The second way that culture teaches us what’s “natural” is by defining what’s nature and what’s not. This is never clear or precise or consistent. Science and religion, for example, define “nature” differently, but generally speaking, in college culture the natural world is the nonhuman world. We speak of people and nature as if they existed in separate spheres, and we plan on “getting back to nature” over the summer, forgetting that we are nature in nature, always. This confusion has real consequences because our common cultural understandings don’t remind us of our natural lives and impacts. Except in science or environmental studies classes, college students don’t customarily think of nature or the environment. And that fact—that omission—is educationally important because, as one of my mentors wisely says, we are taught very well by what we are not taught.
The concept of the culture of nature, then, helps us to see the complexity of our relationships with the natural world, and our complicity with commonsense patterns of thought and behavior that don’t make sense anymore. It helps us to pay attention to the nature of our lives, and the nature that results from our lives. It also helps us pay attention to the culture of our lives. And because culture is something we create collectively, it offers us real opportunities for substantial change. If the current culture of nature doesn’t make sense, we can help to create a better one, and a better world.
2) Consumption, Materials, and Materialism
To parents and professors, students are people engaged in academic learning. To America’s commercial interests, however, students are materialistic consumers and a major market niche. In fact, whole books have been written on taking advantage of this segment of the population. David A. Morrison’s Marketing to the Campus Crowd, for example, notes that college students offer corporate America opportunities for “branding, selling, sub-segmenting, and new product strategies,” and that, conveniently, college students can be less price-sensitive than other consumers, especially when subsidized by what Morrison calls the “Bank of Mom and Dad.” College students are a profitable market, says Morrison, because of the sheer volume of their discretionary spending, along with their high concentration, rapid turnover, avid willingness to experiment, propensity for innovation and early adoption of technology, ever-changing brand loyalties, strong influence on other key consumer segments (and the mainstream marketplace as a whole), and receptivity to the right advertising, sampling, and promotions (in contrast to the average consumer). “The basic mantra behind college marketing,” Morrison claims, “is to generate short-term financial gains to the bottom line and simultaneously establish long-term brand loyalties.” And, as marketing consultant Peter Zollo says of younger students, “School delivers more teens per square foot than anyplace else!”1
If we only consumed discrete objects disconnected from the rest of the world, this might not be a problem, but in buying stuff, we buy into a system of stuff called materialism. Materialism is the way that Americans manage resource flows, both intentionally and unintentionally. When a student buys a computer, she thinks about its advantages for her connectedness, including (sometimes) her connection to academic resources. But while she’s thinking about Internet access and word processing, she’s actually world processing: setting off a chain of demand and supply that has far-reaching environmental consequences. She can ignore the environmental impacts of the purchase because the common sense of consumption lets her focus on her material desires instead of the material consequences of her decisions.
Locating college culture within consumer culture, then, helps us to see how American culture routinely expects us to consume stuff that consumes the world. It helps us to see how advertising pressures and peer pressures combine to make our consumption both “normal” and normative, despite its extensive environmental impacts. At the same time, however, our understanding of our consumption helps us to take control of it, so that we can change the culture of consumption to increase both our happiness and our harmonies with the natural world.
3) The Moral Ecology of Everyday Life
College culture and consumer culture aren’t just sociological issues. They’re ethical issues, which we can explore by examining the moral ecology of everyday life. In Habits of the Heart, Robert Bellah defines moral ecology as “the web of moral understandings and commitments that tie people together in community.” In this book, moral ecology also includes the web of social values that ties people and the rest of nature together. To untangle this web, though, we first must understand the difference between expressed and operative values. Put simply, expressed values are the ones we say and operative values are the ones we do. Sadly, too often the operative values of our lives aren’t the same as our expressed values. We say we believe in conservation and efficiency, freedom and fairness, equity and justice. But what we do is who we are, and when we look honestly at our lives, we basically buy into different values. In practice, our operative values include cheapness and novelty, fun and fashion, comfort and convenience, “cool” and conformity. When push comes to shove, we’d often rather look good than be good. We’d rather have “low, low prices” than high environmental standards. So “the good life” of American culture isn’t nearly as good as it needs to be for people or the planet.
By uncovering our implicit morality, we’re not only exploring the habits of our hearts, but also the more mundane habits of our days. Studies show that about 45 percent of daily behavior is habitual, which means that we don’t really choose almost half of what we do. It’s also true that many of our habits are things we don’t do. Thoughtlessness is a habit, for instance, as are silence and apathy and inactivity.
Environmental Values of College Culture (and American Culture)
| Individualism | Fun | Resourcism |
| Instrumentalism | Sociability/Friendliness | Remote Control |
| Credentialism | Sex-ability | Ignorance |
| Comfort | Materialism | Passivism |
| Convenience | Cheapness | Sitizenship |
| Cool | Fossil Foolishness | Presentism |
| Conformity | Indoor-ance | Anthropocentrism |
This is a book of ordinary ethics. It focuses on the stuff that everybody does every day, exploring the significance of the seemingly insignificant. It investigates the culture of college by probing the underlying ideas and assumptions of student life, trying to figure out why people act the way they do and why it matters to the global community.