The Consumerism Epidemic: How the Creator Economy Fuels Our Obsession

Saturday morning, with IVLs (ice vanilla lattes, duh) in hand, my girlfriends and I were casually strolling down the streets in Venice. Suddenly, we spotted a huge group of people gathering around a vibrant food truck. Failing to hide our curiosity, we jaywalked across the busy street, eager to figure out what was going on.

It was a pop-up promotion for a supplement company. The workers were excited and welcoming, the freebies were adorable and generous, and on top of that, we got to enjoy a free drink or pastry infused with their $42 collagen powder. Sure, why not! But when I took a sip of the drink, I almost did a real-life spit take. It didn't take me more than two blocks to give up on my drink, and I noticed many others did the same after glancing into the trash can.

If you happen to be in LA, you will be surprised to see the sheer amount of collagen powder products if you take a trip to Erewhon. The prices range from $30 to $120, all aiming to solve your biggest fears: aging and loose skin.

The Rise of Consumerism

The rise of consumerism first started after World War II. With wartime production reviving the American economy from depression, many Americans suddenly experienced a remarkable rise in their purchasing power. In the 1950s, television and automobile sales skyrocketed, simultaneously creating an increasing desire for other consumer goods. The ability to purchase suddenly became a signal of high purchasing power and status, creating a growing desire for more.

Its manifestation in recent decades continues. In the early 2000s, Amazon’s rise to become the largest e-commerce platform transformed the way consumers purchase goods. Suddenly, you have access to an enormous number of products from the comfort of your own home. In the 2010s, YouTube spearheaded the “creator economy.” Creators soon discovered immense opportunities in using their reach to promote products. Whether developing a brand themselves or being compensated to review a product, brand promotion has become a lucrative business model and a big portion of influencers’ paychecks. Fast forward to today, consumer spending accounts for nearly 70 percent of the total U.S. economy, according to a US Bank article.

Excessive Product Creation, but Very Few Innovations and Differentiation

My friend Lora opened her drawer, and my jaw dropped to her pink-tiled floor: Rhode’s Peptide Lip Treatment, Laneige Lip Mask, Summer Fridays Lip Butter, Glossier Balm Dotcom… Just to name a few. They are all lip balms, all selling for around $20 in retail with very similar ingredient compositions, but I can't help wonder why she needs so many of them or if they are any different from the $4 Aquaphor.

It is not a new strategy to target female consumers with vibrant branding and marketing, especially if the reward is a more than 60% profit margin. According to Y Chart data, as of March 2024, cosmetic conglomerate Estee Lauder has a gross profit margin of 71.9%. This is not a startling figure in the cosmetic industry. Companies invest heavily in the best design, social media marketing, and branding professionals to put together a compelling story to convince consumers that their $24 antioxidant-packed, exclusive-at-Sephora lip balm is superior and I can't help but admire the true brilliance behind this arranged marriage between consumerism and the creator economy.

The intention behind product creation has quickly shifted to a profit-driven mission, instead of one that prioritizes innovation or functionality. Because there is little to no incentive for craftsmanship, which requires more time and capital. Alternatively, with a vibrant design and an influential ambassador, you can sell anything with a side of “vibe.”

Make Minimalism Sexy Again

As Lora tossed out half of the drawer of lip balms that had been opened for more than 24 months and were still nearly full, I wondered if she would’ve been happier (and richer) if she was tossing out one single empty tube instead. Cosmetic products generally have a lifespan of 12 to 24 months after first use, as they oxidize and accumulate bacteria over each use. Spreading use between dozens of lip balms, Lora sadly found herself having to dispose 80% of them. “Except the one I always gravitate towards,” she said, “the rest are more than half full,” as she 3-point-shot another into the trash can.

The addiction to products is a psychological trap many are trying to escape from. The high of online checkout, the anticipation of the delivery process, the novel experience of unboxing, the first interaction with the product, and, of course, the prestige of owning.

But let’s put all that aside and challenge ourselves to spot things that serve the same purpose in our household. What do you see? Maybe a toaster oven and an air fryer sitting side by side? Maybe a brand-new Breville barista machine on the counter and an old Nespresso in the far corner? Maybe, like Lora, many lip balms in different packaging and eyeshadow palettes with the same color themes?

The environmental impact of a “product economy” is substantial. Over 45% of greenhouse gas emissions come from the production of goods all over the world, and 20% of water pollution is produced by clothing production. I think it is crucial to be mindful before you tap your Apple Pay for an expedited checkout, to really consider the use of the product you are purchasing and the long-lasting impact you create.

If that wasn’t convincing enough, think about the amount of markup you paid for the package design and the influencer who convinced you to buy yet never used the product again themselves in their life.