Creating A "Green Future": The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 3 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

The argument about consumer goods and the American revolution has been shaped and researched by many scholars over the past twenty or so years.

But the historian most responsible for it is T. H. Breen. He articulated his argument first in a series of scholarly articles and then in his brilliant book The Marketplace of Revolution. His book is long, exceptionally well researched, and complex, but here’s the short version: (I’m simplifying his complex argument not because I think you’re stupid, but because I’m trying to be brief.)

The period from about 1600 to the 1800s marked what historians call a “consumer revolution.” (For more on this “revolution,” see, for example, the wikipedia article and this essay by Cary Carson, one of the most important scholars in the field.)

For the first time in history, large masses of people were able to afford (and could legally acquire) what we now think of as the basics of life: Chairs, tables, perhaps glass for a few windows. Porcelain dishes. More than one change of clothes. Leather shoes with pewter buckles. Meat every day. Tea and coffee. Sugar. Refined flour.

People living in the British empire, including the North American colonists, were particularly active participants in this social and cultural change. Indeed, the creation of the British empire rested in large part on the exchange of goods and raw materials.

This exchange functioned as the basic mechanism of British imperial development: England acquired property --- colonies --- all over the world, seeking ones that would provide enormous quantities of raw materials.

India, for example, provided tea and cotton. Asian colonies provided spices and silk. The West Indies provided sugar (and then molasses from which North Americans made rum). Africa provided slaves (which the British mostly traded to other countries). The North American colonies provide grain, timber, ore, and fish. (Yes, fish. Fishing was always one of the largest industries in British North America. The fish were caught, dried, and shipped to England or other colonies.)

The colonies provided these raw materials for manufacturers back in England, and then those same colonists, especially the ones in North America, bought and used the goods the manufacturers produced.

Next time: How consumer goods led to revolution

Creating A "Green Future": The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 2 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

People launch revolutions because they want something different (and, presumably, something better). But desire for something different/better coalesces into revolution only if large numbers of people share the same goal.

As important, they need to believe that they can trust one another even if they are separated by great distance and don’t know each other personally.

That’s because revolutions are group efforts: Resistance only pays off when large numbers of people are involved, but those individuals need to be able to work together, and they can only do that if they share some other commonality.

That was difficult in North America because for most of the colonial period, Virginians thoughts of themselves as Virginians, and people in Vermont thought of themselves as Vermonters.  They didn’t think of themselves as “Americans.”

Their other identity was as citizens of the British empire, but that meant that most people looked toward England for commonality, rather than in or toward North America.

Well, you say, they shared an aversion to taxes and oppression. Yes, they did  -- eventually. But only after they’d begun to contemplate revolution. At that point, they began to talk about taxes and oppression as a way to express what had already become a shared goal.

In other words, their political beliefs --- their ideology --- became a justification, not a cause. Moreover, theories about taxation and rhetoric about oppression were most useful to people like Thomas Jefferson. He was wealthy and exceptionally well-educated, and read political philosophy, and, as important, discussed it with people like John Adams, who was also wealthy and exceptionally well-educated.

But the vast majority of colonists were neither wealthy nor particularly well-educated. So political theory wasn’t going to get far with them.

Instead, that vast majority needed some other way to speak to the need for change at the outset. They needed to have some kind of shared language or shared material culture. And the way the colonial rebels “spoke” to one another was through consumer goods; or, more accurately, the decision to stop using consumer goods. (Today, we’d call that a boycott, but the term “boycott” only entered the English language more than a century later.)

Next time: Historians’ analysis of consumer action and the American revolution.

Creating A "Green" Future: The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 1

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

About two months ago, I read Daniel Goleman’s new book Ecological Intelligence. It’s terrific and I recommend it.

Among other things, he examines the ways in which consumer behavior can function as the catalyst for substantive, indeed, profound, ecological change.

One part of his argument is this: Thanks to the powers of digitization, it’s possible to track the “ecological life cycle” of any good --- ham, shoes, mascara, flooring, etc. --- and to inform consumers of that good’s life cycle, so that consumers can make point-of-sale decisions about whether to use Brand X or Brand Y, depending on its ecological history. (This life cycle history, by the way, is known as a Life Cycle Assessment.)

He argues that consumers will act ecologically when they have ready access to information; “ready” in this case meaning at the point of sale: while standing in the grocery or furniture store thinking about making the purchase. (Again, I'm simplifying a more complex argument.)

I was curious to know what other readers thought, so I went to Amazon. At the time (again, this was a couple of months ago), the only review consisted of the following:

Goleman's narrow view of ecological intelligence is limited to how to be a better consumer. He does not address the fundamental questions of our culture's core beliefs about our place as individuals in the greater ecosystem.

If you're looking for fresh ideas on expanding beyond relating to the world as a marketplace, you will probably be disappointed.

My reaction was “Gee, that guy doesn’t know much about history.” Because if he did, he’d know that the American revolution was fueled in large part by consumer-based action.

“Huh?” you say. “Consumer action? I thought the American revolution was about taxes and representation. What’s consumer action got to do with it?” Almost everything. Sure, taxes, representation, and Parliament’s excessive intrusion into colonial life helped fuel the revolution, but so did the colonists’ understanding of their actions as consumers.

Next time: Revolution, American and otherwise

Audience Participation Time: What Does the Word "Meat" Mean to You?

Anyone up for a little audience participation here? (And yes, I’m prepared to be completely mortified if no one responds.) I

just realized that the working title of my new book may not make any sense. The working title  is Carnivore Nation: Meat and the Making of Modern America. (We hot-shit writers refer to the titles of works-in-progress as “working” titles.) (What? You didn’t know I was a hot-shit writer? What’s the matter with you?) (I’m kidding.)

It’s not perfect (the word “nation” as part of a book title is on the verge of becoming a limp cliche), but it’s not bad.

In fact, given the book’s theme and content, it’s a good description: I’m using the production, processing, and consumption of “meat” to examine the fundamental conflicts that Americans experienced as they shifted from an agrarian to an industrial economy, and from a rural nation to an urban one. It will cover the period from 1870 to the present, and will look at beef, pork, and poultry.

But today, it occurred to me that “meat” may not be the most appropriate word choice. So after my long-winded introduction (and if you’re a regular, you know I’m prone to windy), here’s my question:

What does the word “meat” mean to you? If you saw that title, would you assume the book was about beef? And only beef? Or would you assume or expect that the word “meat” includes the three major flesh categories: beef, pork, and poultry?

Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated. (As they always are!) And if you’ve got ideas for a new title, let’s hear ‘em.