Consumerism
R. Altschuler and N. Regush
The dominant message found in all the corporate ads is BUY, BUY, BUY. The collective impact of this message has had its effects over the past fifty years of intimately linking our most basic needs to consumer items and channelling all our energies into the marketplace.
Henry Ford, who introduced the Model T in 1909, probably would have died of a stroke if he had looked into a crystal ball and seen the May, 1973 issue of Playboy, which featured a pictorial on sex and the automobile. In the photo-spread we see a woman, apparently in ecstasy, stroking a steering wheel. The editors of Playboy seem to think that the automobile was primarily invented to get sex off the porch swing and on to wheels. Possibly so, but Ford basically wanted to produce effort-saving and practical cars for ordinary people like himself. Even if the first car on the road did more than just revolutionize transportation, Playboy shows us that in our modern world people driving thier "babies" don't always need human beings to love. We might also add that if Cotton Mather, a true spirit of Orthodox Protestantism, who viewed business as a vital calling and a part of religion, had foreseen the future development of huge religious amusement parks he probably would not have been so eager to sprinkle holy water on economic success.
The early American was continuously blasted by the aphorisms, verses, lectures, or fables of the great apostles of individualism. Benjamin Franklin, for example, spent much of his life talking about his rise from obscurity to affluence. One must add Ralph Waldo Emerson to this group, as well as Phineas T. Barnum. Both praised the virtues of material success.
Perhaps more than anyone else, Horatio Alger is responsible for the American rags to riches saga. In his 135 books, he always portrayed his hero as someone who achieved success through his diligence, honesty, perseverance, and thrift. If you worked hard and saved your money you succeeded.
Despite the ideology of the self-made man, the last decade of the nineteenth century, and certainly the early years of the twentieth were increasingly difficult times for American culture. The growing American corporations appeared to be slowly changing the criteria for personal success. Henry Ford was able to maintain a commanding lead over his competitors by simply offering his customers the fundamental assurance that his cars would get them to their destination and back. After the basic mechanical features of the automobile became more reliable and production problems were overcome, the consumer needed an innovative jab. In 1927, when General Motors introduced the LaSalle, the first "styled" car, Ford lost his number-one position. Henry wanted back in and came out with his restyled Model A. We all know what has happened since.
As corporate development mushroomed, the consumer increasingly became a passive observer of the technological process, but at the same time he also became more of a challenge for the producers' selling imagination. In 1900 there wasn't any American magazine with a circulation approaching a million. By 1947 there were at least forty-eight. Readers Digest, with a circulation of over 9 1/2 million in 1951, along with its competitors bombarded readers with incentives to work harder and harder in order to buy more and more goods. The work-to-buy ethic was being generously instilled into the American consciousness. The Gospel of Success was being democratized. This essentially meant that since everyone was being sold on the illusion that opportunity for success was equal, everyone was fair game.
Vance Packard was not the first to attack the Great Success Story. When The Hidden Persuaders was published in 1957, however, public attention was more aroused than ever. Packard heavily documented his argument that two-thirds of America's largest advertisers had geared their campaigns to a depth approach, using strategies inspired by what was called motivation analysis. Consumers were seen as bundles of daydreams with hidden yearnings, guilt complexes, and irrational emotional blockages. Using research techniques that were designed to reach the subconscious mind, it was hoped that advertising would mass-produce customers for the Corporations just as he Corporations mass-produced products. Packard tells of a scene from Lorraine Hansberry's Broadway play, A Raisin in The Sun, in which the son, a reflection of modern ideas, cries out, "I want so many things, it drives me crazy ... Money is life!" The task of the motivation man was to carefully sort out what drove this young man crazy and package the solutions into pretty bottles and boxes. Packard raised very disturbing questions about the kind of society these manipulators were creating through their ability to contact millions of people through the mass media. He questioned the morality of playing upon hidden weaknesses and frailties such as anxieties, aggressive feelings, dread of nonconformity, and infantile hang-ups to sell products. And he questioned the morality of manipulating small children even before they reached the age when they were legally responsible for their actions. Packard also severely criticized social scientists: He claimed that having found the study of irrationality very lucrative, they were flying out of ivory towers hoping to land big booty with the new marketeers.
