Monthly Archives: May 2013

From Listverse: 10 Shady Origins of Consumerism in the US

POP CULTURE

10 Shady Origins Of Consumerism In The US

S. GRANT MAY 16, 2013

Consumerism and the practice of flaunting one’s status through clothes, jewelry, and other things has existed since the dawn of civilization. Yet, the endless cycle of working to buy has never been more rampant than it is now. How did the United States, a nation founded on Puritan, non-materialistic tenants become filled with the biggest shoppers on the planet and end up occupying 29% of the World’s consumer market? As it turns out, Americans were carefully and systematically manipulated into becoming insatiable shoppers.

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Freud’s Theories
 

1933 Lucky Strike Ad

The man who is largely responsible for introducing advertising as we know it was none other than Sigmund Freud’s nephew, Edward Bernays. Bernays’, nicknamed the “father of public relations,” studied his uncle’s writings on psychology and group mentality and learned humans react to feelings not facts. With this knowledge, he saw an opportunity to capitalize on people’s subconscious desires by selling goods with the promise of delivering power, status, sex appeal, glamour, health, and other things with emotional connections. His uncle also taught him that humans often act irrationally when emotions are involved and can be led to believe objects are a symbol of their character. Bernays used these theories to manipulate people into buying products they didn’t necessarily need or want.

One of Bernay’s first widely known marketing campaigns was for the American Tobacco Company where he was tasked with attracting more female smokers. Of course, he had one major hurdle to overcome—it was 1928 and there was a longstanding taboo about women smoking in public. So, Bernays’ consulted a psychoanalyst to help him get at the root of the taboo and was told that cigarettes symbolized the penis. Bernays shrewdly decided to center the Lucky Strike campaign on female power and independence, by advertising cigarettes as “torches of freedom,” equating smoking to female equality. His advertising efforts caused a national stir and almost immediately made it acceptable for women to smoke.

Bernays dominated the marketing arena throughout much of the 20th century and is the reason why those in the US consider bacon and eggs the quintessential breakfast, why Ivory soap is preferred by doctors, and, according to some, is the reason why people believe water fluoridation is safe and beneficial. He had so many successful campaigns that “Life Magazine” named him one of the most influential Americans of the 20th century.

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Entwined with the Government
 

Ride With Hitler

From the start, it seems the idea of a consumerist, malleable society was linked with government ambition. Some of Bernays’ earliest work was as a press agent for the American Committee on Public Information during World War I. In that position, he promoted President Woodrow Wilson as a liberator, spread the tenants of democracy, and was so accomplished he joined the President at the Paris Peace Accords in 1919.

After seeing the effectiveness of propaganda, those in authority weren’t too keen on putting the art of manipulation back in the bag, so to speak. So, even after the war, both the government and businesses continued to use propaganda as a way to control citizens, and occasionally the interests of the government and corporations aligned.

For example, manufacturers were worried the high production and sales they’d grown accustomed to would dwindle once the war was over. Naturally, they didn’t want to see diminishing profits, so they used Bernay’s advertising strategies to convince people to buy more by linking goods to unconscious desires. At the same time, many presidents touted the ‘buy, buy, buy,’ mantra in the hopes it would boost the economy. President Herbert Hooversaid to Bernays, “You have taken over the job of creating desires and have transformed people into constantly moving happiness machines, machines which have become the key to economic progress.”

8

 

Citizens Became Consumers
 

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Once consumerism settled in as the basis for the American economy, those in power gradually quit seeing Americans as citizens, but regarded them, above all else, as consumers.

Indeed, it seems today’s leaders treat us like potential buyers, and instead of giving us well-formed, fact-based arguments, they offer sales pitch-esque communications and package their platforms as if they’re destined for the marketplace. In 2002, when George W. Bush’s chief of staff Andrew Card was asked why the administration waited months to explain the reasoning for invading Iraq, Card replied “You don’t roll out a new product in August.”

Overtime, the habit of referring to “citizens” as “consumers” became increasingly common, and now the terms are used interchangeably. This evolution, however, doesn’t sit well with everyone. According to a recent study conducted by Northwestern University, many folks take offense at being called a consumer, “as if their sole purpose and reason for existence on this planet is to consume—to eat, drink, use, watch, and buy stuff.” Interestingly, the study also found that being labeled a consumer automatically makes people behave more selfishly.

