Hey friend,
Is it possible to be a consumer in a more ethical way? As a person who loves STUFF, and who especially loves SHOPPING FOR STUFF, this is a question I’m constantly pondering.
I grew up without a lot of money, so I have known the feeling of wanting stuff and not being able to get it for as long as I can remember. How I yearned for a fresh Jansport backpack in a saturated jewel tone with an embroidered rectangular logo on the pocket. Instead I carried my books to kindergarten in a secondhand navy nylon duffel bag, and my cheeks burned with shame.
Despite not having a ton of money, (or perhaps because of it) my family loved shopping. We shopped as a hobby. We went to yard sales seemingly every Saturday morning for much of my youth. My parents went weekly to Wal-Mart on Friday nights for their “date night.” As a teenager, I spent every cent of my baby-sitting money on vintage clothes at the Salvation Army on the shabby main street of my hometown.
In my adult life, these patterns persisted. As a newly minted grownup, I loved doing my own grocery shopping, relished the pleasure and power of selecting mustards and jams and boxes of cereal at the Winn-Dixie near my apartment.
In the past five years, I’ve experienced what we can only call class ascendance, suddenly making more money than I ever had, more money than I really knew what to do with. I know how to do one thing, though: SHOP.
I’ve bought stuff I needed: a raincoat that didn’t leak, a mattress that didn’t sag. I’ve bought stuff I could’ve lived without but boy is it nice to have: new pots and pans, new sheets that aren’t scratchy. I’ve bought stuff I absolutely don’t need but love anyway: slow-fashion pants in wild patterns, books on every subject under the sun. And I’ve also bought stuff I didn’t need, didn’t like, and didn’t even really want: shoes from targeted ads, random doodads in the checkout line.
Is it possible to shop in a “good” way? Inside capitalism, is there such a thing as being moral? If not, how can I reduce the harm I’m causing with my purchases?
In the past, I didn’t think too much about the ethical implications of shopping because one, I didn’t have very much to spend, and two, I pretty much exclusively bought secondhand. But in my new financial position, these questions are much more relevant.
We’ve heard it before: “There is no ethical consumption under capitalism,” and if we take this at face value, we should all stop buying stuff immediately. But in our lives here, in 2026, that’s not possible. Our labor is not optional and neither is much of our purchasing. So we have to do what we can to reduce the harm we’re causing.
Capitalism trains us to always want more, to always get the most for the least, and to never care about the downward effects of our behaviors. An anticapitalist approach to commerce instead invites us to learn to be satisfied with what we have, to strive for reciprocal exchange with the businesses we buy from, and to remain clear-eyed about the ways our purchases contribute to harm.
Here are some specific ways we can try to do that. This is not meant to be prescriptive or didactic. This is meant as a line of inquiry I’m continually pursuing in my own purchasing life, and I invite you along in this pursuit as well.
Acknowledge the harm that capitalism causes. All labor under capitalism is coerced; all coercion is unethical. All products and services are created and provided by labor that wasn’t freely chosen. We cannot pretend otherwise.
Avoid buying unnecessarily, and continually re-evaluate what is necessary. Some stuff we have to buy for survival, like food, basic clothing, etc. Some stuff we buy for joy or ease or convenience. I’m personally trying to work on not amassing so much stuff! My weak spots are still vintage clothing and kitchen gadgets. I remind myself that I have what I need, and a lot of what I like, and it’s okay to not have everything.
Divest from corporations that are doing the most harm whenever possible. You know the ones: Amazon is our favorite villain, but there are lots of others. Shop locally when you can. If you can afford it, buy from small businesses.
Shop secondhand! Buying secondhand for me reduces a lot of the guilt I feel about having to participate in commerce in a coerced way. I love to shop for clothes secondhand, but I also buy furniture, household goods, and tech secondhand anytime I can.
Don’t always pick the lowest price. This one might be the most controversial on the list. Because capitalism has us well-trained to protect ourselves from possible exploitation, we can interpret paying anything but the lowest available price as being preyed upon by business owners. But if we zoom out, we can see that so many low prices are that way because of the exploitation of workers and the environment. Wouldn’t it be better to pay more for a product that causes less harm or does more good? Small farms charge more for a dozen eggs than you pay at the grocery store. When you pay those extra dollars, you’re supporting the farmer, the chickens, and the land on which they were raised. The local hardware store has higher prices for paint than the Home Depot. The extra money you spend supports the worker, the store owner, and the local economy. Picking the higher price means investing in a more humane world.
Be willing to be inconvenienced. We’ve been sold a myth that says a more convenient life is a better life, and I want to really question that in my own day to day. Getting my groceries delivered from Amazon is certainly more convenient than schlepping to the grocery store on the subway in New York. But is there anything I lose out on? When I do the shopping myself, I get exercise that is good for my body. I see my neighbors and have tiny social interactions that make me feel more warmly about people. I see the sky and maybe even hear a bird chirp. I feel connected to my community and my place within it.
This list is not exhaustive, and it certainly won’t fix capitalism. But our tiny actions matter for reducing harm in our current world and preparing us for the world to come. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Warmly,
Bear