3.1 Fitting In and Standing Out

The heading signifies two key human drivers and social motivations. Any person wishes to be seen as someone special, a unique person and personality, while at the same time appearing normal, as everyone else, and particularly sharing attributes with certain “reference groups”. Two closely related subthemes will be explored in this section. The first is the paradox of fitting in and appearing unique. The second is the drive to stand out (status and distinction).

In each of these, social comparison is a key mechanism. Leon Festinger’s social comparison theory (1954) explains how individuals evaluate themselves by comparing opinions and abilities with those of others, gravitating toward groups that reflect their own traits. To belong, people often consume what their social group deems appropriate and desirable. Social visibility, that is, the potential for people to be noticed by others in an action with social meaning (O’Keefe et al. 2026), is a micro-contextual circumstance that accentuates this tendency to compare.

People use social comparison to evaluate their views, values, status, appearance, and achievement. Social comparison and visibility fuel consumerism. Fear of social exclusion drives lots of social activity. Comparisons are involved in the pursuit of both social belonging and distinction. In a stratified society marked by class, gender, age, ethnicity, occupation, and other divisions, consumption becomes a means of navigating social hierarchies and expressing identity. This dynamic not only reinforces group norms and status markers but also contributes to ecologically harmful mass consumption. The next sections will look more closely at the dynamics, first through the concept of identity.

3.2 Rising Inequalities Add Fuel to Symbolic Drivers of Consumerism through the Mechanisms of Social Comparison and Relative Poverty

There is a need to deepen the analysis of the critical role of social comparison in driving consumerism by considering (escalating) inequalities in a stratified society. Alongside the above-reviewed classical concepts, “relative poverty”, defined as the gap between cultural aspirations and available means (Merton, 1938), offers additional insight. When people perceive themselves as worse off than others, especially in societies with common goals and values, feelings of injustice and envy emerge.

In recent decades, income gaps have widened in welfare societies, with the rich growing richer while lower-income groups stagnate (Sayer, 2015). This rising inequality has profound social and psychological effects, shaping consumption patterns across all classes. The (super)rich not only contribute to ecological harm through excessive consumption but also influence societal norms (Kenner, 2019; Gössling & Humpe, 2020). Their lifestyles raise reference points, inflame desires, and spread consumerist ideals. Through social media and public visibility, they model extravagant consumption and spur a culture of hyper-consumerism and wastefulness (Urry, 2010; Wiedmann et al., 2020). Wilkinson and Pickett (2010 & 2019) show that rising inequalities in wealthy societies spur a sense of relative poverty, which in turn drives consumerism. They found substantial evidence across OECD countries confirming the idea of relative poverty: what matters for people in rich countries is not their actual income level or living standard, but, significantly more, how they compare with others in the same society. People observe what others (seem to) have and consider themselves worse off than the comparison groups. Rising inequality accordingly heightens status anxiety and reinforces materialistic goals (the pursuit of affluence and possessions; see Fitzmaurice & Comegys, 2006) as a strategy for compensation, self-promotion, and identity construction. Several studies across the world and in different social contexts confirm this connection between relative poverty and consumerism focused on symbolically laden possessions (Schor, 1998; Piacentini & Mailer, 2004; Christen & Morgan, 2005; Keller, 2005; Guillen-Royo, 2008; Isaksen & Roper, 2008; Zhou & Wong, 2008; Chipp et al., 2011; Dubois et al., 2011; Kim et al., 2017, Jorgenson et al., 2019; see Boström, 2023, for an extended discussion).

3.3 Consumerism and Everyday Rituals

The above discussion about fitting in and standing out — within a stratified society — may not capture all the important dynamics of social belonging and symbolic drivers. Randall Collins’ concept of Interaction Ritual Chains (2004), developed from the classic works of Emile Durkheim and Erving Goffman, among others, is useful to understand additional symbolic drivers contained in consumerism. This concept explains how shared rituals, marked by membership, mutual focus, and collective mood, generate emotional energy and social solidarity within a social group and community. These rituals, whether grand or mundane, formal or informal, are repeated because they energize participants and reinforce group identity, morality, and sense of belonging. This theory places greater emphasis on social interaction and co-presence than on social comparison and overt behavior.

