The Medicine Cabinet Economy: Is More Always Better?
My medicine cabinet contains almost no medicine. What it does contain is a small fortune in lotions, potions, promises, and questionable purchasing decisions.
I've spent the past several days cleaning it out, reorganizing, and confronting the evidence of Consumer Diana's adventures in the marketplace which have been greatly influenced by clever marketing.
Some products serve a genuine purpose. Others were gifts, impulse purchases, bargains, or promises of a better version of myself. And some are simply excess.
But one bottle stands out: my Neutrogena eye-makeup remover. I've used it for decades. It's reasonably priced, it works, and I've never felt the need to replace it with something fancier.
Curiosity led me to investigate Neutrogena's history. The business began in 1930, was acquired by Johnson & Johnson in 1994, became part of Kenvue in 2023, and—remarkably—Kimberly-Clark announced the completion of its acquisition of Kenvue today.
Nearly a century of business evolution, corporate transactions, and changing ownership. Meanwhile, Consumer Diana keeps buying the same dependable eye-makeup remover.
Which got me thinking about our larger economy.
We celebrate GDP growth as evidence of economic strength. But GDP measures production, not necessarily wisdom, well-being, or whether the things being produced are truly needed.
Just because we can produce something doesn't necessarily mean we should.
We're also carrying an enormous national debt, and economic growth is frequently presented as part of the solution. But what exactly is driving that growth?
Consumer spending? Government spending? Business investment? Inventory accumulation? AI infrastructure?
And how much of that activity is creating lasting value versus generating additional costs, obligations, and unintended consequences?
As I walk through stores like TJ Maxx and HomeGoods, I see shelves overflowing with merchandise. Meanwhile, people I talk with are becoming more selective. They're distinguishing wants from needs, buying fewer things of better quality, and finding ways to use what they already own.
I'm doing the same.
And another question emerged: Could our collective appetite for more contribute to the very inflation and rising costs we complain about?
Sometimes, yes. Demand can put upward pressure on prices, although inflation has many causes, including supply constraints, energy costs, tariffs, and monetary conditions.
I'm not suggesting we stop spending or deliberately push the economy into recession. That would create real hardship.
But perhaps we need to reconsider what meaningful economic progress looks like.
What if we slowed down long enough to evaluate what we've already accumulated? Reorganized what isn't working? Repaired and repurposed what still has value? Redirected resources toward genuine needs? And became more discerning about what we produce, purchase, and finance?
Not everything needs to grow indefinitely. Not every problem requires another product, program, policy, or technological intervention.
And not everything that generates economic activity creates a corresponding improvement in human well-being.
My medicine cabinet is still full. I'm not declaring war on beautiful things, pleasure, or Consumer Diana. I'm simply becoming more conscious of what I bring into my life and why.
Perhaps that's where practicing the Middle Way begins.
Before asking how much more we can produce, consume, or grow, shouldn't we ask what we're actually trying to accomplish?
Sometimes the most important economic questions begin by opening our own cabinets.
Dancing with Dragons — Breaking spells, not casting them.