Darwinian Consumption: The Pseudo-Science Justifying Consumer Exploitation

It's basically saying, "Relax, it's in your genes. Go ahead, keep swiping that card."

Let me start by saying that, like most people, I enjoy having nice things. There's a simple, very human satisfaction in buying something new and shiny.  But obviously, nice things aren't cheap, and I've often been made to believe that if I want happiness or even a sense of belonging, it comes with a price tag. And the rather funny part is, I've played into that narrative.

Lately, though, I've been restless. It's hard to ignore the growing inequalities all around, the systemic wage gaps, and the ever-widening rift between the uber-wealthy and the majority of the human population. I've found myself questioning what it means to be a "consumer" in a world where economic injustices run rampant. It's been pushing me to scrutinize my own role in this grand scheme of consumerism.

Then, I stumbled upon this theory called Darwinian Consumption. I couldn't shake it off, and not in a good way. The idea, proposed by Gad Saad, suggests that our consumption choices are deeply tied to evolutionary instincts like survival and reproduction, implying that buying and consuming are just in the very fabric of our nature. The more I thought about it, the more it made me absolutely furious. Because here's my thing; it felt like a reductionist cop-out, one that conveniently strips consumerism of its complex socioeconomic roots and pacifies any doubts we might have about this not-so-free market we're all trapped in.

This theory seems to wave away corporations' exploitative practices and the engineered desires they plant in us, subtly convincing consumers that this endless cycle of buying is somehow "natural." And that's the part that really got under my skin—the suggestion that our entrapment in consumerism is not just inevitable but seemingly a biological requirement. It's basically saying, "Relax, it's in your genes. Go ahead, keep swiping that card."

I would imagine that attributing consumer behaviors solely to evolutionary drives and sidestepping the role of consumer manipulation in the process is a pretty convenient thing to teach in business school.

But let me try to be rational for the sake of this argument; in no way am I disregarding the human nature of basic consumption. However, to frame consumerism as some unavoidable evolutionary destiny and not a constructed normalcy designed to keep us sedated in an economy that thrives on our compliance is borderline insane.

Gad Saad's Darwinian Consumption theory argues that consumer behaviors are fundamentally anchored in four key evolutionary drives: survival, reproduction, kin selection, and reciprocal altruism. He argues that our inclination for calorie-dense foods, luxurious goods, and status symbols stems from these primal instincts, which have been ingrained in human nature over millennia. A framework of absolute capitalist lunacy that suggests many of our modern consumer choices—such as indulging in fast food or buying luxury items to signal status—are biologically adaptive responses to ancient survival challenges.

This overly simplistic and reductionist view overlooks the impact of modern capitalism and cultural conditioning. By framing consumerism as an extension of evolutionary survival strategies, it completely shifts the narrative, ignoring how corporations shape desires and manipulate behaviors through engineered marketing. Labeling toxic and possibly harmful consumption habits as "natural" or "instinctive" becomes the perfect and most sinister enabler for systems designed to perpetuate consumerism.

Contemporary capitalism thrives on pushing people into perpetual consumption through multiple coercive mechanisms. Arguably, the most prominent method is how social media has almost completely reshaped its purpose, seemingly acting like some kind of a pocket billboard, where algorithms are finely tuned to exploit emotional and psychological vulnerabilities constantly. Companies design campaigns and personalized ads to play on fears of inadequacy, social isolation, or missing out. The rise of influencer marketing, in particular, has amplified this pressure, creating aspirational standards that the average person is implicitly urged to emulate through consumption.

However, this form of socioeconomic coercion seems to extend beyond mere advertising. Corporations engineer product obsolescence and scarcity, perpetuating the need to buy the latest versions of everything (Hi, Tim Cook). By exploiting consumers' fear of missing out and social comparison, the market incentivizes constant upgrades, leading to what is often called "planned obsolescence." 

Addictive consumption, i.e., compulsive shopping or gambling, ties into this coercion. For an academic of Gad Saad's supposed status, you'd think a logical argument would be that reward loops and micro-transactions encourage repetitive spending, which is like poking at cognitive vulnerabilities rather than unsolicited evolutionary behavior. The market leverages status anxiety and materialism, exploiting the human desire for acceptance and validation to sell products that promise fleeting feelings of fulfillment.

The relentless push to consume isn't rooted in biological imperatives; it's a cultural and systemic construct designed to maintain the economic order, which, in one way or another, almost exposes the illusion of social mobility being an actual thing. Where Saad might attribute these behaviors to evolutionary drives, the reality seems more grounded in social dynamics, where profit maximization takes precedence over all types of moral considerations.

To be fair, though, excessive consumption also indicates a broader failure in self-governance. Both sellers and consumers participate in a system that encourages overconsumption and enormously rewards greed. Sellers prioritize profit margins, often manipulating scarcity, engineering impulse buys, or offering deceptive promotions to drive sales. Meanwhile, the market subtly discourages restraint, presenting consumerism as a social obligation.

Natural human restraint is already flawed as is. But, strategies that foster impulse buying and instant gratification systematically undermine the ability to pause, reflect, and avoid excess. Take, for instance, the oh-so-notorious "Black Friday," a heinous practice that triggers urgency and, by all means, overrides rational decision-making and consumer behavior. With every passing year, thanks in part to social media, it's more evident how this is only a calculated attempt to prey on financial insecurities and the human tendency to respond impulsively to perceived scarcity.

On the consumer's side, the lack of self-governance manifests in the difficulty of resisting temptations that are continually reinforced by ever-changing social norms. Rather than fulfilling genuine needs, consumerism caters to manufactured wants driven by a market that feeds on dissatisfaction, making the practice of restraint awfully exhausting and almost demotivating​.

Corporate strategists posing as pseudo-psychologists seem to have masterfully framed consumerism as an inescapable reality, something deeply embedded in human nature. Gad Saad's theory of Darwinian Consumption fits neatly into this narrative by suggesting that our consumer choices stem from evolutionary instincts and are thus biologically inevitable. Such rhetoric is almost a catalyst for a dystopian society. Dangerously absolving the hegemonic economic system of its role in shaping desires and perpetuating inequalities, focusing solely on evolutionary drives, diminishing the broader social and economic mechanisms that have turned consumerism into a central pillar of modern life.

Rather than questioning corporations' exploitative practices or the artificially constructed aspirations that drive people to overconsume, this perspective further legitimizes the status quo. It subtly conveys the message that our entrapment in cycles of buying and upgrading is not just inevitable but somehow "natural," sidestepping any critical examination of corporate power, social engineering, and economic inequality. Doing so reinforces a narrative that pacifies consumers, dissuading them from challenging the underlying systemic issues.