The recent controversy about the auto bailout has revealed a disturbing truth to me: our economy, indeed, our very society, is based on the constant replacement of consumer goods with newer versions. I don’t believe I’m wrong in believing it’s a large part of the problem. Yes, we’re buying a lot of foreign cars, and American autoworkers may make more than their counterparts at other factories, but we’re also not buying new cars often enough. Two-year leases anticipate this need, a perceived obsolescence. One is led to believe that a new car is more technologically advanced, has better handling, and is safer. It is a positive statement about your intelligence and consumer savvy. Even better, it will add to your sex appeal, popularity and your very happiness. And this promise is not specific to just the auto industry. It cuts across every consumer product category. If your cell phone doesn’t have the latest features, do you somehow feel cheated? Don’t you want to upgrade it? Upgrade your life?

I noticed the other day that there’s even a men’s magazine called ‘œThe Upgrader,’ which provides ‘œbetter living through better stuff.’   Surely I’m on to something here if an entire publication is based on this assumption. It’s an insidious pressure placed on us by clever marketers leveraging our hunter/gatherer instincts, our sense of self and our vanity. One hears it everywhere. ‘œDid you see the new (insert item here)? You just have to!’   ‘œClothes make the man.’   Perish the thought that you’re ‘œso two seasons ago.’   No, not your clothes’”you! It’s very deeply ingrained in our society and is communicated to us in many ways. I still remember the ‘œPatty Duke’ episode (obviously it was a re-run’”I’m not that old) where she shows up at a party in a dress the hostess donated to a charity thrift shop. OMG! Patty was so mortified, as were we on her behalf.   Her dress wasn’t just old, but it had actually been discarded. I never forgot it. Yeah, I guess that’s kind of strange, but I’m trying to make a point here.

We sought refuge when we built our second home some years ago. It was to be a sanctuary, and that also meant it being an escape from the pressures of the modern world. We would avoid the constant one-upsmanship of the Hamptons or Fire Island. So we built a modest log home in the mountains and furnished it with things from bygone eras (which is totally not my style). I thought it could be a little like Lucy and Ricky go to the mountains. We were going for nostalgia.

In the country we have a charming 1935 refrigerator that embodies this desire. The same woman owned it from the time it was new to the time she died at age 80. Did she wrestle with the desire for a larger freezer or a more stylish exterior? Did she feel deprived of the convenience of frost-free operation? I can’t imagine that she didn’t think about these things from time to time. Still, she persevered. She was of a different generation with different priorities. In contrast, I was not so secretly excited when I thought our Viking refrigerator in the city was broken after seven years of use. Maybe I could finally get the Sub Zero with the glass doors. I mean, it’s so much neater, sexier even. Besides, the ‘œold’ one is probably not as energy efficient as the newer ones. Didn’t I read that somewhere?

But in the country, I thought I could escape these feelings. Or so I thought. Inconvenience and habit wore me down. So even in the country, miles from our life in the city, the idea of not having a television wore thin. So did the tiny set we first bought as a compromise, a concession that was eventually replaced with a HDTV. The claw foot tub s is cute, but wouldn’t a steam shower be more convenient and pampering? The spring fed lake is kind of cold, even in the summer. Wouldn’t we get so much more use out of a heated pool?   It became increasingly easier to rationalize the constant upgrading of existing items. The idea that the country was the one place where we could escape the pressure to constantly upgrade has become more symbolic than reality. I make the choice. No one is holding a gun to my head, at least literally. But is it happening figuratively? Is it actually societal pressure, or are the messages we receive from marketers simply directed at our internal wiring? I also wonder if it is worse in the gay and lesbian community. As we struggle to define our identities and place in society does society place additional pressure to upgrade on us? Does what we need have to be ‘œbetter than’ just so we can feel ‘œas good?’

I can’t help but wonder if all this will change in light of the current economic climate. Will our perception of what is cutting edge or unfashionable, modern or obsolete, change by necessity? Will being thrifty be lauded rather than derided? Will we be content with what we have and recognize our good fortune to have so comparatively much in this world? Or is it just human nature to want more and better things? I’m inclined to believe it’s a bit of both. Nature and nurture.

Do you know what’s really sad? Despite myself, I wrestle with the idea of replacing the 1935 refrigerator.

Photo credit: stock.xchng.