The Battle Between Overconsumption and Minimalism
By: Tiffany Amoakohene
Tags: Death, Mindfulness, Konmari, Minimalism, Consumerism

When Netflix released the reality television series, Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, the question “Does it spark joy?” became a trendy catchphrase that seemingly influenced a cultural lifestyle change in the United States. Kondo’s message of transformation through decluttering inspired people to get rid of mass amounts of materialistic possessions, and non-profit organizations like Goodwill saw an increase in donations.

My mother could have used the KonMari method. She was a borderline hoarder who left behind a lot of stuff when she died. Most of it lacked monetary value — like the threadbare potholders she never replaced, the bulky analog television she never upgraded, and the direct mail solicitations she never filled out. Other items had sentimental value like her record album and 8-track tape collection, or the glass hutch she’d purchased at a discounted rate during her first year of marriage.

While some Americans embraced the KonMari method, it didn’t spark joy among many bibliophiles. They went to Twitter in droves insisting that Kondo was misguided when she said that 30 books is the ideal number to have in the home. When she recommended getting rid of the books we’ve never read, as well the ones we would most likely never read again, the American Library Association joined the conversation. They tweeted, “#Librarians reading Marie Kondo’s #book advice: 50% are confused by the concept of a book that doesn’t spark joy…”

Japanese culture embraces the concept of Ma, a pause or break in time and space. The negative space isn’t an absence, but rather the balance between everything. It has been described as “an emptiness full of possibilities, like a promise yet to be fulfilled.” Ma represents moderation in opposition to excess — the negative space that enables growth, sparks creativity, and permits freedom. It is the heart of Japanese minimalism and the foundation of the KonMari method.

Many Americans found it difficult to embrace this Zen-influenced approach because the idea that less is more doesn’t align with America’s long history and culture of overconsumption. The American idiom, “shop ’til you drop” is a slogan of consumerism and symbolic of a capitalistic society that encourages people to spend. Kondo’s philosophy equates freedom with throwing everything out and keeping only what we need. Conversely, American consumerism links freedom with the power of choice. We’re able to purchase large amounts of goods even if these goods turn into clutter that weigh us down.

Our choices are vast. American supermarket shelves are filled with quantities of brand name and generic products in numerous varieties. Take, for example, the different types of yogurt, which range from fruit flavored to full fat, non-fat, and low-fat Greek. Research has shown that too much choice causes people to hinder our ability to make strategic decisions.

Similarly, there are more cable channels than a human could watch in a lifetime, plus film and television series that are accessible online. Regardless of age or income, we are a generation of bingers who quickly move on to the next big thing. We have freedom of choice, but we’re slaves to technology and social media. How we spend our time and shape the space we live indirectly impacts our progress and how we engage with our surroundings.

Consumerism culture goes hand in hand with a thirst for status and Americans are willing to pay the price even if it means spending beyond our means. My mother referred to it as keeping up with the Joneses years before the Kardashians came along and became a benchmark for social class and the accumulation of material goods.

The wealthy celebrity became the blueprint of overconsumption from owning multi-million-dollar beach houses and penthouses, to having closets filled with hundreds of shoes and shiny bling. Online retail has made consumerism easy for the rich and even those who are strapped for cash. Most things are just one click away and will eventually fill America’s landfills.

“We’re born, we accumulate stuff, and then we die.” That’s how my high school psychology teacher summed up the stages of life. When my mother died, her existence morphed into an apartment full of clutter. What wasn’t tossed or donated was reduced to a box of artifacts that became part of my semi-cluttered space. I wonder if they will spark joy for me 10 years from now the same way they had sparked joy for her.