Experience is the new commodity

LMSB

Written by: Lina M. Sanchez Betancourt

I agree with spending money on experiences that encourage us to connect to ourselves and others instead of purchasing objects with minimal utility that contribute to ocean pollution. But capitalism is deceptive: it turns well-intentioned ideals into commodities. In fact, until recently, experiences were simply experiences. The notion of "spending money on experiences, not things" is not innocent, and it doesn't challenge the core principles of capitalism; instead, it operates within the same system it claims to fight against.

I recently came across Die With Zero: Getting All You Can From Your Money and Your Life, a book by Bill Perkins that proves that switching the object of our desire doesn’t change our desire. It states that we should spend money on experiences, as they make us happier in the long run since the value of experiences greatly outweighs the value of possessions. If our existence is aimed at maximizing our gains, and if such is achievable by maximizing the value of things (experiences or objects alike), we should, therefore, spend on experiences. That is, it suggests we should structure our lives, even our deaths, around our spending habits.

The main argument revolves around the idea that life has two phases—accumulation and expenditure. We should amass resources during the accumulation phase to spend more afterward. As we transition into the expenditure phase, we should aim to calculate our spending capacity judiciously. The ultimate goal is to ensure that, upon our death, we leave behind no legacy but a corpse. Get all you can and leave nothing behind except trash polluting our oceans.

The book serves as a mere pretext to delve into a concept that permeates numerous other books, articles, conversations, and the collective imagination at large. Let’s dig a bit deeper into why consuming experiences doesn’t make us happier or maximize our gains and why, even if it did, it wouldn’t matter.

Can we truly break free from consumerism?

Money was created because trading had become too complicated. It is a medium of exchange and one of the best inventions to organize complex and growing societies. It is not the enemy, though it may often serve as an antagonist. Living to accumulate money is mean-spirited, and not caring about money is unreasonable. 

Money is a tool that can either help, serve, or enslave us. Consumerism is a manifestation of capitalism through which we find ourselves enslaved.

Consumerism has taught us that happiness and personal fulfillment equate to accumulation—the number of possessions or experiences we acquire. It reduces meaningful aspects of life to measurable value and, in the most rudimentary cases, to mere checkmarks on a lousy checklist. If we believe that all our problems of human existence can be easily solved through consumerism, we will find ourselves consumed by a craving with far-reaching consequences on a global, social, economic, and environmental scale. It proves insatiable because it seems like the key to a meaningful life, but it only deepens the giant void in our spirit. We can never get enough because it’s intrinsically never enough. It's akin to trying to quench our thirst with layers of clothes. It doesn't matter how many layers we wear because cold is the problem, not thirst.

Can we even imagine a world where our very existence is not defined by what we consume (experiences or otherwise)? One of capitalism's most effective traps is that it undermines even our ability to conceive a world without it.  

What is a commodity? 

A commodity is a basic, interchangeable, and widely traded good or product used in commerce.

What is an experience? 

According to Jean-Paul Sartre, experiences are not mere commodities, as they might be perceived by Perkins and the like. Sartre emphasizes that lived experiences play a crucial role in shaping the values of each human being. These experiences are intricately connected to the decisions each person makes, transcending the mere value of a single experience.

Even if we consciously resist spending money, we cannot escape the inevitable reality of experiencing life. We engage with life through our daily decisions, even when we naively believe we're not making any.

On Happiness

It is true that happiness is a delightful and pleasurable state, so much so that we are tempted to believe that reaching such a state is the sole purpose of our existence. But I'm afraid true happiness is not achieved by changing the object of our desire —from shoes to skydiving. Moreover, living a meaningful life doesn't equate to living a happy life. Martin Seligman, quoted by Emily Esfahani Smith, argues that “meaning is about belonging to and serving something bigger than ourselves and developing the best within ourselves”. 

The importance of the experience lies in how we narrate it and how such narration allows us to weave the story of ourselves. Whether one or a thousand, whether thrilling or taciturn, it is not important. One single experience can have a profound impact on our lives, more so than a collection of "places to visit," "restaurants to eat at," "movies to watch," or any such list. Experiences have intrinsic, not quantitative, value.

Pursuing happiness, satisfaction, and freedom is a human, active, and intimate search. If it is to be found somewhere, it is not in places shattered by capitalism. Happiness is achievable, and it can be found in a movie theater, in a barking dog that greets us, in a kiss that unites, in climbing a mountain, or in surfing a wave. Happiness is achievable, but the paths to it are elusive. Attempts to grasp it often result in its slipping away.

Capitalism has thrived because it is efficient and we haven't found a better system —yet. Nevertheless, it remains far from perfect, and to combat its adverse effects, we must first grant ourselves the possibility of envisioning a world liberated from its shackles.

We are a remarkable species of primates, capable of achieving the extraordinary, the awe-inspiring, and the seemingly impossible. Perhaps we could approach life with vital curiosity, looking for meaning, embracing the idea of experience as a verb —to experience— rather than the mere object of the verb "to consume.”