“By the end of 2021, there will be 4 billion people in the global consumer class, and, in the absence of another major economic crisis, the global consumer class will reach 5.2 billion people by 2030.” -Wolfgang Fengler and Max Heinze, BROOKINGS
Like no other socioeconomic system, consumerism platforms an abominable amalgamation of greed and gluttony; a structure designed to raise want over need, slapping on an unreasonable price tag while doing so. Sparking in the early 20th century, consumerism as we know it was brought about by the blending of fully industrialized economies, widely available mass media, and international means of travel. The coalescence of these elements created a system of seemingly infinite product supply, ever-reaching advertisement, and rapid delivery. Specifically, the consumer identity was cultivated around the 1920s—as stated by The MIT Press Reader, “The notion of human beings as consumers first took shape before World War I,” but prior to that, there was, “Little economic motive for increased consumption among the mass of people.” The societal shift from relative frugality to opulent materialism was heralded after the revelation that, for many Western nations, the bulk of their GDP wasn’t from production or natural resources, but consumer spending (Britannica). They didn’t need to make anything, bustling nations just needed people to buy something.
Therein lies the problem with consumerism: the focus isn’t on producing anything. Worse still, it’s arguably not even about owning anything. Consumerism is just about buying. That’s it. No if ands or buts. It never is, was, or will be anything grander than that. In 2023’s fourth quarter alone, consumer spending made up ~68% of the US’ GDP (U.S. Bank). The boat is being held afloat by Etsy and Amazon. Does nobody else think it’s maybe a little crazy that the entire economic architecture of our nation is centered around spending? Not even procuring cash, just using it. With the introduction of chicaneries like crypto, NFTs, and Wall Street, we’ve proven America is more than willing to spend on things that aren’t actually real. It’s a deranged flavor of super consumerism, like buying the wrapping paper instead of the candy, hoping that the plastic will be just as good as the actual treat. How many of us are willing to fund an abstract concept that might have value at some point? Evidently quite a lot of people.
Honestly, consumerism is like a never ending, ever changing hat trick. Who knows what’s in the hat. Is it a bunny? Is it a million dollar mansion? Is it Darth Maul’s lightsaber? Is it Dogecoin? It doesn’t matter; people are going to buy no matter what because it’s from the magic hat and nobody knows what it could be or what will come next. The new and shiny mystique of the product line is enough to sustain a consumer base. Nothing of value can be produced because what even is value anymore? What is desirability in a system designed to produce attractive products as efficiently and rapidly as possible? The American people are like mass farmed cattle, stuck in our claustrophobic pens, buying whatever malarky comes down the feeding tube as corporate farm hands milk us to death, reaping every tattered bill they can grab, a task condoned by the Federal owners of this undying money farm. Perhaps that’s the worst part of our dystopian world: the system is working. Profits are magnanimous, the nation is sustaining itself. Even if we could devise another way of living, why would we choose it over consumerism? Delicacy after delicacy, convenience after convenience, progress keeps marching forward toward the next profit goal. We’re in a gambler’s economy, sure, but the returns are always just enough to keep the populace docile and complacent enough to keep buying. Never before has humanity fostered a system so aptly attuned to our individual hungers and yearnings. By the will of some disheveled pride telling us we deserve and need all this crap, we’ve allowed ourselves to depreciate from humans to consumers, subverting the beauty of our individual distinctions. Instead of highlighting our differences for the sake of better understanding and societal growth, consumerism uses our variance as a marketing asset. In the market’s eyes, you’re not a person, just a profile of things you might want to buy. The solution? There is none. No level of defiance can stop this buttered up profit train, not as long as people can make this much money; there isn’t a “no thank you” in the face of this monolithic super mall, only a different product with a different price tag.