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“Public Relations”
 

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In an interview shown in the BBC documentary “The Century of Self” Bernayssaid the word “propaganda” developed a negative connotation after World War I and II, since it was associated with something Soviet Communists and Nazis used to perpetuate their command. To distinguish his profession Bernays quit calling his industry propaganda and renamed it “public relations.” Still, public relations was little more than a euphemism, as it continued to rely on the fundamentals of propaganda: half-truths, persuasion, and attempting to change public attitudes. Although advertisers weren’t coercing people into supporting a particular political party, they were using their messages to influence how citizens felt about clothes, cars, beauty, and everything in between.

Nowadays most of us know we can’t take any advertisement at face value. In other words, we understand celebrities are paid to carry a certain brand of bag, we see the Coke can placed blatantly front and center in our favorite TV shows, and we know cars are supposed to represent male sexuality. Yet, even knowing these ideals were completely manufactured, it’s nearly impossible to keep them from seeping into our own beliefs — that’s the strength of the propaganda.

Apparently, Bernays didn’t realize his form of marketing so closely resembled fascist strategies and was shocked to learn Joseph Goebbels, Hitlers Reich Minister of Propaganda, kept copies of Bernay’s writings and used them to engineer the rise of Nazism.

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Keep Consumers Unsatisfied
 

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Early advertisers understood the only way to keep consumers buying was to ensure they were never wholly satisfied. Although most companies didn’t make shoddy products (although planned obsolescence is currently an issue), they did use ads to convince viewers they were somehow inferior if they didn’t have the newest, most expensive gizmo on the market.

Wall Street banker Paul Mazer made it clear when he said, “We must shift America from a needs- to a desires-culture. People must be trained to desire, to want new things, even before the old have been entirely consumed. We must shape a new mentality in America; man’s desires must overshadow his needs.”

It was no secret customer dissatisfaction was the goal for many manufacturers. Charles Kettering, director of General Motors, wrote an article for a 1929 magazine which he candidly titled “Keep the Consumer Dissatisfied.” In it, he tried to persuade readers that continual consumption was the only way to sustain the economy. He said, “You must accept this reasonable dissatisfaction with what you have and buy the new thing, or accept hard times.”

 

 

5
Profit More Important

 

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While it may seem like it’s our economic duty to continually spend (and subsequently work harder), in truth we could all work a fraction of the time and still have enough goods and services to meet everyone’s needs. Secretary of labor James J. Davis discovered this fact in 1927 and discussed it in an interview with “Nations Business,” pointing out that America’s textile mills “could produce all the cloth needed in six months’ operation each year” and only 14% of the country’s shoe factories were needed to provide every citizen with footwear for a year. Later in the interview it was suggested that all the world’s needs could be met by only three work days a week.

Facts aside, intuitively it seems like we should be working significantly less than our ancestors. After all, we have machines, assembly lines, computers, the internet, and a wealth of technology meant to make our lives simpler, yet, according to an ABC News article, we are working longer hours than at any time since statistics have been kept, and Americans are working more than anyone else in the industrialized world.

So, what gives? Why isn’t technology making our lives easier and why aren’t we all jumping on board the three day work week that was shown viable in 1927? Unfortunately, it’s all done for the sake of business profits. Working employees everyday and getting greater numbers of products to market is more profitable for business owners than just meeting everyone’s needs—that is, of course, if they can convince people to buy the products. But, thanks to Bernays and his followers, corporations know how to turn citizens into consumers, trigger their unconscious cravings, and make them purchase unnecessary products.

4

 

The Elite
 

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In his later life, Sigmund Freud became increasingly withdrawn from the world as he felt humans were innately evil and civilization was a largely ineffective construct meant to restrain our animalistic sides. Bernays and others latched onto this notion and felt it was their obligation to direct the masses towards what was best for society.

Bernays’ own daughter said her father felt the public’s judgment was not to be relied upon since people could very easily vote for the wrong man or want the wrong thing, so they had to “be guided from above” by a group of enlightened despots. As expected, Bernays deemed himself one of the enlightened and used his advertising messages to influence the people towards his will.

Walter Lippmann, a 1920s political commentator, had similar notions and believed people would operate under a mob mentality if not adequately governed by the intellectually elite. He argued that the average person had too many limitations (selfishness, preconceptions, limited social contact, prejudices, etc.) to make socially responsible decisions. Such philosophies gave those in power the ability to justify their manipulative tactics.

3

 

Democracy = Consumption
 

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For the elites to maintain dominance over the average man and keep him on the perpetual work/ buy machine, they had to link consumption with an emotion nearly all Americans share: patriotism. And nothing is a greater symbol of Americanism than democracy.

Those who judged themselves enlightened, like Bernays, saw nothing wrong with manipulating the public into thinking consumption was a democratic necessity. In fact, he may have believed it himself, as he said, “The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in a democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country… we are dominated by the relatively small number of persons… who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires which control the public mind.”