In consumer societies, rituals often center around consumption (Miller, 1998; Boström, 2023). Activities like shopping, family dinners, vacations, or amusement park visits become emotionally charged events. Consumer goods — brands, cars, certain ways of dressing — emerge as “sacred objects”, symbolizing group affiliation, status, shared norms and values. A logo can signal membership in a brand community (Muniz & O’Guinn, 2001); a certain car may represent masculinity; and travel by aircraft may be linked to ideas of freedom and multicultural values. Even more mundane everyday acts like grocery shopping carry symbolic weight and are involved in establishing and reinforcing social bonds (Miller, 1998; Sigaard, 2026). While they help individuals express identity, they also help people connect with each other on a deeper level. Adolescent girls who trade clothes become “soulmates” (Belk, 1988), while mundane goods still play a role in sustaining rituals and shared meaning (Miller, 1998).

Through such everyday rituals, consumerism is deeply woven into family life, friendships, and workplace settings. It fosters emotional energy, social cohesion, and moral standards, creating feedback loops that reinforce consumption habits.

4.1 Status and Identity in a Stratified Society. The Symbolic Meaning of Purchasing the Right Things

The first aspect to explore is the ways in which status consumption extends into the realm of green consumption. Again, the mechanisms of fitting in and standing out are key to understanding the social dynamics. Green consumption is understood here as intentional efforts by people to integrate ethical and environmental concerns in the act of consumption, across various stages such as buying, using, and discarding objects. Such “green consumption” may not necessarily be very sustainable or have low socio-ecological or climate impact; what matters for the analysis is the intention. Also, green motives behind consumption can be fused with other personal, economic, and social motives, such as status and distinction, which will be discussed here.

A growing awareness of environmental issues contributes to the emergence of environmental identities, values, and practices as a form of cultural capital among middle-class groups (Isenhour, 2012; Carfagna et al., 2014; Geerts et al., 2023). During the recent decades, scholars have highlighted how “green” or “eco-friendly” choices, particularly conspicuous (visible) such as installing solar panels, driving electric cars, or wearing organic cotton can enhance (or protect) social status (Griskevicius et al., 2010; Elliot, 2013; Dubois & Ordabayeva, 2015; Uren et al., 2021; Geerts et al., 2023). Such consumption may serve as a visible marker of environmental awareness and social distinction — that is, an expression of “eco-habitus” (Carfagna et al., 2014; Huddart & Givens, 2019; O’Keefe et al., 2026). It may also reflect the emergence of new social norms within certain groups (Whitmarsh et al., 2017; O’Keefe et al., 2026). Noppers et al. (2014) found that the adoption of highly conspicuous products, such as electric vehicles, is driven not only by environmental and instrumental motives but also by symbolic ones. Moreover, symbolic motives can influence the adoption of less conspicuous innovations, including local renewable energy systems. This may be because such innovations contribute to a positive self-image and reinforce a green “extended self”. In this study, they also observed that the significance of symbolic motives needs to be detected through indirect methods; that is, not asking directly if people would choose a product due to status-enhancing qualities. People would not fully acknowledge how symbolic attributes affect choices, “as it may not be socially desirable to admit to having purchased a product to gain status or to see oneself in a more positive way” (Noppers et al., 2014, p. 53).

From a sustainability perspective (reducing negative socio-ecological and climate impact), the problem is that green consumption may still be heavily tied to consumerism — and its linkage to social status — and thus implies a narrow vision for how environmentally mindful actions can be integrated in everyday life. In an interview study of political and class differences in Washington state, Huddart and Givens (2019) found that “green consumption is the preeminent ideal for household engagement in environmental protection” (p. 654). People with strong eco-habitus, who had high cultural capital and relatively high economic capital, could relatively easily adapt to this moral standard around green consumption, whereas people with less cultural and economic capital expressed a sense of “eco-powerlessness”. These latter groups didn’t necessarily lack environmental concern — and they often had low carbon footprints — but felt overwhelmed by ecological problems and the existing situation, and/or frustrated by their inability to measure up to the moral standards of ecological citizenship.

