Evolutionary explanation for consumer spending

Sex, Evolution, and Consumer Behavior

By Geoffrey Miller

Viking, 384 pages, $34

"WHY would the world's most intelligent primate buy a Hummer H1 Alpha sport-utility vehicle for $139,771?"

American evolutionary psychologist Geoffrey Miller poses this question in the opening pages of his latest book, an engaging, straightforward and sometimes bold look at consumer behaviour.

This mix of pop-science and political manifesto attempts to provide an evolutionary explanation for consumer purchases.

Miller's academic career has included the study of some varied and intriguing phenomena, ranging from the tip earnings of female lap-dancers (which doubles during ovulation) to the most highly coveted weapons in the game World of Warcraft.

His previous book, The Mating Mind, argues that the human propensity for art and creativity grew out of the evolutionary pressure to impress potential mates with mental acuity.

This time out, drawing on evidence from both evolutionary psychology and behavioural economics, Miller concludes that the majority of consumer purchases boil down to little more than an attempt to show off our admirable personal qualities to others.

For instance, the Smart Car can signal intelligence, a BMW can signal status and wealth, and a cruiser bike can signal a balance between youthful trendiness and ecological awareness.

Miller, who teaches at the University of New Mexico, suggests that the reason for this type of "trait-display" is deeply rooted in our evolutionary history and is the human equivalent of peacock's feathers.

Like the peacock's, our need for trait-display is genetically determined and is therefore here to stay. However, unlike the peacock, we are able to choose how we signal our traits, and contemporary culture dictates that we do this through conspicuous consumption.

Miller presents all sorts of exciting research interwoven with fun pop-culture references and simple tables to outline and support his arguments.

He cites one study that found that males primed with thoughts of meeting attractive women significantly increased the conspicuousness of their consumption.

He then demonstrates how marketers take advantage of this human propensity by implicitly assuring us that the product they're selling will make people like or respect us.

But the truth is we don't care nearly as much about other people's product displays as they might think we do.

Can you even remember what your spouse wore yesterday (or what brand the clothing was)? Do you know what brand of car all of your friends drive?

Given this reality, Miller spends several chapters suggesting a number of alternate strategies for trait-display that are more effective, satisfying and less costly to the environment.

He also points out that we are actually very good at judging other people's personal qualities in just a few minutes of conversation.

The bottom line here is that you can buy a Smart Car to show off your intelligence or get a Botox injection to appear youthful, but you can't hide your poor grammar or sub-par IQ for very long in conversation.

Some of Miller's larger suggestions for social change (e.g., a consumption tax rather than income tax) are a bit premature given that the research on which the book is based doesn't yet have the solid grounding of a field that's been around for a substantial amount of time.

However, Spent encourages readers to fearlessly examine their spending habits, which is sure to give them pause the next time they reach for an iPod leather flip case for $49.95.

Jen Robinson, an MA candidate in psychology at the University of Manitoba, rides a cruiser bike.

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition June 14, 2009 D5