I became a full post-materialist at my local discount chemist, a few weeks ago. Waiting for a prescription to be filled, I considered the purchase of a new lipstick, perhaps a moisturiser, or some other kind of affordable treat to lift spirits left dampened by my illness. I was standing before a shelf of hair elixirs when the realisation dawned that a purchase was unnecessary; there was already a lonely bottle of the stuff at home on my bathroom shelf; and that same shelf was burdened by other bottles, tubs, tubes of unguents and goos, bought at similar shops for similar reasons.
There, then, in that aisle, I hit the point of terminal materialism. Money has been tight of late – and though my low mood insisted on some kind of little indulgence, I couldn’t quite bring myself to justify purchasing another version of even small, cheap items of which I knew I had plenty. My awareness expanded beyond the chemist to the shops selling clothes, shoes, the kind of crockery I like, appliances, furniture ... all items meeting perceived needs not only now sated, but clogging the sole room of my small rented studio.
I have enough stuff, I thought, and it was a realisation so extraordinary that I hit the internet convinced there must be a German word to describe the dizzy, isolated feeling that accompanied a walk home past familiar shops with which my relationship had been permanently severed.
Perhaps it’s a combination of encroaching middle age and living alone that has exhausted my material ambition. I’m childless, there are no demands on me to clothe growing spawn or meet their constantly changing demands. Primarily, though, my material ambition has been limited by my circumstances, which happen to reflect a growing social trend. My 40s loom but my working life has been spent in insecure work, the digital “revolution” has rendered the work I do far less well-paid than it once was, my university qualifications have not ensured income stability, I have still not paid off my student debt. I rent a studio because it’s what I can afford; long abandoned is any realistic dream of home ownership that, beyond being a material ambition in itself, could provide the extra room that would allow me to buy more things.
If Joe Hockey is still wondering why his “get a good job” recipe for the material ambition of home ownership yet echoes in the ears of so many, it’s not because there are growing numbers of people like me hitting the middle of life with aspirations for greater material expansion extinguished. The 1950s dream of a family home with a quarter-acre block is one the majority of us cannot afford. In fact, a recent report suggests that within 10 years, more than 50% of Australian homes will be single occupancy.
Anxiety around home ownership doesn’t appear to be limited to Gen X or Y, or the hazy combination of both that’s known as “Generation Rent”. A report released by the the Co-Op has revealed that nearly eight in 10 “future leaders” aged between 19 and 29 are concerned about the level of mortgage debt they may face in their lifetime. The Co-Op dubbed this group “Generation Concerned” since it found that 78% of these people are already concerned about not having enough money for retirement, 75% are concerned about the cost of bringing up children and 68% worry about education debt.
And why wouldn’t they be worried? The insecure work conditions of casualised, subcontracted or “zero-hours” jobs have rapidly expanded in the last 10 to 15 years, with 40% of the Australian workforce presently denied the security and conditions of permanent work.
Both ends of the capitalist divide acknowledge the effects. Tim Kennedy, secretary of the National Union of Workers describes “declining equality and social mobility” in society as workers are paid less to work harder, while the NAB’s chief economist Alan Ostler revealed “retirement funding and providing for the family’s future continue to cause the most anxiety with regards to households’ financial positions” in the NAB’s latest report into consumer stress.
The recent deal between the government and the Greens to cut back part-pensions will also affect this generation considerably: the Co-Op report identifies that inheritance remains the single largest mechanism by which younger people gain home ownership and fund their own retirement. Running down family capital is dangerous in an environment where 38% of young people rely on parental guarantees for a first home loan.
Anxiety around frustrated material ambition is a fraught emotion to sustain. I can personally vouch for the double benefit of post-materialism: reducing consumption is obviously better for the environment, and my rejection of consumerism in a discount chemist prompted a promised mood-enhancing state of liberation far more spiritually fulfilling than any greasy lipstick.
But me having an epiphany at the shops is not a program for social policy. We all know we have an environmental imperative to consume less but while society remains organised around consumption, and governments continue to erode support at a time of increasing work instability and insecure housing, there are difficult questions to answer around what happens next.
It’s one thing to walk out of the chemist with nothing, but an entire generation walking towards old age with nothing is a prospect far less liberating.
