This is the midweek edition of Culture Study — the newsletter from Anne Helen Petersen. Paid Subscribers: If you haven’t activated your invitation to Sidechannel, email me for a new one. New topics this week: #garden-outdoor-fixit and #kin-chosen-family-divorce-community. And, of course, Bennifer 2.0.
I've thought about this a lot and, for me at least, a lot of it comes down to that feeling of "busyness" and wanting so much to do things that make me feel better but not being able to justify the time. I want to sit down and read a book, but I am so busy (and yes, this is of course that manufactured busyness that we've all been told to devote our lives to) that I feel like I can't actually do that - but what I can do is BUY a book. And I feel a little bit more like a person who might sit down and read a book.
Recognising this does not, of course, stop me from buying a bunch of shit all the time. But it helps me sometimes, to recognise that impulse and go, "Do you want to buy this book/sports bra/mug/cosy sweatshirt or do you actually want to read/do yoga/have a quiet cup of tea/snuggle up on the sofa?" and then trying to make time to do the activity instead of buying something as a proxy.
Yes, yes, this is looking in a very uncomfortable mirror. I was both grateful that you did not list houseplants in the list of hobbies that require consumption and also highly aware that we should add houseplants to that list. (I justify that and book purchases by telling myself that I'm helping to keep two local businesses afloat... but it is also 100% first and foremost, a stress response and self-soothing tactic learned from a youth spent in shopping malls.)
Since I study history, I find it helps to take the longest rear view possible. There is a terrific, but enormous book, on this subject called Empire of Things by Frank Trentmann, who writes, "the empire of things expanded in part because possessions became increasingly important carriers of identity, memory and emotions. To the collector, things are friends and family, not dead matter. Clothes, cars and many other objects are prized for the feelings they generate within their owners as well as their practical use." There are obviously better ways to deal with the dangers posed by our empire of things (re-use and repair, for example), but I firmly believe that the feelings we have about our things are part of a very long tradition stretching back 500 years, and those feelings are not easily jettisoned - nor should they be.
This was such a perfect explanation of this rumination that kept me up just late night (and I had to subscribe just to tell you how perfectly timed it is, plus, the subscription fee is less money I can spend on buying things to make me feel slightly more in control).
It’s so hard to get off this cycle. I used to joke with my partner that my solution to every problem is to throw money at it because I was raised by a dad who did the exact opposite and caused his family a lot of suffering because of it. But now it’s not so funny. I find myself ramping up spending around the times that I have to travel because I am so anxious about it.
I’m a fat woman, so the anxiety makes sense, because the world is not comfortable or kind to people who are shaped like me. Yet no amount of spending on the perfect travel bag or headphones or whatever is going to ameliorate how it feels to experience more or less constant marginalization. We cannot spend our way into the good graces of a society that wishes we didn’t exist. It’s an unfixable problem in my lifetime, so I feel defensive of my spending habits because I’m just so damn tired. I hope that by reading your newsletter again and continuing to really think about what long-term solutions I can apply I start to feel more hopeful.
Oh, and a comment by Angie mentioned YNAB, that truly has been a huge shift in how I approach my money and I think has been what kept our household surviving when one of us (me) owns her own business that has, of course, slowed down during the pandemic and the other one of us lost her job (my partner) because she has long COVID and can’t work. I can budget a modest amount for stupid, pick-me-up purchases and know that I am not taking away from essential pieces of my budget by doing so, which helped with the guilt and shame I feel about spending the money on the stupid stuff which actually made it easier to cut back on overdoing it.
Such a good piece, and I couldn't agree more. But as someone who doesn't like to shop/acquire, I'd love a discussion around the implications of breaking the mold.
I have so much stress and anxiety around holidays due to my lack of desire for gifts - and this comes from the community that is supposed to be the fix. My husband/family want my "lists" and are so frustrated when I simply want nothing. I'm "back-owed" quite a few birthdays, anniversaries, mother's day gifts etc. They're not comfortable giving nothing, and I don't want more stuff just laying around. The amount of time and anxiety I have to put into coming up with things to ask for is unreal. Added to that is the fact that my husband and his family are acquire-ers and he loves stuff. This can create resentment and tension in itself.
All this is to say, what comes next? There are alot of ripples that come from simply buying less. How do we, as a community and individuals, make this change and support each other in making it as well?
