Choosing Connection Over Consumption
We live in a time where we are surrounded by many things, yet we rarely stop to ask where they came from or what they cost beyond the price tag. That tension came into focus when I spoke with Rolena Richardson, an artist, designer, and nature advocate. What stood out to me during our conversation wasn’t her critique of capitalism or her call for sustainability, it was how personal her ideas felt and how deeply they resonated with me. Her ideas were not abstract or “preachy”, but rather they were very human. The kind of conversation that slows you down to think, making it hard not to notice your surroundings or ignore the quiet stories behind the things you own and the choices you make every day.
Consumerism, according to Rolena, is not a moral failing on the part of individuals partaking in it but instead, is a way in which we are conditioned as a society to disconnect from our own nature, labor, each other, and ultimately from ourselves. Rolena holds a BS in Applied Economics and Management from Cornell University, as well as an MBA in Sustainability from Bard College. In addition to her academic background, she is an active volunteer with the Ganondagan White Corn Project, which works toward food sovereignty for Indigenous people in western New York. She is also a committee chair on the Bard MBA Alumni Board.On February 8, 2025, Rolena delivered a TEDxBard Talk entitled “Choosing Connection Over Consumption” at the Fisher Center at Bard College as part of the “Building Bridges” 2025 Conference.
She started her TEDxBard talk with a grounding truth we often ignore: in our capitalist society, we are encouraged to see possessions as symbols of happiness, success, and belonging. But the reality is far less fulfilling. Americans discard over 12 million tons of furniture every year, that is enough to fill 1,600 Olympic-sized swimming pools. About three-fifths of all clothing ends up in landfills or incinerators within a year of being made. That is the equivalent of a truckload of clothing being burned or dumped every second.
Pause for a second and try to picture that. Think about how many trucks worth of stuff we waste every second.. This is an enormous environmental and personal health risk. Yet here we are, constantly bombarded by ads on billboards, flyers, radios, and virtually on every social media platform multiple times an hour. This overwhelming amount of advertising is strategic and designed to keep this cycle and lead to the perception that we 'need' more stuff to be happy or “fulfilled” so the companies selling us that stuff make profits. In the end, it’s profit, not fulfillment that drives the system.
During our conversation, Rolena emphasized the idea that capitalism doesn’t just overproduce, it produces the wrong things. Instead of prioritizing healthcare, education, affordable housing, green spaces, or nutritious food, the system rewards whatever generates profit the fastest. Fast fashion, cheap gadgets, disposable décor and fossil-fuel-powered convenience. This gap between profit and human need extends beyond ethics; it produces measurable, real-world consequences.
Over the last 55 years, the global population has doubled, but global resource extraction has tripled. Between 2016 and 2021 alone, humanity consumed more than 75% of what it used during the entire 20th century. If that doesn’t stop you mid-scroll, I don’t know what will.
Rolena explained that capitalism is built on a scarcity mindset, the belief that there is never enough. So it manufactures artificial needs, convincing us that fulfillment is always one purchase away. That dopamine hit when you fill your cart? That’s not accidental, it is the design. Disposable income becomes the fuel for this cycle, money is framed as something meant to be spent, used up, and replaced, rather than questioned. I’m sure you’ve felt it too; that moment when you think, “Oh, I need this. It’ll make my life so much better.” And then two weeks later it’s forgotten, broken, or buried somewhere in your room.
To show what the alternative looks like, Rolena didn’t point to theory, she pointed to her home. A small cottage she renovated in the Finger Lakes, filled with stories not with trendy furniture. A cream-colored quilt draped over her favorite chair, knitted by her grandmother more than 20 years ago, wooden crates holding books and pine walls marked by time. Dried flowers from past gardens resting in vases. A shoe rack she designed herself, crafted from spalted maple. Every object, chosen slowly and connected to a person, a place, a memory and nature.
She said these objects sustain her, not just in moments of joy, but in moments of struggle too. They are reminders of care, labor and of love and in that way, her home becomes an act of resistance against mass-market capitalism.
This is what she means by slow and empathetic consumerism.
