If the first four chapters seemed to appear for the sole purpose of offering a dose of doom and gloom, Juliet Schor writes on to prove that it was just the right helping. If you felt like you’d had enough of spending and consumerism and were ready to put down the book, the author had you right where she wanted you. The truth is, as tired as the reader grows of being told how it is (and it is fine research), is as tired as a majority of Americans are of this economy and lifestyle of not being able to keep up being how it is. Where a reader might feel like it is time for a change of subject, people are beginning to feel it is time for a change of lifestyle. Enter the downshifter next door– he or she has “had it with demanding jobs and stressed-out lives” (113).
Schor meets, studies, and profiles many of these people, each of whom chose downshifting for different reasons– work and spend cycle too tiring, the job too unexciting, the money never enough. In Jennifer’s case, the money was more than enough, the things it bought less than fulfilling; she says, “I’ve got stuff stacked up all over the house, and I’m never going to get to read any of them unless I’m in a major car accident” (123). It amazes me that this society has gotten to a place where being the victim of a car accident is only one of few reasons to slow down long enough to pay attention to, or possibly even enjoy, what hard work has earned. Could it be that what we’ve earned is not necessarily satisfying? Schor calls the situation of the downshifters “major financial retrenchment,” but it may not be as bad as it seems (124). The Mattson’s make a good point: it is all about what reward a person is seeking (130). If “balance” is too difficult to find in a race to the top society (in an economy that is perpetually racing to the bottom for labor), then earning more and more will only perpetuate the problem. Schor asserts, then, that wanting less might be the answer. Like the Mattson’s, all downshifters “have experienced a change in which time and quality of life became relatives more important than money” (138).
Schor donates a major section, then, to explain how a person changes their minds– and their goals. Her principles include emphasis on durability, de-emphasis on “cool,” voluntary constraints, borrowing and lending, education regarding consumption, curbing excess spending, suggesting making holidays not about gifts, rescheduling, and encouraging communication amongst consumers. There is no doubt that these principles would impact different families differently, but buying the $30,000 dollar car would impact certain families differently, as well. Many would rather see themselves as similar to the family that could afford that car rather than as similar to the downshifter with a new lease on life. It is striking to me how similar people want to seem in their ability to consume while at the same time wanting to distinguish themselves from the ebb and flow of this new consumerism. If one is willing to make the financial stretch to get the $30,000 car, why is he or she so opposed to making the mental stretch to finding ways to consume creatively, resourcefully, and with care? (167) It could be that America is afraid of the repercussions, which Schor discusses in her epilogue. It could also be that Americans just are not ready to engage intellectually the issues that have plagued the nation financially for years. Perhaps spending has just become a byproduct of work– it is something we have earned and are not yet ready to curb. Maybe we just have not yet reached the point of being so repulsed by the current system that we– as individuals, then as a nation– truly want it to change.
As a class, I think we agree that it is time to kick the spending habit. If not for ourselves, then for the real targets of this consumerist nation– the teenagers. Watching the video in class, I could feel the collective cringe. Sex sells. Drugs and alcohol sells. Naked girating on national tv sells. But just because it sells does not mean it is right to consume. As repulsed as we claim to be by the marketers observing the “average” teen in his “natural environment,” it is up to the consumers to draw the line. As we read books like Schor’s, the bait– the promise of being cool or rich or better– becomes a little less attractive. Unfortunately, teens cannot be expected to have done their research. So while it may be easier for us to draw the line, it could be that our greatest responsibility will be to draw the line for our children. We discussed this most in class, the need to make good consumers of our children the way our parents example makes us want to be smart consumers. We heard of parents who set good examples as accountants and financial planners and from parents of bad example, such as mine who accumulated much debt, if by the noble quest to attend medical and nursing schools. But I got the impression that what our parents instilled most was a fear of not having enough.
We fear living paycheck to paycheck, we admit that while all the downsizing and time sounds great, the desire for plenty still reigns supreme. We do not want to have to worry about our finances. Maybe that comes from being raised by a generation so obsessed about the finances. I, for one, am more interested in having my kids fear having too much. I don’t want the concern for having enough keep me from giving. And I’d rather my example to my kids have more of an impact than any example an MTV marketer can come up with for the “average” American teen. Mostly what I came away from class feeling was that we are not as satisfied by the ability to spend as advertisers tell us we are. Instead, it has just become a byproduct our lives and of our work. It is something we feel like we have to do as a good consumer, maybe even as good offspring. We do not so much want to spend as we want to earn. What we do with those earnings has everything to do with finding a “decently functioning economy coexisting with a decent cultural and daily life experience” (173). The only real answer to all of the questions Schor poses in her book is to think about it (and that is her ultimate advice). I believe our class discussion has gotten us doing just that– we are actively having to critique our own habits as we read about and watch other people’s experiences.
