Holding Myself to Account

It’s back to school season; get ready for Halloween; don’t wait to shop these Thanksgiving Deals; take care of Christmas gifts early this year; time to refresh your space for the New Year!

Notice how this ad positions the product as the source of the actor’s confidence… interesting.

And on and on, it goes. Wherever we look, we are bombarded with advertisements compelling us to buy more. Whether it’s co-opting the language of self-care (e.g., You deserve to treat yourself with yet another item you’ll forget about in a week) or stoking fears about proving your status (e.g., Everyone’s clamoring to get their hands on the hottest new something or other), marketing experts will take every chance to use our weaknesses to their advantage. Many feel it impossible to resist the constant pull for MORE.

All this spending looks very glamorous until we see the trash it creates; until we see the oil needed to ship and manufacture it all; until we see our mounting credit card debt. We know this can’t go on. We know that a just future isn’t one with fast fashion or “little treats”. We can’t simultaneously build an equitable labor system, one that neither exploits the worker nor the planet, and justify our “seasonal refresh”. It’s not possible in a thriving society, and it doesn’t contribute to our individual thriving either. At the end of the day, it’s all just stuff.

For a stark example of the consequences of hyper-consumption from the Global North, look no further than the mountains of textile waste that litter Ghana, Kenya, Tanzania, and other nations across the continent of Africa (Nature), polluting local ecosystems and, in turn, harming human health. There are less obvious tells of danger in our collective spending habit too. Take, for instance, practically any clothing item you pick up off the rack today. Its tag will almost definitely read POLYESTER, ACRYLIC, RAYON, or SPANDEX, all very creative ways of saying PLASTIC. Not only will these clothes wear away into nothing in a couple of years, (compelling you to buy more of them) they’re literally made of oil.

If you’re reading this, you’re likely aware of the devastating consequences of fossil fuel extraction for our planet and all of its inhabitants. You know that global warming is driven by carbon dioxide emissions and CO₂ equivalents, that warming has already driven thousands of species to extinction, dried up water sources for hundreds of communities, and kills millions of people each year as Summer becomes more and more extreme. You also know that those residing near power plants, textile factories, AI data centers, and other large industrial machines are far more likely to suffer from a slew of diseases ranging from asthma to cancer.

We like to believe that we’re not responsible for this, that it’s the corporations’ fault, not ours. While it’s true that we do not bear the blame alone, we have to ask, “Who gives these corporations the money to wreck all this chaos?” and we can’t shy away from the answer. Each of us contributes to some extent, that’s more or less unavoidable, though we do have some control over the amount that we empower the structures tearing apart our lives and the lives of others.

I have never been especially prone to hyper-consumption, though I don’t say this with pride. I consider it to be something I’m simply fortunate not to have been afflicted with to the same degree many people I love are. I’ve had to suffice with less for a fair bit of my life, which for some creates a search for abundance, but for me has created contentment with less. However, I’m not perfect. I’ve absolutely bought cheap things I don’t need only to regret the money and the ethical failure as soon as the receipt’s in my hand. I’ve bought the cheapest option without thinking about why it’s so cheap more times than I care to admit. Sometimes, I just need to prioritize my budget over all else, but I wonder how my spending would look if I consulted my values first and foremost.

On September 4th, I moved out of student housing and into my first apartment. The place is unfurnished, requiring me to make more purchases over the course of the month than I’ve ever made at one time. That’s why this month, I’ve decided to hold myself to account on my own consumption, literally. I’ve been documenting everything I buy throughout September as a means of reflecting on my spending decisions and analyzing where I may be able to better align my purchases with my values for a just world. The best way to do this so far seems to be utilizing second-hand sources and Buy Nothing groups wherever possible. In addition to my housing needs, I’ll report my housing costs, groceries, school supplies, and any extraneous purchases that come up, as these too can pose a challenge to my values.

This is not a low-buy, I’m not challenging myself to spend as little as possible or to be the most ethical consumer to have ever existed. Instead, I’m simply seeking to bring a heightened level of awareness to my consumption as a means of better understanding the decisions I make and how I may choose differently going forward. Though, of course, I’m sharing this endeavor for a reason. I want to highlight the power we wield with our dollar.

I recognize that I’m not the best case study. I come to this with a lot of privileges that limit the number of items, especially disposables, that I need, as well as a lot of practice budgeting out of necessity. You might have more difficulty with a lifestyle adjustment like this. Maybe because societal expectations practically force you to purchase beauty products to be seen as ‘professional’ or even ‘presentable’. Maybe because you don’t have permanent residence and therefore can’t buy items in bulk, relying instead on single-use products that cost more and require more packaging. Or maybe you’ve just never been pushed to learn how to manage your money in a way that’s more considerate of others, the planet, or your own long-term financial security. There are many barriers you may come to this post with. Not all of them will make a project like mine impossible, but I respect that they will absolutely make it more difficult.

It’s true, “there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism”, but this isn’t a question of absolutes either. As far as I’m concerned, it just doesn’t make sense to choose the most damaging option when you could lessen the blow and maybe even do some good as you go about your shopping. I know I can’t do everything perfectly, but I’ll do the best I can this month, and I welcome you to join me. I look forward to laying out my findings in my next piece.

Rachel Carson National Environmental Leadership Fellow Miles Levesque

Miles Levesque (he/him) is a first-year Environmental Studies and Sustainability student at Drexel University, committed to advancing local environmental policy and education through his studies, academic projects, and local advocacy. Currently, he is working as a research assistant in the Climate Pedagogy Incubator, an experimental learning community primarily composed of Drexel University professors dedicated to implementing various pedagogical techniques to teach climate justice across all fields.