The idea of consumption being fundamental to consumerism became so ingrained that today when someone speaks of anti-consumerism or anti-capitalism they are immediately pegged as a socialist or communist. Yet, others would argue a capitalistic, consumption-based society is by definition undemocratic because it perpetuates low wages and creates class divisions which prevent all citizens from having an equal say in the decisions affecting their lives. In other words, those with the most money have the most power and influence.

2

 

Corporations Aligned Together
 

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There were a few who spoke out about how unbridled consumerism led by corporations could result in excessive waste, depletion of resources, and a submissive working class.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt particularly stood out in his distrust of a corporate-run economy. In his 1936 “Acceptance Speech for the Democratic Nomination for President” he said, “It was natural and perhaps human that the privileged princes of these new economic dynasties, thirsting for power, reached out for control over government itself. They created a new despotism and wrapped it in the robes of legal sanction. In its service new mercenaries sought to regiment the people, their labor, and their property. And as a result the average man once more confronts the problem that faced the Minute Man.”

Fearing Roosevelt’s sentiments could undermine their influence, the industrial elite from corporations like General Motors, DuPont, and General Foods came together and formed the National Association of Manufacturers (NAM). Together they started spreading the message that Roosevelt was running the country into debt and was responsible for the slow economy. In a 1936 internal memo, NAM was tasked with “re-selling all of the individual Joe Doakes on the advantages and benefits he enjoys under a competitive economy.” NAM packaged its message with the idea that sacrificing a free economy would lead to the handing over of all freedoms to the government, including free speech, religion, and press.

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Installment Plans
 

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In the 1920s, manufacturers realized they could expand their profits even further by targeting a largely untapped market—the poor and lower-middle classes. Obviously these folks didn’t have much disposable income, so businesses came up with a sort of workaround: the installment plan. These plans allowed consumers to buy expensive goods by agreeing to pay for the product in increments over a set period of time. Often this setup resulted in the buyer paying far more than the product was actually worth, yet it made it possible for many more people to purchase costly items such as cars, appliances, furniture, washing machines, and other luxury goods.

Creditors, debtors, and installment plans were nothing new for the time, but being in debt always carried a certain stigma. Savvy advertisers knew they had to remove the shame of debt if they had any hope of the masses taking advantage of the installment programs. And so they did. “A small cash payment,” “convenient monthly payments,” “a reasonable down payment,” and other persuasive sayings, which are all too familiar today, became mainstream. In some publications the number of advertisements mentioning installment plans more than tripled through the 1920s. Also, the overwhelming success of installment buying in the auto industry (thanks in large part to GMACs marketing efforts) made it socially acceptable to use installment plans to buy other types of goods.

Unfortunately, the Great Depression that followed the roaring 1920s was more painful for those who participated in installment plans, since their lack of income also meant the repossession of many of their belongings.

Unfortunately, it seems neither businesses nor citizens have learned from the mistakes of the 1920s and ’30s, since we’re still persuaded to rack up debt and live outside our means.

Content and copy writer by day and list writer by night, S.Grant enjoys exploring the bizarre, unusual, and topics that hide in plain sight. Contact S.Grant here.

Original article link:  http://listverse.com/2013/05/16/10-shady-origins-of-consumerism-in-the-us/

 

 

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You can’t trust profiles – a conversation between Falk Richter and Eva Illouz

FALK RICHTER: I’d like to talk to you about trust in modern relationships. Relationships which are conducted through the internet. The first thing people are asked to do is to describe themselves in a very detailed and formalized way. You have to break down not only your body, your personality but also your wishes, your desires into pieces and places them in specific categories. So you have to scrutinize, evaluate and describe yourself from the outside with the aid of formalized mark schemes.  You’re encouraged to present yourself advantageously so that you’ll quickly find other people who are interested in you. Here you’re competing with a great many other users. At the same time you are being offered a vast number of potential partners. To be successful, you’ve got to be good at selling yourself in a really aggressive market and you’ve also got to make a decision who out of this flood of options you’re actually going to meet live. People who enter internet dating sites often manipulate their profiles. They use the same techniques that are used in advertising to push a product. Do these people actually have any trust in the truth of the other profiles they encounter in that virtual space?

