The Weight of Stuff

An interesting post today from Knute Berger on crosscut.com about Americans' happiness over time and distance. I was (smugly) satisfied to read that us Westerners are happier than those living in other parts of the country, but what really caught me was the quote from Bill McKibben's Deep Economy about the "American Paradox:"

"Since 1957, the number of Americans who say they are 'very happy' has declined slightly, from 35 to 30 percent. We are twice as rich and no happier. Meanwhile, the divorce rate has doubled, the teen suicide rate has more than doubled, and increasingly our teens and young adults are plagued by depression."

To me, this is a major issue that I wish more people were talking about. The consequences of a continual drive for "material progress" permeate every layer of society, from how we relate to our friends and family, to how much we're willing to work, to how far we're willing to go to buy giant houses (and set off a cascade of economic turmoil!).

The weight of consumption really hit me during the holidays. While visiting Justin's parents in Kerrville, we drove through San Antonio to eat some (damn good) barbeque. Or, I should say, we drove around San Antonio on the ubiquitous Texas loop highway that has decimated the city's downtown. The big-box sprawl was truly mind-boggling. I could not believe how many Targets and Best Buys I counted; it seemed like one passed every couple of miles for miles upon miles. How could people want to buy all of this stuff? Is this really people's ideal use of hill country land?

I decided that night to go on a consumption diet. In the spirit of The Compact, I committed to buy nothing new for one month. I knew a month was not a long time, but, to be honest, I was really nervous about what it would be like. I felt inspired by The Compact participants' one-year commitment and promised to extend my diet if one month flew by like no big deal.

And indeed, a month turned out to be pretty easy, especially since I was living off the pleasure of having new clothes and books from Christmas. So I held on for February... and much of March... and just last weekend bought my first new item, a book about hiking the Wonderland Trail from REI. (I would have purchased it used from Amazon or something, but we had to mail our camping reservations the next day. So a lack of planning got me.)

We've been buying some new backpacking gear with our REI dividend, but I'd like to get back on The Compact train. I feel GOOD not buying anything - really, not even worrying about buying anything. Shopping is stressful and time-consuming (particularly as a graduate student, when time and money are in short supply). I feel a sense of lightness every time I toss a J. Crew or Williams-Sonoma catalog in the recycling bin without a glance.

There's much more to this story that I want to discuss, like the Buddhist and environmental reasons for breaking out of the purchasing routine and the economic implications of a massive slowdown in American consumer spending. So, more later. For now, I'll just say that I, for one, am happier with my life when it's removed from the drive for material wealth. I refuse to be a victim of the American Paradox.