Individual consumption and the end of the world
13/01/2026
Nice title, isn’t it? Has a nice ring to it.
With occasion of these festive dates, I bought myself a ten-pair set of socks and a sweater. And from another member of the family, I got a set of boxers. Because I went to a little basketry workshop where my wife and I made a pair of baskets, I went ahead and bought three more baskets from the instructors, and this year’s presents for my family came from non-denominational Mr. Winter inside a nice handmade basket for each of us in the family.
I think those baskets were the things my wife and I liked the most of all of them, but probably nobody else appreciated them. So it goes these days, right?
I don’t know if the consummerism of these dates is what started making me think of it, but regardless of how it started, I’ve been thinking about my purchasing habits. And I’ve realized that, in a lot of ways, I’m already behaving, on that front, as if the industrial complex that feeds us with endless crap to buy had already collapsed.
Picture a post-apocalyptic world. Factories closed long ago, no new products are being sold, the intricate global networks needed to produce and ship a pencil to your local Dollar-store-equivalent imploded years ago. The only things you can purchase are what was already produced, and whatever you can find in second hand stores.
Of course, in such a scenario, one would try to keep their current possessions working for as long as possible. Repair the bicycle you already have, because that factory in China is not sending any new ones. And hold tight to that laptop. Hope those jeans you bought won’t desintegrate at the third use like all the others. And so on and so forth.
So, anyway, with of course a lot of exceptions (we’re not really living in a post-capitalism world, after all), I’ve realized that my spending habits wouldn’t be too different from those of someone in such a scenario. At least from the point of view of “leisure spending”. I’m not at the point of dumpster diving and foraging for food. Not usually, at least.
I don’t remember when was the previous time I bought clothes. I’m still using pants I got almost 20 years ago, sweatshirts I bought at festivals 12 years ago, wearing stuff that my wife knitted, or someone gifted me. Driving a second-hand 20 year old van (and not really driving it much, to tell the truth), using a 125cc scooter I bought 20 years ago when weather permits, fixed the bicycle my parents got me in the nineties (gotta confess I bought myself a newer one around 12 years ago, too. I still think of this one as my “new bike”), and am typing this on a laptop I bought, second hand, from my previous employer when I switched jobs. It was already clearly second hand when they sent it to me :D.
This last weekend, I bought (second hand!) a dozen of Jules Verne novels, and previously I got another couple of second hand books about music. Last year, on a visit to the UK, we had to borrow an extra suitcase to bring back with us the dozen or so books (“at least!”, points my wife) we bought on charity shops while there.
Another aspect I’ve been prioritizing a lot when facing the need (or want, let’s be honest) to buy something is: how many external inputs does this thing need to keep functioning? In an era of gadgets that require not only electricity, but even continuous internet connection (or a subscription!) to work, I have grown to dislike such dependencies. As a teenager, I was ecstatic when my parents bought me an electric guitar (It was a very cheap generic “Gibson Les Paul” knock-off, from the “Rok Axe” brand :D). Recently, when I decided that I am now a grownup, and can decide how I spend my money, and wanted to learn how to play the piano, at first I started with an electronic keyboard I borrowed, but then I decided I wanted to have a proper one. So I bought (second hand!) myself an upright acoustic piano. Perhaps technically worse in every aspect than an electronic piano, except in one: It requires no electricity to work. You don’t even have to turn it off when you are done!
And, nowadays, my favourite guitar is an acoustic one, second hand of course, that I found next to the dump and rescued. It looked new, with all its strings and even case included (looked in fact much better than the first acoustic guitar I had…). As a society, we really need to cut back our production and consumption of crap that we then just throw away without a second thought.
All of this didn’t really start with a conscious decision, but I guess several things converged to, eventually, model the way I spend money. Among the reasons I could think of you can find:
- a “discovery” of environmentalism and sustainability (I have to thank lowtechmagazine for starting to change my worldview, all those years ago. I wish I could remember when I discovered that website)
- getting fed up (or never really liking) with this current “subscription” model
- getting fed up with, broadly speaking, the physical quality of the stuff being produced lately. From clothes that rip apart if you look at them wrong, to plastic tools that break in your hands, to shoes that desintegrate after a couple days’ use…
- becoming aware of a world that demands we keep buying more and more crap that we don’t really need so the whole house of cards don’t crumble
- and, well, you get it. I’m an old fart just getting tired of this brave new world, I guess
Low Tech Magazine
We also have cancelled all the “entertainment subscriptions” we had (I think, at one point or another, we had the Big Mouse, Netflix, and … amazon video? not sure even what’s called. We really got to the point of hating not having anything to show for it if we stopped paying. “well, I’ve thrown away more than a hundred euros this year on that. Better keep throwing money at it”…), and effectively have “blacklisted” amazon. This decision came after we realized it’s unwise to keep giving our money to one of the richest idiots in the world, than he then uses to buy newspapers and spread billionaire propaganda. No, thanks.
So, yeah, I’m not sure where I thought I was going with all this, to be honest. Maybe that’s my message to the world: the next time you are about to buy something, ask yourself some questions:
- how would this thing I’m purchasing fit in an end-of-the-world scenario?
- will this survive the end of the world?
- can I still use this thing after some years? (or worse, can I use it if I stop paying a subscription?)
- can I fix it if it breaks?
- do I really need it, or can I fix the thing I was going to replace?
- Do I need to buy it new, forcing the production of more new crap, or could I find it second-hand?
I fully understand that the money I’m not giving Amazon, or Disney, or Netflix is but a drop in the ocean. And the amount of crap “not produced” because I refuse to buy things I don’t need is minuscule.
But I also find myself not missing anything. I don’t feel I’m “suffering” for my lack of Netflix. I was happier when I found that perfectly good guitar than I would have been buying a fancy one. I really, really, don’t need or want a smartwatch, or wireless headphones that then I have to plug and charge. Or a smart TV (when the TV we had stopped working, I bought some LED lamps to try and fix it. When that didn’t work, we realized that … we didn’t need or want a TV, we could watch DVDs and video files from a laptop. Go figure). And, in a way, that lack of desire for having more, new things, looks a bit, if you squint and look at it this way and that, like happines.
On the other hand, it has made it very difficult for people to think of something to gift me. My wife would, when my birthday is nearing, directly ask me what do I want. And I usually reply with “well, I don’t need anyhing, and my hobbies are covered”. Some relatives of her find this a bit infuriating when we’re visiting for Christmas or so :D
One last question I ask myself when buying something is: Who am I really supporting by giving them my money? Do they already have too much money? can I find somebody else I could support instead? And sometimes I do that.
Anyway, this concludes my talk “the buyer’s guide to the end of the world”. As usual, it got a bit rambly, and this can give you, reader, a peak inside my chaotic mind. Hope you didn’t get scared. It could also have been titled “how can one, as ethically as possibly, live through this hellish late stage capitalism?”, and the TLDR could be: realize that buying “leisure” things won’t make you automatically happy. Find the bad actors, and give them nothing. Share your stuff, borrow stuff from friends. Rescue things. It might not make a huge difference, but at least for me, lets me say “well, at least I tried to not make things worse”.
Maybe some other day we can talk about making things with one’s own hands, fixing stuff, and the satisfaction that can be gained from those activities.
Tags: consumerism, money, ramblings
consumerism
money
ramblings
Edited on 2026-01-13
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