The term “conspicuous consumption” was coined over a hundred years ago by an economist and sociologist to describe the behavior of the noveau riche and how they enjoyed their new found wealth. Since then, the term has expanded to cover anyone who spends more than the rest of us think they should. Although Thorsten Veblen, the author of The Theory of the Leisure Class, probably intended to limit his thoughts to only the leisure class, it has become applicable to anyone in any group who does more than just try to keep up with the Joneses.
In one sense, conspicuous consumption probably drives our economy. As we try to emerge from the Great Recession, one of the problems that has impeded recovery is that the average American consumer isn’t spending they way he or she used to.
That doesn’t mean that we’ve all become cheap. There is still a tremendous market for designer clothes. The York Times reported that an airport in Maine became clogged with private planes ferrying children to summer camp that one of their two runways had to be closed so they could park planes there.
However, over the top spending may be more confined to the extremely well off right now, according to Week. Tiffany’s earnings report at the end of March, 2011, reported sales gains greater than ten percent in each of its geographic regions, according to the Street Journal.
A lot of people think that money is the root of all evil. But it isn’t the money, it’s the love of money that is a source of problems. May Alcott, children’s book author, once observed “that we cannot get on without it any more than we can without potatoes.” One man’s conspicuous consumption is another man’s scraping by.
As a personal example, I was a bit aghast when someone I knew spent a couple of hundred dollars on a smart phone. But now, to paraphrase a bumper sticker that was prominent a long time ago, you can have my Droid when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers. What once was conspicuous consumption became just keeping in step with the neighbors and has now become the acquisition of a bare necessity.
In spite of that, to be accused of conspicuous consumption paints a picture of a guilty party. Whether it’s flying the kids to camp, carrying around an iPad, iPhone and iPod, or just taking the car to the car wash when there is a perfectly good hose I could run to my driveway, I am as guilty of it as anyone else.
The term “conspicuous consumption” was coined over a hundred years ago by an economist and sociologist to describe the behavior of the noveau riche and how they enjoyed their new found wealth. Since then, the term has expanded to cover anyone who spends more than the rest of us think they should. Although Thorsten Veblen, the author of The Theory of the Leisure Class, probably intended to limit his thoughts to only the leisure class, it has become applicable to anyone in any group who does more than just try to keep up with the Joneses.
In one sense, conspicuous consumption probably drives our economy. As we try to emerge from the Great Recession, one of the problems that has impeded recovery is that the average American consumer isn’t spending they way he or she used to.
That doesn’t mean that we’ve all become cheap. There is still a tremendous market for designer clothes. The York Times reported that an airport in Maine became clogged with private planes ferrying children to summer camp that one of their two runways had to be closed so they could park planes there.
However, over the top spending may be more confined to the extremely well off right now, according to Week. Tiffany’s earnings report at the end of March, 2011, reported sales gains greater than ten percent in each of its geographic regions, according to the Street Journal.
A lot of people think that money is the root of all evil. But it isn’t the money, it’s the love of money that is a source of problems. May Alcott, children’s book author, once observed “that we cannot get on without it any more than we can without potatoes.” One man’s conspicuous consumption is another man’s scraping by.
As a personal example, I was a bit aghast when someone I knew spent a couple of hundred dollars on a smart phone. But now, to paraphrase a bumper sticker that was prominent a long time ago, you can have my Droid when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers. What once was conspicuous consumption became just keeping in step with the neighbors and has now become the acquisition of a bare necessity.
In spite of that, to be accused of conspicuous consumption paints a picture of a guilty party. Whether it’s flying the kids to camp, carrying around an iPad, iPhone and iPod, or just taking the car to the car wash when there is a perfectly good hose I could run to my driveway, I am as guilty of it as anyone else.