David Riesman, author of The Lonely Crowd, described the emerging consumer as "other-directed", as one who gauged everything he did in terms of the expectations of other people. Riesman claimed that the other-directed type reflected the rapidly increasing consumption mania. Fromm echoed this interpretation saying, "Human relations are essentially those of alienated automatons, each basing his security on staying close to the herd, and not being different in thought, feeling or action. While everybody tries to be as close as possible to the rest, everybody remains utterly alone, pervaded by a deep sense of insecurity, anxiety and guilt which always results when human separateness cannot be overcome." Thorstein Veblen, critic of the conspicuous consumption of the American noveau riche of the late nineteenth century, pointed out that the mass-circulation newspapers, films, radio, the rise of mass political parties, and the special interests of advertisers all anaesthetized the masses with what he called laughing gas. And Herbert Marcuse describes the media-dominated modern citizen as having a "happy consciousness". Happy consciousness enabled a person to see his own behaviour as steadily progressive, always coming closer to the cherished good life. The glorification and perpetuation of the corporate state had become a built-in condition, a string fastened around one's neck so tightly that a vested interest in the system was fostered and the need for gobbling up every new gadget, instrument, and fashion became as "natural" as the need to breathe... Packard's greatest attack, though he did not phrase it this way, was on the illusion of consumer sovereignty: the idea that the consumer himself told the producer what he needed and the producer complied. The reverse was happening, but because of the great stress on individualism in America, Packard's thesis was a very difficult one for people to fully accept. The reaction for the most part was very similar to that of the Midwestern farmer who comes to New York City, looks at the Empire State Building, shakes his head, and says, "I see it but I don't believe it".
The doctrine of consumer sovereignty was given its greatest criticism by John Kenneth Galbraith. Writing in The New Industrial State, Galbraith explained that since the turn of the century Corporations were increasingly concerned with managing demands of consumers. "The one man in ten" was carefully planned on the drawing board. Galbraith referred to the control or management of consumer demand as a growing industry in itself, made up of communication networks, merchandising specialists, advertising agencies, research, and other related services. The early Gospel had been transformed into a Great Machine whose primary function was to sell goods. Consumer sovereignty was again seen to be illusion, and only those afraid to face new realities could cling precariously to the idea of the free consumer.
According to sociologist C. Wright Mills, people in the 1950's, were increasingly told by carefully designed mass media formulas who they were, what they should be, and how they could succeed. These formulas were not geared to the development of a sensitive human being. People were becoming increasingly lonely and simultaneously mimicking media happiness. In Brecht's play In the Jungle of Cities, one person says, "if you crammed a ship full of bodies till it burst the loneliness inside it would be so great, they would turn to ice..." The modern consumer-citizen was becoming increasingly alienated, and theorists like Erich Fromm commented that alienation was becoming total, that it pervaded the relationship of Man to Man, Man to his work and Man to the things he consumed.
There is hardly a family that is not under the constant, everyday pressure about "what the house needs next". If it is not a new TV it is a new dishwasher, if not this, then new rugs or curtains or having the den remodelled, or redoing the bathroom. For many couples who are estranged but will not face up to it, all of this consumerism and household planning often serves the function that a child does - it keeps the couple "together". That is, it fosters the illusion that they are on an adventure together, pooling their wits and energies to reach a common goal. Because of this, it is not uncommon to see married couples in their luxuriously decorated bedrooms - which they have put so much into that a harem chieftain would be envious - uninterested in loving one another, sleeping there like two celluloid movie stars, cold and plastic.
Many couples feel compelled to show they have made it together by what they have accumulated. When the debts begin piling up, and economic strain becomes a constant feature of the relationship, rather than cut back on the good life, the husband, as mentioned before, begins to work more, or, as is a growing necessity these days, the wife begins to work. The cycle is apt to grow more vicious if, rather than admit that their way of life is the source of the problem, the wife -- who is forced to work to help pay the bills -- identifies with ideologies to justify her activity, and adds to the problem by getting farther and farther away from its root.
It is important to get this argument clear in the context of the issues raised by women's liberation. Many couples are in trouble because there has been an historical oppression of women -- particularly economic -- in the male-dominated household. Along with this, women have been assigned the relatively menial tasks of household chores which can be, depending on the woman, enough to make a brain rot. The revolution of roles is therefore progressive insofar as it attempts to allow creative women to express their creativity, and insofar as women free themselves from the forced economic dependence and the host of identity problems that are an adjunct of this.
To become an independent breadwinner and to express creative talents requires in most instances that the woman seek employment outside the home. So the new problems arise and must be dealt with: Who cleans the house? Who takes care of the kids? Who controls the bank book? And so on.
