Taken as a whole, we North Americans are
overfed but undernourished. Socially, psychologically and
physically, we are not fully meeting human needs. Although the TV
commercials would have us believe that every itch can be scratched
with a trip to the mall, the truth is we’re consuming more now but
enjoying it less. According to surveys taken by the U.S. National
Science Foundation for the past 30 years, even with steady increases
in income, our level of overall happiness has actually tapered off.
Why? Many believe it’s because
a lifestyle of over-consumption creates deficiencies in things that
we really need, like health, social connections, security and
discretionary time. These deficiencies leave us vulnerable to daily
lives of dependency, passive consumption, working, watching and
waiting. The typical urban resident waits in line five years of his
or her life; spends six months sitting at red lights, eight months
opening junk mail, a year searching for misplaced items and four
years cleaning house. Every year, the typical high school student
spends 1,500 hours in front of the tube compared with 900 hours
spent at school. And this in not just an American addiction: A 2004
French survey representing 2.5 billion people in 72 countries
documented an average of 3.5 TV hours watched every day!
Yet, the game is changing. Just as we approach an
all-time peak in consumption, converging variables like shrinking
resource supplies, runaway debt and, most critically, climatic and
biological instability will necessitate changes in the way we live.
Here’s the good news: Reducing our levels of consumption will not be
a sacrifice but a bonus if we simply redefine the meaning of the
word “success.”
Instead of more stuff in our already-stuffed lives,
we can choose fewer but better things of higher quality, fewer
visits to the doctor, more visits to museums and the houses of
friends and greater use of our hands and minds in creative
activities like playing a flute or building a new kitchen table. If
we are successful as a culture, we’ll get more value from each
transaction, each relationship and each unit of energy. By reducing
the waste and carelessness that now litter our economy – energy hogs
like aluminum cans and plastic bottles, huge thirsty lawns,
excessive airplane travel, feedlot meat and suburbs – we can finance
the coming transition to a lifestyle that feels more comfortable in
the present and doesn’t clear-cut the future.
Value Shift
Imagine a way of life that’s culturally richer but
materially leaner. In this emerging lifestyle, there is less stress,
insecurity, pollution, doubt and debt, but more vacation time, more
solid connections with nature, more participation in the arts,
amateur sports and politics. There is greater reliance on human
energy – fueled by complex carbohydrates – and less reliance on
ancient sunlight stored as pollution-filled fossil fuel. There are
fewer fluorescent hours in the supermarket, more sunny afternoons
out in the vegetable garden. Instead of being passive consumers
doggedly tread-milling to keep up with overproduction, we’ll choose
healthy, renewable forms of wealth such as social capital (networks
and bonds of trust) whose value increases the more we spend it.
We’ll choose stimulating work that’s more like a puzzle than a
prison sentence. And we’ll choose acquired skills and interests that
enhance our free time, making money less of a stressful imperative.
A culture shift like this – from an emphasis on material wealth
to an abundance of time, relationships and experiences – has already occurred in
many societies such as 18th century Japan. Land was in short supply, forest
resources were being depleted and minerals such as gold and copper were suddenly
scarce as well. Japan’s culture adapted by developing a national ethic that
centered on moderation and efficiency. An attachment to the material things in
life was seen as demeaning, while the advancement of crafts and human knowledge
were lofty goals. Quality became ingrained in a culture that eventually produced
world-class solar cells and Toyota Priuses. Training and education in aesthetics
and ritualistic arts flourished, resulting in disciplines like fencing, martial
arts, the tea ceremony, flower arranging, literature, art and mastery of the
abacus. The three largest cities in Japan had 1,500 bookstores among them and
most people had access to basic education, health care and the necessities of
life, further enriching a culture that spent less money but paid more attention.
Canada and the European Union have already started down this
enviable path, making political and cultural space for values that lie beneath
the bottom line of monetary wealth. For example, most EU countries give legal
standing to mandatory family leave from work, part-time jobs with pro-rated
benefits, higher taxes on energy use and pollution in exchange for lower income
taxes and “take-back” laws requiring manufacturers to recycle products at the
end of their use. An everyday ethic is emerging in Europe that encourages
sustainable behavior by popular demand. Says John de Graaf, coauthor of
Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epidemic, “Western European countries have
invested in their social contracts. Strategic investments in healthcare,
education, transportation and public space reduced the need (and desire) of
individuals to maximize their own incomes.”
On the other hand, in places like the U.S. and Australia,
subsidized development patterns and an ingrained quest for privacy and
consumption often spin off unhealthy isolation. A 2007 National Science
Foundation study in the U.S. reported that one-fourth of all Americans have no
one they can confide in or celebrate with, and the inner circles of the rest
have fallen from about three confidants to two. Our need to elevate social
connections to a higher priority is literally a matter of life and death. In one
study reported by Dr. Dean Ornish in Love and Survival, men and women
who were about to have open-heart surgery were asked two questions: “Do you draw
strength from your religious faith?” and “Are you a member of a group of people
who get together on a regular basis?” Those who said no to both questions were
dead within six months, compared to only three percent of those who said yes to
both questions.
Another primordial human need is connection with nature. When
people view slides of meadows and streams, their blood pressure falls, and
hospital patients with a view of trees go home sooner than those whose view is a
brick wall. When people diagnosed with ADHD spend time in nature, the results
are often as effective as Ritalin. Yet Americans are increasingly creatures of
the great indoors and of sterilized, manicured landscapes. For example, some
school playgrounds now display signs that say, “No running!” The design of
playgrounds often excludes the rough, green edges of nature where kids love to
play; instead the aim is to minimize liability, reduce maintenance and improve
surveillance.
Healthy, robust cultures mentor diets that are anthropologically
correct but, sadly, in many market-bound economies, food has fallen from its
lofty stature as a source of well-being, community and clarity to the simplistic
category of fun. “Even wild monkeys have healthier diets than many humans,” says
anthropologist Katharine Milton. Again, in our money-mad world, the focus is on
snackability, convenience and shelf life rather than human life. Alarmingly, the
value of the food has radically declined in the last century. In 1900, wheat
from conventional farms was 90 percent protein, compared to only nine percent
today, according to United Nations data. Popeye would have to eat a hundred or
more cans of supermarket spinach to get the energy-boosting iron he got from one
can back in the 1950s, when soil was still rich in minerals and enzymes.
How can we reclaim our vanishing psychological, physical and
spiritual nutrients? How can we make political and cultural space for these most
critical needs? Here are a few examples: One school dramatically reduced
vandalism and violence by simply taking out the pop machines and replacing
cafeteria fast foods with salad bars, fruits and fresh vegetables. New ways of
building and rebuilding neighborhoods are helping residents create social
networks of trust and support, at the same time preserving habitat and providing
great places to exercise. Cities are stepping forward to ban trans-fats, set
global warming targets, tax bottled water and train organic farmers. We’re
beginning to steer the economy in a different direction that minimizes
unnecessary consumption but optimizes contentment.
Rather than remaining trapped in an economic box of outdated
assumptions, we are speaking out in favor of a joyfully moderate, compassionate
economy that delivers a higher proportion of health, hope and happiness.
David Wann is author of nine books
including the newly released Simple Prosperity: Finding Real Wealth in a Sustainable Lifestyle, and the best selling Affluenza. Find out more at
www.davewann.com.
