Will Rising Costs Change Our Lives, Or Our Lifestyles?

After Trump enacted a series of reciprocal tariffs on April 2, many are left wondering if the prices of the goods they have grown accustomed to consuming will shoot into the stratosphere. Regardless of one’s feelings about the tariffs, now is a good time to take a look at our consumer habits and consider what ought to change.

In Trump's view, these tariffs are meant to bring fairness to a global financial system that favors other countries. “I’ve decided for purposes of fairness that I will charge a reciprocal tariff,” Trump said at the tariff signing in February, according to PBS. “It’s fair to all. No other country can complain.”

Opponents of Trump’s audacious plan claim that tariffs will smother trade, increase prices, strain international relationships and slow local and global economies. Those who support Trump point to the disadvantage of the U.S.'s reliance on goods and components manufactured in China — a nation that openly considers itself an adversary to the U.S. — as a good reason to reshore manufacturing, perhaps through the market pressure tariffs provide.

Regardless of where you fall on the issue of tariffs, reshoring manufacturing, trade wars and the like, this moment provides a good opportunity to examine our spending and consumption. After all, would tariff-induced prices impact our lives and our lifestyles? Would changing the consumption habits that have characterized Americans since the 1970s be a bad thing?

When asked how he would change his spending habits in response to rising costs, Daniel Guilliams, a veteran attending Miramar College in California, said: “I’ll stop buying into the idea that I need to embrace consumerism and a life of frivolous acquisition of meaningless assets.”

Like most Americans, I have a wardrobe that would make my great-grandparents’ jaws drop. I own dozens of shirts, so many shoes that I lose track and shorts for every type of activity. I have formal shorts, lounge shorts and gym shorts. I even own a kimono. This is all despite the fact that I consider myself a prudent spender.

Today, we cannot live without accumulating stuff: clothes, televisions, iPads, delicate knick-knacks and gadgets. Much of this stuff — if we are being honest — is extremely shoddy. The clothes are polyester and the gadgets plastic, but we are addicted to the cheap convenience they provide. Going to the store and buying five articles of synthetic clothing feels better than buying one made of wool for the same price. Just like when we go to Golden Corral, we are able to live in the illusion of abundance.

“We have pet clothing industries, and obesity and heart disease kills more people than car crashes and guns,” said Adam Miller, a veteran and student at Lone Star Community College. “We consume so much [that] we have to outsource it overseas for literal slave and child labor. In other words, two-dollar earrings on Temu. If prices go up, I’m going to buy American.”

Don’t get me wrong: I like my electric tea kettle, my toaster, my small, handheld milk-frother and my coffee grinder. But if I had to keep one appliance I have in my kitchen, it would be our Kitchen-Aid. Why? Because my mom has owned one for over thirty years and it still works like new — a hope I don’t hold for my milk-frother or toaster.

Contemporary America is fast-paced, with new trends passing through the internet ecosystem monthly or even weekly. We are inundated with ads and influencers telling us that a new product will make us look the way we want, feel the way we want or seem the way we want.

But the feeling we get from these things is as plastic and cheap as they are. Perhaps instead of oscillating wildly between an illusion of scarcity and abundance, we can slow down and purchase less with more intention. Maybe we should ask ourselves: If this thing is not worth having for ten or thirty years, is it worth having at all?