In another study, Uren et al. (2021) found, in an Australian sample, that costly, publicly visible, and effortful environmental actions were perceived as conferring greater status. Installing solar panels and buying electric cars ranked significantly higher than recycling, walking (instead of driving), and taking part in public campaigns. They also speculate that social media provides another platform in which green actions can be made publicly visible and thus grant social status. However, participants in their study stated that conspicuous actions need to be moderated so that their visible actions are not interpreted as bragging: “perceived social status was diminished if the participant was acting with the intention to gain social status, or if the individual communicated the behavior with a sense of moral superiority” (p. 476). In another study, Geerts et al. (2023) found a positive relation between cultural engagement and environmental practices among the Flemish population. High-brow cultural capital was associated with pro-environmental shopping decisions, which was one type of environmental practice in their study (next to curtailment, sustainable transport, and sorting waste).

Studies like these show the importance of maintaining a critical eye toward symbolic drivers behind green consumption. Conspicuous green consumption may offer only a superficial remedy to high-impact climate behaviors and may even cement class distinctions and reproduce inequalities (Geerts et al., 2023), which can reproduce sentiments of relative poverty and contribute to continuous polarization in societies (Huddart, 2022). While such “green” choices may appear virtuous, they don’t necessarily reflect a deeper environmental commitment or a lower climate footprint. They are individualistic and don’t represent a critique of consumerism and materialist value-orientations. Green consumption may be appealing to people who have recently become environmentally aware and may not have (the social) willingness or capacity to deviate from mainstream consumerism (Isenhour, 2012). Instead of buying less, they are trying to buy better. In contrast, several studies have found that reduced consumption generally does not offer the same status appeal (Brooks & Wilson, 2015; De Nardo et al., 2017; Whitmarsh et al., 2017; Huddart & Givens, 2019; Huddart & Horne, 2019; Uren et al., 2021). The social rewards of frugality may be perceived as limited, making it harder to gain recognition for restraint.

On a more positive note, sufficiency and frugality norms could evolve within certain communities or cultural contexts and become part of the interaction rituals in the community, potentially reshaping how status is assigned. As identities and distinctions become more fragmented in late-modern stratified society, there are more role models available that could provide inspiration for identity formation, including more radical green distinctions, and serve as sources of social solidarity through novel interaction rituals (community gardening, sharing communities, etc.). In his ethnographic study of environmental activists, Dave Horton (2003) observed how environmentalism could challenge material affluence and conspicuous consumption. “Environmental activists distinguish themselves by the ‘austerity of elective restriction’, the ‘self-imposed constraint’ of ‘asceticism’”. (Horton, 2003, p. 67). They use their green cultural codes and scripts as a means of distinction. Their green identity was bolstered by the careful selection and use of material goods: bikes instead of cars, casual clothing, vegan diets, fair-trade and organic choices, etc. “The car is important as a conspicuous object of non-consumption among environmental activists” (Horton, 2003, p. 72).

4.2 Dealing with (Fewer) Possessions with Care and Attachment

Even if reduced consumption is not considered to convey high status among the public, as seen above, studies have, somewhat paradoxically, documented surprisingly high levels of public support for it (70–88 % in Oregon, US) as well as broad public critique of policies that stimulate economic growth (Bowerman, 2014). Indeed, cultural capital, as Bourdieu understood it, is certainly not merely about the quantity or volume of consumption. Mass consumption does not automatically equate to good taste; in fact, the two may be at odds. Good taste often arises from more refined and extraordinary forms of consumption, not from abundance. It requires long-term experiential learning: knowing how to use, appreciate, and engage with goods in culturally appropriate ways. This cultivated approach to consumption can act as a brake on the acceleration of cheap, fast, and mass-consumption habits. Rather than encouraging more, it promotes selectivity and restraint. In this light, we can see the potential for alternative consumption: slower, more intentional, quality-focused, and possibly anti-consumerist in nature. These possibilities suggest a shift away from volume-driven consumerism toward more meaningful engagement with goods, in which concern for their physicality, quality, authenticity, and tactile and aesthetic experiences matters more. Values such as community/place attachment, manual labor, and craftsmanship are also elevated. Notions such as “true materialism” (Carfagna et al., 2014; Schor & Thompson, 2014), “true hedonism” (Pelikán et al., 2020), and “alternative hedonism” (Soper, 2015) capture these possibilities.

