“BUY LOCAL!“ You have probably heard that phrase–certainly in the US, and probably in Europe and other places.

• As we stumble through the mental haze from our social media buzz, under the shadow of big-box stores and Amazon, this may strike you as a trite slogan, but “Buy Local” may be our best hope.

Some History

As Amazon was accelerating its reach during the early 2000’s, “buy local” struck me as an empty phrase. The local shopping experience was typically not very enjoyable. Local prices were way higher, and the in-store experience could be soul-crushing. Indifferent and untrained store clerks, inaccurate inventory and the iffy condition of that in-store merchandise made it truly painful to “buy local.”

The national bookstore chains were the most obvious example of this. Remember Borders? Crown? Waldenbooks? Tower? I remember vividly that using Amazon (which happened to choose books as their initial market) made it obvious that bookseller giant Borders was among the walking-dead, and they went into bankruptcy in 2006, finally closing all stores (including their Waldenbooks stores that were in hundreds of US shopping malls) in 2011.

Smaller Tower Records & Books lasted until 2006, but troubled Crown Bookstores failed in 2001. A few other national and regional chains–along with many small independent bookstores–also went out of business during that time, and that trend unfortunately continues today. (Barnes & Noble is the remaining national bookstore chain, but I don’t know why they have survived. My experiences there still make me reach for my Amazon app.)

I remember thinking “I am a little troubled that Borders went away–Tower, Waldenbooks & Crown too–but the Amazon experience is actually better, and so are their prices–by a LOT.” I was truly saddened by the hit that independent bookstores and their local communities were taking, but I reluctantly overlooked that as the collateral damage from “progress”.

In the Meantime

The decimation of local retailers started a few years earlier by big-box stores (including Walmart), and this mushroomed after 2015–fueled by Amazon’s momentum.

Shoppers like me surrendered the positive social interactions available from shopping in our communities for the convenience and efficiency of online for many purchases, while defaulting to the numbing experience of big-box stores for the rest. Dozens of national retail chains went out of business, along with hundreds of locally-owned retailers. Businesses all have life cycles, and no business lasts forever, but this was way beyond “the circle of [business] life.”

• Communities everywhere lost a big chunk of their soul, but it took us a while to recognize the damage.

This is Now

The 2016 election cycle laid bare the descent–especially in the US–of our societies into the smouldering melancholy of transactional social interactions and increasing isolation. An entire generation of kids came of age not knowing how to argue constructively, and those of us who were already adults found ourselves unable (or unwilling) to engage in healthy debate of issues–whether trivial or consequential.

As a technology nerd, I am heartbroken to admit that our collective addiction to social media algorithms and their psychological strangulation is a major contributor to this hole we dug for ourselves. Like any addiction, ours made us seek more of the dopamine hits by descending further down the algorithm-directed echo chamber until we became unwilling to think for ourselves.

Couple this with our habit of avoiding meaingful community interactions (including shopping), and it is not surprising that it feels more comfortable to order throw-away commodities made in sweat shops and delivered the next day by indentured servants than it is to muster the energy for a constructive interaction by shopping in our local community.

We Can, and we Will, Fix This

Fortunately, we are not sentenced remain in this condition.

We all can cut back on social media and other addictive behaviors–even if weaning ourselves (and our brains) just a little bit at a time. When we are doom-scrolling, we can make it a point to notice what that does to our mood–and switch to another activity when we don’t like what we notice.

We can spend more of our energy on thinking more carefully about how we spend our time. Like dieting, the simple act of being intentional about how we use our time will change the way we behave–almost certainly in a healthy direction.

We can go out of our way to notice our neighbors–perhaps just starting with waving or saying “Hi” more often, then gradually engaging in substantive conversations with them.

As we re-emerge socially and physically, we can make it a point to re-engage with our broader communities. Buying local is an easy way to do that, and it has the happy side effect of making our community more financially resilient.

The New Era of Pricing

Remember that pricing differential I recalled from Amazon’s early days? Many things are still less expensive on Amazon than they are just about anywhere else. This hasn’t changed. But something pretty significant has changed: The prices for many purchases—frequently higher value items like tools, appliances, electronics, etc.—are now just about the same at your local store as they are on Amazon.

Indirectly, you can thank Amazon for this. Amazon now uses its buying power (which translates into pricing power) on a decreasing percentage of items sold on Amazon. In fact, the majority Amazon sales volume is by third-party sellers, who don’t have the pricing power on what they are selling that Amazon has as the largest bookseller. In other words, most Amazon sellers have thin profit margins to begin with, so they cannot afford to low-ball their prices.

If anything, Amazon sellers are tempted to raise their prices, and Amazon knows this, so they require these sellers to keep their prices within a tight range. Specifically, Amazon prohibits sellers from “setting a price on a product or service that is significantly higher than recent prices offered on or off Amazon.” This is an example of “most-favored nations” language (named after language in international trade agreements).

The net result to us shoppers is that (unlike the early days when Amazon was the only “seller” on Amazon) sellers are frequently pricing items the same on Amazon as they cost us anywhere else, so we are no longer paying a pricing penalty by shopping in our communities for the things we really care about.

• Side Note: Pure commodities will likely always be cheaper–and more convenient–to buy via an online solution like Amazon, and that’s OK. We should be efficient when dealing with non-value-added things like this, so there will always be a place for Amazon.

Buying Local: It Adds Up

Each of us probably spend a few thousand dollars (or their equivalent) on purchases (“stuff”) each year. In the US, there are roughly 300 million of us who buy stuff. Let’s pretend we each spend exactly $3,000 US. That’s $900 billion US. (That’s real money.)

If half of that is commodities (stuff we don’t care that much about), let’s assume we don’t waste our time trying to buy that locally. That leaves the other half, or $450 billion US per year, going straight into our local communities.

That’s the money part, and it has real impact. Imagine what that much money pouring into our local communities can do.

But bolt yourself to your chair. Let’s add up the social/relationship impact.

Let’s say that $1,500 we spend on “important” stuff is split up into just 10 purchases. (Yeah, you are correct; we probably make way more “important” purchases than that.) Even this small number adds up: 300 million shoppers in the US are now having 10 person-to-person interactions–most likely with multiple people each time. This adds up to at least 3 billion person-to-person, face-to-face, social interactions per year.

• Imagine what that could do to rebuild civility in our communities.

Breathtaking, eh?

• Intentionality is a powerful thing.

Buy Local anyone?