the importance differential

Obsolescence management, according to my continued evolution of the concept, is not about following arbitrarily self-designed and regulated constructs, as in the strictest of deontological ideals, but rather, and if you are familiar with my teleological inclinations this is of no shock value, an in-depth analysis of the trends of the trade that are my natural "consume and dispose" tendencies. This concerted effort to buy nothing new for the year, which may or may not prove to be such an arduous experiment, is a thesis statement for a paradigm shift in the ways I view money and economics, creation and destruction, politics and the polis it controls and, ultimately, the imperialism we suffer through and exert on others. Said in another way, it is the practice of devoting intention to my actions, the words that fuel those actions and the thoughts that give way to the words that open or close my ability to connect with others in meaningful ways. It is knowing what I am doing and doing what I know to be the right decision for my and other's reality.

I have been fielding many interesting "What if?" questions regarding this goal and a lot of them are the unexposed seams to this outfit, scenarios that are thrown (or would be thrown) at me as to identify "weak areas" where the original plan may crumble under my own lack of foresight. The truth to the answer I have been giving is that this commitment isn't my attempt to resurrect old pharisaism. Although I respect Kantian theory (to the extent I understand it), I am not acting out on rigid duty (however I am sure at some point, nay many points, in the year I will have to simply to get me past some of the otherwise hard-to-resist consumerism opportunities). I believe in some irrational things and tout many inverted philosophies but I would rather not feign impassioned resistance. The year isn't about choosing misery and it is not being forced upon me from a ruthless regime. If by abstaining in the purchase of some new item brings about for me an extensive sympathetic response and utter melancholy (and thus prohibits me from making meaningful connections with other), I will step outside the rules of this game and do it. Only, though, if it can be done with clarity in intention and philosophical backing. I am not so ignorant to believe that I am and will be free from the pressures of my market driven world.

Since the money I use to sustain my lifestyle isn't really my money (student loan-based income) and I receive that check without exchange of some service on my part (only the promise to repay with interest), it can't really be called money, in my opinion. It is a false sense of control over the luxuries I have deemed necessary for a "comfortable" and sensible way of existence. We all have that choice, an importance differential, but we do not all have the ability for it to be funded. This is where obsolescence management enters in. We must know what can and cannot be supported in our importance differential. Big deal, you say, a budget. Yet budgets are almost passé these days, thanks to the ease of credit. A budget, not to forget, can do little to address the oppression our monies may cause for others. I may set aside $50 for groceries each week, and that would help me get out of debt and start living free from the red (if that is even the truth is still disputed); yet, if I am filling my cupboards with Altria-based products (like Kraft) and never once think about the dirty connections that company has to life-destroying actions, how can I say that my budget is a sound and satisfying financial decision. I cannot and should not because to the least of these I have showed my grace, or lack thereof, and I, ultimately, want to find many ways to keep my hands clean of fraud, deception and death.

I took an informal poll of some of my peers on what draws their disposable pocketbooks (if they had one, of course) to open up and be released. The overwhelming majority? Travel. There is a permeating response of my generation to explore with our own eyes, to move past a two-dimensional Rand McNally World Map into a realm of personally perceived sensations. Reading about the people of Namibia is not enough when our passports can breakdown physical distance. Travel is in my top five, as well, and I wonder why I want to travel and how this creates life in myself and others or, a fear of mine, how this may actually destroy life instead. I asked people what they would want to spend their money on (all basic needs aside) because I realized not everyone would think my $7-yoga classes were worth the economical investment if I were trying to live closer to reality of simplicity and the poor ways of my fellow-oppressed brothers and sisters. I found myself in an internal defense meeting, justifying this choice to an unseen jury and I came quick to the merciful idea that each one of us goes through that importance differential differently. This experiment is also about increasing the access to mercy for others, buffering the karma of second chances to all of us. I may choose to spend money on yoga or travel as opposed to Louis Vuitton bags. Someone else may select the latter. If I want to encourage an environment that brings people together in meaningful and lasting ways, then I must be able to at least try to understand someone else's priority ranking. That does not mean I am priming myself to carry a $300 handbag. It just means I have another window to look through in an attempt to end prejudice. I need that. We all need that.