I also want to give a shout out here to the buy nothing group (which I do love). But I've noticed even there, people channel their consumeristic drives into simply acquiring more (free) things, versus the intent which is to waste less and build local community.
I definitely experienced the shopping as therapy practice during the pandemic, and got suckerwd into buying fixit junk. But being confined in my small apartment for a year also has prompted a process I am undertaking now: put away, give away, throw away. I am determined to put things where I can find them (and avoid replacements), donate clothes and books and stuff (eg candle holders) to Good Will, and just recycle/throw away magazines and paper and other stuff. (Reading this, it's clear that my life story could be titled "The Story of Other Stuff".)
I cope with my depression and anxiety and the challenges of life through shopping, and it's been a huge problem for me. When I was at my lowest in 2017, I spent $5K on a credit card within six months. Those little dopamine hits got me through many days because I was so desperate for anything to lift me up. I acknowledge that this doesn't solve the problem, but it's easier said than done. Back when I was an evangelical, I spent a lot of that money in Lifeway Christian Bookstore, thinking that maybe this devotional, this CD, this thing would be what unlocks an awakening in me.
I had something traumatic happen two weeks ago and it's started to unlock this pattern again. Just yesterday I caught myself buying a bunch of pretty stones/crystals from the local New Age store because I haven't had a good night's sleep in like 10 days and they are supposed to help with that or something...and a guided nature journal from a boutique across the street. (I did sleep better, but it wasn't amazing, in case you were wondering. Take that how you will.)
I know I need to process this trauma and the past trauma and break the cycle of pretending to cope with shopping. It's so hard. I started with a new therapist yesterday and she's really great so far. She has me doing this thing called Release Writing, where for 10 minutes you write (without judgement) whatever is on your mind on an ugly piece of paper and then rip it up. I did it last night and did feel better after. After I write this comment I do think I'm going to release write and basically start at the top with "fuck capitalism"
I wonder at how we escape this whole process. I have those hobbies that want ongoing consumption -- you can always buy more bikes or bike gadgets or woodworking tools. At some point, though, you realize that 'another tool you own is another tool you have to care for, when you could have been building something'.
Along the way I found Chris Schwartz' writing on 'aesthetic anarchism' and the notion of rejecting consumption in favor of skill. 'Do not covet the furniture of your gaoler', in his words -- if you don't like the present environment of endless consumption, but you still need stuff, then you need to make different choices about that stuff.
But I find that actually embracing this sort of means accepting a lot of chaos and imperfection into your life. I moved recently and needed bookshelves and couldn't stomach more IKEA. So I've been building them, slowly, while working and parenting. And it means that our books live in various states of disarray. But I wonder at whether the 'new shiny thing' promises a [ephemeral] solution to this chaos and imperfection.
"This might sound ridiculous, because a garden, a yard, a home — at least in contemporary capitalism — are eminently desirable, the ultimate bourgeois end goal. But once obtained, they transform into sources of ever-proliferating problems: a wack-a-mole of to-do lists, dark pits into which your money disappears with little to no effect."
Now add the advent of BNPL companies (Afterpay, Uplift, Affirm, Klarna). I know I truly can't afford the item, but I can afford the payment. These so called small purchase become larger and larger, trying to fill a whole that can never truly be filled. In Irving Fisher's theory of interest he said that debt is nothing more than selling the rights of your future stream of income for the present day value of an item. Companies understand that if they can provide the product as quickly as possible without the least amount of impact to your wallet, then the consumer will see it as a choice well made. Death by1,000 cuts—or micropayments.
Thank you so much for this! your mirror is my mirror in this case, and your closing line is amazing - it locates the problem so succinctly and beautifully.
Given that this problem's source is deeper/elsewhere, I find that tackling the purchases-problem on its own terms is difficult. I'm working on the time issue, but it has a long and slow trajectory, at least for me. In the meantime, I find that my strategies for changing spending habits are feeble.
One is to be my own ethics-cop about it - but honestly this one doesn't work that well, as it often leads to purchases anyhow (prioritizing less disposable purchases, for example). What I find -is- really motivating is when I can transform a non-purchase (or at least less- and better-purchase) option into an aesthetic choice - one that feels new and enticing in its underlying priorities and therefore in the kinds of pleasure it brings.
