After terrorists attacked New York and Washington, President George Bush told Americans to stay calm and panic, but, most of all, to keep spending money. He suggested that taking out another mortgage on your house (how many does that make, now? Are you even keeping track any more?) would be considered a patriotic act.
Mayor Mel Lastman had a similar reaction to the first outbreak of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome in Toronto: the best chance of citizens’ defeating the deadly virus was to go downtown and spend like there’s no tomorrow. Who knows? For some of them, it might be appropriate. (The Mayor is keeping a low profile during the second outbreak – maybe the prices in the shops on Queen Street are keeping him away. Or, maybe the beggars on the sidewalks – Mel is inscrutable that way.)
Critics have suggested that this response to a crisis is an indication of the decline of political leadership that has taken place in the last two or three decades, that politicians whose only interest is in the economy tend to respond inappropriately to non-economic crises. This is unfair. If we look at the historical record, we find that, in fact, world leaders have always adopted this approach.
For example, when Genghis (the original Khan – sorry, Star Trek fans) exhorted his soldiers to loot and pillage foreign lands, it was always for the express purpose of raising enough cash to refurnish their yurts. It should come as no surprise that, after every raid, sales at Mongolian Home Hardwares skyrocketed.
When Caligula was busy turning Roman political institutions into brothels, how did the Senate respond? “Everything is under control and going exactly as planned,” the Senate proclaimed. “Buy more togas and olives.”
During the American civil war, leaders of both the north and the south pled with their citizens to outspend the other side. You might have thought the south would have an advantage (their ability to buy and sell – people – being at the centre of the dispute, after all), but New York was already becoming the home of the country’s major fashion and advertising industries.
Looked at in this way, which side would spend more money to win should never have been in doubt.
Reaction to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand varied thoughout Europe. In Austria-Hungary, citizens were urged to buy more bratwurst and Bock. In Germany, citizens were urged to buy more houses and lager. In France, citizens were urged to buy more brie and red wine (not, necessarily, it should be noted, to be consumed at the same time – we are talking about the French, after all). Even in the United States, which initially viewed the developing war as a European affair, citizens were urged to buy more Model Ts and cigarettes.
You might have thought that the crash of the airship Hindenburg would alert people to the dangers of air travel, or at least make them look up more. However, secretaries of state throughout the developed nations of the world used the disaster as an opportunity to hector their populations about buying more baked beans and rolltop desks.
The Battle of Britain was a dark time for that sceptered isle, but not so dark that it couldn’t be turned into a sceptered “I’ll…” While every schoolchild is familiar with Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s speech about “blood, tears, toil and sweat” (your recollection may vary), less well known was his speech about buying “blood pudding, tar, boiled chickens and sweets.” This is, perhaps, owing to the fact that history teachers are, by nature, a dull lot, and are attracted to the more pleasure-denying aspects of their subjects. (You would be less inclined to argue with this assessment if you had been a student of Mister Winterbottom.)
Closer to home, in the midst of the FLQ crisis that threatened to tear Canada apart, a reporter asked Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau if he would dare Canadians to spend their way to unity. His now famous response – “Just watch me!” – was actually a prelude to a less quoted admonition to all Canadians, based on an earlier unity crisis, to “Buy from Quebec if necessary, but don’t necessarily buy from Quebec.”
Some critics have suggested that recreating the complex role of a citizen in a democracy as another form of simple consumerism diminishes us all. However, in these dire and complicated times, anything that reduces the burden of difficult choices that weighs so so heavily on individuals has to be considered a boon, not a problem.
Don’t you buy that?