4.3 The Symbolic Meaning of Reduced Consumption

While many areas of consumption provide symbolic meaning for people and sources of identification and distinction, so do practices of reducing and refusing consumption (Horton, 2003; Hogg et al., 2009; Isenhour, 2012; Portwood-Stacer, 2012), particularly as they are tied to new ideas and norms around alternative consumption and consumerist critique, for example those related to “sufficiency” (Callmer, 2019; Sandberg, 2021; Jungell-Michelsson & Heikkurinen, 2022) or other ways of sustainable living and communities (Schor & Thompson, 2014). Such groups of people may consider “materialists” and high-consumerist segments as dissociative reference groups. Hogg et al. (2009) address how an individual’s undesired self also operates around anti-consumption, including the rejection of brands, products, and services; a fact often neglected in consumption studies: “Anti-choice involves emotions, which means that symbolic rather than functional attributes often prevail as reasons for rejecting products and services. Anti-choice, therefore, links to the protection of self-esteem, which connects, in turn, to negative aspects of the self, including the undesired self” (Hogg et al., 2009, p. 150).

A green identity and social belonging can be important for many reasons beyond showing off to others; they can help establish greater consistency between one’s values, knowledge, and actions, as well as across actions (Whitmarsh & O’Neill, 2010; Whitmarsh et al., 2017). Sentiments of pride can be seen among people who are able to live with less than a consumerist standard of living and are satisfied with what they already have (Callmer & Boström, 2024). For example, this has been noticed among “voluntary simplifiers” in the Czech context: using longitudinal data, Pelikán et al. (2020) could study children of voluntary simplifiers in this country. They focused thematically on the reproduction of environmentally mindful lifestyles through generations, using Bourdieusian concepts. The study demonstrates how values (cultural capital and eco-habitus) were transmitted through generations within the family context. A combination of low economic capital and high cultural capital contributed to the embrace of a non-consumerist lifestyle (see also Laidley, 2013). Participants in the study were motivated by virtue ethics, which involves caring for others and crafting a meaningful life in which aesthetic practices take central place (art, music, reading). An important observation connects to the theme of relative poverty: “Parents’ relative poverty did not lead to a consumerist orientation among their children” (Pelikán et al., 2020, p. 432). The Bourdieusian distinction was involved in another sense, more in terms of not being mainstream in consumer society. “The children are aware, and sometimes even proud, of their difference” (Pelikán et al., 2020, p. 433). At the same time, it can be important to be able to consume less in a way that doesn’t signal one is living in poverty.

In her ethnographic study, Isenhour (2012) found that middle-class people found subtle ways to conspicuously communicate anti-consumption ideals and high cultural capital: bookshelves, prominent books, art, high-quality goods, travel souvenirs, gardens, carefully compiled second-hand furnishings and décor, and even high-quality, expensive items. Isenhour concludes that even people with very low consumption (and high cultural capital) can communicate a great deal about themselves and their social class belonging through their fewer possessions. They may also want to spread alternative ideas about what brings quality of life in ways other than through consumption.

We also need to keep a critical eye on conspicuous anti-consumption and reduced consumption. Such green distinctions can block communication and polarize populations, particularly if they appear as class- or gender-markers (see Huddart, 2022) or are involved in “othering the poor” (see Anantharaman, 2017). The concept of eco-habitus is the subject of debate around a paradoxical tension between openness (to other groups of people) and distinction (Schor et al., 2016; Geerts et al., 2023), or between openness and resistance to lifestyle change (Kirby, 2017). Even more, the spatial concentration of an eco-habitus population can drive (racialized) “eco-gentrification” as observed in the case of urban agriculture in Portland (McClintock, 2018).

Nonetheless, new norms and ideas about normality can also provide important reference points for people to identify with, opening paths to sufficient consumption for larger segments of the population. This needs to be combined with collective resistance to rising inequalities, polarizations, and gentrification. A core message to signal to broader audiences is that of how sufficiency can connect with well-being (Jackson, 2005 & 2017; Stackhouse et al., 2023).