A man decides to walk into a Starbucks, having marveled over the desirable goods on the opposite side of the branded window. The heavy doors swing open, the baristas stand their guard and prepare to act swiftly; the visitor removes his sunglasses, straightens his spine, and smooths his step as he walks forward to speak over the lush tones of jazz in the background.
"I want this."
And he gets it. Whatever his desires may be at this time and place, they will become a reality. A drink with ingredients that are normally separated by continents? Done. A hot and tasty meal, prepared and wrapped to go in seconds? Wish granted. Not satisfied with your order? We'll replace it.
The Customer is God.
This is the power of the dollar. By even strolling into a location designated for products, it is expected that those who request an item will get it, provided they go forth to make a purchase. No money? No item. If purchasers are treated well though, they will return, and growth for that business will ensue. And so the customer begins to develop a false sense of entitlement: if they've got money, they've got what they want.
This is why, at the most subconscious level, buying things has become an act of comfort and impulse. We are expressing our power over individuals and whole businesses by allowing them to assume we have money. This is why it's difficult for many of us to not be impulsive with our purchases. Even if we recognize the irresponsible nature of a purchase down the road, the heat of the moment is often enough to overwhelm us. It's as if we are closing in on the hunt, relishing in the glory of being active and skillful consumers, and now, we must make the kill.
"We've come to pillage your location," says the consumer, "we will be taking all we can and you will oblige us at every point along the way."
We are almost always obliged; when we are not, trouble is made, hence the glorification of customer satisfaction at nearly every retailer. And so we make purchases, we are catered to and the endorphins are sent rushing. Shopping becomes an addiction - distributors and retailers are our willful and willing dealers. We demand, they supply, no questions asked.
It is taboo in this culture (and most cultures) to live a life without expressing yourself. The problem with this, is that as the world grows smaller and faster, we seem to run out of time to see the humanity in those around us. It is demanded that we try to make ourselves known in this world where appropriate, but without a sense of community we tend to shift the importance of expression onto our things and our purchases; our time and our money. This becomes the most comfortable means of expression for some - they may not be able to say how they feel, but they can wear it or listen to it or consume it.
People's possessions become obsessions in the absence of community, we posit the social value of someone by their collective ownership and belongings. Our interactions begin to mimic that which we admire most - the consumption of goods and services. Every social interaction, therefore, becomes a public process of reciprocity. This is why people who don't conform to social norms make others terribly uncomfortable. You can't just say something without someone asking for it in some way, and the same goes for business transactions.
Plain and simple, it can be near impossible to get someone to give solely for the sake of giving. We gift, but this is not always giving. We are sometimes baiting, in hopes that our favor will be reciprocated. It's a means of inflicting social manipulation. This notion may not be comforting, but it is the underlying principle to the social construct of gift giving.
But when we shop, we're not being given or gifted anything; we're taking what we want, when we want...that's why for some of us shopping is the ultimate form of self-expression and power. We can seemingly exhibit unlimited power, anywhere we desire, with enough monetary worth.
Or so we think.
The money we earn (or rather, the time and energy we expel to earn that money) goes towards the production and distribution of goods and services. We work for various establishments, business executives, corporations, companies, tiny shops and big-box stores alike, all for the sake of making money. At the end of the day we can go forth with this money to consume and survive. Somewhere down the line though, if you're putting in hours, you're ensuring that a product or service is being replicated. We are consuming the goods and services we helped to create, and the people running businesses enjoy that concept - to ensure their survival, they hire help.
By working for a part of the economy, we "help" the economy by the media's standards. But helping the economy is based on helping the economy grow. This is why most nations in the U.N. judge the well-being of a country based on its GDP. The economy is the foreground of modern life, but it's starting to take up so much space that there's little room for anything else. We've put so much time into it; we start to assume it must be the most important thing to us, even if there is no correlation between GDP and happiness. This growth had become the obsession of American economists after WWII, and eventually, we all became a part of it. We are all participants of a machine that has become self-perpetuated. The act of one person leaving the machine is not enough to drag it to a halt or give the appearance of making a difference.
But the collective efforts of many could certainly make a difference. As a student, I know what I put my time and money into: educating myself and living a sustainable life. As a future employee, I hope that the only organizations and business I contribute to are ones which I can ethically support. If the value of my money is enough to vote for the creation of businesses and products, why earn my money (and expel energy) at a place I have no reason to support?
Many of us find ourselves in situations where we tolerate terrible employers, rationalizing our ethical poverty with the importance of money. This does not have to be the case. If enough people refuse to work for businesses that make unethical decisions, those businesses will deteriorate and eventually implode. If we make conscious decisions with the spending of our dollar, we support the businesses that truly need to exist in this time and place.
It's common thought in western culture that somewhere along the line, money = power. On the most general level, this is an easy concept to grasp and become a part of. But this is somewhat of an illusion - the social power of the dollar is only defined by the constructs we give it. Nothing has ultimate power if we accept that everything is but space, molecules, and energy, because we are all connected. While I understand it is highly improbable to someday eradicate the social power we ascribe to the dollar, the least we can do is use that power for good.
When you buy something, when you consume a product, when you scour the internet for the right price or race to the mall to gain access to the newest sale, recognize the time and energy from around the planet that went into making the goods and services you consume. Even if it was made down the street, or by ethical means, is it energy you're willing to represent? Is it energy you need to keep for yourself?
When voting with your dollar, ask yourself:
"Am I awake?"
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Update March 22nd:
I could write loads more on this, but as usual, The "Story of Stuff" Project has done an excellent job at keeping it simple...
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