Kate Holmquist examines the growing need to fill an emotional emptiness with consumer goods
Living on a financial tightrope has become a way of life for the middle class, whose aspirations to live, eat, dress, holiday and drive like the elite can become real with the flash of a credit card or a call to the bank manager.
When times are good and interest rates low, living on borrowed money seems almost sensible. There's always a promotion, a payrise, a shares cheque, rental income or an inheritance around the corner to pay off the balance on a credit card or three.
For stressed-out people with poor self-esteem or who are working so hard that they have no time to just "be" rather than "do", shopping can feel like self-love or a stress safety valve or a means of looking like the person we want to be, even if we know we'll never be it.
Esteem buying takes place in prestigious stores and expresses itself in BMWs and Mercedes. But only the mega-rich can buy a new €2,000 handbag every season or go golfing with the guys in Spain without living on credit. And with the average person's debt now predicted to be heading for 160 per cent of their income, it's not unusual to be "maxed out".
A word of warning, though: living on credit is a way of living in the future, which isn't necessarily going to be the upward curve that Celtic Tiger high achievers have grown to expect. When disposable income is small after all the debts are paid, it only takes one kick to knock people off the tightrope.
"Many middle class people are living in a state of financial and emotional brinkmanship. They've got two incomes, a big mortgage and childcare fees that are crucifying. Their financial problems are the first thing they think of in the morning and the last thing when they go to bed at night," says John Monaghan, voluntary vice-president of the Society of St Vincent de Paul (SVP).
While they are a relatively small portion of SVP clients, middle class earners in financial trouble do regularly seek help from the society, which works with Mabs (local money advice bureaux) and credit unions to help people regain their balance.
Unexpected job loss, illness, bereavement or a marriage break-up can bring once-affluent people to their knees, Monaghan says. The SVP is bracing itself for the inevitable economic downturn and expecting to see a 1980s scenario brought on by closing manufacturing industries and the departure of US companies. "We're expecting it and we're prepared, but we are scared witless of what is going to happen when mortgage interest rates rise, along with increasing gas and electricity bills, the crippling cost of childcare costs and stealth taxes," says Monaghan.
Middle class clients are embarrassed, ashamed and even disbelieving at being forced to seek help from a charity that they may well have contributed to in the past. They may owe anywhere from €15,000 to €80,000, having lived lavish lifestyles with several credit cards, two cars and a couple of holidays every year.
"Often, they've spent money on stupid things like wall-to-wall sound systems when times were good. They may even have property abroad," Monaghan says.
By the time they call the SVP, the crisis has usually reached the stage where they've been using one credit card to pay off another, they've been unable to make car payments and their mortgage is in arrears.
"While their neighbours are talking about whether they can afford to take the kids to Lapland, these people are afraid they can't afford the trip to Blanchardstown," says Monaghan.
"In a psychological sense, the impact is horrendous. People neglect their health because they can't pay the GP and they can't afford to eat well. They make sure the kids are looked after, but the kids probably suffer worst, especially at Christmas, having to explain to the other kids on the estate why they haven't got the same things that everyone else has.
"The house may look prosperous from the outside, with nice curtains in the windows, but when you go in the door, you see that the mother is short with the kids because she's so stressed having to cope, her face grey with worry and when she begins to tell you how she's been struggling, you see her tears."
Such torment is no more than a cautionary tale for the majority of middle class consumers, but that doesn't make them immune from another kind of psychological harm. GPs are seeing an epidemic of what the Americans call affluenza, a state of chronic stress brought on by having to work longer and harder to pay for stuff, without questioning the values beneath it.
Dr Brian Meade, a GP and spokesman for the Irish College of General Practitioners, has a practice in Stillorgan, Co Dublin. He says: "People here don't have financial problems, or if they do they're not telling us. People who had a Fiesta or a Corsa five years ago have 05 BMWs in their driveways. We never have patients coming in unable to pay or complaining of the cost of healthcare. When we refer them to private consultants, payment is just not an issue."
But time-poverty and overwork are rife, he says, resulting in stress-related illnesses such as irritable bowel syndrome and chronic fatigue. Meade says: "When you hear people talking about how hard they work, often in a stressful job, then having to be a housewife as well, you can see why they're tired.
"Of course they're tired. They're doing too much. But people just won't consider not going for promotion or working fewer hours for less money. We refer many people for psychological counselling so that they can try to get some work/life balance."
There are other signs that living beyond your means is reaching crisis point. According to Debtors Anonymous, you know that you're in trouble when you justify your debts by telling yourself that you are superior to other people and that when you get your "break" you'll be out of debt overnight.
Other signs include losing sleep due to worry, being unable to concentrate on work, unhappiness at home and getting drunk to escape the pressure. Borrowing to get out of trouble gives you an inordinate feeling of relief. Debtors Anonymous uses the AA 12-step model, the first step being: "We admitted we were powerless over debt and that our lives had become unmanageable."
The triggers that push vulnerable people into unmanageable debt are all around us. Psychological research has found that in an increasingly fragmented community, shopping gives us a sense of belonging and may be the only way we have of setting ourselves apart.
Spending, both on oneself and others, compensates for the lack of time we spend enjoying life, on our own or with friends and family.When it goes too far, the effects can be catastrophic, as Tara Palmer Tompkinson discovered when she found herself €50,000 sterling in debt for new clothes.
Ninety per cent of chronic overspenders are women and about 10 per cent of women and men are full-fledged shopping addicts. Women tend to overspend whimsically on clothing, the chief justifications being: "I deserve this because I work so hard" and "beautiful clothes will make me feel beautiful".
Once the brief hit of shopping euphoria has worn off, the hangover of debt is relieved only by another splurge.
Male shopping addicts tend to spend crazy money on "high brow" collections or hobbies that reflect their "refinement", such as collections of CDs, wines or boy toys, and they may borrow heavily to do so. Such fiscal betrayal can be more destabilising to a marriage than an affair, say marriage counsellors.
Erich Fromm, the philosopher, wrote in the 1970s that there were two modes of existence: "the having mode and the being mode". At this stage of social development, it's fair to say that Ireland is in the having mode, as new shopping malls become our town centres and shopping our Sunday ritual.
How to get yourself off the credit treadmill? One suggestion is to leave the cards at home and say the following mantra every time you are near a retail opportunity: "I am whole, I am complete, material goods won't change me." Or you could just replace the shopping trip with a walk in the fresh air.
