Roses need water, nutrients, and sunlight to exist — to thrive. All of that unfolds through the act of consumption. But the story doesn’t end there.
The plant, in return, becomes a shelter for insects, a food source for birds, and a fragrance for humans. What it takes in, it eventually transforms and offers back.
It’s a quiet reminder: nature is not greedy — it’s generous through its design. The environment invests in itself, so it can benefit from itself — in another form, in another time, through another being.
It’s an act of alchemy — shapeshifting through space and time.
History of Consumerism
Consumerism, as a concept, began to take shape in Europe during the late 17th and early 18th centuries, coinciding with the rise of capitalism, industrialization, and colonial trade. The growth of mass production and access to global goods fostered a shift from consumption based on necessity to consumption as a marker of social status and personal identity.
By the 20th century—especially after World War II—consumerism became deeply ingrained in Western culture through advertising, mass media, and credit systems, encouraging people to equate happiness, success, and identity with the acquisition of material goods.
(For a deeper dive into the history of consumerism, check out Empire of Things by Frank Trentmann.)
The goal of consumerism has often been to make people feel perpetually dissatisfied with their current lives so they keep seeking more. In 1955, economist Victor Lebow stated:
“Our enormously productive economy demands that we make consumption our way of life, that we convert the buying and use of goods into rituals, that we seek our spiritual satisfaction and our ego satisfaction in consumption.”
Do we truly understand why we consume the way we do? Or the intentions driving those behind it? I wanted to explore the deeper meaning behind our patterns of consumption, so I did what I usually do—I conducted social research on the matter.
PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS – WHY DO WE CONSUME?
I think that, in some areas, many people participate in the mass production of digital content as a means of financial survival. Others do it for social currency, while some create it from a desire to be seen and heard—seeking connection and community. However, how those intentions are conveyed can differ significantly from how they are perceived by the audience consuming the content.
Fear of Missing Out (FOMO)
Over-consumption often places people in a scarcity mindset. Take, for instance, advertising strategies that promote limited-time sales on limited items. Most of us flock to these deals, not out of need, but because of a manufactured sense of urgency. This is often a tactic to push us into purchasing things we didn’t originally intend to buy.
Invidious Comparisons
Humans often engage in invidious comparisons—buying things not for personal fulfillment, but to impress or spite others. I’ve noticed throughout my life that many people overconsume as a result of this dynamic. We aren’t buying products out of need; we’re buying out of comparison or competition.
We participate in fleeting trends that fade faster than the products themselves. Acting from a place of invidious comparison can indicate a lack of emotional intelligence—a disconnection from our emotional bodies. It becomes a way to signal superiority, which in turn leads to a cycle of consumption and chronic dissatisfaction.
Superficial Fulfillment and the Invisible Ladder
Consider the example of billionaires. The inequality and greed embedded in our global systems only fuel consumerism further. It sells the illusion that happiness and fulfillment are tied to reaching a specific—often unattainable—level of success.
A song that comes to mind is “Learning” by Jordan Rakei, which, to me, speaks about these very inequalities and the subconscious programming within society. He sings:
“There’s a ladder to the sky where dreams are left up high / Still find all of those fail to make the steady climb.”
This suggests the existence of a social ladder—a form of social stratification—where only a few make it to the top. The system is designed this way. The song also emphasizes self-introspection and the importance of forming a relationship with oneself to understand our true nature beyond society’s masquerades. I encourage you to give it a listen.
This system encourages people to sell their dreams to fulfill someone else’s. We’re given an image—a blueprint—we’re expected to live up to. Some people are tasked with designing the ladder, others with holding it up so someone else can climb. And some—like our ancestors—were the ladder itself, exploited for another’s rise
Think back to colonial times, when people of color were ripped from their homelands and forced to build empires using their own stolen resources. They didn’t just construct the ladder—they were the ladder.
RESEARCH FINDINGS
Internal Research – I Am the Subject
Something interesting happened the first day I went out to collect data from the public. I set out with the intention of engaging with people, but when I got to the venue, I wasn’t feeling up to it. I felt gloomy, moody, and withdrawn. I realized I didn’t want to be around people that day.
I tried to pull myself together, but failed. I listened to my mind instead of my heart. I felt guilty for not honoring my emotional state. So, I resorted to shopping—hoping it would lift my mood, almost like bribing myself for “failing.” I participated in what’s commonly called retail therapy.
Many of us do this—shop to feel better. We feed into advertising’s prophecy that we are not enough as we are, so we consume to feel whole.
As I headed home, guilty and overspent, I realized something crucial: I wasn’t just the researcher—I was the research. I was both the interviewer and interviewee.
