I Am What I Own

One

Envy and Taking Your Identity from Things

When it comes to the tenth commandment, which forbids envying your neighbor’s goods, one of the forces we need to reckon with is the temptation to seek your identity in things. We wouldn’t be likely to envy our neighbor’s goods unless we thought those goods conferred a certain status, that having such things elevates you, makes you more interesting, or sophisticated, while not having them says that you really don’t have much going for you.

This is why companies pay movie stars and sports stars so much to make a commercial, because you think you’ll share in their coolness if you buy what they’re selling. But of course, you won’t. And the thought that you make yourself better by owning a particular thing – that’s the disease of consumerism.

Two

Positional / Luxury Goods / Conspicuous Consumption

A great deal has been written about the twentieth and now twenty–first–century’s obsession with luxury goods. It used to be that we bought things because they were useful or necessary. Now we buy them to show off. This is called “Conspicuous Consumption.” It used to be that we’d buy things because they were inexpensive. Now, more often than not, we buy things because they are expensive.

In fact, in many cases, we buy things because they are extremely expensive and because they’re so expensive, a lot of people can’t afford them, which means they’re artificially scarce.

So if I’m one of the people who can afford a luxury watch, or a luxury car, or a luxury pair of shoes, or a luxury suit, or luxury countertops – in all these cases I am showing myself and the rest of society that I am in a better position than many of my fellow human beings. That’s why economists will sometimes refer to luxury items as “positional goods,” because they are designed to highlight my lofty social position.

Again, the unaffordability is the point, because if everybody could have this item then it wouldn’t work at increasing my status.

This is evil. Any item that is designed to increase the owner’s ego at the expense of his brothers and sisters, any item designed to heighten status, that’s just feeding into a culture of coveting your neighbors’ goods.

We all know that quality and expense do not necessarily go together. That simple elegance and beauty is almost always opposed to the showy, tacky extravagance of luxury.

Do not participate in the sickness of luxury. Do not try to define yourself based on the things you can buy that other people can’t.

Three

Connoisseurship 

Even the people who can’t afford luxury items will often fall into the trap of consumerism, of trying to gain status and sophistication from the stuff they have. This is the shameful temptation of becoming a consumer connoisseur.

High-schoolers pride themselves on their pop music and pop-culture taste. They argue about which pop musician is more excellent, or which influencer is more insightful: (which is a lot like arguing about which of two mini-vans is more hardcore 😊). College guys argue about which of twenty practically indistinguishable cheap beers is better. College professors take pride in their knowledge of scotch. Outdoorsy folks spend too much on bikes. Everyone cares way too much about their own distinctive style of clothing.

Some people buy expensive brand-clothing, other people get thrift-store, and then brag about it. Even the coffee you buy and the coffee mug you use (and don’t get me started about water bottles) is supposed to be some sort of expression of the kind of person you are. And by the way, if any of you out there are priests: beware when you start taking pride in being a priest who knows how to get the “nice” vestments, and the “nice” clerical garb. Also, if you happen to be a bit of a wine snob, you might want to keep that to yourself.

Listen to me: taking pride in your taste in consumer products, and taking pride in what you possess, that’s off limits. 

It’s fine to like something or to think that something is really good. The danger is when you get a sense of self-satisfaction at your own discriminating sensibility. Once you cross that line, you’ve started trying to be special based on what you own.

But the thing is, you’re not special based on what you own. You’re special based on who owns you.

Four

Brands / Brand Loyalty

One of the silliest trends, and one of the saddest trends to watch Christians indulge in, is brand loyalty.

People, and often people who can’t afford it, drop way too much money on a pair of shoes, just because of the stupid logo on the side. People, and often people who really can’t afford it, drop way too much money on Starbucks coffee, again, often because of the magic aura the company has created around its own brand.

People spend insane amounts of money to get the latest Apple product, jam-packed with features they have absolutely no need for. And they’ll all say the same hideous thing, “I’m an apple guy.” “I’m a starbucks lady.” “I’m a Nike man.” 

Don’t say that! Don’t identify yourself with a brand, with a corporation. 

In fact, if you do, let me recommend this penance: next time you need a phone or a coffee or a pair of shoes, make the sacrifice to God of getting something cheaper and off-brand just to show that that company doesn’t own you.

Because it doesn’t own you – does it?

Five

One brand. One loyalty.

There is only one brand we have accepted: the brand of sacramental character, the mark of Baptism and Confirmation, and maybe for some of you, Holy Orders.

That brand says who we are. It says who we belong to. It says whose men and women we are. It says we belong to Christ, and that is what makes us special.

What we eat, drink, wear, and drive – the kitchen we cook in, the technology we use, or what kind of office furniture it sits on – absolutely not important. That stuff is not supposed to matter a hill of beans: we should be able to switch it all out for cheaper, less cool stuff in a second, and not care.

Because Children of God don’t place their value in their toys. Which is why they do not covet their neighbors’ goods.