Visible Consumption Invisible Poverty

To our all too proud and “successful” readers,

   You probably figured from the title that today is your day in the spotlight. And it is time for you and I to talk about something that I suspect you have taken for granted.  

   Now, before you get defensive, I want you to know that this habit of yours, this need to purchase expensive and conspicuous products, should not make you feel unique. 

   In fact, it is so common in poor and dizzyingly unequal societies that some writers have described it as the “appeal of bling to the left-behind”. And I am sure you have not only seen this tradition in full display during recent red-carpet events but I am also all too certain that you have faked the required amount of disgust towards it.  

   Yes, yes. I know that you don't consider yourself to be “left behind”. Of course, you are “different”.  It goes without saying that you aren't at all like those that unashamedly flaunt their wealth for the world to see. Of course your success affords you the freedom to spend your money, however way you see fit. 

   Besides, it’s abundantly clear that you are buying the flashy cars, the expensive cellphones, the luxury watches and the branded attire for our benefit. So that we, the "less fortunate" and equally "less disciplined", are motivated by your luxe mindset and follow in your mighty footsteps.     

Poor Country, Rich Display

   But you see, my dear reader, your quarrel is not with me. It is with the likes of the Academy of Marketing Science, the Journal of Economic Psychology and the Journal of Psychology and Marketing. Which have all deemed your spending habits as being predictable, exhibitionistic and, for the most part, imitative.  

  What’s that? Foreigners could never understand you anyways?

  Then how about those fellow countrymen of yours that are accustomed to your brand of vocal and triumphant success. Those who have repeatedly critiqued this long and proud tradition of signaling wealth by incessantly purchasing and displaying luxury goods. And I am sure a proud and unabashed Ethiopian like yourself would never look down on the likes of ገብረሕይወት ባይከዳኝ, ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ ወልደሥላሴ and ከበደ ሚካኤል. Right?  

  So, now that I have your undivided attention, I think it is time to ask: why do those that live in dizzyingly poor countries feel the need to purchase and display goods that are far beyond the reach of their fellow citizens?

   To answer this question, we first need to go back approximately 120 years. To 19th century America and examine the work of an economist called Thorstein Velben. Never heard of him? Maybe you’ve heard one of his famous quotes: “Invention is the mother of necessity”? Well, who would have thought that the person you quoted in your meetings and morning motivational sessions also had something to say about your purchasing habits. 

    What exactly did he say? I’m glad you asked.

Our Conspicuous Consumption

   In his book, “The theory of the Leisure Class”, Velben did not shy away from identifying and critiquing a particularly common habit among those wealthy businessmen and well-to-do professionals of his time. This habit being their incessant need to tie their wealth with consumerism, their self-esteem as well as the personal worth of others.  

 In dubbing the phenomenon as conspicuous consumption, he argued that in a hierarchical society that divides people according to wealth and status, any effort to improve or display social standing will be intimately tied to the consumption of expensive and visible luxury goods. Simply because:

“In order to gain and to hold the esteem of men, wealth must be put in evidence, for esteem is awarded only on evidence.”

(1899)

   Now imagine my surprise when I found a very similar idea in “መንግሥት እና የህዝብ አስተዳደር”, a classic piece of writing from a famous figure in Ethiopian history. Someone who also happened to be a contemporary of Velben. In it, ነጋድራስ ገብረህይወት ባይከዳኝ expressed a very similar sentiment regarding our country’s proud leisure class and its obsession with deliberate displays of wealth; particularly in an era of dire income and social inequality. Take the following quote for example, one which perfectly incapsulates this sentiment: 

