Environmentalism and World Domination

I wrote in my last article about one way that culture can have (what I believe are) negative effects on those under its influence, particularly when it is perceived as reflecting the underlying nature of reality rather than being recognized as something both imposed and imitated. But culture can also have (what I at least believe to be) positive effects, and so today I’d like to briefly discuss one of those.

Consider the phenomenon of environmentalism. This is a movement that seems to have gained enormous momentum over the course of the past several decades. (I say “seems to have” rather than “has,” because (1) I haven’t done the research to assess this and (2) informal perception about cultural changes over time is something I am generally inclined to distrust, mainly because a significant proportion of cultural belief systems include a whole segment describing “how things used to be and how the way things are now is different”—so that perceptions of the cultural system of the past are themselves shaped by the cultural system of the present, rather than being pure, unadulterated, comparative memories.)

In any event, I would argue that whatever rise in environmentalist behaviors (recycling, reduced consumption, green building practices, etc.) may have occurred over the past half-century, has done so as a direct result of developments in the cultural belief systems of the individuals engaging in these behaviors. Specifically, beliefs such as “the health of the planet, the happiness of future generations, and the survival of the human race depend on exercising greater care in our use of environmental resources,” or “if I don’t toss this can in the recycling bin, everyone who sees me is going to think badly of me,” are the most effective mechanisms to motivate environmentalist activities.

Where do these beliefs come from? Some have been instilled through overt cultural campaigns carefully constructed by people already convinced of their importance. For instance, as a child I remember attending mandatory school-wide assemblies, complete with catchy songs and animated cartoons, encouraging me to “Recycle, Reduce, Re-use, and Close the Loop!” and recommending five fun crafts I could try at home that would make use of my six-pack soda-rings so they didn’t end up around the neck of some poor seagull or cute little fishie.

But there are also subtler mechanisms with similar effects. The proliferation of recycling bins next to trash cans in places like the Seattle airport not only makes recycling easier—it also sends an implicit message that recycling is something everyone should be sure to do, wherever they find themselves. And I don’t know about Macs, but on my PC where there once upon a time was a trash can to which I could drag unwanted files, there is now a “Recycle Bin.” Does dragging my files to a Recycle Bin rather than a Trash Can ensure that the bits and pixels of which it was composed will be processed for re-use rather than sent to languish in a landfill? No, but it does get me in the habit of looking first for a recycle bin when I want to get rid of something cluttering up my desktop, which is likely to influence my behavior in the three-dimensional realm, as well.

Because this second category often has just as much impact on our beliefs and behaviors as the first (indeed, sometimes even more of an impact—since, as I pointed out with respect to the innocent questions we ask our children, the subtlest messages are often the hardest ones to resist), and because many of us live in societies which are responsive, both politically and commercially, to popular expectations, a feedback cycle develops wherein beliefs in the importance of environmentalism foster more beliefs in the importance of environmentalism.

That is, because politicians are out to please voters (in order to get re-elected), and because producers are out to please consumers (in order to sell more of their products), it is in their interests to respond to any preferences that a significant portion of the general population holds. If enough people consider it important to prevent dolphins from being killed when tuna fish is caught for consumption, then companies will respond by making their tuna fish “dolphin-safe” and then advertising it as such, and governments may even make laws prohibiting dolphin-killing by tuna-catchers. But also, the advertisements for dolphin-safe tuna are likely to awaken people who otherwise wouldn’t have thought to care about the impact of their tuna consumption on dolphin populations to the notion that maybe this is something about which they should be concerned, thereby increasing the number of people who make dolphin safety a priority in their tuna-purchasing decisions.

The proliferation of cultural beliefs and expectations can thus significantly impact the state of reality—and sometimes this can be for the better. Indeed, I would argue that if one wants to improve the world, it is far more effective to work to change prevailing cultural value systems in such a way that people are convinced of the importance of a given change (trusting that the people best positioned to make that change will then find it in their best interests to do so) than to attempt to enact restrictions or regulations enforcing a change which most people consider unimportant or even undesirable.

In other words, if you really want to take over the world, you may not need infinite wealth or superior military force. A convincing cultural construction might just do the trick.

The (Frightening?) Function of Fashion

While I’m on the subject of color, allow me to turn for a moment to the topic of fashion or style—a topic I personally find to be simultaneously fascinating and vaguely disturbing, not to mention yet another excellent illustration of some of the points I’ve been trying to make about the nature and influence of culture on the human experience.

Color plays an often-central role in the distinguishing of different styles or fashions in modern American society (I have no doubt it does so in other societies as well, but I’m going to limit myself to speaking of areas with which I have some personal familiarity). Certain colors are associated with specific seasons, years, or decades, and clothing, décor, and items whose coloration fails to align with the current chromatic expectations is immediately deemed “out of style.”

Of course, color is not the only element that identifies something as being in or out of style. Size, shape, and outline are some others, as will become apparent if you compare the cut of clothing, the contour of cars, and the construction of couches that are produced from year to year. I find it fascinating that it is possible to identify the decade, and sometimes even the year and month, in which an article of clothing was created to be worn just by looking at it. Or to look at toys currently being sold and to see how distinctly different they look from toys with the exact same functions (a dollhouse, a swingset, a baby bouncer) being sold back when I was a child.

The thing I find vaguely disturbing about this phenomenon is that it is one of the most blatant ways in which I see culture being mobilized to trick people into doing things they otherwise wouldn’t be inclined to do, in ways that just happen to benefit the people who are perpetuating the trickery. When we become convinced that “style” is a necessary concern when it comes to the various products we employ (rather than focusing purely on functionality), then we can be enticed to purchase a new sweater/backpack/refrigerator even though the one we currently possess is still perfectly capable of performing its designated task, and to do so as often as the people who make these products (and thus benefit from increased demand for their purchase) choose to alter their color or shape and thereby proclaim previous shapes and colors to be hopelessly demodé.

I distinctly remember when I first took note of this phenomenon. Back when I was in high school, stick-straight hair was considered far superior to any other style, and I watched many a girl not naturally endowed with such tresses spend weeks saving up to buy a ceramic straightener, beg her parents for de-frizzing gels and conditioners, and even undergo the painful and expensive process of chemical straightening. A few years later soft, wavy curls became the rage, and not only did the once-fortunate straight-hair girls have to go out to buy diffusers, mousse, and curlers to achieve the coveted look—so did the once-naturally-curly-haired ones who had undergone permanent straightening. Even then I marveled at the brilliance of this marketing ploy.

Now, I am not here making the argument that fashion and style are inherently worthless and evil things with which we shouldn’t be at all concerned (not that I wouldn’t make that argument if asked; simply that this is not the place for me to do so). But what I am concerned about is the way that the assumption that style is a valuable consideration when it comes to the products we purchase and employ has come, through cultural imposition and imitation, to be taken for granted and left utterly unquestioned.

This is one of the (many) reasons I think a more attuned awareness to the anthropology of the everyday is worthwhile to pursue. It helps us to see the way that culture can be used to control us, and allows us to decide for ourselves, more thoughtfully and consciously, what factors and considerations are really important in guiding the way we live our lives.