To Buy Is To Give

To buy is to give. This is obvious when we think about it. When we buy something we give our money to someone and in return, they give us what we want - a simple exchange that forms the basis of our complex economic systems. But when we think of “giving”, or when a pastor gets up and says “today’s sermon is on giving”, what first springs to mind is the giving of our money away to someone whose needs are greater than ours, without receiving anything in return - in other words, charity. For giving to be charitable we tend to assume it has to be a sacrifice. This feels right to us. Giving should not primarily benefit us, it should feel like a sacrifice, and it should cause us a bit of pain and loss, should it not?

Well yes, and no.

Firstly, yes, charity should hurt our pockets otherwise it is more akin to tokenism, salving perhaps our own conscience but achieving not much else. When a man gives a pound to a beggar the beggar is not tangibly helped. Instead, his situation may be worse than before if receiving this “gift” keeps him on the streets instead of seeking professional help. When we give charitably, then, it should hurt our pockets and crucially should lead to significant beneficial results in the lives of those we support. This will entail giving more money, and giving with more wisdom, exerting a mental and time-related cost on us as well as financial. This is especially important in times of disaster and emergency - in these situations efficiently channelling the money to where the relief is needed, and to those best situated and equipped to help is paramount. Lives depend on it.

But even in times of emergency, we must still be careful. There are dangers to charitable/relief giving such as when we create dependencies,¹ or when we prevent those we give to from finding their own solutions - solutions which are more likely to suit their actual needs and which can, in turn, build up their future financial resilience and independence. It is critical to remember poverty is not just about not having enough money, but not having the capacity to realise one’s potential as a human being.²

And secondly, no, giving doesn’t always have to feel like a sacrifice. Our giving should be cheerful at all times (2 Corinthians 9:7) and when we give well (taking consideration of the caveats above) and thus see lives transformed, or situations improved, we can take joy in our giving and receive much in return - an emotional return, a relational return (between us and the beneficiary), and an eternal return (Matthew 19:21). However, there remains a further form of giving that looks even less like a sacrifice. It is one where the material benefit is mutual - I am talking about when we buy well.

Buying well is a form of giving

I argue that buying well is a form of giving (and an important one at that), but one we have probably never considered. Determining how buying well is actually a form of giving will take some explaining as it seems counterintuitive. But, embrace the apparent paradox for a while, and hopefully, all will become clear.

Many of us aim to give 10% or more of our income to church or charity. What is left is our surplus income (although rarely does giving come first, rather we give what is left after we have spent on ourselves), and with this, we feel entitled to spend as we choose to satisfy our desires exclusively. But this is wrong. We are meant to steward all of our resources and finances well, for the good of ourselves and our neighbours - and we do this when we spend our money well by buying well. This means buying with wisdom and thoughtfulness, mindful not only of how spending our money benefits us but also those around us — chiefly, the one we are buying from. And crucially, it will also potentially mean spending more.

When we choose to “sacrifice” our desire for low prices to instead buy something more expensive, of quality, of beauty, of ethical production, and of craftsmanship, we contribute to enabling the producer to continue in his craft, keeping traditions and craftsmanship alive which enrich society. When we buy direct from the farmer who grows her crops sustainably or treats her animals ethically we support her livelihood, enabling this virtuous, sustainable means of production to continue. And when we buy from a business founded on ethical practice we are investing in them, helping them survive in the dog-eat-dog world of business. When we buy and consume from these people, we thus invest in a more virtuous economy - the benefits of which spread to the local community and beyond.

It may though seem luxurious to spend those extra pounds as these goods will often be more expensive - and yes there is a danger that we end up using buying well as a pretence for justifying luxurious living. But, perhaps when we buy goods that are more expensive we are actually paying the proper price for the goods. We have come to accept as the norm the underinflated, distorted, and suppressed price of cheap food and goods, and have considered well-produced, artisanal, and local food/goods as luxury because of their greater expense. But there is a good reason why food from your local farm shop is more expensive than the supermarket. It is not only because it is of better quality, but because it is also the price the farmer requires to cover his costs and make a living. We forget that most of our farmers can only survive due to subsidies³. The farmer who farms for the good of his local community (including the local environment) will inevitably have higher costs which will need recuperating if he is to survive. Farming in this manner will also mean he will lose yield and profit by leaving space for nature or using less intensive and harmful practices. On the other hand, the farmer who cuts corners by industrialising and intensifying to the Nth degree (thus damaging his land and harming those around him), saves money, increases his yield, and can offer his produce at a lower price. When the two farmer’s products come to the supermarket shelves we all know which item ends up in the shopping trolley…

