Kids and consumerism
By Kris Berggren
National Catholic Reporter
November 16, 2007
The Declaration of Independence, the founding document
on which our national sense of identity is grounded,
mentions prominently “the pursuit of Happiness” as an
essential condition of our American-ness. And to many
Americans, that means the pursuit of stuff. One might
sum up the aspirations of many Americans in the words of
rocker David Lee Roth, “Money can’t buy happiness -- but
it can buy you a big yacht so you can pull right up next
to it.”
That’s funny, but what’s not so funny is the pressure
that many American parents feel to supply their children
with goods that not only clothe their bodies or occupy
their time but are somehow linked to their children’s
happiness and well-being. Here’s a perfect example of
how some families find the lure of the marketplace
irresistible: One misguided mom, profiled in an Oct. 25
Wall Street Journal article on “fashion bullying,” had
invested heavily in her sixth-grade daughter’s prestige
by filling the girl’s closet with fashionista clothing
brands like Juicy Couture, True Religion and Seven for
All Mankind, only to see her daughter’s popularity
quotient nosedive as her pals moved on to other brands.
Even the label names seem intended to tease the
spiritually deprived American consumer toward false
salvation. And if you’re still not convinced that
consumption is like a national religion, picture this: a
bright yellow Hummer with this vanity plate: HE ROSE. I
saw it with my own eyes.
From toddlers to teenagers, marketers know a target when
they see one. Designers are unabashedly creating
high-priced collections sported by the likes of
Madonna’s and David Beckham’s kids. Teenagers do tend to
crave the coolest cell phones or i-gadgets with the
newest features or colors. But even ordinary kids -- and
little ones at that -- can get sucked into branding.
“My children are just starting to request things their
friends have that they would like,” said Rachel Morris
of Minneapolis, who is reluctant to indulge budding
consumer desires. “So they are starting to feel
pressure. Toy guns, action figures, Game Boys are the
kind of things Noah [age 5] wants. For Maggie [age 3],
it’s Disney princesses.” Morris has managed to say no
for now.
Though Morris limits her kids’ television viewing and
won’t buy branded clothing, she admits she’s tempted to
buy stuff she doesn’t really need, even if it’s
something small like the Halloween party game for Noah
she bought impulsively at Target, but later realized she
could have made herself. She likens in-your-face
consumerism to an intravenous drug. “It’s there. You
can’t battle it all day long. You just let it drip in.”
Families who manage to resist rampant consumerism tend
to be social critics. “I think the sense of consumerism
in the American context -- being marketed to, made to
feel insecure, and then filled up -- is really negative
and harmful to us as a society,” says Juliann McDermott
of Minneapolis. She credits her own beliefs to her
family’s strong values about American privilege and
responsibility for the needs of others. Maryknoll
magazine was prominent reading material in her home. “I
learned at an early age that although there were things
I wanted, there were many people in the world who had
genuine needs. Knowing that has helped me to feel lucky
for what I have and to be content living as simply as
possible.” She and her husband John Alterini, an artist
and cabinetmaker, share those values with their
daughter, Johanna, 8.
But McDermott says consumerism isn’t all bad -- people
have needs and wants that are met through buying and
selling goods. Denise Atwood of Spokane, Wash., agrees
that Americans should be accountable to the global
community for their consumer practices. “As the largest
consuming country in the world we can make a lot of
impact by our consuming decisions.”
Atwood and her husband, Rick Conner, own Ganesh Himal
Trading, a fair-trade import company. With their son,
Cameron, 10, they’ve made numerous trips to Nepal to
source the handcrafted goods they buy and sell to about
200 fair-trade stores in North America. Witnessing the
vast differences between the American lifestyle and that
of the Nepalese people the family has befriended has
honed her son’s ability to distinguish needs from wants,
said Atwood. “He doesn’t whine for things. ‘Because I
have so much,’ he says. He sees through other people’s
eyes how fortunate he is.”
