Right Here, Right Now | The Problem with Stuff

by A. E. O'Neill

[Originally published January 20, 2003 at ignorance.tv]

"An entire generation pumping gas and waiting tables, slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate, so we can buy shit we don't need." In the immortal words of Tyler Durden, "The things you own... they end up owning you."

It sounds cynically simplistic—typical of the post-grunge Generation X school of thought—but if you define "ownership" over someone as possessing the power to dictate their actions, to override their natural instincts, personal desires, common sense, good judgment, code of ethics or respect for the law, it comes much closer to literal truth than reactionary rhetoric.

The jobs we hold, the time we invest, the energy we expend, over the course of a lifetime, in the pursuit of ownership, ultimately leaves little time or energy for anything else. As soon as we've learned to walk and talk, we are expected to pursue an education, a process that can take upwards of twenty years but without which, we are forced to believe, we will be useless—burdens on society. An education guarantees gainful employment, which ensures material security, which is, it seems, the sole measure of human success.

From the moment that we sign our first student loan application or apartment lease, we're targeted with the first of many credit applications. Credit is our invitation into the grown-up world, a passport to servitude that enlists us in a virtual war of property escalation where the winners are ranked by their willingness to sign over time, privacy and freedom, and are limited only by the extent of their greed.

Every purchase you make on your credit cards cements the relationship between you and the banks, the big corporations and the judicial system, representing your promise to work an additional eight, twenty or one hundred hours, beg, steal or borrow—do whatever it takes—to repay the balance on your borrowed possessions. Little wonder that so many people refer to their jobs as a prison; they've signed up for years of voluntary internment so that they can fill the space between their rented walls with items that make them feel safe, successful and responsible, like they've arrived.

If you purchase a home, you're told that it's infinitely preferable to "own" than to "rent," so that all of your payments eventually establish ownership over the small, crowded space that you and your possessions occupy. The mortgage may take fifteen to twenty-five years to pay off but in the end you will be able to say it's yours. Until then, you are an indentured servant, legally bound to your home under the threat of foreclosure and the ruin of your credit rating. Every option you consider now is based in part on the necessity of making those payments and the fear of what will happen if you fail.

Of course, to eschew ownership, in our society, is to be labeled irresponsible, unrealistic and immature—an escapist, at best—at worst, maybe a terrorist. Attempts to actually live outside the consumer culture can earn you everything from sympathy to scorn to suspicion... to surveillance—and an outright refusal to conform rarely gets you anything less than jail time.

These days, every form of entertainment, from prime time dramas to big screen blockbusters and everything printed on paper or burned on a disk is an advertisement for something. Money may not make the world go around but the loss of it can make the world seem to stand still.

Perhaps our dissatisfaction with the status quo isn't merely due to a failure on our part to attain inner peace in a world obsessed with possessions. Maybe it is the result of an unconscious rebellion against being bought and sold as a commodity by advertisers and politicians alike.

We are, without a doubt, guilty of apathy, and of sublimating the desires for truth and depth of experience with objects that offer a temporary distraction. We need to be more aware—and less lazy—if we want to get through our lives without succumbing to stress-related illnesses and suicidal ambivalence. We need to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and take responsibility for our destructive habits. If our lives are out of control, it's only because we refuse to live within our means.

If you're not getting paid what you're worth, shopping is not going to make you feel better and when your impulse purchase of the day becomes another entry on your inflated Visa statement, you'll probably feel even worse.

If you have so much stuff that you have to rent a storage locker that isn't even on the premises where you live, you (uh, like myself) might have a problem. Those are most likely all the things you haven't quite admitted that you don't want or need in your life anymore? If you find yourself making excuses to pay visits to the rented room full of stuff, you might want to seek help (I know I do).

In the end, I don't care what anyone spends their money on, or how much they spend, so long as they believe that they're happy. If it takes a brand new Lexus SUV for you to feel truly self-actualized, I doubt that we'll be friends but I can't argue with your reasoning as long as it's working for you. If you can't afford it, the only thing your car will never tell people about you is that you're an insecure, gullible, pretentious loser whose priorities are hopelessly out of whack.

No one ever believes they have enough money but, when you complain that you can't afford the things you want, what you're really saying is:

a) You're lazy. Want more stuff? Then get a second job, work harder, relocate or take the job with the demanding boss and incompetent coworkers, collect garbage, take your clothes off, break the law, if you must.

Or:

b) You're greedy. You want things that you don't need and can't afford.

We've recently discovered that the Catholic Church is incapable of keeping pedophiles out of the Priesthood, so how can we still expect our system of government to protect us against fundamental injustices inherent to the human condition? We can't even trust in god to prevent bad things from happening to good people.

Capitalism can bring out the best or the worst in human nature. It's based on the idea that we are fundamentally equal and that our fate and our happiness is in our own hands. Our parents were right when they told us that freedom never comes without responsibility—and we really do get what we pay for. It isn't easy, but it's fair.