How did Demand Get so High?
Last month I was speaking at a conference as part of a panel discussion about net zero in hospitality design, as the industry continues to look for solutions that are better environmentally and lower in carbon. It was a welcome and much-needed conversation as businesses clamber for ideas and solutions to the environmental crisis that is upon us.
It is often easy to focus on the negagtives when it comes to the environment and social inequality. However, there are some brilliant things happening in the design, manufacturing and construction industries. The adoption of circular design principles, developers achieving their Net Zero targets, a great understanding and appreciation of product lifecycles and waste, and an increasingly educated consumer demanding more in terms of sustainability. But a crucial piece of the conversation continually gets missed and that is humanity’s rapidly growing demands. Unrealistic and unnecessary demands — wants rather than needs. Stimulated demand to encourage the consumption for goods and accelerate the production of waste. Yes, we can make better products, reduce and possibly eliminate waste, and clean our energy sector. But the consumption and demand for goods is always going to put pressure on resources and energy, so it is crucial that we understand why such demand exists, and what we can do to recalibrate our behaviour. In this article I will explore where our current levels of consumer demand have come from, and what we should be doing as we move further ahead into the 21st century, to make better environmental and social choices.
The beginning
The late nineteenth century heralded the dawn of mass production and sowed the seeds of the linear system and the consumer culture that permeates every facet of our society today. However, one hundred and fifty years ago, the world was a very different place. Then, the demand for goods was very low, and the burden placed on the natural world was minimal. In a world of apparent abundance, humanity didn’t overly concern itself with the idea of resource scarcity or the impact of an extractive economy. Fast forward a century and a half, and our demand for goods has grown immeasurably, revealing systemic deficiencies, and highlighting the trail of destruction.
The first reason for this increased demand is population growth. Historically, the impact of our consumer culture was less apparent because there were fewer people, and a smaller portion of society held the spending power. Back in the 1950s, the global population was approximately 2.6 billion. By 2018, it had almost tripled to 7.7 billion.[1] Also, in more recent years, the so-called ‘developing nations’ have fully emerged, with a thirst for consumer goods and a hunger for materials and resources. With these changes, our habits have become more impactful.
Going Global
Another critical factor in accelerating the consumption of goods has been the birth and growth of globalisation and free trade, which has redistributed wealth and power and opened up new markets. I am not someone who is passionately in favour of or opposed to globalisation. Like most things, there are positives and negatives. But what is undeniable, is that globalisation has supercharged the world’s economy and forged international partnerships and collaborations. Business is now a global enterprise, whether you like it or not. As a British business, we recently designed a hotel in the Middle East, and the pursuit of suppliers and manufacturers took us on a journey from the UK to Germany, the Netherlands, France, Turkey, China, Lebanon, Cyprus, the US, and even as far as New Zealand.
For advocates of globalisation, the benefits are clear. Companies can reach for business opportunities beyond their shores. They can access a greater pool of talented companies and individuals. But crucially, they can benefit from the highly competitive markets between countries, which have brought down the overall cost of goods. The slashing of prices — as a result of competitive free trade — has also benefited large parts of the global population, democratising retail and making consumerism more accessible. It is no longer the pastime of a small privileged group of wealthy countries and individuals. To many advocates, globalisation also brings wealth to emerging countries — improving jobs and the overall standard of living, as well as access to culture and technology. From a free-market perspective, open, free-moving trade is good for society because we reach a natural equilibrium based on supply and demand. Ultimately, the cost of living will balance with the income from work, and that helps to keep the price of commodities in check. In this case, there is a strong belief that state intervention and regulation is not necessary because the markets can decide the best outcomes for themselves.
In his book, The Enigma of Capital, David Harvey, a renowned economist and professor of anthropology and geography writes that; ‘going global, was facilitated by a radical reorganisation of transport systems that reduced cost of movement’.[2] By reducing the cost of movement and transportation, industry lubricated the wheels of trade, making the transfer of materials, goods and services quicker and easier. But as trade barriers diminish, and transport costs tumble, we create a dilemma, because decisions that seem reasonable economically are both damaging and illogical environmentally. For example, wealthy countries like the US, shipping millions of tonnes of post-consumer waste to poorer nations; saving money and covering up the deficiencies in their own waste management systems.[3] Or in the case of countries like the U.K., deindustrialising to such an extent that we are entirely dependent on imported goods to sustain our way of life. In the spring of 2020, Covid-19, laid bare the deficiencies in this approach as countries dependent on global trade scurried around for medicine and protective equipment. It showed that societies over-relying on international trade can become incredibly vulnerable when access to goods is restricted and challenging.
Another problem as a consequence of global trade — predicated on a linear system of consumption — is that it allows us to consume beyond our means. Borders no longer confine us. While this has clear economic benefits, it is a disastrous strategy when it comes to managing our materials and resources because there are no obvious checks and balances in place. Supporters of international free trade argue that economies naturally correct themselves through supply and demand, and to a large extent, this is true. But the last thirty years have demonstrated that this principle does not work when it comes to environmental protection because we only tend to measure the economic value of the resource as a commodity and ignore where the value lies elsewhere. For example, the role that forests and woodlands play in sequestering carbon, maintaining soil quality and sustaining delicately balanced eco-systems. If we wait for the markets to correct imbalances, i.e. a shortage of timber, pushing up prices and lowering consumption, then the damage has already been done. All of the other values and benefits, like capturing carbon, reducing pollution and maintaining productive land, are lost.