Still she recognizes the relativity of how Americans
perceive those needs and wants. “I feel all the time I
have way too much. For me, everything is relative to the
people I work with in Nepal,” she explained. “Others’
lives may be relative to their coworkers [here]. They
may see themselves as having less compared with their
coworkers.”
In Alpharetta, Ga., an affluent suburb of Atlanta, Jim
Mahon, a retired electronics manufacturing sales
representative and father of four adult children,
teaches 100 eighth graders each week in his Sunday
school classes at St. Thomas Aquinas Parish. He helps
his students to connect the dots between what goes into
their brains -- specifically the influence of media,
advertising and peer groups -- and the choices they make
as consumers, as citizens, and as Christian stewards of
God’s creation.
“I work with them on marketing and advertising,” Mahon
said. “Millions of dollars are poured into research to
figure out how to get you to part with your money. There
is nothing wrong with buying something, but don’t get
sucked into it. In fact I tell them spend your money, it
keeps our economy going. But have a reason, don’t just
do it subconsciously.”
One way to avoid the impact of mindless marketing
messages is obvious: Abstain from the media that deliver
them. Half the families interviewed for this article do
not watch television. McDermott and Alterini don’t, nor
do they use the Internet at home, and “none of us knows
how to play a video game,” said McDermott, a Montessori
elementary teacher. “That is probably where we are the
most odd as a family,” she admitted. And she won’t buy
brands that are advertised on television, or that bear a
store name. But they aren’t completely immune to their
daughter’s desire to fit in with friends; Johanna loves
a certain type of T-shirt favored by skateboarders, so
when she saw one and told her dad she’d like it, he
bought it for her.
It’s not surprising that families who forgo TV spend
time reading, playing music or sports, or being
outdoors. McDermott’s family goes to the off-leash dog
park weekly. “Spending time out of doors helps us to
combat some of the consumerism. Because you don’t need a
lot if you are out walking in the woods; clothing is
about function, not fashion. It’s more about having
experiences together than the stuff.”
Laurie Powers, a lawyer in Spokane, takes Carter, 11,
and twins Fiona and Bridget, 7, to the library each week
to stock up on books instead of buying them. “They can
see visually; if we were buying all this stuff, we would
have books everywhere!” Her children practice karate and
soccer together, and take piano lessons. They don’t have
television but they do have a game cube, and a Wii game
system that Carter paid for himself.
These parents do give an inch. They know there are times
when surviving the daily grind preempts idealistic
values. As families’ needs shift, they may depend more
on conveniences that are less in keeping with their
overall values, or conversely they may find time to be
more conscientious about their choices.
Powers and her husband, Breean Beggs, also a lawyer, are
activists who compost and recycle, serve on committees
in the community and at their church, Westminster
Presbyterian, and attend events like the Bioneers
Conference, an annual gathering of progressives
interested in environmental and social justice causes.
Yet Laurie recalls, a few years ago the family “went
through the McDonald’s phase,” during an especially
hectic period when they were relocating to Spokane,
remodeling a home, and juggling two jobs and three
children.
“There was a time when that worked for us and that’s
just what we did. Now we have more time to be more
conscious,” Laurie said. Today the children are well
versed in reduce-reuse-recycle practices and engaged in
family decisions such as whether or not to go out to eat
or to save the money and resources.
Living one’s values is not a zero sum equation, in other
words. The meal you finish tonight won’t, in fact,
immediately prevent a child from starving in Biafra,
Iraq, Darfur or Haiti. But choosing not to waste food or
to avoid excess packaging or to save money on brand
names that you can invest in college savings or donate
to charities or even buy fair-traded goods shows your
kids you don’t have to go with the flow.
Morris sums up her attitude about the daily experience
of resisting the consumer machine. “It’s really more a
practice of awareness. It’s a path. I want to be a
person who thinks about all the issues that are related.
And to know how I can be, at least, not part of the
problem.”