Consumerism probably began as showing off a handful of carved ivory beads, some nice extra pelts, and a bigger cave painting. It showed that you and your tribe were so successful at hunting and gathering that you had extra time to make froo-froo and bric-a-brac that weren’t absolutely necessary for survival. Other tribes gave you respect, and your children had first dibs on potential mates.
But where are we now?
In Your Money or Your Life Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin make the assertation that the reason many people feel empty and lost is because they place to high a value on having physical possessions to prove their success. Basic needs - especially in a first world country like the US - can be met by working around 20 hours a week. Past that, you begin to lose touch with the things that really matter - family, community, spirituality, and so on.
At the end of the Industrial Revolution, they assert, we had the means to satisfy material needs with the same amount of work those hunter-gatherer tribes put in to meet their own. Everything after that should have been gravy. Instead, what we have now is an ever increasing one-upmanship of consumerism and materialism. With very few exceptions, to be successful is to have a large amount of wealth, to own a large house, multiple cars, take outrageous vacations, wear designer clothes, and always stay on the cutting edge of fashion. The work it takes to secure these things can easily preclude less tangible forms of success.
Consumerism is wasteful of resources - finite resources that we must all share. If it’s the only yardstick to measure personal success by (and somedays it feels that way to me), we run the risk of devaluing precious parts of ourselves that have nothing to do with material goods.
Certainly the drive to be successful is a boon to humankind. Would we have anywhere near as many doctors and scientists and artists and inventors if there weren’t the spur to succeed? But can we find less pernicious ways to evaluate our own success and that of others?
Where should we, as individuals, draw the line? At what point does the accumulation of material wealth get in the way of physical/emotional/familial/societal health? What would it take to change society and culture using material wealth as a measure of success?