Most married women today are working out of economic necessity, particularly wives of blue-collar workers, but this is by no means restricted to that class. Many blue-collar men earn more than the clean-nailed white collar male heads of households.
The major argument given by the women's movement leaders centres around expression of self, not economic necessity. When expression of self is viewed in the abstract it sounds very appealing -- and it is also very misleading. It is the highest ideal for all women and all men to seek and express the unique self that is repressed in modern societies. But how to do it?
How many men can find expression of self in their work? Sociological study after sociological study shows that work is not a central life interest for the great majority of men. Our society offers witless, repetitive, meaningless, boring, exploitive jobs in most instances, and most women, unfortunately, when they do work are consigned to the typewriter or some kind of front work which exploits their looks or congeniality.
It is patently absurd, then, to press the argument and foster the grand illusion that meaning can be found in the work world that should not theoretically be able to be obtained through intimate contact with family members. But yet, the undeniable fact is that in many households there is no meaning to be found, either. This is the impasse that women's liberation should be focusing on.
The relationship between men and women must be examined within the total context of a society such as ours, which tyrannically and with startling ingenuity sells dreams in the marketplace and fosters an outmoded work-to-buy cycle to make these dreams a reality. This is not the nineteenth century. We are living in a highly technological society which holds a vast potential for providing us with the necessities of life and at the same time freeing us from stupid, meaningless work. The emphasis should be to utilize this technology so that we have less jobs and more time to relate to each other as human beings and benefit from our true creative expression.
The confusion which is rampant among married couples misplaces the emphasis and fosters the illusion that the role problems between husband and wife can be solved in the abstract. The illusion of liberation is kept going by resorting to more mindless consumerism through fashion and vacations, while underlying all of this is a dulling of the senses and closing of awareness through alcohol, tranquillizers, and barbiturates
. A good example of this confusion can be seen in the activities of the National Organization of Women (NOW), which, in attempting to solve a problem of women, actually perpetuates the reality which is at the root of the problem.
NOW recognized that women do not get credit as easily as men, and they sought to rectify the problem. As reported in the New York Post (September 27th, 1971) the reasoning of NOW went like this: We want a woman to be able to get credit in whatever name she chooses - married, maiden, professional or whatever. "There is a practical side to this", a NOW spokeswoman explained. "This way, if a couple becomes separated or divorced, she will have maintained her own credit rating, and will not be at the disadvantage of having to re-establish credit ... What the liberated woman wants today is a credit card in her own name, rather than having adjunct credit extended because her husband is deemed a good credit risk. And little by little this is becoming to pass."
The problem of women being dependent on their husbands and discriminated against is a real one, but the credit problem is real only insofar as it is the cause of the problem we are talking about. By pushing for credit for women, without detailing its pitfalls, women who identify with NOW will see this as a goal to be achieved and will fight for credit. The credit problem, however, is part of the problem of a society which pressures people to extend themselves beyond their means without carefully considering the possible negative repercussions. NOW, therefore may be unwittingly aiding the Corporations in their relentless desire to sell us as much as they possibly can. Credit is one of their more ingenious means.
The "young mama" - the image of the modern, whole, married woman pushed by Redbook - is the prototype of the independent woman who presents no challenge to the existing reality of the good life. She is a Corporation's dream. Flipping through Redbook, one finds page after page of glossy ads comprising about 70 percent of the magazine, a smattering of anxiety- producing stories dealing with marriages in trouble and new morality, and a smattering of articles such as "How to Redecorate Your Home", the last mentioned being merely another version of corporate advertising. The total impact is a not-too-subtle definition of what the young, normal, married woman should do to affirm her identity and self-image. In the process she is made a nervous wreck with a constant barrage of questions such as "Are you sure your Tampon keeps you odour-free?" While pondering this important question, the rest of the appearance industry does its work of creating anxiety and offering "solutions". And here it is important to look at, in some detail, another major source of strain on married couples in our society, the fear of growing old and losing sex appeal. As with singles, the husband-wife relationship is highly affected by the physical appearance industry, which has convinced us that it is shameful to grow old, be anything less than thin, smell human, or dress in outdated apparel.