EVA ILLOUZ: No, not at all. The basic assumption of every user is that you can’t trust the profiles. Most users provide false information about their age, their income, and they attach manipulated or completely false photos to their profile. That means you can assume that nobody trusts anyone they date online. Some sites have tried to react against this lack of trust and tell the users not to give any information about their age. Then you just put your birthday and not the year you were born. But there is this basic lack of trust and then when people do meet live, it becomes more complicated. Internet dating has caused a fundamental shift in the way dates happen now. They’re like business meetings, where each side assumes the other is lying or hiding something. Both sides try to find out if the product that the other is trying to sell has any errors or weaknesses that they’re keeping quiet. Both are principally engaged in passing off their lies to the other. So these meetings are characterized by a fundamental mistrust, and yet they want something from each other: a romantic relationship. And that demands trust. You want to be able to let yourself go. So there is a constant swing backwards and forwards between opposite attitudes of distrust and trust. Continue reading

TCG: Violence and Theatre Making by JOHN MOLETRESS in ARTISTRY & ARTISTIC INNOVATION,NATIONAL CONFERENCE

(This post is a part of the Artistic Innovation blog salon curated by Caridad Svich for the 2013 TCG National Conference: Learn Do Teach in Dallas).

“Art is violent.  To be decisive is violent.”  – Anne Bogart, A Director Prepares: Seven Essays on Art and Theatre

“Ultimately, we hear things because we cannot see everything.” –  Slavoj ŽižekGaze and Voice as Love Objects

Violence is to act- to set into action, to force, to move.  Too often in our culture violence is a form of coercion, a physical exertion of force used to maim or harm.  In art, the violent act becomes a shifting paradigm- to create new forms, new models for making work.  The violent act is to make change on a molecular level.  In painting, the violent act is the first stroke upon the canvas.  In writing, the first words.  In ensemble theatre making, the violent act is stepping from training to staging.  The period of development never seems to be enough.  The dialogue can always be deeper, more intrusive of the material.  To perform trust is an act of violence against our physical space, our sphere of individuality.  This sphere can exist in a constant state of fluctuation, growing larger or smaller depending on external circumstances, cultural conditions or social context.  As civilians, this trust can be violently infringed upon.  The information we receive and how we receive it may influence our ability to trust by drastic measure.  Such can be seen time and time again by traumatic events and how they are reported.  Fight or flight sets in until we are informed we can feel safe again.

As theatre artists, we are asked to perform in a hierarchy of trust.  We trust the stage manager will inform us of the correct rehearsal time.  We trust the director will lead us down the most truthful path.  We trust our fellow actors will not betray us in the moment.  There is theatre that causes a visceral reaction, whether through content or form or a combination of both.  This type of theatre stops us.  We want it to spark dialogue.  So often in our daily lives we quickly move between points, tasks, engagements so at the end of the day we may resume our time as autonomous individuals.  To stop, to think, to reflect becomes a violent act, a cessation of movement.

I founded force/collision, an interdisciplinary performance ensemble based in Washington, D.C. so that we might have a lab for creating new work and exploring ways of working.  We come together on a regular basis to discuss, to move, to strengthen our vocabulary for making work.  Our long periods of project development can be both a blessing and a curse.  When the time comes to stage, it can seem disruptive.  Gathering the material and shaping it for presentation can be a daunting task.  One move may feel right while twenty others feel ill-fitting.  Having also worked in the regional theatre model with four weeks of rehearsal, there is something to be said about creating under the pressure of time.  I strive to trust initial impulses but it is easy to lose steam and get caught up in thinking and re-thinking over a period of time.  Structure is key.

Lately with force/collision, we are approaching our work broadly at first, developing the movement vocabulary, adding text and thinking dramaturgically after we have laid the foundation.  Mostly, we work with source material and non-linear texts that are characters themselves, the embodiment of a language to be written over the signs and symbols of the performer’s gestural vocabulary.  If the addition of text seems too sudden, too premature, we return to simply moving and responding.

In our current project “Trust me” we return to exploring the dance-theatre hybrid.  We are working from three texts by German playwright Falk Richter which explore Western ideology’s affect on the body and psyche, noting such events as the 2008 global financial crisis and Occupy movement.  Using these three texts, which were developed/performed in three separate productions with Richter’s collaborator Anouk van Dijk, dance/text was used as a conduit for the issue of “trust”- the who, why and how of trusting ourselves and each other.  As an exploration of navigating this complex system, we are creating a distinct score from these pieces so that we might examine the issue from an American perspective.  What motivates us to action?  What are our available resources and how do we use them?  Is the way in which we use these resources a reflection of our cultural identity?  How is this distinctly American?

The question of theatrical innovation in America and the development of new work radiates out from a place of mobility.  How do we move forward and with what tools?  Language is ever-present.  Under changing systems, meanings, symbols and our relationship to the functionality of language is mobile.  Plays become re-energized by evolving contexts.  To innovate is to become hyper-aware, to become more present.  Spoken language does not seem enough, so we must pay close attention to how we speak and with what intent.  The definition of innovation- to invent, to introduce something new- seems deceiving in theatre.  If we look at innovation as a means to re-shape, to re-investigate or to pose a new way of looking we may feel less overwhelmed.  “Necessity in the mother of invention”.  It is from our necessity to respond and create, as long as we remain openly aware, that innovation will present itself.

