A feeling of dejection is not uncommon in the first few weeks of the year, when many of us are left clearing up the Christmas mess and wondering why the gifts we received have not made us any happier. The answer is clear, according to James Wallman, who blames a clutter crisis for a myriad of modern-day problems, including rising levels of stress, global warming and even an increase in deaths caused by house fires.
Anyone who bore witness to the retail chaos of Black Friday, when shoppers bickered and fought over cut-price TVs and toasters, may have trouble accepting Wallman’s view that we are falling out of love with materialism. Yet surveys carried out in a selection of rich-world countries suggest that people have, indeed, become less materialistic since the 1970s. Whether or not respondents are saying one thing and doing another, there seems to be a growing appetite for alternatives to the typical consumer lifestyle.
Some of these are already well known. Minimalists the author meets have chosen frugality over excess as a status marker, competing against one another to see who can make do with the fewest worldly possessions. The 19th-century author Henry David Thoreau was an early advocate of the “simple life”, spending two years in a log cabin in the Massachusetts wilderness with a handful of utensils and the local wildlife for company. A newer concept is the “medium chill”, whose proponents have rejected the live-to-work philosophy of the consumer age to enjoy more time at leisure with friends and family.`
While each of these remedies has its attractions, none is ideal, writes Wallman. Minimalism is too negative, the simple life is too boring and the medium chill lacks the aspirational quality that would give it more widespread appeal. But he draws inspiration from them in developing his own big idea, recommending that we devote our energy and resources to the pursuit of fulfilling experiences rather than the accumulation of useless products. Experientialism, as he calls it, will define our future just as materialism has shaped our present.
None of this is especially groundbreaking. “Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need,” said Brad Pitt as Tyler Durden in the 1999 film Fight Club. Yet Wallman rails against materialism more constructively than Durden and with just as much vehemence. Experientialism – of the kind that does not involve bare-knuckle fighting and acts of sabotage – could bring us closer together, improve our wellbeing and reduce waste.
It has gained its fair share of followers already. The experience economy, which makes money from staging events, is growing faster than either the manufacturing or service sectors. Technology adoption is further testament to experientialism’s popularity. Facebook has based a global business on our desire to share details of exciting experiences. Apple’s iTunes store allows customers to watch movies and listen to music without having to buy DVDs and CDs. Stuffocation itself was an e-book until Penguin acquired print rights earlier this year (given Wallman’s aversion to stuff, it should perhaps have remained so).
It is hard, though, to agree wholeheartedly with the author that experientialism is a cure-all for society’s ills. International travel, a popular manifestation of experientialism, looks as environmentally suspect as manufacturing. Many experiences may carry intrinsic value but make no direct contribution to a country’s economic prosperity, unlike any material purchase. Along with several other zeitgeist writers, Wallman believes there is too much emphasis on GDP growth as a measure of progress, and yet stagnant economies are typically unsettled. To his credit, Wallman recognises experientialism’s flaws while praising its virtues. For those whose January feels like one long hangover, it could seem like the perfect medicine.
Stuffocation: Living More With Less is published by Penguin, £9.99. Click here to buy it for £7.99
