary Portas. She devotes her time and effort to build a "Kindness Economy," an alternative to our prevailing business culture focused on profitability, utility, and the exploitation of people's tastes and desires. Portas wants those engaged in business to examine and appreciate the fundamental role they play in the fabric of our lives. Kindness Economy also aims to create a new breed of consumers who do not just buy things, but who promotes and patronizes businesses whose growth is fueled by kindness, care, respect and understanding of the human person.
Hopefully, this initiative will have a ripple effect in our country. We have to stop acting like consumers in a rat race, competing against one another in order to buy the best and the cheapest. Every time we do that, we are actually buying the rope to hang ourselves with.