WITH A LACK OF CLARITY OR CONSENSUS FROM WORLD LEADERS AT COP26 IN GLASGOW, HAVE WE FORGOTTEN THAT WE AS CONSUMERS HOLD A HUGE AMOUNT OF POWER TO EFFECT CHANGE?
Writer and Environmental Psychologist Veronica Simpson shares a shift in her consumer habits we could all perhaps explore.
I used to feel embarrassed if I left a shop empty handed. I look at these words now and marvel. Not a big store – a Primark or a department store. There I might feel slightly disappointed if I didn’t see anything I wanted because, back in the day, the reasoning went that if it only cost a few pounds, why wouldn’t you snap up anything you liked the look of? The cost was so minimal, or so we thought. Now we are thinking of a greater cost – the cost to the planet, or to our human ecosystems in terms of how we value what other people do and how they live in order to make us a t-shirt that costs only £3. No, the shops I’d feel guilty leaving empty handed were smaller shops, boutiques, independent shops, where someone has carefully curated something they think should speak to you, attract you. And they had done their work well if their window lured you in there; you might also have engaged or been engaged by the owner in conversation. You might have fingered the fine clothes, caressed the objects, and even tried something on. I would regularly feel guilty if I hadn’t bought something as I left. Like I had somehow broken a code, the unwritten code of the consumer.
But now I don’t walk into a shop thinking ‘I will find something amazing in here and it will make me happy.’ I still love clothes, I still love fine things. But I have spent two long lockdowns and the months in between living at close quarters with the things I have and thinking about so much of what is wrong with the way we live that has brought us to this point (mindless travel, mindless consumption, the shipping of people and things here there and everywhere in order for someone somewhere, some big corporation, to gain profits/advantage), and I know that I have enough. I don’t NEED anything – beyond food, warmth, shelter, companionship. I have everything I need.
So I walk into shops now with that thought uppermost, and what usually happens is that I see something that I like but it reminds me of something that I already have. And when I stop to think about it, I realise the thing that I already have is nicer than this. I look at the price tag, and I think it’s great that I don’t feel the need to buy this. I have saved money and reminded myself what abundance is already in my life.
This is a real departure for me - this experience of leaving a shop empty handed and feeling lucky. Is this idea strange to you? But isn’t this awareness of the choices we make as consumers the only way forward? We may need designers to think about the impact of what they do on the planet, but ultimately they are inspired/driven/required to make new stuff. It’s in their job description. We can hope that they make better stuff, that it will last longer, that it will be designed so that it can be easily repaired, and I love that this was the narrative of Helsinki Design Week in 2021. But we all need to do our bit, to play our part as consumers. We must cultivate this consciousness of need versus want. I still buy things – of course I do. If I find something beautiful that answers a need – say, candles made sustainably, that I can light when I cook a nice meal for family or friends, or to give to someone as a present - especially if sold by a small independent business or made by an artisan. if I can afford it, I will buy it. But I also favour second hand and charity shops, liking the idea that I might find something lovely that someone else has discarded, and give it a new lease of life. Shopping for me is now more about a way of sharing abundance, of showing appreciation for the value of things, whether hand crafted or handed on.
The transition wasn’t instantaneous by any means. It has taken three or four years perhaps of slow, evolutionary shifts in my attitudes and habits. It took three or four years of really close observation to train myself out of thinking that if I wasn’t happy, some THING would make me happy, would answer that hunger. I spent those years still going into shops and looking for that thing but perhaps looking more carefully, more closely, more intelligently, and not finding the thing. Then I might leave the shop feeling mildly frustrated that I hadn’t found an instant mood booster. And now, as I say, I feel blessed, when I leave empty handed. And that is because I have learned to detach myself from those impulses that are so good at driving us to seek short-term fixes.
What has helped this transition? It has taken maybe five years of making sure I make time for more meditative and absorbing and nourishing experiences in my life – going for walks in nature, doing yoga, meditating, reading books rather than watching TV, spending time with friends. And what really made the difference is spending the last two years studying Buddhist philosophy, as part of a yoga teacher training course. Every week, for three hours a week, for two years, and in the reading time between, I have been learning about this ANCIENT wisdom that holds the secret to stillness, to contentment, to a rich and absorbing life. And one of the most important aspects of that ease and contentment is detaching ourselves from the endless cycle of wanting, of seeing that short term dissatisfaction for what it is – just a distraction.
Unfortunately, the architecture of our digital lives is designed to give us anything but peace from distractions. These distractions have been honed and fine tuned – with each transaction on social media, on our streaming choices – improving the skills of the service providers and the algorithmic experts to know how to activate our triggers (whether we seek the thrill of fear and tension through murder mysteries on TV or the thrill of endless newness/reinvention through clothes and stuff) to the point that we don’t even realise we’re being triggered. By being more conscious of our own needs and learning to distinguish when other people are cleverly manipulating our sensations of insecurity – which instantly leads to the idea that there is something out there that we need or ‘want’ - we gain wisdom, peace of mind, and a lower carbon footprint.
We have a choice. We just need to make the effort to exercise it, and to see that where we place our attention has consequences. Not just for us, but the whole planet.