In spite of the major critique of mass market consumerism by Naomi Klein and others at the end of the last millennium buy-your-dreams consumerism, as satirized by the choosy chimp on the book cover, is still with us and growing as more previously immune cultures join the frenzy and the Internet opens more windows on consumable goods. In this new critique of consumer values Vancouver author Harris offers a counter-vision of life based on the more elevated values of what he terms "craft, sublimity and care." He begins his book with a visit to a British Columbia landfill site from which the
highlights remaining to readers are likely to be the fastidious eagles swooping down
for whatever in the heap captivates their parasitic fancies and the flowery shoots
on the summit planted by a maternal landfill keeper. Life goes on, as we say. But
for how long, Harris "omenizes" as he tours a temple of consumer discards, where
huddle together the losers in our persistence of the un-fittest marathon. Will the will to continue survive the relics
of this and previous continuations?
As part of this philosophically pregnant reflection on what
he calls the mono-myth of consumer culture Harris asks readers to wonder to what
extent the advertising saturated culture we live in in the so-called developed
world meets our need for the three core values he considers essential to lives
well lived: craft, the skill and capacity to participate with sensitivity to
the material world, the sublime, a humble recognition of our human limitations
before the vast scale and power of the world we inhabit, and care, a selfless
giving to others, like sick parents, from whom no tangible reward can be expected or received. For Harris, craft,
the sublime and care are the core elements of a more profound and worthy life
than that offered by the consumerism that drenches much of our lives. Together
they constitute a standard for living value-centred lives that extends beyond well
intended habits of recycling materials, holidaying in woodlands or funding nursing homes for the aged. They are existentially necessary for our self-respect
and survival.
Since the advent of the industrial age in the 19th
century many have outlined the dangers
of consumer based civilization to our spiritual health. Harris reminds us what
is at stake for us humans and the challenges of reclaiming civilization from
the ravages of consumers’ seemingly endless appetite for more. At some point
our extractions exceed our world’s ability to regenerate. TorontotheBetter was created to facilitate forms
of production and living dedicated to the social and economic values of community,
ecology and mutuality. A social economy that supports such goals is conducive
to the realization of the values of craft, the sublime and caring that Harris
identifies in his aspirationally important
book, but it can never replace the morality that energizes them. Can we consume
ourselves out of consumption? Can we
sustain enough to support the sustainability
we need to survive is the question Harris leaves us with. Our growing landfills
on earth and beyond suggest an answer that amounts to passing the buck, that is
leaving resolution to other people and places, however large our world may be
and however many other worlds may await to be trash filled. Prettifying trash
may pique our conscience but our conscience needs living bodies and minds to harbour
it in the ever mounting sea of refuse we feed.
