Author: George Monbiot
Publication: The Guardian
Date: December 28, 2000
The more we consume,
the happier we will be. Or so we like to believe. But for the
planet, it's disastrous
The modern industrial
economy works like this: resources are dug from a hole in the ground on
one side of the planet, used for a few weeks, then dumped in a hole on
the other side of the planet. This is known as the "creation of value".
The creation of value improves our quality of life. Improvements
in our quality of life make us happier. The more we transfer from
hole to hole, the happier we become.
Unfortunately, we are
not yet transferring enough. According to the Worldwatch Institute,
we have used more goods and services since 1950 than in all the rest of
human history. But we still don't seem to be happy. Indeed,
over the same period, 25-year-olds in Britain have become 10 times more
likely to be afflicted by depression.
One in four British adults
now suffers from a chronic lack of sleep, and one fifth of schoolchildren
have psychological problems. Over the past 13 years, mental health
insurance claims have risen by 36%. American studies suggest that
between 40% and 60% of the population suffers from mental illness in any
one year. The World Health Organisation predicts that by 2010 depression
will become the second commonest disease in the developed world.
Unless we start consuming in earnest, we'll never experience real joy.
At this time of year
the rate of consumption rises dramatically. To make ourselves happier,
we move resources from one hole to another as quickly as possible.
My local authority reports that the amount of rubbish people take to the
dump increases by 12% in December and January. Curiously, however,
the incidence of depression also seems to rise. Calls to the Samaritans
increase by 8% between Christmas and New Year's Day. But the figures
are misleading. The more depressed we are, the more we spend on antidepressants
and alcohol. The more we spend, as any economist will explain to
you, the happier we become.
A few Christmases ago,
I was given a kettle, which now leaks. I could mend it, but one of
the screws has a star-shaped slot with a spike in the middle, which is
designed to prevent repairs, as no available tool will fit it. My
kettle was for Christmas, not just for life. So I will throw it away,
and help to build an earthly paradise by buying a new one.
From the dumps and incinerators
in which our broken presents, our uncomposted Christmas trees and unrecyclable
packaging are deposited, goodwill spreads inexorably. Among other
benefits, the disposal of rubbish supports the medical profession.
Babies born within three kilometres of toxic landfill sites, according
to research published in the Lancet, are more likely to suffer from abnormalities
than babies born elsewhere. Incinerators release dioxins and heavy
metals, which cause cancer, birth defects and endometriosis. This
creates jobs and increases the flow of money in the economy, adding to
the sum of human happiness.
Though the UN's figures
seek to suggest otherwise, British people are surely happier than people
in poorer lands, because more of our needs are met. Indeed, advertisers
help us to answer needs we never knew we had, by revealing that our lives
are less satisfactory than we thought. When I was 18, male face creams
came on to the market. Until that point, we boys had no idea that
our skin was ageing prematurely. Since then, men have been introduced
to many of the improvements that women have enjoyed for so long.
We have discovered that we are uglier, spottier, fatter and more inadequate
than we could ever have imagined. And, by moving more resources between
holes in the ground, we can do something about it.
The consumer society
serves the poor better than anyone else, as it both exposes the grottiness
of their lives and kindly provides the means with which they can escape
from it. In some cases, as a report by the National Association of
Citizens' Advice Bureaux revealed earlier this month, the interest on their
happiness rises to as much as 1,800% a year, spreading good cheer among
the many thousands of people the loan recovery business employs.
As the banks and manufacturers, shops and economists remind us, our quest
for happiness is boundless.
As always, and particularly
at this time of year, someone tries to spoil the fun. And, predictably
enough, the greens are moaning that the planet is dying of consumption.
People, they say, are being pushed off their lands by the digging of holes,
the felling of forests and the growing of cash crops; eco-systems are being
poisoned and resources exhausted; the Earth is overheating, because so
much energy is required to move its components from one hole to another.
But I would ask them this: isn't the death of the planet a price worth
paying for the happiness we now enjoy?