“በየከተማው ውስጥ የግንብ ቤትና ትንንሽ ጎዦ አጠገብ ላጠገብ ተሠርተው እናያለን። ባንዱ ቤት ውስጥ ትልቁ ጌታ ሕዝቡ ደክሞ ያፈራውን ገንዘብ በከንቱ ሲያባክን በጎዦው ውስጥ የሚኖረው ድኻ የሚበላውና የሚለብሰው አቷል። ባንዱ ቤት ጌትነቱ እየበዛ ሲሄድ ባንዱ ቤት ድኽነቱ እየሰፋ ይሄዳል። የጎዦውንና ያዲሱን ግንብ ቁመት ብናስተያይ ባገራችን ድኻና ጌታ እንዴት እየተራራቁ እንዲሄዱ ይገልጹልናል።”

(1916)

   And if you think that this link between conspicuousness, social status and dizzyingly apparent income inequality is only found in this book, think again. For you can find it in abundance in Ethiopian literature. 

  For example, take a look at the entertaining characterizations of “ማብለጭለጭ” in ፊታውራሪ ተክለ ሐዋርያት ተክለ ማርያም’s “የሕይወቴ ታሪክ” and “መሻሻል” in አቢይ አበበ’s “አውቀን እንታረም”. Need other examples? Then how about ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ ወልደሥላሴ’s “ወዳጄ ልቤ” as well as two of my favorite parables from ከበደ ሚካኤል; “እኛ ኢትዮጵያውያንና ምክር” and “የፈላስፎች ንግግር”. And if you don’t have the time to read these authors, then I guess I should make it clear that all of them were staunch critiques of the unhealthy relationship between social standing, the display of wealth and income inequality in Ethiopia. 

   And before you dismiss these works as either being too moralistic or outdated, it might interest you to know that most of their assertions have since been supported by the copious amount of research surrounding consumer psychology. 

A Long & Proud Tradition

   Whether it is called signaling, the desire for distinction, the need for uniqueness, the exhibitionistic motivation, impression management, invidious comparison, pecuniary emulation, prestige value or, my personal favorites, the bandwagon and snob effects, it is clear that all of these terminologies are trying to describe one important phenomenon. That is, using luxury goods as a means to create a respectable and unique social image is neither new to our country nor unique to our current batch of the leisure class. 

  Be it the expensive jewelry, the branded attire, the high-end cars or the need to own and display the latest smartphone, it is clear that the utility of these visible products does not solely lie in their intrinsic or functional quality. But rather in their ability to signal the wealth, uniqueness and social status of their owner. As Donald Levine put it: 

“The new Ethiopian nobility has been quick to incorporate the more conventional urban western forms of conspicuous consumption. Automobiles and chauffeurs, expensive European clothes, modern houses and scotch whiskey have become the common ingredients of their subculture.” 

(1965)

   And if you think that this type of behavior is abnormal in unequal societies likes ours, then you would be mistaken. For our high level of income inequality is only matched by our mass desire to be seen as successful, reputable and important. And in such a setting, there is no greater incentive to display one’s social status than the risk of being confused with the downtrodden and "insignificant". 

   So I say to you, my all too proud and “successful” readers, the next time someone tries to shame you or make you feel bad about your purchasing habits, let them know that you are part of a long and proud tradition. One of confusing utility with a price tag, worth with rarity and social validation with self-worth. 

    And to the rest of you that  claim that simplicity has always been the ultimate indication of prestige in Ethiopia, bear in mind that you, like them, also come from a long and proud tradition. One that has a history of confusing “መሻሻል” with “ማብለጭለጭ”, social standing with self-esteem and status with exhibiting wealth. To paraphrase notable writer and researcher Taddele Gebre-Hiwot  :  

"For even Lij Iyasu, at his lowest point, like all the other royalists that came before him, sought to be arrested in gold chains."

(2016)

   So the next time you are in Addis and see a luxury car parked next to some subsidized housing project, a 100,000 birr iPhone that does not have access to the Apple Store, an ever present AirPod that is always displayed but  rarely used, or a gated mansion next to a tin shack, be sure to remember one thing. Visible consumption and visible poverty are, and have always been, two sides of the same coin. 

For More on the Resources Used for This Work, Visit Gudu’s Catalogue by Clicking Here.