The other day, I was heading out for one of my daily runs. As I was getting changed into my running gear, I realized that I had inadvertently brought two socks for the same foot. Now, for those who don’t obsess over running—or, more specifically, the minute details of their running gear—running socks are generally side-dependant. There are left socks and right socks. Critical to ones performance, obviously.
The challenge, of course, is during laundry sorting, when the left sock must reunite with the right. For whatever reason, on this run I was faced with two right socks and had to decide: should I skip my run entirely (non-runners will be incredulous that this was even a prospect, runners will understand), or should I turn one sock inside out and wear it that way? Begrudgingly, I chose the latter.
Upon reflection, I realized that my two-right-sock dilemma stemmed from a deeper issue: my sock drawer is a disaster. I am, as you have read, very particular about my running socks, yet I hate shopping. This means that every few years, I find myself with a drawer full of mismatched, threadbare socks and an urgent need to replace them.
All this contemplation about socks feels timely, given that next week marks what some might jokingly call the apocalypse—but is, in fact, Black Friday and Cyber Monday. For those who don’t closely follow retail trends, these two days represent a frenzy of consumerism where shoppers scoop up mountains of goods, many of which they have no real need for.
Over the past decade, New Zealand, like many countries, has imported this American tradition—alongside Halloween and gender reveal parties. The Friday and Monday after Thanksgiving have become monumental retail events, during which unassuming consumers are enticed into buying products they don’t need, all because of irresistible discounts. Given the current economic downturn, it is perhaps unsurprising that the Black Friday emails started at the beginning of November, a full month before the actual day itself.
My social media feeds are bursting with invitations to early-access Black Friday deals, special VIP pricing, and countdowns to the “biggest shopping day of the year.” I even know of companies that temporarily shut down their business in the days leading up to Black Friday, all to heighten the hype and anticipation.
I’ve railed against the Black Friday phenomenon in the past. I’ve told people that my business, Cactus Outdoor, doesn’t participate in Black Friday deals. Instead of encouraging hours spent online hunting bargains, we’d rather suggest people spend time outdoors, reconnecting with nature and reflecting on how their actions impact people and the planet.
But this isn’t a pitch for my business—hardly, since we actively avoid the Black Friday madness. Instead, this is a heartfelt critique of consumerism and capitalism at large. These volatile retail patterns—where significant portions of annual revenue depend on just one or two days—are not good for people, the planet, or economic stability.
This model undermines stability, places immense strain on resources, and fosters environmental and social harm. Retailers must fulfill an avalanche of orders within a short timeframe, a process that is highly resource-intensive. More importantly, Black Friday promotes a culture of consuming without thought—a habit that’s harmful on many levels.
Let me be clear: I’m not some radical hippie advocating for us to wear sackcloth and live in caves. I drive a car, use a smartphone and computer, and wear modern (and expensive) running shoes. However, I make a conscious effort to avoid consuming simply for the thrill of it. That adrenaline rush from hitting the “Buy” button is fleeting, leaving us with little more than buyer’s remorse and a pile of unnecessary crap.
The problem is that this pattern—buying for the temporary high—is unsustainable. It hooks us into habits that are harmful to ourselves, our communities, and our planet. It’s consumer cocaine writ large.
I understand that economic times are tough, and if you genuinely need something—say, a new pair of running socks—and you know they’ll be cheaper during Black Friday, it makes perfect sense to wait and buy them then. That’s thoughtful consumption, tailored to meet a specific need.
But that’s very different from endlessly scrolling through social media ads, chasing deals on things you didn’t even know you wanted until an algorithm convinced you otherwise. For me, the opportunity is not to reject consumerism outright—it’s about redefining how we engage with it. It’s a chance to make smarter, more thoughtful choices.
So, as Black Friday approaches, I encourage you to pause. Consider the impact of your purchases—not just on your wallet, but on the environment and the people behind the products. For my part, I’ll be running (maybe with mismatched socks) and reflecting on how to tread more lightly in this world.
Let’s make this Black Friday about mindful decisions, not mindless consumption.
Love this Ben. I also love the fact that in previous years your company has offered free mending services at this time – It is such an important message.