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We Can Be Materialistic and Sustainable Go Ahead, Be Materialistic. You Might Just Save the Planet.
(about 3 hours later)
An engraved jewelry box, Stevie Wonder’s “Songs in the Key of Life” on vinyl, a worn Quran whose margins are filled with poems written by my late grandfather, a monogrammed red leather wallet, a rare edition of James Baldwin’s “Price of the Ticket.”An engraved jewelry box, Stevie Wonder’s “Songs in the Key of Life” on vinyl, a worn Quran whose margins are filled with poems written by my late grandfather, a monogrammed red leather wallet, a rare edition of James Baldwin’s “Price of the Ticket.”
These are my most prized possessions. They encapsulate my short, full 20-odd years of life: curiosity, love, loss and the promise of what’s to come. They are each of great value, some by market appraisal, others only intrinsically. I have always loved things and the stories they tell. Even now, I take great care to invest in objects that are built to outlast me — things that will serve as a testament to my legacy, values and memories.These are my most prized possessions. They encapsulate my short, full 20-odd years of life: curiosity, love, loss and the promise of what’s to come. They are each of great value, some by market appraisal, others only intrinsically. I have always loved things and the stories they tell. Even now, I take great care to invest in objects that are built to outlast me — things that will serve as a testament to my legacy, values and memories.
I am, of course, not alone in this. Throughout history, in monasteries and museums alike, there has been a certain sanctity to stuff. The remnants of the crown of thorns believed to be worn by Jesus Christ, a 17th-century dining set belonging to William Shakespeare, the Koh-i-Noor diamond — these objects are repositories of meaning that preserve history and inspire awe.I am, of course, not alone in this. Throughout history, in monasteries and museums alike, there has been a certain sanctity to stuff. The remnants of the crown of thorns believed to be worn by Jesus Christ, a 17th-century dining set belonging to William Shakespeare, the Koh-i-Noor diamond — these objects are repositories of meaning that preserve history and inspire awe.
But for many Americans, the concept of a “prized possession” is rather dated — increasingly, people report valuing experiences over things, and millennials seem to be leading the charge. Millennials not only place a higher value on experiences, they are also increasingly spending time and money on them, from music festivals and foreign travel to cooking classes and scavenger hunts. Unlike in days past, when possessions often held the story of who people were, today that story is told on a server: Photos, music and love letters are stored on a distant cloud.But for many Americans, the concept of a “prized possession” is rather dated — increasingly, people report valuing experiences over things, and millennials seem to be leading the charge. Millennials not only place a higher value on experiences, they are also increasingly spending time and money on them, from music festivals and foreign travel to cooking classes and scavenger hunts. Unlike in days past, when possessions often held the story of who people were, today that story is told on a server: Photos, music and love letters are stored on a distant cloud.
Ironically, the mass devaluation of things has not caused us to buy less. On Black Friday this year, shoppers in the United States spent a record-breaking $7.4 billion in online sales, according to figures from Adobe Analytics. Cyber Monday also broke an e-commerce record: Shoppers spent a total of $9.4 billion in online sales.Ironically, the mass devaluation of things has not caused us to buy less. On Black Friday this year, shoppers in the United States spent a record-breaking $7.4 billion in online sales, according to figures from Adobe Analytics. Cyber Monday also broke an e-commerce record: Shoppers spent a total of $9.4 billion in online sales.
So it seems that we are buying more, but the things we buy hold less value for us. What happens when our possessions are relegated to objects of mere utility and efficiency, to fleeting signifiers of status?So it seems that we are buying more, but the things we buy hold less value for us. What happens when our possessions are relegated to objects of mere utility and efficiency, to fleeting signifiers of status?
For one, it becomes easier to discard them. In 2018 the World Bank reported that “without urgent action, global waste will increase by 70 percent on current levels by 2050.” In June, C40 Cities, a network of nearly 100 of the world’s biggest cities, released a report focusing on more than 700 million inhabitants’ consumption habits. It shows our collective desire for goods and services, including “food, clothing, aviation, electronics, construction and vehicles,” is responsible for 10 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions.For one, it becomes easier to discard them. In 2018 the World Bank reported that “without urgent action, global waste will increase by 70 percent on current levels by 2050.” In June, C40 Cities, a network of nearly 100 of the world’s biggest cities, released a report focusing on more than 700 million inhabitants’ consumption habits. It shows our collective desire for goods and services, including “food, clothing, aviation, electronics, construction and vehicles,” is responsible for 10 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions.
