A Good Rant

I haven't had a good rant for a while, so here goes ...

There's an ad on TV at the moment which raises my blood pressure every time I see it: the advertisement for Visa's new pay wave system - you know the one, where rows of good little consumers all proceed at a steady pace through a lunch servery, choosing the same sandwich, flicking their ties/crossing their legs at the same time; all very ordered, very smooth, each swiping their credit card past the check out machine, one by one - until one selfish consumer has the temerity to choose to pay using cash, the ensuing pause causing a disturbance of the peace, disharmony and affront to all.

I fear that the image this ad portrays, this utilitarian 'paradise' in which we members of society docilely consume, is in fact a reflection of our culture - a sad indictment, rather than a whimsical satire; a symbol of tragedy, rather than something to be smiled at. I suspect that, like the people in this ad, many of us do go about our purchasing mindlessly ... and I believe that, in doing this, we are morally culpable for the results of our actions.

Such an easy thing, to wave a piece of plastic past a sensor; a simple, hands-free option – but, in this context, our hands are rarely clean. When we buy cheap clothing, do we consider that we are most likely supporting slave-like working conditions for some of our fellow human beings? If we buy meat, do we empathise with the suffering of the once-living animals we're going to consume? If we purchase cosmetic products presented in an excess of plastic packaging, do we consider how this will contribute to landfill?

I count myself part of this complicity, of course; I have no right to the moral high ground here. And trying to remove oneself from this dystopia can be difficult. A few years ago, I went through a phase of making rather than buying clothes, hoping thereby to stop contributing to the plight of underpaid clothing workers. I found a simple skirt pattern and would spend money on lengths of lovely cloth, creating a steady stream of work clothes ... until, getting dressed one morning, I realized with horror that I was putting on a skirt with an embroidered pattern on it. I bet pixies weren't responsible for that!

Despite having no claim to the high moral ground here, I can still wish for a world in which we (I!) were not so mindless, so heartless, in our consumption.

If I were drawing a line here (which I'm not: to do so would be hypocritical), what might I be calling for?

A solution won’t come out of writings like this, dry re-presentations of those unpalatable truths we are surely aware of, even if we try to ignore them. It is naive to think these issues in our society might go away simply by dreaming of another way, wishing for a new future. Yet, perhaps, that is where the solution begins: in not only knowing the ramifications of our purchases, but feeling the impact we are having on others’ lives; not only understanding how our seemingly-trivial decisions play out beyond our kitchens and bathrooms, but – even if only in our imaginations – suffering alongside the people, creatures, environments which our purchasing fingers leave grubby marks on.

The solutions might come from new stories, new imaginings, which capture the hearts of consumers, which transform the hearers by their tellings. I’m thinking of stories like Jeanette Winterson’s “The Stone Gods”; Doris Lessing’s “Shikasta”; the documentary “Food Inc”; or simply stories from the heart which connect us to the consequences of our actions.