The Child Consumer
David Elkind
This review of Juliet
Schor's Born to Buy
originally appeared in the Boston Globe October 24,
2004.
The child is a gift of
nature, but how the child is perceived is always a social
construction. During the Puritan era, the child was viewed as
born with original sin, and in need of salvation. The
Darwinian revolution ushered in the humanitarian perception of
the child as a young organism. Like the young of other
species, the child was regarded as innately innocent,
playful, and in need of protection. With the social
revolutions of the sixties, the child came to be seen as
competent, ready and able to deal with all of life’s
vicissitudes. These included; divorce, extended day care, two
parents working, media bombardment, and more.
Over
the past several decades, at least in the purviews of those
who merchandise to young, a new perception of the child has
been promoted. This is the idea of the child as consumer.
Viewing the child in this way reflects a tectonic value shift.
The perceptions--misguided or not—of the child as sinful, or
as innocent, or as competent arose from a genuine concern for
the health and welfare of the child. In contrast, the child as
consumer does not stem from any concern for the well
being of the young. Rather, the perception of the child as
consumer is driven by the profit motives of those who
merchandise to children
Juliet
B. Schor’s book, Born to Buy, echoes many of these
alarms. She is particularly powerful in showing how deeply and
broadly the commercialization of childhood has penetrated our
society. Some of this invasion, such as trans toying,
we now take for granted. Toothbrushes, watches, lunch pails,
and shampoos can carry logos or replicas of popular, media
related, character toys such as Shrek or Pokemon.
More insidious is the commercial penetration of once healthy
youth programs such as the Girl Scouts
Beginning in 1995 the girl scouts began offering the
“fashionable adventure” experience with the Limited Too, the
country’s largest girl oriented retail chain. Instead of
camping out or learning about nature, the girls sign up for an
overnight that begins at the mall. They’re promised an
experience emphasizing, ‘smart shopping tips, personal money
management, and most of all how to maximize your funds to have
it all.’ The girls try on clothes and return home with a
discount coupon.”
Equally, if not more troubling, is the encroachment of
advertising into the schools. Schor reviews the research on
the effects of having Channel 1 in the classrooms and the
potent effect it has upon student attitudes. She also details
how schools are selling “pouring rights,” or exclusive access
to their schools, to soft drink companies like Pepsi. Schools
are also selling ad space in school buildings, classrooms, and
buses. Free promotional give-aways, like weekly planners,
loaded with ads are commonplace. As school funding dries up,
administrators look to these venues as ways to make up the
shortfall.
Perhaps the most disturbing facet of this intrusion of
consumerism into the schools is its invasion of the
curriculum. This has come about via SEM’s, sponsored
educational materials. Schor documents how major food
corporations sponsor nutrition curricula that support their
products in misleading ways. The Kellogg nutritional curricula
suggests that fat, but not sugar and salt, are the things to
worry about in choosing breakfast food. Highly regarded
Scholastic Magazine, claimed to be in 92 percent of US
Classrooms, has sold out to the merchandisers. Schor writes
that the magazine has been turned into an advertising vehicle.
It now publishes special issues that are sponsored by
individual companies with many pages of company ads.
While
some of this material is covered in the other books, what
makes this book special is the chapter in which Schor presents
her own research study. Her subjects were 300 fifth and sixth
graders living in or around the Boston area. Each student took
a 157 item survey which assessed not only the children’s
involvement in consumer culture but also measures of physical,
and mental, well being. Her main conclusion is deeply
disturbing. She writes, “High consumer involvement is a
significant cause of depression, anxiety, low self esteem, and
psychosomatic complaints.”
In her
last chapter, Schor takes a realistic view of the task of
decommercializing childhood. She recognizes that getting the
merchandisers to change their ways, will be far from easy.
And, she acknowledges that parents cannot do it all by
themselves. At the same time she believes parents can do
something. Parents who restrict their children’s television
viewing are a case in point. Such parents are less likely,
than those who have not, to have youngsters resistant to high
consumer involvement.
This
is an extraordinarily well researched book providing abundant,
evidence for commercialization of childhood in our society.
Its greatest strength may also be its greatest weakness.
Although Schor appears to be writing to a popular audience,
her language is often academic as if she is trying to speak to
her colleagues as well as to parents. This is particularly
true in the last chapter in which she attempts to explain the
complex statistical procedures used in her analyses. The many
tables of data are also unexpected in a book of this kind.
Nonetheless,
I hope this book receives the wide recognition and readership
it deserves. It offers the first hard research data on the
negative effects of turning children into consumers. The child
as consumer is but another example of the larger conflict
within our society between human (in this case child health
and welfare) and economic values. The outcome of this conflict
is not insignificant. It could well determine the future of
our society.
David Elkind,
PhD, is a professor of child development at Tufts
University and author of "The Hurried Child" and other books.