Rethinking Lifestyle

Being raised in a low-income family has shaped the way I see the world, partly for the better but also for the worse. On the one hand, it gave me a strong tendency to seek out value in things that others didn’t necessarily see. A broken bike or a used toy, for example had more value to me than to some of my schoolmates who had more. To this day, I can’t look at a discarded item without thinking that there is certainly still some use for it. But my upbringing also had another effect, which was to set my mental compass on a new North: getting the “Great Deal”. I doubt that I am alone in this.

I think most readers of this article would agree that the highest aim of human endeavour is not scoring a sweet deal, but our daily thoughts tell another story. Over the last ten years, I’ve begun to take notice of where my attention is fixed, and I’ve come to the conclusion that, in some ways I’m exactly like my dog. Like any dog, Maybyn was on a constant search for some new olfactory delight. When this city dog discovered the compost pile [angels singing] on my yard, she had a new fixation. Whatever she found there at her first visit, it triggered a reward response that her animal brain locked onto and could not shake. Her compass had found a new North, and every time she left the house, her first and immediate stop was the compost pile. I recognized this behaviour in myself when I found a great deal at Princess Auto, or at the perennially yellow-tagged Canadian Tire. I realized that a disproportionate amount of my attention was being hijacked by advertising – fluffing up the compost pile to invite me back. And the reward for me is the Great Deal.

But the dog was happy – so why not me? Well, as I became aware of this automatic behaviour, I realized how many of my conversations – and those of others – centred around a theme of “look at this great deal I got”. I was buying and thinking about things that were less than unimportant – they were costing me money to stimulate a reward response. But perhaps most frustrating and difficult to change of all is the way I make my decisions and measure my success. I know that organic and local food production keeps money in my community, creates jobs, increases rather than decreases soil fertility, protects other species and is healthier for me. But SuperStore wins because it’s cheaper. I also know that adding insulation to my house and installing solar panels will dramatically reduce my energy consumption. But it won’t increase my house value enough to justify it. I want to do these things but I simply spend too much time at the compost pile.

Well, I’m done waiting for the right thing to make financial sense. Money is still an object – it’s just not the object. I’ve learned enough how to save money by living simply and spending wisely, so that there is no reason to fawn over the cheapness of consumer culture. With the money I don’t spend on the “compost pile”, I can afford Ten Thousand Villages fair trade. For the airplane fuel I didn’t burn going to Ottawa, I bought an electric bike to commute to work. The “Great Deal” has prevented me from doing what I believed was right, because I needed it to be financially advantageous. But things like community, a pristine environment, and personal responsibility never go on sale.