For example, renovating my old kitchen by painting the dinged, ancient cabinets and adding thrifted knobs (rather than installing sleek new cabinets) makes for a fun puzzle. It makes my kitchen feel less like a covet-object and more like a conversation between me and my house (and the people who lived here before). With more "conversation" in the mix, an aesthetic of dialogue emerges - an enjoyment of how it's done and with whom. This makes for a deeper pleasure than the glossy option.
It doesn't solve the problem of capitalism! Plus this form of renovation does require time to think and imagine and tinker, so alongside my Too Much job it's terribly slow. But I do find that when I apply the "find pleasure in the how" principle to certain tasks, it creates a different form of action - one that undermines the centrality of purchase and starts to grow its own logic...
You've aptly described why I've made myself resist buying an Apple Watch. I don't need one. I have a phone and a Garmin that does the things that the Apple Watch would do for me, and I don't want to fall into the cycle of "needing" to replace a $400 device every few years (plus buy cute watch bands!) when I already have a computer, phone, tablet, Garmin and Fitbit that I feel compelled to somewhat regularly replace at a ridiculous cost. And yet I want one.
Cooking tools - so justifiable - we're not going to restaurants anymore, we are sticking to our post-pandemic diets, we want to eat healthy non-processed food, if I buy the convection oven/air fryer, I'll make good things at home when I come back from work exhausted. Pampered Chef, Williams Sonoma, not to mention jars of tasty spices and sauces.
My copes during the pandemic were/are cooking gadgets and fitness gear. It was the only thing that peeled me away from the constant dread of the news cycle. Now that I'm back to a full workload I'm so overwhelmed in how to balance things I love with my regular scheduled programming.
Yes, definitely! We've had non-essential stores properly closed here probably 7 out of the 14 months, and I just want to go to TKMaxx and buy all those little things I "need" (but have clearly lived without for the 6 months since we moved in. I will spend all the ££ at the garden centre though, they're a local business, plants make me happy and don't clutter up my house.
I feel this pretty hard. I’m also pretty susceptible to Instagram influencers. The only thing that keeps me in check is my budgeting software (YNAB). I get sad when I can’t buy something, but then I think about the anxiety I’d have if I wasn’t funding my home and car maintenance categories.
I've thought about this a lot and, for me at least, a lot of it comes down to that feeling of "busyness" and wanting so much to do things that make me feel better but not being able to justify the time. I want to sit down and read a book, but I am so busy (and yes, this is of course that manufactured busyness that we've all been told to devote our lives to) that I feel like I can't actually do that - but what I can do is BUY a book. And I feel a little bit more like a person who might sit down and read a book.
Recognising this does not, of course, stop me from buying a bunch of shit all the time. But it helps me sometimes, to recognise that impulse and go, "Do you want to buy this book/sports bra/mug/cosy sweatshirt or do you actually want to read/do yoga/have a quiet cup of tea/snuggle up on the sofa?" and then trying to make time to do the activity instead of buying something as a proxy.
Yes, yes, this is looking in a very uncomfortable mirror. I was both grateful that you did not list houseplants in the list of hobbies that require consumption and also highly aware that we should add houseplants to that list. (I justify that and book purchases by telling myself that I'm helping to keep two local businesses afloat... but it is also 100% first and foremost, a stress response and self-soothing tactic learned from a youth spent in shopping malls.)
Since I study history, I find it helps to take the longest rear view possible. There is a terrific, but enormous book, on this subject called Empire of Things by Frank Trentmann, who writes, "the empire of things expanded in part because possessions became increasingly important carriers of identity, memory and emotions. To the collector, things are friends and family, not dead matter. Clothes, cars and many other objects are prized for the feelings they generate within their owners as well as their practical use." There are obviously better ways to deal with the dangers posed by our empire of things (re-use and repair, for example), but I firmly believe that the feelings we have about our things are part of a very long tradition stretching back 500 years, and those feelings are not easily jettisoned - nor should they be.
This was such a perfect explanation of this rumination that kept me up just late night (and I had to subscribe just to tell you how perfectly timed it is, plus, the subscription fee is less money I can spend on buying things to make me feel slightly more in control).
It’s so hard to get off this cycle. I used to joke with my partner that my solution to every problem is to throw money at it because I was raised by a dad who did the exact opposite and caused his family a lot of suffering because of it. But now it’s not so funny. I find myself ramping up spending around the times that I have to travel because I am so anxious about it.
