One of the books on my to-read-on-vacation list is Bill McKibben's Deep Economy. Truthfully, I don't know anything about economics, but the premise of this book is that we cannot continue to sustain an economy (and concomitant lifestyle) that requires constant and ever-increasing growth. Since wondering how we could do that is something that has long puzzled me, given my naive understanding of capitalism, I am intrigued. I've only read a few pages but one of the things McKibben says right off is that despite what almost everything our culture tells us, more is not better.
I thought of this when I read Corndog's comment about 57 channels and nothing on (and it could be 157 or 957 depending on your cable package). I thought about it when I was in the grocery store trying to choose from the eleventy-seven different kinds of orange juice Tropicana puts out now. And I thought about it when I read this article in today's NYTimes.
I know all things are relative, but as someone who will never make a million dollars in her ENTIRE lifetime, the idea that people can be worth several million and still feel like they don't have enough is a bit mind boggling, and well, troubling. A big part of the American dream has been having more--more than our parents, more than our neighbors, more than we had last year. The drive to have more has contributed to innovation and technology and education and my ability to lead the comfortable life that I have. But when is enough enough?
Of course there are times when more is better: For a person making minimum wage, more is definitely better. For a person just beginning a career, more is better. For a growing family, more may be better. But what is the breaking point? When do we get to that place where we have enough?
I pride myself on living a pretty simple life. I drive a small car, I don't own expensive jewelry or clothes, I don't have cable or even a TV; I don't want a big house (in fact, I was really happy in my 700 sq. ft. apt. in NYC). But I still fall into the same "more is better" trap. I already lust for another lens for my new camera, and a new computer for the Kid, and I often think "if I just made X more dollars a year, life would be so much easier." But would it? I'm not so sure.
Because I'm an idealist I long for a world where everyone has enough to live comfortably and everyone has equal access to things like education and health care. Achieving such a world would require a radical rethinking of what "enough" means, however. Despite some local grassroots efforts to live simpler and more sustainable lives, lives that don't depend on "more," I'm not sure we as a society are up for that challenge.
5 comments:
My husband spent two years living in the bush in Somalia Africa in the 1980s. He noticed at the time that the Bushmen were a contented bunch, until they saw something that they had not seen before (like his camera) and then they wanted. It occurred to him then (in his early 20s) that we are content until someone shows us something else we did not know about, but now we might acquire. It would take a tremendous amount of willpower to live REALLY simply in the face of constant and aggressive marketing campaigns designed to makes us question our contentment.
I picked up Deep Economy this summer too and am looking forward to reading it.
Great post!
It's always hard to confront my consumerism-- I like to think I live pretty simply, we have only one car, small house, we try to eat locally. But then I'll pass by some store or get a catalog and it becomes, "I want THAT! oooh and THAT! and THAT!" And I look at myself and think, "Who ARE you?!" It's a weird feeling.
I picked up that book too. I need to actually find time to read it before fall programing kicks in, otherwise...who knows when I'll get to it. Another is The Low Carbon Diet. I is full of worksheets and tips to reduce your carbon foot print by 5000 pounds in a month, and even to zero if want.
Been thinking about this ...
I've been on a similar journey, I'm divesting myself of "stuff" that I really don't need -- but the camera?
I think you want it so that you can be creative -- to join in that creative space with God, to paint light pictures. I don't see that as materialistic, but the desire for a tool.
Of course, that might be a really nice self-deception on my part, as I want a new lens too...
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