Happy Buy Nothing Day
The Lenten gift of guiltless reminders
It’s Black Friday. Which means it’s also Buy Nothing Day. And critics of both will write them off as meaningless self-gratification.
Certainly, when it comes to black Friday, the fluffers of global sales and marketing have reached the crescendo of their increasingly breathless barrage of offers and deals, and are sitting back, panting, faces aglow with a job well done. The public, their own wrists aching with the repetitive strain that bargain-surfing brings, are breathless, too, sated and contemplating the emptiness that follows buying something really nice at a discount. Post-purchase clarity is a bitch.
Meanwhile, activists and anti-capitalists who have remained strong today are experiencing the lonely smugness of the immodestly celibate, or perhaps the triumphant satisfaction of a successful No New-buy November 30th. But perhaps, like me, they are kicking themselves with their off-brand Doc Martens, for breaking the Buy Nothing Day fast.
The hot take here would be to paint the non-participants in the West’s festival of consumerism today as grinches, indulging in futile gestures of joyless self-righteousness. You’re not changing anything, just let people enjoy the bargains. Only the particularly privileged get to turn their noses up at deal.
And that is fair, I guess. If we don’t want a Revolution without dancing, we probably want one without po-faced self-righteousness. But taking a counter-cultural (or even prophetic) stance on Black Friday need not come with a douchey side of superiority. But Buy Nothing Day is still, I think, a beautiful ideal.
As the destructive force of capitalism mushrooms all over the globe, its mycelia burrow into human hearts in the form of consumerism. Hyphae of class consciousness are just as useful to consumerism as that rather old fashioned fungal infection, greed, in driving our desire to accumulate. After all, the rich have their own movie theatres and oysters, why shouldn’t I have ten-foot TV and a stir-fry full of shitakes?
But dumping the responsibility for global capitalism on the shoulders of consumers is a little like focusing on plastic straws and low energy lightbulbs while militaries, mines and refineries gush effluent and CO2 at rates that drown even out collective contributions. It is capitalism doing what capitalism does best: externalising the costs. Feeling like we are to blame for the slavery, inequality and environmental degradation capitalism brings is why the system wants. And attempts at solutions that work only within the system are in themselves engines for greater problems.
‘Vote with your feet’, the old slogan for exerting pressure through buying power, just serves to erode our faith in actual democracy. The more contemporary ‘shoptivism’ is a neat way to keep people spending while corporations create ‘ethical’ sub-brands to service the new market segments and consumer profiles. Super-global systems of death can’t be brought (or even slowed) down by our flexing of spending habits. There is no truly ethical consumption under capitalism. We know this, really.
But, individual cogs in the vast machine can be jammed. That’s why we boycott. That’s why we strike and show solidarity with strikers.
Just as a gap-year working for a charity abroad may not solve any of the world’s problems, but might raise a consciousness of the global underclass later in life, so small observances like Buy Nothing Day can help us to be more mindful of the hold our material desires have on us. Of how much real estate in our hearts and minds has been monopolised by the bland suburban sprawl of advertising, accumulation and that thwarted aspirational ache.
Christians have a similar antidote to avaricious poison in Lent. For 40 days, we are invited to hold back from self-indulgence and focus on higher things. To remember the story of God himself saying no to attractive yet empty offers. Lent is not austerity for austerity’s sake (or even austerity at all), but a reminder, made more powerful by our active participation, that we can, in fact, do without some things. If only for a time. The aim is to energise you for the rest of the year, to make space for choice (and choosing better) rather than operating on acquisitional autopilot.
The Lenten-adjacent discipline of Buy Nothing Day is meant to put a dent in the profits of the big companies that own our shopping habits. Its aim is to interrupt the almost endless mantra of more, more more. And, perhaps, if we’re honest, it is also to inject a little dose of shame, inoculating culture against moments like these, when overconsumption rages like a fever in our culture.
It is, realistically, not going to bring Amazon down any time soon (though, Lord, haste the day when Goliath does fall). Many people can’t afford to ‘participate by not participating’ as the BND slogan goes. And even if we all boycotted buying for a day, the system would still roll on, swallowing rainforest’ and workers’ rights, regardless of a one-day blip. Buy Nothing day can’t stop capitalism, but it can give us pause. It can, even by it’s irritating inconvenience, remind us that there is something slightly wrong with a system that makes not buying things for just a day feel like an obstacle or imposition. And then we might remember that there is something very wrong with system where a tiny minority are made insanely wealthy by exploiting vast swathes of humanity and poisoning most of nature.
