THE AFFLICTIONS OF AFFLUENCE

The Washington Post
By Robert J. Samuelson
March 17, 2004

It may seem a bit unnatural, but more and more of our social problems and complaints stem from our affluence, not our poverty. Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy G. Thompson made that point last week -- unintentionally, to be sure -- when he announced that obesity now rivals smoking as the largest cause of premature death. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reckons that obesity contributes to about 400,000 deaths annually, just behind tobacco (435,000) and ahead of alcohol (85,000), car accidents (43,000) and guns (29,000). Obesity and its complications -- more diabetes and heart disease, for instance -- now account for an estimated 9 percent of U.S. health spending. When we were poorer, obesity was not a big problem.

The supposed villains here are fast-food restaurants and food companies that have supersized us to corpulence. There's some truth to this, but the larger and more boring truth is that food has gotten cheaper, and as a result, we consume more of it -- and more away from home. In 1950 Americans devoted a fifth of their disposable incomes to food (and less than a fifth of that to eating out). Now food's share is a tenth (and almost half is out). We eat what pleases us, and so why should anyone be surprised that the average American consumes about 150 pounds of sugar and sweeteners annually, up 20 percent since 1980? The saving grace is that some of the food "is thrown away -- otherwise, all Americans would weigh 300 pounds," says Roland Sturm, an obesity expert at the Rand Corp.

It's misleading to ascribe all the resulting flab to American self-indulgence. China shows signs of an obesity problem, says Sturm. So do some other countries escaping poverty. "It's definitely one side effect of getting wealthier," he says. Now the idea that people spend less on basics like food is usually considered good, because it means they can spend more on other things. Their living standards improve. But there's no guarantee that they'll spend wisely on food or anything else.

Getting wealthier spawns other complaints. One is the "time squeeze" -- the sense that we're more harried than ever. We all know this is true; we're tugged by jobs, family, PTA and soccer. Actually, it's not true. People go to work later in life and retire earlier. Housework has declined. One survey found that in 1999 only 14 percent of wives did more than four hours of daily housework; the figure was 43 percent in 1977 and 87 percent in 1924. Even when jobs and housework are combined, total work hours for women and men have dropped.

Still, people gripe -- and griping rises with income, report economists Daniel Hamermesh of the University of Texas and Jungmin Lee of the University of Arkansas. They studied the United States, Germany, Australia, Canada and South Korea. People who were otherwise statistically similar complained more about the "time squeeze" as their incomes rose. Hamermesh and Lee's explanation: The more money people have, the more things they can do with their time; time becomes more valuable, and people increasingly resent that they can't create more of it.

Psychologist Barry Schwartz of Swarthmore College makes the broader point in his new book, "The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less." Our individual culture worships choice, but too much of it leads to choice congestion. Consumer Reports now "offers comparisons among 220 new car models, 250 breakfast cereals, 400 VCRs, 40 household soaps, 500 health insurance policies, 350 mutual funds, and even 35 showerheads," Schwartz writes. People feel overwhelmed by the time it takes to make the "best" choice -- and may later regret having made the wrong choice. Purchasing blunders may irritate, but bigger mistakes of choice (in careers, work vs. family) can be profoundly depressing, Schwartz argues.

As material wants are satisfied, psychological desires ascend. But these defy easy economic balm. "Most of what people really want in life -- love, friendship, respect, family, standing, fun . . . does not pass through the market," writes Gregg Easterbrook in his book "The Progress Paradox: How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse." Indeed, affluence may make matters worse. In 1957, 3 percent of Americans felt "lonely," according to a survey cited by Easterbrook; now 13 percent do. Although more people can afford to exist apart, it may not be good for them.

None of this discredits the value of economic growth, which, as Easterbrook shows, has made life better for countless millions and can continue to do so. These problems are less serious than those of poverty and unemployment. Nor are they always intractable. To check obesity, we can eat better and exercise more. To control ordinary anxiety, we can recognize that some choices just don't matter that much. Still, affluence's afflictions endure and remind us of an eternal truth: It matters, as individuals and as a society, not just how much wealth we have but how well we use it.