Summer, sales, and sin?

Cluefon
    By Dan Dudis

So anyway, I was walking home work at New York's Museum of Natural History one day this summer when I decided to drop by Saks Fifth Avenue and take a look around. After spending about half an hour walking around the mecca to all things Milanese, I headed for the exit.

I, along with a steady stream of fellow shoppers (many of whom could actually afford the latest fall fashions Saks was purveying, as evidenced by the boldly emblazoned shopping bags they clutched) poured out onto Fifth Ave. Before we had time to mechanically grab our sunglasses (excepting the prescient among us who had neglected to remove theirs in the first place), we were greeted by a sight that, to put it mildly, could not be good for business. Saks' business, that is.

Immediately outside the entrance to the retailer sat a (presumably) homeless man. He was wheelchair-bound, head tilted slightly heavenward, one eye blinded by cataracts, shaking a cup of change in our direction as we exited the building. The message was not altogether subtle: we were supposed to feel guilty about having spent lavishly in an opulent department store, what with the poverty and squalor that lay just outside Saks' rarefied world of Prada and YSL. Overcome with this guilt, we would then open our supposedly fat wallets to give this poor homeless man our spare change. What more could one ask? After plunking down $185 on a Versace T-shirt, a few dimes, nickels, and pennies isn't much, is it?

As I headed down Fifth Avenue towards the more affordable environs that beckoned at Lord &Taylor, I replayed the little scene in front of Saks over and over again in my mind. Just why should I--or anyone else--feel guilty about shopping at Saks?

Presumably, those who can afford to shop at Saks are the wealth-creators of American society. These people, through their hard work, business savvy, education, intelligence, or just plain old good luck have made America the wealthiest nation on earth, with the highest standard of living the world has ever known. Should they feel guilty about spending their money in a way that gives them pleasure?

To answer that question, one has to analyze just why people work. Why not just all lay out on the beach on work on our tans? The obvious answer is that people work to provide themselves with food and shelter. But, as mentioned earlier, American standards of living are far beyond the subsistence level. So the question then becomes, why do people work above and beyond the minimum required to secure themselves food and shelter?

The answer to this question is as obvious as it is disquieting (to some). People work in order to be able to afford nicer and nicer material things. Such motivation, the lynchpin of our very economic and societal well-being, is derided as materialism. Worse yet, as greed. The conflict between society's view of materialism as greed and the reality of its position at the center of the economic undergirdings of society, and even rational human nature, is a dark secret that many would consign to the closet along with Aunt Mable's bulimia and Cousin Daryl's Mary Hart obsession.

Michael Milken (or was it Ivan Boesky?) famously declared that "greed is good." Later, this candid remark was universally derided as emblematic of all that was wrong with the '80s--the conspicuous consumption, etc. But the question remains: is there anything fundamentally wrong about purchasing a $185 Versace T-shirt?

Hardly. Now that we've established that people work for material things that give them pleasure, how can we then decide that some forms of pleasure-giving things are more "right" than others? I work hard in school (and will likely do so in the working world) so that I may make a decent salary and someday perhaps purchase a beach house. For me, the beach is paramount. For others, it is that $185 Versace T-shirt, or a Porsche, or a ski chalet in the Swiss Alps, or cocaine. Whatever.

The desire to make money in order to be able to obtain these material things is not greed, nor is it something to feel guilty about. Greed--call it that if you must--is far from a bad thing; in fact, it is the great equalizer, the guarantor of the meritocracy. If only all corporations focused on their bottom lines (with a careful eye towards the well-being of the environment), there wouldn't be any discrimination cases like Texaco's. The best qualified--those who could create the most wealth for the corporation--would be hired. Race and gender would no longer be issues.

So yes, greed is good, and shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue should be as guilt-free as (and hopefully better-tasting than) those fat-free Snackwells cookies. And what of the plight of that homeless man? My reply is simple: that is what we pay taxes for. The government should ensure the well-being of the young and the infirm. I have little sympathy for those homeless who are of able mind and body. Should the safety net be woven a little bit tighter? Perhaps, but there will always be those who fall through the cracks. Do I think about that homeless man? Occasionally. Do I feel guilty? No. And neither should you.

Back to Opinion...