During our conversation Rolena spoke about a spatula she bought from an elderly woman in Mexico. By any standard, it’s ordinary — the kind of object most people would replace without thinking twice. But for her, it’s irreplaceable. It carries a memory, a person, a moment in time. If it breaks, she doesn’t throw it away. She fixes it, she takes care of it and in doing so, she honors the hands that made it, the story it carries, and the quiet way objects can tether us to what truly matters. Just this spatula captures the depth of her perspective.
Think about it, you probably have something like that too. A hand-stitched quilt, a pot you made from a pottery class, a friendship bracelet or a keepsake from somewhere meaningful. These objects resist disposability because they hold memory and connection.
Rolena believes that when we know who made something, when we understand the vulnerability involved in the creation, we treat it differently. As an artist, she described creating as an act of vulnerability: body, mind, and spirit coming together. What if we approached all our purchases with that awareness?
Richardson’s work with cooperative business models, including efforts to support Indigenous artisans and mission-driven enterprises points toward an economic vision where people are not just consumers but participants in shared economies. This is not just theory; it’s practice. By connecting consumers directly to makers, by valuing labor, tradition, and sustainability, the economy can become a network of relationships rather than a pipeline of extraction. I agree with this, and I’m sure you can see the appeal too: an economy that nourishes connection, human creativity, and respect for the Earth is one that feels alive rather than mechanical.
Disconnection with nature was emphasized as a very strong theme during our talk, especially in America. It is hard for most of us to have any idea how long it takes for plants to grow, where the raw materials come from and the fact that all the living things we have depend on ecosystems. Fast-food products typically cost less than food products produced on farms because our culture values speed of production over all else. As a result, those people who produce their products in the shortest time possible, and at the lowest price, are rewarded, regardless of the effect on the Earth.
Indigenous people generally have a better appreciation for their environment than do capitalists, which is evident by the example of Rolena's work with the Ganondagan White Corn Project. Capitalism tends to treat nature as outside of humanity, whereas most Indigenous cultures tend to treat humanity as part of nature; therefore, many Indigenous cultures encourage a worldview built on reciprocity, caretaking, and life balance. One worldview is about taking and extracting ever more resources, while the other is about providing for future regeneration.
This isn’t just philosophical, it's practical once put in practiceWithout intervention, global waste is projected to increase 70% by 2050, reaching 3.4 billion tons per year.
One concept Rolena emphasized, almost in passing but impossible to ignore once you hear it, is negative externalities. These are the hidden costs of production that never appear on a price tag: polluted land and water, exploited labor, broken communities, and long-term environmental harm. Our economic system operates on a deeply short-term mindset, prioritizing quick profits and shareholder value while pushing these consequences out of sight.
Instead of making these costs visible, production is often outsourced to marginalized and oppressed workers in other countries, where labor protections and environmental regulations are weaker or nonexistent. If goods were produced domestically under stronger safeguards, their true cost would be harder to ignore. By shifting production elsewhere, the system allows consumers in wealthier countries to access artificially cheap goods, while the people who produce them absorb the environmental damage, unsafe conditions, and poverty wages. The harm does not disappear; it is simply displaced.
Our conversation later pivoted to whether choosing connection over consumption requires a mindset shift or a lifestyle shift, her answer was straightforward: we need to change the way we think about value and success. Without changing the way we think, any lifestyle change will simply be momentary or an act of performance; for example, we can buy ethically, use less, and not buy into the fast fashion meme, but if we continue to have an underlying belief based on scarcity or accumulation, our choices will continue to be vulnerable. According to Rolena, because the mindset changes prior to the lifestyle change, when a person understands they are connected to the land, to the workers that make the items, and to other people, their habits will naturally adapt. Consumption will decrease, not due to rules or feelings of guilt; but when we reorder our priorities. What used to seem like a necessity will become an excess and the connection to the land and to others will become a motivation for daily consumption decisions rather than convenience. I share this belief with Rolena and I believe you do as well, that the first step toward achieving meaningful change is to change our thoughts.
Rolena ended her TEDxBard talk asking us to imagine a future where objects aren’t discarded without thought, where every item carries a story, and where value is measured not by profit, but by care. This isn’t a utopia, it’s a practice built one conscious choice at a time. Slow and empathetic consumerism asks us to value relationships over profit, stewardship over ownership, and connection over consumption. Each object we choose can either connect us or consume us. The question is simple: which will you choose?
Post Date: 02-24-2026