I’m a fat woman, so the anxiety makes sense, because the world is not comfortable or kind to people who are shaped like me. Yet no amount of spending on the perfect travel bag or headphones or whatever is going to ameliorate how it feels to experience more or less constant marginalization. We cannot spend our way into the good graces of a society that wishes we didn’t exist. It’s an unfixable problem in my lifetime, so I feel defensive of my spending habits because I’m just so damn tired. I hope that by reading your newsletter again and continuing to really think about what long-term solutions I can apply I start to feel more hopeful.
Oh, and a comment by Angie mentioned YNAB, that truly has been a huge shift in how I approach my money and I think has been what kept our household surviving when one of us (me) owns her own business that has, of course, slowed down during the pandemic and the other one of us lost her job (my partner) because she has long COVID and can’t work. I can budget a modest amount for stupid, pick-me-up purchases and know that I am not taking away from essential pieces of my budget by doing so, which helped with the guilt and shame I feel about spending the money on the stupid stuff which actually made it easier to cut back on overdoing it.
Such a good piece, and I couldn't agree more. But as someone who doesn't like to shop/acquire, I'd love a discussion around the implications of breaking the mold.
I have so much stress and anxiety around holidays due to my lack of desire for gifts - and this comes from the community that is supposed to be the fix. My husband/family want my "lists" and are so frustrated when I simply want nothing. I'm "back-owed" quite a few birthdays, anniversaries, mother's day gifts etc. They're not comfortable giving nothing, and I don't want more stuff just laying around. The amount of time and anxiety I have to put into coming up with things to ask for is unreal. Added to that is the fact that my husband and his family are acquire-ers and he loves stuff. This can create resentment and tension in itself.
All this is to say, what comes next? There are alot of ripples that come from simply buying less. How do we, as a community and individuals, make this change and support each other in making it as well?
I also want to give a shout out here to the buy nothing group (which I do love). But I've noticed even there, people channel their consumeristic drives into simply acquiring more (free) things, versus the intent which is to waste less and build local community.
I definitely experienced the shopping as therapy practice during the pandemic, and got suckerwd into buying fixit junk. But being confined in my small apartment for a year also has prompted a process I am undertaking now: put away, give away, throw away. I am determined to put things where I can find them (and avoid replacements), donate clothes and books and stuff (eg candle holders) to Good Will, and just recycle/throw away magazines and paper and other stuff. (Reading this, it's clear that my life story could be titled "The Story of Other Stuff".)
I cope with my depression and anxiety and the challenges of life through shopping, and it's been a huge problem for me. When I was at my lowest in 2017, I spent $5K on a credit card within six months. Those little dopamine hits got me through many days because I was so desperate for anything to lift me up. I acknowledge that this doesn't solve the problem, but it's easier said than done. Back when I was an evangelical, I spent a lot of that money in Lifeway Christian Bookstore, thinking that maybe this devotional, this CD, this thing would be what unlocks an awakening in me.
I had something traumatic happen two weeks ago and it's started to unlock this pattern again. Just yesterday I caught myself buying a bunch of pretty stones/crystals from the local New Age store because I haven't had a good night's sleep in like 10 days and they are supposed to help with that or something...and a guided nature journal from a boutique across the street. (I did sleep better, but it wasn't amazing, in case you were wondering. Take that how you will.)
I know I need to process this trauma and the past trauma and break the cycle of pretending to cope with shopping. It's so hard. I started with a new therapist yesterday and she's really great so far. She has me doing this thing called Release Writing, where for 10 minutes you write (without judgement) whatever is on your mind on an ugly piece of paper and then rip it up. I did it last night and did feel better after. After I write this comment I do think I'm going to release write and basically start at the top with "fuck capitalism"
I wonder at how we escape this whole process. I have those hobbies that want ongoing consumption -- you can always buy more bikes or bike gadgets or woodworking tools. At some point, though, you realize that 'another tool you own is another tool you have to care for, when you could have been building something'.
