How much is too much?
That’s a loaded question. One that varies by where you come from and who you are.
In collective cultures, what is enough to provide for your immediate circle is the upper limit. That means what’s enough to keep your family clothed, housed and fed. The bare necessities.
In individualistic cultures, what’s enough to live the good life is often the upper limit. That means enjoying more than just the requisite. It means taking advantage of fine cuisine, art or entertainment.
And in America? Well, there is no upper limit.
Our society is one built on excess. On taking all we can, and then taking some more.
It’s part of our heritage. Our westward expansion in the 1800s was dubbed Manifest Destiny. That wording transformed the forceful relocation of native tribes and the wars over Mexico’s northern territories from acts of savagery to actions ordained by God.
That spirit has stuck with us to the present day. Drive around Malibu in California or cruise around Star Island in Miami and you’ll see the temples we’ve built to celebrate excess. Mansions owned by the uber-rich — many of whom maintain lavish homes in other locations.
If you were to look in the master closets or garages of these mansions, you’d probably find extravagant clothes that are never worn and sports cars that are rarely driven.
If a utilitarian were to look at this scene, they’d consider it a waste of resources. But that’s precisely the point.
Excess is part of our DNA. It tells the story of who we are better than anything else.
Excess is what popularized the all-you-can-eat buffet and the 30 page menu at The Cheesecake Factory. Excess is what spawned the endless array of TV channels and smartphone apps. Excess is what built the city of Las Vegas into the shrine of decadence it is today.
Excess has appeal. Visitors from other societies find themselves drawn to it, by pure novelty, if nothing else. And emerging cities around the world have even emulated it, through the creation of elaborate skylines and other lavish features.
But excess has severe risks as well.
It’s unhealthy, it’s self-serving, and it’s unbecoming.
If we seek to be treated with dignity and build a legacy filled with reverence, our tendency toward excess is the biggest obstacle to realizing our dreams.
For excess makes us seem primal. Even animalistic.
How so? Consider a tangible example — alcohol consumption.
Imbibing alcoholic beverages has been a time honored tradition throughout human history. Tales of drinking stretch as far back as the Bible. And they’re featured prominently in ancient Greek mythology.
Even in the disjointed world that preceded transcontinental trade routes, alcohol consumption was common in several corners of the globe.
However, the way cultures approached the activity varied. And those variances have persisted into the modern era.
Collective cultures predominantly drink as a form of status. The context of the occasion tends to matter most — particularly in Asia, where familial social customs are critical in maintaining honor and identity. The fact that the beverage consumed at these gatherings happens to be alcoholic is immaterial.
Individualistic cultures predominantly drink for artisanal reasons. Think of the French pairing the right wine with their dinner, or the British enjoying a pint at the pub. Beverages are meant to be savored, even cherished. The attributes of the beverage chosen — taste, smell and fullness — matter as much as the act of drinking it.
And then, there’s America. Where pure volume consumed is the only measure that matters.
Our culture has turned drinking into an ugly form of competition. One replete with a tradition of overbearing peer pressure and a total lack of accountability.
Go to any lake or river and you’ll find people downing drinks by the dozen. Go to the club and you’ll find people ordering bottle service. Go to a wedding or holiday party and you’ll find people cycling back to the open bar, over and over.
Somewhere along the line, we’ve been taught to drink, drink and drink some more. To spend our free time hitting the bottle until we can’t taste what we’re putting into our bodies anymore. To transform our social interactions into inebriated soirees that we won’t remember the next day.
Those critical of this behavior have placed the blame in many corners. But I can find only one such source that best explains it — our culture of excess.
In a society that bends toward decadence, Go big or go home is a rallying cry. Not taking it to the max is considered a sin.
So, we don’t savor cold boozy beverages on a hot day. We force them down our throats it the way Kobayashi or Joey Chestnut inhale hot dogs. And then we down 5 more.
We keep at it until our bodies give in. Even if the end result is a raging headache and a list of regrets, it’s still better than the scorn we’d get for only sticking to a drink or two.
Both collective and individualistic cultures look at this behavior with horror. Getting drunk can be akin to losing face. And downing drinks three at a time is the antithesis of the artisanal credo.
Is it any wonder why American culture is frequently lampooned outside its borders? While other cultures are fascinated by the idea of excess, they’re also disgusted by our implementation of it.
Just as critically, our culture of excess is destroying us from the inside out. The prevalence of binge drinking has caused a trail of collateral damage that has destroyed lives. Our oversized food portions have helped lead to several health crises, from obesity to heart disease. And our desire for more, more, more has helped us get addicted to everything from caffeine to opioids.
By any measure, things are moving in the wrong direction. But there’s an easy way to reverse this trend: Embrace moderation.
This doesn’t mean giving up what we enjoy. It just means giving up on enjoying it endlessly.
It means taking a stand. No more will we clamor for more than we need. No longer will we succumb to the social and marketing pressures telling us that enough is never enough.
When we have enough to be comfortable, we should be comfortable enough to say no to temptation. To use our powers to help others rather than denigrate ourselves through needless decadence.
Some may call this un-American. And they might be right. After all, they have two centuries of history to point to as evidence.
But look around. Excess has caused more harm than good. We — the society that has it all— find ourselves more broken than ever these days.
Let’s put ourselves back together again. Let’s chart a new course.
One that starts with three words.
No. That’s enough.
Are you up for the challenge?