Throwaway Society
A third reason why demand has increased so greatly is much of the world has moved towards a disposable way of living. In the last thirty years, society has changed dramatically — armies of people marching between their homes and offices, clutching their coffees and snacks, shrouded in paper, cardboard, and plastic. In the pursuit of ease and convenience and to save time, we have surrounded ourselves with throwaway items, many of which originate from renewables — products such as kitchen towel, packaging, disposable cutlery and coffee stirrers. To put this consumption in perspective, the UK uses approximately 2.5 billion disposable coffee cups a year, the equivalent of one million trees, which uses 1.5 billion litres of water.[4] In addition, the vast majority of cups are coated with plastic internally to improve performance. As we quite rightly restrict the use of single-use plastic, companies turn their attention towards biodegradable alternatives, but while this has some benefit, it fails to address the throwaway culture and the inadequate waste management systems that are central to the problem. The example of the coffee cup applies to the vast majority of consumer goods where our environmental solutions maintain or encourage consumption but fail to acknowledge the impact of excessive material extraction.
But our existence as a truly throwaway society does not stop at sandwich boxes and drinks cartons. If it did, we would not be in such a mess. It is a cultural problem that permeates every aspect of our lives, affecting almost every consumer purchase we make, including high-ticket items like interiors and home furnishing. Products that were once long-term investments have become temporary, in a sense, as consumers no longer expect or want items to last as long as they once did.
The origins of this change can be attributed to the decades that followed World War II. By the 1950 and 1960s, designs icons like Frank Lloyd Wright, Charles & Ray Eames and Sir Terence Conran set about revolutionising the design industry. In the case of Conran, democratising good design and bringing modern, elegant furniture into British homes. For most previous generations, houses were somewhat drab. Dull, heavy and dimly lit spaces full of clutter, heirlooms and hand-me-downs. While in today’s world, we can look back on the styles of the forties and fifties with a sense of charm and nostalgia, in the sixties there was an appetite for change, for simple, clean, light interiors. Before this period, homes evolved slowly over time. For most people, it would have been unimaginable to wipe the slate clean and create a brand new interior space from scratch. But Conran tapped into this desire, facilitating change by educating the public, embracing modern manufacturing methods and bringing costs down.
The legacy of Sir Terence Conran, in part, was to successfully bring quality design to the masses. Still, as the decades rolled by, and our appetites for home furnishings and accessories grew, globalisation thrived, and the market became ever more competitive. In the years since, characteristics such as quality and longevity became less attractive as more and more companies fought to make products more cheaply, targeting ever-increasing volumes of consumption, based on ever diminishing margins. But for this business strategy to be effective, it requires a high turnover of goods, or churn, encouraging people to freshen up their homes regularly. How else can a company justify making products so cheaply, like the Lack side table from Ikea at £7.00 or a folding chair from Target at $9.99? I agree with the notion that good design should be accessible to the masses. Stylish, elegant and well made, fairly priced and built to last. But this is not the case in the vast majority of instances. Too often, we are bringing poor quality design to the masses; driven by trends with no long term value. The final product is low in price, and often poorly made.
As a designer, I am part of an industry that artificially stimulates demand by embracing trends and frequent style changes. Until now, supply has managed to keep pace, but based on a linear system, we know it cannot keep up indefinitely. While increased consumption triggers economic growth, it is only the case so long as the materials and resources are available. It is clear in the long term that an economy based on the linear system does not make sense environmentally or economically. With our appetite for goods increasing, we continue to get mostly unrestricted access to materials. Still, in doing so, we apply unrelenting downward pressure on our resource base with minimal checks and balances. In truth, while consumers want to spend and suppliers want to sell, no one is willing to slow supply down even if it means creating long-term environmental damage.
If we are to thrive in the future, we need to curb the insatiable appetite for newness. We need to react to genuine demand, where a product or service offers real value or benefit, rather than responding to trends and fads that encourage us to discard objects of value, simply because they become unfashionable.
We need to recalibrate the idea that it is acceptable for furniture to last 2–3 years when it is capable of lasting for many decades if it is designed and maintained as it should be. As I mentioned at the beginning, yes, we can make better products. We can and should invest in circularity, quality and longevity. But we also need to control the consumerist instinct that resides in all of us, which is damaging to the environment and your pocket.
References
[1] United Nations. ‘Global issues: Population’. 2020, www.un.org/en/global-issues/population
[2] Harvey, David. ‘The Enigma of Capital, and the Crises of Capitalism.’London, Profile Books, 2010.
[3] Parker, Laura. ‘China’s ban on trash imports shifts waste crisis to Southeast Asia.’ National Geographic, 16 November 2018, www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/article/china-ban-plastic-trash-imports-shifts-waste-crisis-southeast-asia-malaysia
[4] Doward, Jamie. ‘Why Britains’s 2.5 billion paper coffee cups are an eco disaster.’ The Guardian, Guardian News & Media Limited, 26 April 2020, www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/apr/26/why-britains-25-billion-paper-coffee-cups-are-an-eco-disaster