Along the way I found Chris Schwartz' writing on 'aesthetic anarchism' and the notion of rejecting consumption in favor of skill. 'Do not covet the furniture of your gaoler', in his words -- if you don't like the present environment of endless consumption, but you still need stuff, then you need to make different choices about that stuff.
https://lostartpress.com/products/the-anarchists-tool-chest
https://blog.lostartpress.com/2020/07/20/the-furniture-of-your-gaoler/
But I find that actually embracing this sort of means accepting a lot of chaos and imperfection into your life. I moved recently and needed bookshelves and couldn't stomach more IKEA. So I've been building them, slowly, while working and parenting. And it means that our books live in various states of disarray. But I wonder at whether the 'new shiny thing' promises a [ephemeral] solution to this chaos and imperfection.
"This might sound ridiculous, because a garden, a yard, a home — at least in contemporary capitalism — are eminently desirable, the ultimate bourgeois end goal. But once obtained, they transform into sources of ever-proliferating problems: a wack-a-mole of to-do lists, dark pits into which your money disappears with little to no effect."
Now add the advent of BNPL companies (Afterpay, Uplift, Affirm, Klarna). I know I truly can't afford the item, but I can afford the payment. These so called small purchase become larger and larger, trying to fill a whole that can never truly be filled. In Irving Fisher's theory of interest he said that debt is nothing more than selling the rights of your future stream of income for the present day value of an item. Companies understand that if they can provide the product as quickly as possible without the least amount of impact to your wallet, then the consumer will see it as a choice well made. Death by1,000 cuts—or micropayments.
OMG, it's like you're inside my brain. I identify completely, right down to your TNG analogy.
Thank you so much for this! your mirror is my mirror in this case, and your closing line is amazing - it locates the problem so succinctly and beautifully.
Given that this problem's source is deeper/elsewhere, I find that tackling the purchases-problem on its own terms is difficult. I'm working on the time issue, but it has a long and slow trajectory, at least for me. In the meantime, I find that my strategies for changing spending habits are feeble.
One is to be my own ethics-cop about it - but honestly this one doesn't work that well, as it often leads to purchases anyhow (prioritizing less disposable purchases, for example). What I find -is- really motivating is when I can transform a non-purchase (or at least less- and better-purchase) option into an aesthetic choice - one that feels new and enticing in its underlying priorities and therefore in the kinds of pleasure it brings.
For example, renovating my old kitchen by painting the dinged, ancient cabinets and adding thrifted knobs (rather than installing sleek new cabinets) makes for a fun puzzle. It makes my kitchen feel less like a covet-object and more like a conversation between me and my house (and the people who lived here before). With more "conversation" in the mix, an aesthetic of dialogue emerges - an enjoyment of how it's done and with whom. This makes for a deeper pleasure than the glossy option.
It doesn't solve the problem of capitalism! Plus this form of renovation does require time to think and imagine and tinker, so alongside my Too Much job it's terribly slow. But I do find that when I apply the "find pleasure in the how" principle to certain tasks, it creates a different form of action - one that undermines the centrality of purchase and starts to grow its own logic...
You've aptly described why I've made myself resist buying an Apple Watch. I don't need one. I have a phone and a Garmin that does the things that the Apple Watch would do for me, and I don't want to fall into the cycle of "needing" to replace a $400 device every few years (plus buy cute watch bands!) when I already have a computer, phone, tablet, Garmin and Fitbit that I feel compelled to somewhat regularly replace at a ridiculous cost. And yet I want one.
Cooking tools - so justifiable - we're not going to restaurants anymore, we are sticking to our post-pandemic diets, we want to eat healthy non-processed food, if I buy the convection oven/air fryer, I'll make good things at home when I come back from work exhausted. Pampered Chef, Williams Sonoma, not to mention jars of tasty spices and sauces.
My copes during the pandemic were/are cooking gadgets and fitness gear. It was the only thing that peeled me away from the constant dread of the news cycle. Now that I'm back to a full workload I'm so overwhelmed in how to balance things I love with my regular scheduled programming.
Yes, definitely! We've had non-essential stores properly closed here probably 7 out of the 14 months, and I just want to go to TKMaxx and buy all those little things I "need" (but have clearly lived without for the 6 months since we moved in. I will spend all the ££ at the garden centre though, they're a local business, plants make me happy and don't clutter up my house.
I feel this pretty hard. I’m also pretty susceptible to Instagram influencers. The only thing that keeps me in check is my budgeting software (YNAB). I get sad when I can’t buy something, but then I think about the anxiety I’d have if I wasn’t funding my home and car maintenance categories.