Being a Consumer

"Consider the Lobster." Not just the crustacean. Perhaps today he is the teenager working in some far-away sweatshop on the shirt you are going to buy in a few months (with money your parents will give you), so his little sister won't go hungry. He's your age, but money is money. Or maybe today the lobster is a $3,000 coat in the back room of Bloomingdale's, which was 60 minks not too long ago. A sad sacrifice, but it had to be made.

Of course, the boy's situation is most likely a side-effect of his country's malfunctioning economy. Though we bring him money, it's barely enough to keep him coming to work every day (hence the foreign sweatshop, and not a domestic producer, though there's a fine line between minimizing costs and being greedy). But this also means that our country is so rich off of our consumerism that it has stations posted all around the world, always making more, more, more. That also isn't necessarily bad, but for the selfish, sometimes ridiculous way in which we go about taking advantage of it all. In fact, it's not at all inconceivable to imagine that, right now, someone a few cities away is foregoing an important payment to buy an expensive designer purse. Being a consumer in America could be compared to smoking two packs a day, whereas a buyer elsewhere could be said to try a cigarette only once in awhile. That teenager certainly doesn't have the money or time to go to a shopping mall.

No matter your beliefs, it should be clear that American consumers are strictly self-serving; this, in turn, harms anyone and anything that does not own a checkbook, like David Foster-Wallace's lobster, killed to "achieve maximum freshness," or the mink, who just seems to be "less morally important than [a] human being" (Foster-Wallace 679). Everything is done to serve whoever has the fattest wallet. The idea is, if I pay money, I get what I want. The more it costs (me or the animal), the more I will want it, and the less I will worry about the ethics of the transaction. And here's something more to think about: we literally regard people based on how much they spend on us.

An Unhappy Ending

Once upon a time, America had gotten into a bit of a tight spot. "The Korean War was raging" and the "Cold War was hot" (Williams). The Soviet Union had begun testing its nuclear weapons, and the whole country was uneasy. "How will I get out of this one?" America wondered. Tensions rose as she thought and thought, but the solution always seemed just out of reach. As the time for decision-making ran out, along came the Government, eager to help. "Let us initiate our own nuclear testing!" it said. America listened, but she was skeptical. Wouldn't that course of action have terrible side effects on her own population? Literally send them on the fast track to see Jesus? Practically everyone was unconvinced. Some people even thought the Government was seeing pink elephants. But the Government pulled some strings, and out came the unconditional patriots, painting everyone red, white, and blue: "'if you were against nuclear testing, you were for the Communist regime,'" they said (Williams). Of course, they would not be affected, and what was the harm in taking a little advantage of the wartime attitude to unite America's future "sheep"? The Government was pleased, for it had already picked the perfect spot--almost clear of any people--to drop some bombs: Nevada. "Desert is only two letters away from deserted, you see," it told America. And so, with a half-hearted, "What kind of rhetoric is that?" America grudgingly conceded, even as the first signs of cancer and injury began to appear in the American public. Instead of stopping the Cold War, the Government fed it.

Today, approximately 1030 bombs later, we remember millions of affected citizens--hundreds of thousands of whom are dead--as well as the capabilities of the government when it has the public's fearful compliance at its disposal. This country is meant to be run by its people.

Marked

Up until the late twentieth century, women haven't meant much in the US. Perhaps this can be attributed to their virtually nonexistent role in the economy, particularly in its corporate and agricultural divisions. Jobs in these departments were, after all, deemed to be "men's work"; women were simply too "fragile" to meet the demands of urban and rural America, though, ironically, they were expected to bring children into the world (Ehrlich). Granted, the average woman today still can't match the average man in physical strength (though there is a fair share of outliers), but, when given similar opportunities, our intellectual capabilities and degree of self-control should no longer be up for debate.

So why, despite the progress of the last century, are we still "marked" (Tannen)? Is it because most men have always had their rights, and never been criticized? Is society so opposed to change that we must continue to mark women in the way that stereotyping and strict expectations have for so many years? Or have we just internalized past and present beauty standards and become conditioned to judge?

Let's take a look at one of Disney's classics: Sleeping Beauty.

She's unrealistically gorgeous, delicate, and sweet; even the animals love her. But she's totally passive, showing about three emotions throughout the whole movie. In fact, we don't really know anything about her, except that she owes her life completely Prince Charming, whom she has met twice. So what's the message? They'll love you if you're pretty, sweet, and shallow. And in return, you'll be totally provided for! Granted, it's just a children's movie, but is this the kind of girl you'd want your daughter to grow up to be today? Even Zootopia, with its talking animals, offers a more realistic female character. Shouldn't we "mark" this toxic idea of women and "unmark" the flesh-and-blood people who are, at this moment, contributing to society?

The Strongest People in the World

African Americans have certainly faced, and continue to face, more than their share of discrimination in this country. A few centuries of slavery later, I think Maya Angelou's words speak for themselves; even without Joe Louis' monumental victory, history proves that the pride behind the words, "We were the strongest people in the world," is not merely boastful.

Today, however, a new kind of slavery has replaced the middle passage: sex trafficking. The undeveloped world doesn't share the modern outlook on women taken up by wealthier countries, who, as Kristof and WuDunn point out in Half the Sky, recognize that working, educated women are actually essential to economic growth. Poverty and the antiquated views that come with it give men the power to think of women as objects, available to be sold at any time if money is tight. At the moment, poorer countries in Asia and Africa account for the majority of trafficking, and the stories are horrifying.

Take Loveth, a Nigerian woman who paid $24,000--probably her life's savings--to escape to Europe from an incestuous home, only to be kidnapped, raped, and bumped from trafficker to trafficker before returning to Nigeria with far fewer options than before (O'Toole). How many women and girls share her experiences? Millions. Of course, an exact number would be difficult to come up with, if you think about the amount of those dead or held in secret.

 These people aren't African American, but they continue to face the kind of discrimination that the rest of the developed world inflicted on them centuries ago; however, it is now up to those countries to help. It starts by making women feel like the "strongest people in the world," as Joe Louis did for Angelou.