The share of our income spent on food in the UK has fallen from 35% in 1950 to around 10% today⁴. We are still consuming as much food as we did then and perhaps even more (obesity rates in the UK are reaching epidemic proportions⁵) so the cause of the decline has been the cheapening of food. And with each percentage decrease in our income share, it has become harder and harder for farmers to farm in a way that benefits the whole of life: themselves, their community, and the creation on and surrounding their farm. To compete with the mega-farms, farmers have been forced to industrialise, removing the biodiversity from our lands, degrading our soils, and filling our rivers with pollutants in the process. And as James Rebanks (who has witnessed this transition first hand) states, industrialisation and intensification have emptied the rural landscape of its inhabitants - they are no longer needed. They are an extra cost that can be replaced with a machine that never grumbles about low wages and long hours.

An objection

However, it could be argued “isn’t it better to buy cheaply in order to have more to give charitably” - which is surely the more virtuous form of giving? The answer to this is to pose the question “do the means justify the ends”? Should we buy clothes that are cheap (that have probably been made in a sweatshop for a pittance) so that we have more money to spare to give back to the poor? No. Rather than buying cheap food, clothes, furniture, (or whatever we buy) so that you have more money to give to those who work for hard taskmasters, or in unjust situations, why not buy goods and food produced and manufactured by those who pay their workers a fair wage, thus supporting and investing in this virtuous form of production? If the majority of western consumers did this, it would become more profitable to produce goods in an ethical manner, and we may force through competition those who treat their workers unfairly to change their ways or risk losing business⁶.

If we wish to positively impact the world by creating the necessary change, then we will have to provide the necessary funds to support the transition. As shown above, an effective way of providing these funds is to spend our money well which can: conserve the environment, produce and share beauty, support virtuous lifestyles, and bring us joy. Perhaps we don’t always need to sacrifice ourselves, perhaps we sometimes need to see beyond the figure on the price label to the face and lifestyles of those who produce good quality - and buy from them for their sake. Granted, this was easier in the past when we knew the names and faces of those who produced well-made goods (butchers, blacksmiths, craftsmen, greengrocers…). We knew their names and they knew ours. We knew their reputation and quality of work. They were our neighbours and we gladly supported their livelihoods. Now, most of these local livelihoods have vanished and the lives we now support through our purchasing are distant and unknown to us but are still there and still important.

Part of the reason why we have lost the local producers who brought joy into our lives through their personal touch, made quality items that fed us well or lasted the test of time, and lived in a more ethical manner⁷ is because we have become infatuated with cheapness and/or quantity over quality. We have forgotten what it means to buy and spend well. Now our supermarkets are full of food produced halfway around the world, often in questionable ethical circumstances, and dominated by a few mega-corporations who care about profit - and not about you. But their items are cheap - and we are all too easily tempted. Thus, the footfall through the increasingly rare but welcoming doors of the butchers, greengrocers, and market stall owners who continue to survive (often hanging on by a thread) declines all the more - and with every passing year more shut up shop for good.

A final plea

But it doesn’t have to be this way. We can reverse the trend. We need to remind ourselves and others that buying quality is not always a luxury, sometimes it is a necessity, not for us but for those whom we buy from. To spend well will mean we spend more and have less to spare - but we will be protecting what is treasured, supporting what is beautiful, and giving to noble causes. We will help to create a more convivial, beautiful, and ethical world, a world where what is truly valuable is cherished, and a world where those who create quality and bless their communities are rewarded.

So next time you are weighing up which item to buy, don’t just consider the cost. Consider who and what you are supporting with your purchase. Remember there is a face behind the product, a landscape that has grown it, hands that have made it. You are always supporting a livelihood when you spend money so ask yourself “what kind am I supporting?”. Is it local or multinational, destructive or creative, ethical or harmful?

Consider these things - and buy well.

1. For an in-depth treatment on this eye-opening subject, see Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert, When Helping Hurts. Moody Press.

2. Amartya Sen, Development as Freedom, Knopf.

3. Bella Bathurst, Field Work.

4. James Rebanks, English Pastoral, Penguin. page 170.

5. The King’s Fund, Tackling Obesity in the UK, https://www.kingsfund.org.uk/publications/tackling-obesity-nhs

6. This is the ethic behind Hand in Hand Group https://www.handinhandgroup.com, who pay their African workers a fair wage and aim to be the best in the business in the construction world. Through this, they aim to attract the best talent/motivate their workers to perform to the best of their ability thus outcompeting their competitors who pay less than the living wage.

7. James Rebanks, English Pastoral, Penguin. page 171.