The United States culturally endorses, markets and sexualizes consumption as a concept. On its face, capitalism boasts mass-produced efficiency as the solution for the world’s needs. However, consumers are often deeply disconnected from the information needed to make an ethical choice. They are subjected to choosing between a rock and a hard place when purchasing any item. Often, we stand flabbergasted as capitalism co-opts and consumes everything substantial about the human experience. As capitalism inhales our values like oxygen and exhales them like carbon dioxide — directly into our atmosphere.   

In meeting our basic needs, the normalization of overconsumption becomes easily overlooked and ingrained in our culture. Some notable examples are alcohol, clothing and food. Each of these examples, which are simultaneous necessities or preferences at their core, have been turned into major markets constituting billions of dollars.    

Being a college student, it’s common knowledge amongst my peers that seltzers are terrible and hard alcohol is only good when mixed. Wines are stigmatized as being for older people despite being delicious. The main point: St. Lawrence University is notorious for its drinking culture. And so, having decided to be    

(ideally) sober, the excessive alcohol consumption here made me question the inherent normalization involved. Our campus copes with the pressures of academia, sports and life by binge drinking alcohol on the weekends. The substance’s integration into the cultural identity of this university was overwhelmingly normalized from the start of my experience here.   

I would also like to express that I endorse moderate, safe consumption of substances as a form of stress relief. But the choice to distance myself from this product, especially one so desired by youth and abused by adults in the United States, is one that separated me from my peers. This same choice also gave me some perspective. For example, my friends and I have prioritized spending healthy enrichment time together. In the past, we involved substances in our gatherings, where most relate on a deeper level. I often wonder how we have been led to believe that these substances add to enriching life experiences together.  

Another example of this consumption is fashion. Overconsumption of clothing can be traced to fast fashion, an industry worth over 100 billion dollars, according to a 2023 PBS article by Ali Rogin and Harry Zahn. Clothing, having been marketed as an identity choice rather than a fundamental need, has created an entire cycle of consumption and waste production unprecedented in history. We breathe clothes in like oxygen and dispose of them as fast as an exhale. As such, mass-produced clothes end up in landfills, incinerated, or in the ocean, according to a 2019 NYT article by Tatiana Schlossberg: “About 85 percent of textile waste in the United States goes to landfills or is incinerated.”   

And lastly, food waste in our country is also consumed and disposed of at unprecedented rates. According to the Food Waste and Food Rescue Organization, 119 billion pounds of food is wasted in the United States, akin to 408 billion dollars in food. The USDA supports this with food security data from 2021. Based on this website, we simultaneously have a huge rate of food insecurity in the United States: “12.8 percent (17.0 million) of U.S. households were food insecure at some time during 2022.” These facts are intrinsically connected to our ideology around consumption.   

Ideologies are the foundations upon which our consumer actions are based. We are methodologically justified in consuming everything in our path. This is best outlined when we look at ideologies outside of free-market capitalism. Most cultures, even historical ones, had deeper ideas about simple things. Alcohol was ritualistic, clothes were made by hand, and food was sacred. While not endorsing all historical meanings, we should reflect on the harm caused by diluting the significance of our quick purchases.   

We look to capitalism to define us, to feed us and to clothe us. And in return, we offer up our deep meaning-making and connections to the natural world in exchange.    

Here at St. Lawrence, we have our solutions to these larger societal issues. The Greenhouse and CKP both address conscious consumption around food, one from an intentional livelihood standpoint and another from a food insecure community standpoint, respectively. The Barista seeks to promote sober events on campus. Another newer student organization, The River Club, looks to mindfully discuss addictions and consumption on campus within a judgment-free zone. Lastly, SLU Close the Loop, based out of Barn Thrift Good, looks to limit clothing waste on campus.    

I think it’s important to remember that, in many ways, we have methods of showing love, meaning and community that exist outside of this consumptive ideology. We are more than the products we purchase and our ability to consume within a market incentive. Our culture is a funny type of loss, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find our way back to meaning once again.