In this article, I explore the phenomenon of lifestyle inflation and how a consumerism saturated landscape assists in creating material desires that can’t be satiated.
Have you heard about a case of a well-known celebrity going broke? The King of Pop was allegedly $400 million dollars in debt at the time of his death, while you’ve likely seen actors such as Nic Cage and Robert De Niro popping up in a number of questionable roles for a paycheck. Or take Floyd Mayweather Jr. He owed the IRS a whopping $22.2 million debt even after he came out of retirement. Somehow these household names (and many more) went from pulling figures flush with 0’s, residing in sprawling estates, and enjoying the big life, to scrapping for cash and racking up eight and nine figure debts. Blowing through such a monumental amount of money seems like a dizzying feat for the average person. Welcome to the phenomenon known as lifestyle inflation. While some are blessed with financial security from the start and other suddenly hit a big break, most people slowly work their way up the food chain. And because they gradually work their way up, they slowly and carefully adjust to living different lifestyles in different income brackets over time. That’s how this unfortunate predicament can sneak up on you.
Picture this: You’re 15 and you’ve never had a job, but then you secure a minimum wage first job, and you suddenly start bringing in paychecks. And you’re on top of the world, feeling flushed with money when you get a 50 cent raise! You can finally purchase the sneakers you wanted! Then time trickles by and university starts, and you’re working between classes and struggling to put food on the table. You’re grateful for the ability to buy Ramen and toilet paper. But then you graduate from college and secure your first salaried job, and all of a sudden you’re making monthly car payments and renting your own place and affording late nights, and you’re feeling on top of the world once more. And then a few years in you get a raise and you upgrade to a new place with a guest bedroom and the car is all payed off and you’re flying to Mexico on long weekends, but you have your eyes set on purchasing a new home. So you advance in your career, and you buy that home, and you start to lease a Lexus instead of your trusted Toyota, but then you begin to notice that all of your friends have vacation homes and designer apparel, and your new neighborhood is really more of the Tesla variety. But here’s the thing not everyone realizes: even if you have the Tesla, and the vacation home(s), it’s never really enough. There is always something just out of your reach, flooding your body with lust as you focus on what’s just out of grasp.
There are a number of inherent issues with this all too common scenario. For one, if you reach a later stage (visiting the Tesla dealership) and suddenly get knocked back to an earlier stage (putting food on the table), the adjustment can be jarring. And you might think that could never happen to you, but you know that’s what absolutely everyone else who’s suddenly found themselves in Schitt’s Creek once said. I’m not saying that people can’t enjoy their hard earned money. People labor to succeed (unless their parents’ buy them into college, wink), and they should be allowed to enjoy their money. However, the need to constantly reach over your head and struggle to attain something more can also jeopardize your financial stability. You might think you’re taking care of your finances, but lifestyle inflation is a widely common occurrence. It sneaks up on people, and with lifespans in first world countries steadily increasing, many find themselves without two pennies to rub together in their golden years. And then, of course, many aren’t enjoying their retirement until they’re octogenarians, because they worry about how their bills will be paid after spending decades gradually eroding the savings account. And just like that, an entire life is consumed by nonstop work in the pursuit of material “necessities.”
That brings me to another issue. Not only can lifestyle inflation enormously impact financial security, but the constant need to attain something just outside of one’s grasp breeds a state of permanent dissatisfaction. The desire to achieve material fulfillment can be all-consuming, especially for anyone plugged in to any aspects of the modern world. At least when once upon a time you had to flip through a photo album to see images of your friend’s trip (as opposed to, say, scrolling on Instagram), you didn’t have to be inundated with advertisements for everything you’ve ever searched and any adjacent category. The other day I followed a friend into an H&M for the first time in years. I’m positive I didn’t Google the store or text anyone about it, yet the next day, my Instagram was sneakily full of H&M ads conveniently telling me about the latest flash sale that I don’t want to miss out on! It’s downright chilling how intelligent smart devices are getting at predicting what we want and reminding us that we need it now. And you don’t even need to have social media— or visit practically any website thanks to cookies— to be inundated with advertisements. All you have to do is drive down the highway to perhaps subconsciously process a variety of ads in your peripheral.
That brings me to a third and final point I’d like to make about this problematic, materialistic environment we’ve created. Yes, I understand that sales are what drive businesses and businesses and customers are what stimulate the economy (I even work on marketing projects for companies!), but there’s no denying the absolute mass materialism saturation of the modern world. This leads to people becoming worryingly out of touch with the world around them. We forget about mass issues such as world hunger and terrorism and human trafficking, because our environment is telling us to focus on what we can buy. And then when the commercials of the starving children or abused puppies comes on the television (assuming that you aren’t using a streaming plan that you’ve upgraded to be advertisement free), we change the channel or mute the TV, because we don’t want to see it. I’m not saying that we need to inundate our lives with horrific images that remind us of the realities of the world outside of our comfortable bubbles. But it would be nice if there was more of a balance of things. Then again, maybe my digital products and their subsequent cookie-inspired advertisements are simply a reflection of my own empty, materialistic desires, and it is I who need to change. However, I feel comfortable in the assumption that I am not the only one.
It’s good to have aspirations. Many need a goal to aspire to, or else they feel as though they are merely wandering throughout life without a purpose or direction. But do we ever stop to consider when enough is enough? Is there ever a point when we feel as though we have everything that we need, even a moment of the peace that accompanies utter wholeness? If you expect me to weigh in on how to reach this mental nirvana, this unfortunately isn’t that type of blog. You see, I’m down there is the trenches with the rest of the modern world, only I’m particularly guilty, because I see the truth behind these ravenous lifestyles, and yet I remain powerless to change my own. Yes, having money is fantastic. Driving in flashy cars and venturing to exclusive clubs and carrying designer bags can make you feel superior (which is a whole other issue). But it’s never going to fill that inner void, the very one you’re attempting to hide from when you use your credit card to solve problems. Wake up, break the 4K resolution screen, and consider pursing something more lasting.