If I come across one more first-person account describing how the recession has helped someone “discover” that coupons are not only for cranky elderly ladies, I’m going to have to gouge out my eyes. Probably with my couponing scissors.
Come to think of it, I’d like to declare a moratorium on all articles extolling the “new” virtue of thrifty living, as if it was invented in late 2008 by people who think brown-bagging it once a week instead of going out to lunch counts as cutting back.
I guess the problem with all these articles for me is that they assume that until the Great Recession showed up, we Americans were spending money like it was water coming out of a super-deluxe rainforest showerhead. And maybe some of us were. But for most of the middle class families I know here in Montana, the current downturn is just the latest leak in an economic boat that we’ve been trying desperately to keep afloat for a long time. We were already brewing our coffee at home and shopping with coupons and bringing our lunches—and that was before a job loss or unexpected medical bills or a dying car blew a gigantic hole in our budgets.
These stories are just like the ones that will start blanketing the media right around the first of January, reminding us that losing weight is as easy as giving up soda and taking the stairs instead of the elevator. For those of us who don’t drink soda and always walk the stairs, it doesn’t help much. And for those of us who already did Cheap as a way of life, “new frugal” is of little help.
I also don’t appreciate the element of condescension that comes along with these stories—and the inevitable Madison Avenue ads that have started to accompany them. You know the tone, the “Oh, I just love how the economic meltdown is bringing our family together by forcing us to scrap our vacation plans to the Caribbean (this year) so that we can have a ‘staycation’!” As if there weren’t plenty of Americans who don’t get to holiday in the Caribbean—or anywhere else—at any time thanks to two decades of stagnant real wages and no guaranteed vacation time.
Reduced living standards don’t—in most cases—result in more family harmony, no matter how many ways the national discount retailers try to romanticize frozen pizza and board games. (See yesterday's post on Smurfit-Stone.) Tension about paying the bills mounts, spilling over into the lives of kids who don’t yet understand the value of a dollar, much less what it takes to run a household. Fear and anxiety keep people up at night, robbing them of sleep and peace of mind. Families are forced to live apart when one parent has to take a job far away and the house just won’t sell.
Come to think of it, I’d like to declare a moratorium on all articles extolling the “new” virtue of thrifty living, as if it was invented in late 2008 by people who think brown-bagging it once a week instead of going out to lunch counts as cutting back.
I guess the problem with all these articles for me is that they assume that until the Great Recession showed up, we Americans were spending money like it was water coming out of a super-deluxe rainforest showerhead. And maybe some of us were. But for most of the middle class families I know here in Montana, the current downturn is just the latest leak in an economic boat that we’ve been trying desperately to keep afloat for a long time. We were already brewing our coffee at home and shopping with coupons and bringing our lunches—and that was before a job loss or unexpected medical bills or a dying car blew a gigantic hole in our budgets.
These stories are just like the ones that will start blanketing the media right around the first of January, reminding us that losing weight is as easy as giving up soda and taking the stairs instead of the elevator. For those of us who don’t drink soda and always walk the stairs, it doesn’t help much. And for those of us who already did Cheap as a way of life, “new frugal” is of little help.
I also don’t appreciate the element of condescension that comes along with these stories—and the inevitable Madison Avenue ads that have started to accompany them. You know the tone, the “Oh, I just love how the economic meltdown is bringing our family together by forcing us to scrap our vacation plans to the Caribbean (this year) so that we can have a ‘staycation’!” As if there weren’t plenty of Americans who don’t get to holiday in the Caribbean—or anywhere else—at any time thanks to two decades of stagnant real wages and no guaranteed vacation time.
Reduced living standards don’t—in most cases—result in more family harmony, no matter how many ways the national discount retailers try to romanticize frozen pizza and board games. (See yesterday's post on Smurfit-Stone.) Tension about paying the bills mounts, spilling over into the lives of kids who don’t yet understand the value of a dollar, much less what it takes to run a household. Fear and anxiety keep people up at night, robbing them of sleep and peace of mind. Families are forced to live apart when one parent has to take a job far away and the house just won’t sell.
There’s a lot of talk out there about perceived threats to the traditional family. But as I see it, the traditional family—which I would define as people who love each other and want to live together in relative security and peace—is already under siege, and not by famous golfers who have extramarital affairs or gays and lesbians who want to marry. No, economic and social crises are at the root of the problem, and unfortunately, coupons and thrift can’t fix that. If I figure out what can, I’ll be sure to let you know.
(A version of this was published in yesterday's Business to Business.)