By s9a in Absurdity —

Consumerism and the Absurd Search for Fulfillment : A Tale of False Promises and Empty Shelves

As I sit in solitude, far from the humming neon lights of shopping malls and the endless scroll of online marketplaces, a thought takes root in my mind : the absurdity of life is magnified by our insatiable appetite for consumption. We have built a world where fulfillment is not only promised but also commodified — packaged, marketed, and sold to the highest bidder. Yet, when we unwrap the shiny packaging, all we find is a fleeting sensation, a whisper of joy that dissolves into the void. What lies at the heart of this paradox?

The Modern Religion of Consumerism

Consumerism is not merely an economic phenomenon; it is a cultural creed, a modern religion that thrives on the unrelenting promise of more. If Camus called life “absurd” because it presents no ultimate meaning, consumerism doubles down on this absurdity. It suggests that meaning can, in fact, be found — not in existence itself, but in accumulation. Yet the act of consumption, like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the hill, is endless. The moment we acquire the object of our desire, its allure evaporates, leaving us craving the next big thing.

Do we consume because we believe it will fulfill us, or because the absence of meaning terrifies us into perpetual distraction? This question haunts me every time I see a new advertisement, each one designed to prey on our insecurities, offering products as solutions to existential dilemmas.

The Promise of Fulfillment : A Mirage

Consumer culture thrives on the narrative of progress and self-improvement. It tells us that the latest gadget will make our lives easier, that the newest car will bring us status, that the trendiest outfit will make us desirable. But at what cost? The fulfillment it promises is transactional, temporary, and deeply contingent on external validation.

Fulfillment, I believe, is an internal state — a harmony between who we are and what we do. Yet consumerism externalizes this state, tying it to possessions and appearances. It leads us to measure our worth not by the depth of our thoughts or the quality of our relationships, but by the things we own. Isn’t this a betrayal of our deepest human aspirations?

Albert Camus wrote that the absurd arises from the conflict between our desire for meaning and the universe’s indifference. Consumerism exacerbates this tension by inserting itself as the mediator. It suggests that the absurd can be conquered — not by embracing it, as Camus advocated, but by distracting ourselves from it.

But here lies the irony : the more we consume, the more we are reminded of the void. Every object purchased, every fleeting moment of joy derived from it, eventually fades. The absurdity returns, more pronounced than before, mocking our efforts to escape it. Is it any wonder that consumer societies are plagued by anxiety, depression, and a pervasive sense of emptiness?

A Philosophical Interlude : The False Gods of the Market

Nietzsche proclaimed the death of God, and in His place, we have erected temples of commerce. The marketplace has become our sacred ground, advertising our sermons, and influencers our priests. Yet these gods, unlike the transcendent ones of old, demand constant sacrifice without offering redemption.

Is the marketplace not the ultimate reflection of humanity’s existential plight? It presents infinite choices but no ultimate answers. It feeds our desires but does not nourish our souls. And in this relentless pursuit of “more,” we lose sight of what truly matters — connection, purpose, and the quiet moments of being.

The Illusion of Choice

Consumerism also thrives on the illusion of freedom. The choices we make — between brands, models, and styles — are framed as expressions of individuality. But how free are we when our desires are meticulously engineered by algorithms, advertisements, and social pressures?

True freedom, I would argue, lies not in the act of choosing but in the ability to step back and question why we choose at all. What if the act of refusing to consume is the most radical expression of freedom in a world that equates existence with consumption?

If fulfillment cannot be purchased, why do we keep trying to buy it?

We attempt to buy fulfillment because consumerism thrives on the promise of solving our existential discomfort. From childhood, we are conditioned to equate possessions with happiness, self-worth, and success. Advertisements and social narratives portray consumption as the pathway to a better life, seducing us with images of joy, status, and belonging tied to material goods.

Yet this pursuit is a Sisyphean task. The satisfaction of buying is fleeting, a dopamine spike followed by a hollow realization that the object itself lacks the transformative power we were promised. The cycle perpetuates because consumerism doesn’t sell products — it sells hope, and hope is a commodity that can never truly be fulfilled.

At a deeper level, perhaps we keep trying to buy fulfillment because it is easier than confronting the unsettling truth: fulfillment is an internal, complex process that requires self-awareness, connection, and creation, none of which can be outsourced or commodified.

Does consumerism create desires, or does it exploit the ones already embedded in us?

It does both. Consumerism is a masterful manipulator, tapping into primal human desires — security, status, love, and belonging — and amplifying them into insatiable needs. It transforms fundamental instincts into marketable cravings, telling us we need more than we actually do.

For instance, the desire for acceptance is deeply human, but consumerism twists it into the belief that acceptance depends on wearing the “right” clothes or driving the “right” car. Similarly, the natural yearning for self-improvement is reframed as a never-ending quest for newer, better, more expensive possessions.

At the same time, consumerism creates entirely new desires by shaping societal norms and expectations. Did anyone “desire” a smartphone or an Instagram-worthy vacation before they were invented and marketed? Through cultural narratives and mass media, consumerism builds a scaffolding of false needs, making us believe that these are essential for a meaningful life.

What happens to a society that defines itself by what it consumes rather than what it creates?

A society defined by consumption becomes hollow. It loses its sense of identity, purpose, and connection to deeper human values. Creativity, innovation, and relationships — the hallmarks of a flourishing civilization — are devalued in favor of transactional exchanges. Such a society risks the following :

  • Erosion of Individual and Collective Meaning : If people measure their worth by what they own rather than what they contribute, genuine fulfillment becomes scarce, leading to widespread dissatisfaction and mental health crises.
  • Environmental Degradation : Rampant consumption necessitates overexploitation of resources, accelerating ecological collapse.
  • Shallow Relationships : People may prioritize appearances over authenticity, treating others as commodities to acquire validation.
  • Cultural Stagnation : Art, philosophy, and intellectual pursuits are sidelined as consumerism rewards only what can be monetized.

Ultimately, a society that worships consumption at the expense of creation risks becoming unsustainable, both spiritually and materially. It trades long-term resilience for short-term gratification, undermining its ability to adapt and thrive.

The Way Out : Creation Over Consumption

If consumption exacerbates the absurdity of life, creation might offer a way to confront it. To create is to assert one’s existence, to leave an imprint on the world that is uniquely ours. It is an act of rebellion against the nihilism of consumer culture, a statement that our worth lies not in what we own but in what we contribute.

Creation, whether through art, ideas, relationships, or community, connects us to something larger than ourselves. It is not a distraction but an engagement — a way of grappling with the absurd and finding beauty within it.

A Final Reflection : Beyond the Marketplace

As I write these words, I am struck by the simplicity of the moment. A quiet room, a cup of tea, the sound of rain outside. There is no product that can replicate this, no advertisement that can capture its essence. Perhaps fulfillment lies not in the things we seek but in the spaces we create for ourselves to simply be.

In the end, the search for fulfillment is both absurd and beautiful. Consumerism offers the former without the latter. It is up to us to reclaim the beauty, to resist the endless chase, and to find meaning not in what we consume, but in how we live.

Thanks for dropping by !

Disclaimer : Everything written above, I owe to the great minds I’ve encountered and the voices I’ve heard along the way.