The rise of the hollow brands – selling everything, owning next to nothing – happened over decades when the key institutions that used to provide individuals with a sense of community and shared identity were in sharp decline: tightly knit neighborhoods where people looked out for one another; large workplaces that held out the promise of a job for life; space and time for ordinary people to make their own art, not just consume it; organized religion; political movements and trade unions that were grounded in face-to-face relationships; public-interest media that strove to knit nations together in a common conversation.

All these institutions and traditions were and are imperfect, often deeply so. They left many people out, and very often enforced an unhealthy conformity. But they did offer something we humans need for our well-being, and for which we never cease to long: community, connection, a sense of mission larger than our immediate atomized desires. These two trends- the decline of communal institutions and the expansion of corporate brands in our culture-have had an inverse, seesaw-like relationship to one another over the decades: as the influence of those institutions that provided us with that essential sense of belonging went down, the power of commercial brands went up.

I’ve always taken solace from this dynamic. It means that, while our branded world can exploit the unmet need to be part of something larger than ourselves, it can’t fill it in any sustained way: you make a purchase to be part of a tribe, a big idea, a revolution, and it feels good for a moment, but the satisfaction wears off almost before you’ve thrown out the packaging for that new pair of sneakers, that latest model iPhone, or whatever the surrogate is. Then you have to find a way to fill the void again. It’s the perfect formula for endless consumption and perpetual self-commodification through social media, and it’s a disaster for the planet, which cannot sustain these levels of consumption.

But it’s always worth remembering: at the heart of this cycle is that very powerful force- the human longing for community and connection, which simply refuses to die.

And that means there is still hope: if we rebuild our communities and begin to derive more meaning and a sense of the good life from them, many of us are going to be less susceptible to the siren song of mindless consumerism (and while we’re at it, we might even spend less time producing and editing our personal brands on social media).

Naomi Klein (2017) No Is Not Enough. Penguin Books

[The video] made me reflect on how we perceive time and how we choose to spend it. It’s so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of life and feel like we need to constantly be on the go, but maybe the opposite is true. Perhaps, since our time is limited, we should slow down and simplify.

The idea of stripping away unnecessary [expenditure] of time and [preserving] what we truly want and need is a powerful concept. It’s important to determine what we believe is a valuable use of our time.

Comment on a YouTube video

Life is bigger than you realize. Something about the way you’ve structured your days doesn’t honor the limitless potential and the countless possibilities that are stretched out before you. Something about your anxiety has caused you to build things that feel safe and restrictive. Something about your fears has led you to hide inside predictable shapes, to duck into dark corners, to retreat from open-ended questions.

I found this deep down in the comments section of somewhere, a long time ago.