Rekindling our love of things may be the key to saving the planet. When we purchase things we value from both an ethical and sentimental standpoint, we are more likely to preserve them even when they are defunct or no longer in vogue. Building a culture of sustainability requires a level of collective satisfaction — to love what we have without the insatiable desire for more and to repair what we own without the convenience of casual abandonment.Rekindling our love of things may be the key to saving the planet. When we purchase things we value from both an ethical and sentimental standpoint, we are more likely to preserve them even when they are defunct or no longer in vogue. Building a culture of sustainability requires a level of collective satisfaction — to love what we have without the insatiable desire for more and to repair what we own without the convenience of casual abandonment.
Many believe the key to fighting the cycle of consumerism and waste is simply to buy less. On Black Friday, some Twitter users voiced their disdain for rampant consumerism under the hashtag #BuyNothingDay. Minimalism is also making a resurgence among millennials, who are not only more environmentally conscious but also do not have the extra income or living space to accumulate things.Many believe the key to fighting the cycle of consumerism and waste is simply to buy less. On Black Friday, some Twitter users voiced their disdain for rampant consumerism under the hashtag #BuyNothingDay. Minimalism is also making a resurgence among millennials, who are not only more environmentally conscious but also do not have the extra income or living space to accumulate things.
Though simply buying less seems an obvious solution to our crisis of consumerism, it simply doesn’t reflect our current reality. eMarketer has forecast that this year will mark the first-ever trillion-dollar holiday season for retail in the United States. And mass consumption remains a key indicator of economic growth, as measured by gross domestic product.Though simply buying less seems an obvious solution to our crisis of consumerism, it simply doesn’t reflect our current reality. eMarketer has forecast that this year will mark the first-ever trillion-dollar holiday season for retail in the United States. And mass consumption remains a key indicator of economic growth, as measured by gross domestic product.
What’s more, the accumulation of things is still at the essence of what it means to be American. Ownership of property and the gospel of prosperity are so deeply tied to our ideas of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” that few seem willing to renounce the materialism that lies at the core of our national identity.What’s more, the accumulation of things is still at the essence of what it means to be American. Ownership of property and the gospel of prosperity are so deeply tied to our ideas of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” that few seem willing to renounce the materialism that lies at the core of our national identity.
Still, the urgency of the climate crisis demands we reassess our relationship to things; we could begin by acknowledging how much they connect us to other people. By buying local products whenever possible, developing a culture of repair rather than disposal and rekindling a love of craftsmanship, we can buck an economic system that shuns longevity for profit and devalues workers in the process.Still, the urgency of the climate crisis demands we reassess our relationship to things; we could begin by acknowledging how much they connect us to other people. By buying local products whenever possible, developing a culture of repair rather than disposal and rekindling a love of craftsmanship, we can buck an economic system that shuns longevity for profit and devalues workers in the process.
When I graduated from college, my mother bought me a class ring — a tiny sapphire set in yellow gold engraved with my name and graduation year. At first, I discouraged her from purchasing it. I knew we could not afford it, and I was not very sentimental about my college years. But then she explained: “It’s not for you. It’s for your grandchildren.” All at once an object that had just seemed expensive became truly valuable, serving both as a testament to my past and as a promise for the future.When I graduated from college, my mother bought me a class ring — a tiny sapphire set in yellow gold engraved with my name and graduation year. At first, I discouraged her from purchasing it. I knew we could not afford it, and I was not very sentimental about my college years. But then she explained: “It’s not for you. It’s for your grandchildren.” All at once an object that had just seemed expensive became truly valuable, serving both as a testament to my past and as a promise for the future.
Our collective relationship to things says as much about our view of the future as it does our past. At times I imagine future generations — displaced by climate change and waging war over natural resources — coming across defunct iPhones and cheap T-shirts from the past. I fear they will not think much of our “love of experiences.” In fact, I imagine they will think we did not value much of anything at all.Our collective relationship to things says as much about our view of the future as it does our past. At times I imagine future generations — displaced by climate change and waging war over natural resources — coming across defunct iPhones and cheap T-shirts from the past. I fear they will not think much of our “love of experiences.” In fact, I imagine they will think we did not value much of anything at all.
But then the light catches my ring, reminding me of the promise I’ve made. I envision my granddaughter perhaps donning it on her wedding day — something blue, something new, something borrowed — as a promise of what’s to come. I believe that is a future worth buying into.But then the light catches my ring, reminding me of the promise I’ve made. I envision my granddaughter perhaps donning it on her wedding day — something blue, something new, something borrowed — as a promise of what’s to come. I believe that is a future worth buying into.
Bianca Brooks (@biancavivion) is a writer based in Harlem.Bianca Brooks (@biancavivion) is a writer based in Harlem.
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