Attempts to Resist Black Friday Madness

And my quest to tone down on my consumerist habits

With this newsletter hitting your inbox on the Tuesday after U.S. Thanksgiving, I’m sure by now you’ve been awash in approximately 2 million emails from every company you’ve ever purchased anything from alerting you of their very big Black Friday/Cyber Monday deals. Nothing like the holiday season to encourage our participation in late-stage capitalism. And, my friends, it’s a beast to resist.

I write this not as someone who is actively doing a good job at resisting capitalistic tendencies. I’m writing this as someone who saw those Black Friday deals two weeks before the actual day itself and made a few unnecessary purchases. These were not gifts, mind you, well, not all of them. These were things that we wanted for our house. In fact, we made a deal with all the adults in our family that we would not be purchasing gifts for any grown-ups and we do not want gifts from others. The kids can receive gifts (within reason), of course. The goal was to keep the unnecessary purchases at bay because we’re privileged people and don’t need anything more than we have. But the pull of Black Friday deals is so damn hard to resist.

That pull to buy shit is sadly helping to ruin our planet. In the UK alone , which only adopted “Black Friday” a decade or so ago, over 400,000 tons of carbon emissions are from Black Friday shopping (don’t know why I can’t find US Black Friday stats). Global shipping emissions contribute to around 3% of greenhouse gas emissions. If we don’t tone down our consumption habits, the shipping industry could contribute around 17% of GHG emissions by 2050. And it’s not just shipping that contributes to emissions, but the cost of actually making this shit. The apparel and footwear industry contributes about 8-10% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions. The electronic industry contributed about 580 metric tons of carbon emissions in 2020 and, according to UC Irvine researchers, carbon emissions from electronics could increase to 852 million metric tons of carbon a year by 2030 from e-waste. 

Knowing all of this, there’s still some psychological pull to accumulating stuff, especially around this time of year. True that my family isn’t that bad at accumulating stuff compared to the average American. We do our best to go low waste and not buy unnecessary single-use items and we buy second hand whenever possible. And I really try to buy small and buy local in order to avoid the dreaded Amazon. But we’re not good either. We fancy ourselves minimalists, but I have a closet full of more clothes and shoes than I ever wear. My kid gets a new toy more often than I care to admit. And don’t get me started on the number of kitchen implements we have. 

We go through cycles attempting to buy less or to consume more consciously. We’re usually successful at first, but inevitably we’re drawn in by something and all of a sudden a box of brand-new sheets that we don’t need are on our doorstep. The pull is strong especially when the deals are hot. And because of this I know we need a reset. I need a reset.

Because I’m on this apocalypse preparedness journey, the consumption dissonance this holiday season feels even more acute. I’ve probably purchased less this year than in the past. But the journey has made me notice what I’m buying. This increased awareness has enlightened me about how much of my buyin is unnecessary. The awareness is the first part, the next step is the intervention. That intervention (that reset, if you will) will be a No-Buy Year–or a low buy year to give myself a tiny bit of grace). A No-Buy Year is essentially dedicating a full year to spending money on only what you actually need.

I was first intrigued by this concept in this How to Save a Planet podcast episode about a beauty influencer who wants people to buy less stuff. In particular, the psychological impact of the No-Buy Year was so interesting to me. The influencer talked about how actively working to resist buying new stuff reset the way she thought about consuming. I need that reset. 

So as I plow on through the holiday season attempting to buy less, I’m also going to be researching the No-Buy Year and setting myself up for a 2023 of consuming less and living more intentionally. In the meantime, I would love to hear from anyone who’s doing this or has tried a No-Buy Year. What resources worked for you? What tips do you have for me as I get started?