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The Aesthetics of Consumerism- Daniel Harris

WEDNESDAY, APR 26, 2000 12:00 PM EDT

“Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic: The Aesthetics of Consumerism” by Daniel Harris

With the malice of a gifted comic, an angry author argues that our “personal” tastes are something we were sold by advertising.

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TOPICS: ADVERTISINGBOOKS

When writers pontificate about how some cultural artifact affects “us,” they generally mean their audience, or at least themselves. Daniel Harris takes a very different approach in “Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic,” his jeremiad (his own word) against American consumer culture: He discusses the ways that product pluggers’ visions strike an “us” best characterized as nobody who could begin to understand the argument of his book — if in fact “we” exist at all. To Harris, “we” are a blank-minded mob of automatons who not only strive to keep up with the Joneses but require advertisers to tell us who the Joneses are.

Harris’ baleful premise is that popular notions of “cuteness,” “quaintness,” “zaniness,” “naturalness,” “cleanness” and so on are artificial fabrications of the capitalist machine. What we think of as our unique tastes are rooted in how we are sold what we buy; movies, TV and magazines shape our ideals. Take fashion photography, which, like most advertising, Harris finds “pornographic” in its soulless appeal:

Our lives are now mediated through the aesthetics of consumerism, through images so commanding that we imitate their inanimacy and deadness, which have become crucial components of the glamorous woman’s stylishness, her photographic remoteness and serenity.

Our yearning for cuteness, quaintness, etc., Harris says, tosses similar existential wrenches into our lives. Not only are such concepts fake, they and their fakeness have been absorbed as hulking pathologies into our collective psyche. For instance, according to Harris, “The basic credo of coolness is nihilism,” and so he deconstructs late singer Nico’s heroin addiction as a double-barreled pursuit of coolness and glamour:

Nico’s defacement of her own beauty to acquire the glamour of coolness shows how the aesthetic of ugliness, like the aesthetic of the teenager’s bedroom, is extremely moralistic, based on an almost evangelical contempt for the body, a Gnostic, self-hating puritanism.

Teddy bears are stump-limbed and obese; dolls’ eyes brim with tears; and we find Winnie-the-Pooh’s pratfalls and blunders adorable — thus, “cuteness is the aesthetic of deformity and dejection.” Commercial portrayals of happy couples “present a pastoral utopia in which all rivals have been ruthlessly liquidated through a type of aesthetic genocide.” When we eat natural foods, we’re not really concerned with our health but with “gnawing our way out of cities … getting so close to the earth that we actually incorporate parts of it into our body in a symbolic act of cannibalism.”

But there are some huge flaws in Harris’ misanthropic logic. Is addiction motivated only by a desire to look cool? Should children be denied teddy bears and given lifelike rat dolls with sharp claws and snapping jaws instead? Of course not. Stuffed animals have big eyes, ineffectual arms and round bellies because baby mammals (including baby humans) do, too, and the cuteness of babies appeals to our most primal emotions. But there’s no room in this essay for the emotions or, for that matter, for the down-to-earth reason of real people, millions of whom daily navigate the shoals of media drivel without Harris’ hothouse angst. He reduces virtually every impulse — hunger, humor, the way we choose to decorate our apartments or get dressed in the morning — to the brainwashing, often contradictory directives of marketing.

Harris is unfailingly clever; his observations are those of a gifted comic. But he leaves off the punch lines. He won’t acknowledge that he’s exaggerating, that nobody really believes most of what advertisers say and that when we do follow fashion, it doesn’t inevitably signal our corruption. His examples prove his point only if we accept his presupposition that we’re hopeless, hapless rubes.

While Harris identifies the culprit as capitalism, with its surfeit of unnecessary stuff and its requirement that we keep discarding the old and buying the new in order to keep the system running, he explicitly refuses to suggest any brighter path, any alternative to this abasement. But most of us simply don’t inhabit the shallow, desperate world of aesthetic torment that he portrays: We’re skeptical in the face of sales pitches and have the self-confident curiosity to select our own truths from the cornucopia of images that consumer culture foists on us. So, in the end, Harris’ eloquent tirade testifies less to the hideousness of consumerism than to his own consuming disgruntlement.

Greg Villepique plays guitar in the band Aerial Love Feed.MORE GREG VILLEPIQUE.