Cruelty-free consumerism
AS RECENTLY as a decade ago, the most existential question confronting US shoppers was a simple choice between paper and plastic. This year, as Americans rush to complete their annual spending spree, they can pick from an array of products with social objectives -- products defined not only by how they look, work, or taste, but also by whom they help and, often, by what they aren't.
First came cruelty-free cosmetics (not tested on animals) and free-range chickens (not stuck in cages during their brief time on Earth). Supermarkets now sell fair-trade coffee (not harvested by exploited farmers). And as of this fall, New England's two largest dairies sell milk from artificial-hormone-free cows. Beauty products purport to raise money for research on breast and prostate cancer. A new, Bono-blessed collection of red iPods and T-shirts supports anti-AIDS efforts in Africa.
This trend shows that people care about the economic, environmental, and health consequences of their purchases. Then again, such products may contribute to a guiltless form of gluttony. They soothe the consciences of people who are uneasy about their own consumption -- but not so uneasy that they give up shopping altogether.
Some industries feel a greater need to tout their social awareness than others. Earlier this decade, rebel groups in Angola and West Africa sold diamonds to finance their war-making. This year, the diamond industry has been running a PR campaign highlighting efforts by governments and diamond companies to keep so-called conflict diamonds off the market. This isn't a marketing gimmick, industry representatives say. "Millions of people around the world make their living because of diamonds," said Cecilia Gardner, general counsel of the World Diamond Council. The initiative "is important in maintaining the integrity of the supply side."
Still, some jewelers heavily promote their "conflict-free" diamonds. By accident or by design, the industry has created a masterpiece of aspirational marketing. If only our daily lives, and not just our precious stones, could be conflict-free!
As badness-free products proliferate, the issues confronting consumers grow ever more complex. Which is better: a red Gap T-shirt made in Lesotho, a poor African country that would benefit if textile jobs were outsourced there, or a US-made, "sweatshop-free" version by American Apparel? Meanwhile, pretenders are slipping in. Natural American Spirit cigarettes claim to be "additive-free" -- as if anyone who inhales burning carcinogens should worry about fillers and dyes.
Even so, one has to marvel at the sheer variety of products with social overtones. One Seattle nonprofit promotes "sustainable" clothing made from a combination of bamboo fiber and Spandex. Earth-conscious and form-fitting? Who knew? One hopes that the bamboo is free-range, and the Spandex cruelty-free.