It became clear to me that I tend to overconsume when I’m not strong or comfortable enough to sit with myself. This realization took me down a rabbit hole—highlighting how consumption becomes a self-deprecating mechanism, disguised as self-care.
Advertising and Psychological Manipulation
Marketing psychology spends extensive time and energy studying how to manipulate the human brain—figuring out which emotions and hormones to trigger to entice us into wanting more.
External Interviews and Reflections
In the following weeks, I was able to gather more input from different people. As expected, the responses varied, but a common thread emerged: we are all somewhat aware of the implications of over-consumption—even if we don’t always act on that awareness.
Satisfying the Inner Child / Unfulfilled Desires
I had a thought-provoking conversation with Mihlali, one of the people I interviewed. He shared that many people tend to overconsume in adulthood to fulfill desires they couldn’t access in childhood—especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds. It’s often about tending to the needs of the inner child that once went unseen or unheard.
I resonated with that. But then he said something that lingered:
“It’s only addiction if you can’t afford it.”
I didn’t quite know how to respond in the moment—it caught me off guard. Yet, the statement stayed with me long after our conversation ended.
On the surface, it highlights how addiction is sometimes viewed through a class lens—where affordability masks dysfunction. But I couldn’t help but reflect on how addiction, at its core, isn’t merely about how much one can afford, but why one engages in a certain behavior in the first place.
By definition, addiction is a compulsive engagement with a substance or behavior despite negative consequences. To me, that highlights something deeper—a behavioral and emotional pattern, not just a financial threshold. A person can have the means to sustain their habit, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re free from the psychological grip it may have on them.
People often reach for substances, food, shopping, or any other outlet to soothe emotional wounds or to escape inner discomfort—regardless of class or income. While I understand where Mihlali was coming from—perhaps pointing to the social dynamics that determine how addiction is perceived—I also believe we need to look beyond affordability and ask what unmet need the behavior is trying to soothe.
In addition, I spoke to a boutique worker named Ruth, who mentioned that one of their clients shops three times a week to escape marital problems. She refers to it as therapy. And suddenly, it made sense:
If we call it therapy, we don’t see it as overconsumption. If you can afford it, it’s not addiction—right?
Status and Class
Others spoke about consumerism as a way to buy into social status. Simphiwe shared an interesting take:
“We are wired to want more—more security, more comfort, more status. It’s a survival mechanism that helped us hoard food for winter, but now makes us hoard sneakers, gadgets, and fast fashion.”
This insight rang true. What you value becomes your currency—and currency is linked to status. Every social group has its own internal value system. That’s why some people place immense importance on things others see as superficial.
Yes, we all carry an element of gluttony within us, but that doesn’t mean we must indulge every impulse. Acting on every urge pulls us into our animalistic nature—and ultimately brings chaos into our lives.
SOLUTION: SHOULD WE CEASE CREATING TO STOP OVERCONSUMERISM?
The answer isn’t to stop creating — creation is not the enemy.
But perhaps, the call is to pause and remember why we consume in the first place.
“We owe it to ourselves to have the human decency to decide for ourselves,” Mbali said — a soft but firm reminder that conscious choice still belongs to us.
We each carry different values — some align with others, some don’t. That’s part of our human tapestry. But the real wound appears when we start believing our value comes from what we have, instead of who we are.
As I once wrote: “Possessions are accessories, not the main piece.”
Yet many of us have it backward, adorning ourselves with things, hoping they’ll make us feel whole.
Maybe, as Jordan Rakei sings, it’s time to “run away from the rest of the world” —
not to escape, but to create space to relearn ourselves,
to consume with intention and purpose, not pressure and comparison.
What if we crafted our own social ladders, set our own thresholds,
and lived by the rhythm of our own values — unapologetically and honestly?
The solution isn’t silence — it’s discernment.
Not less expression, but more intention.
Not no creation, but a return to meaning.
CALL TO ACTION
What do you consume, and why? What consumes you in return?
I’d love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to comment down below your thoughts or to send your responses to admin@naturesjournals.com. Alternatively, you can WhatsApp us at +27797280317.
REFERENCES:
- Trentmann, F. (2016). Empire of Things: How We Became a World of Consumers, from the Fifteenth Century to the Twenty-First. Harper.
- Jordan Rakei – Learning (from the album Origin, 2019)
With Gratitude:
Special thanks to Mbail, Ruth, Mihlali, Simphiwe and all contributors whose thoughts, perspectives, and presence helped shape the essence of this reflection.
All photos in this blog are captured through the lens of Jeneska.