A college student, commenting on the growing rift between his parents told us: "My mother has been grey since her early teens; this never bothered my father until recently when so much fuss was being made about the ease of colouring one's hair. He begins to wonder what my mother would look like in black hair or in a black wig (wigs being so acceptable today). My mother, in turn, begins to feel bad that my father no longer seems to be happy with the way his wife looks. Also, there is so much emphasis on being thin for beauty's sake (as well as for health reasons) that in order to please my father, my mother secretly attends an exercise class at the Elaine Power's Figure Salon."
The mother of this family secretly attempts to slim herself down. Whatever her motive, secrecy is the symptom of shame. The husband, under the bombardment of ads, is beginning to indicate his need that his wife mimic youthfulness which, in turn, causes unhappiness.
. The middle-aged couple is often in a pitiful position in a society which makes one ashamed to age. They suddenly find themselves with wrinkles, gray hair and sagging skin, and begin comparing themselves to images of youthfulness presented in the ads. They gradually begin to look upon their aging as an affliction which can be washed away, creamed away, dressed away, but not accepted.
It may be argued that if one looks younger one feels better, but this logic only holds in a society where one's self worth is identified with appearance. In the bedroom, the middle- aged couple -- if they have had the courage to wash the gook off their faces and heads -- are confronted with each other as they really are -- the wigs off, the colours off, the sheen off, and only a strong love for each other and an understanding of the aging process will keep them from rolling over and dreaming of that young stud or piece of ass who they know they can get to -- or at least masturbate to
. A married woman told us, "I'm losing interest in my husband with every hair he loses. It was getting so that I was ashamed to be seen with him, an old man -- that's how he began to look as he got balder and balder. So I made him get a 'Joe', that's a wig. If I wasn't going to stray from the nest he just had to become a young man again."
Newsweek pointed to the return of "the good old days" and cites this example of a thirty-four year old Connecticut housewife who says, "My whole life revolves around driving my husband to the station, the kids to school, the kids to the dentist, the kids to hockey practise, the kids to ballet classes, the kids to a birthday party. Sometimes I feel as though I'm on a treadmill. I'm glad the energy crisis happened. I think, perhaps naively, that if I spend less time chauffeuring, I can go back to painting and get to know my children better."
Newsweek suggested that many people may use the crisis as a way of restoring community and family life. John Kenneth Galbraith is quoted as saying that "if the energy crisis forces us to diminish automobile use in the cities, stops us from building highways and covering the country with concrete and asphalt, forces us to rehabilitate the railroads, causes us to invest in mass transportation and limits the waste of electrical energy, one can only assume the Arab nations and the big oil companies have united to save the American Republic."
Hopeful as this sounds, it is utter nonsense. Galbraith has lost sight of the much wider crisis and the fact that these recent developments must be viewed from within the context of our entire way of life. The Connecticut housewife has an edge on Galbraith. At least she intuitively feels that she is being naive.
Time's perspective in its December 31, 1973 edition was somewhat closer to the essential point: "as more Americans stay at home instead of taking to the open road, they will buy more liquor, books, television sets, swimming pools, and, say some pharmaceutical executives, more birth control pills." More important is that if the consumer stops compulsively buying because of a temporary recognition of the nation's economic and energy problems, and waits for a better day when he can go on a rampage again, very little will be gained. Furthermore, to believe that any major restructuring of life in the consumer society will come about as the result of an energy shortage without a major transformation of consumer consciousness is to ignore the cold hard facts of American corporate capitalism and the degree to which we have become enslaved to its principal message...
Can we really be so naive to believe that we can turn the clock back, erase the developing patterns of postindustrial society, and building a new way of living, thinking, and feeling without a profound behavioural change, a basic restructuring of our values about the total viability of our consumer society and the manner in which happiness has been defined? Can we really believe that we all will come to our senses because of an energy shortage and that the corporate world will not continue its tactical warfare on our consciousness in newer and more sophisticated ways?
The Western World, as we have heavily illustrated throughout this book, has almost wholly accepted the illusion of material progress as a guarantor of happiness. The common denominator of materialism is an uncritical acceptance of the glittering competitive and success-oriented consumer life as the only reality. The Corporations, their advertising appendages, and the mass media have skilfully created consumer illusions, as our everyday cultural world has built a screen in the human mind, shielding us from our possibilities as a species. Our well-conditioned interests in, and overwhelming concern with the world of material objects and gadgetry leads us to depend on technical solutions to all our problems...
Copyright © Richard Altchuler and Nicholas Regush.
Excerpted from the book Open Reality: The Way Out Of Mimicking Happiness. Reprinted with permission of The Putman Publishing Group