Full disclosure, though, I wrote most of this over an Americano which I very much bought. And a bacon sandwich. And a flat white. After I bought petrol made of fossil fuels. I may not be the poster-boy for Buy Nothing Day. But I don’t need to be. Neither do you.
But I feel a vague sense of guilt. Shame, even. Could be the leftism, could be the Christianity, but it’s there. Maybe it is for you, too, if you didn’t quite BN to-D. (If you feel no guilt, feliz navidad! Have a good day!)
And I’m finding the mantra I learned in a weight-loos group, of all places, quite useful:
Be non-judgemental. Be curious.
I’m not going to be hard on myself for not observing a voluntary and largely symbolic day. I’m gonna stop using words like ‘failed’. I’m going to note that my ideals and my actions did not match up today. No judgement. But I’m not going to leave it at that. I’m going to be curious. Why was it so hard to observe? Is my life so intertwined with commerce and consumption that I almost automatically mediate everything from social interaction to downtime with a purchase? Is it me or is it my culture? The world around me? And what would it take to return to the state of human being rather than human buying?
Every day can be Buy Nothing Day. Its value is in making us ask these questions and raising our awareness of the habits and structures that keep us plugged into a system we know to be corrupt. And that should be a beginning, rather than an end. A nudge to speak to others about compulsive consumption, and the unjust systems that encourage it.
Whether you long for a sudden revolution or favour a steady reforming towards a better world, the necessary work of talking to people, finding common ground and walking with them towards better ideology can’t be replaced by a pseudo-religious day of observance. There’s a world of people out there who know, deep down, that the way things are ain’t right. They see the breathlessly seductive sales pitches and the frothing frenzy of buying with the same sick feeling we do.
Our job is to unpack it for them, to help them see the world with new eyes.
That could be about capitalism, low wages, climate chaos or imperial violence — all these things need to be seen with clear eyes and renewed minds, unconformed to the toxic narratives of the powerful.
Perhaps it’s the caffeine talking, but I believe each one of us can, if we are reminded and motivated to, raise awareness and sow questioning seeds. Each one of us can talk to someone and shift their view, just a little. Not with guilt or hectoring, ascetic demands, but honest and open conversation. Even about our ‘failures’.
This is a time of hope. Even as the world seems to plunge deeper into a darkness of hatred and greed, in some places lights are glowing brighter than ever. The narratives seem to be shifting. The young are questioning lies. Movements are gathering momentum.
If, on a day consecrated to capitalism, we can remember that a better world is possible, and make small moves to birth it in ourselves, who knows? Maybe we’re participating in a birth of something good.
New on the Beer Christianity podcast
Jolyon Maugham KC is something of a big deal, so we were delighted (and indebted to the good people at Greenbelt) to have him on the show. He’s a fun guy, and doing important work that upsets some powerful people. Listen to Episode 88 now to hear about how he and Good Law Project are working through the legal system to challenge injustice.
Palestine TikToks
The ‘Operational Pause’ Israel has started is good news, but not a reason to reduce the pressure people of conscience are putting on the Israeli government (and our own governments). And, as its timing suggests a propaganda purpose, it is more important than ever that we keep talking about the massacre in Gaza and the Occupation of Palestine more generally.
The little collection of one or two TikTok videos I started collecting for a friend who wanted to educate herself about the situation, its history and pro-Palestine arguments, has grown to 306 videos.
They range from passionate polemics and satirical skits to in-depth reports and speeches before various parliaments.
As ever, I can’t vouch for the creators’ personal morality or ideological purity across everything they have ever created, and don’t pretend to agree with every syllable they say, but I found many of these videos useful, and so might you and your friends.
The end bit
Beer Christianity is an occasionally amusing, boozy, sweary Leftist Christian podcast. Find us at beerchristianty.co.uk
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Hey! You’re at the end now. Thanks for reading, I really do appreciate it. I feel weird about posting something not about the ethnic cleansing of a people while it’s still ongoing, but this felt necessary. Mostly because I read something I wrote last year about Black Friday and it felt so fucking boring. You know how it is when you read stuff you wrote a long time go. Thanks for reading and encouraging. You are the best. love, J