The Trap of Appearances: A Society Consumed by Its Own Illusions

 

The Trap of Appearances: A Society Consumed by Its Own Illusions

Rahul Ramya

21.04.2025

Patna India

Our struggle to hide the wretched state of our lives behind significant flaws only makes our lives more pathetic, no matter how much we boast.

In this process, we try to pretend to be well-off, but in doing so, most of us fall into the trap of the EMI economy ecosystem, which is so vicious that we seldom get a chance to escape. Taking out loans to pay off other loans, and using EMIs to pay other EMIs, all just to maintain appearances in society, drains our meager resources and leaves us in the lurch. We keep the wheels of the consumer economy running at the cost of our health, education, psychological peace, and tranquility.

This reflection on how the pursuit of appearances can lead to financial and psychological strain is painful—the pressure to maintain a certain image that often results in debt cycles and EMI traps.

The cycle is indeed challenging—where loans are used to pay off other loans, and the desire to project success leads to financial decisions that ultimately undermine true well-being. This pursuit of external validation through consumption can come at the expense of what truly matters: health, education, peace of mind, and financial security.

There’s a certain irony in how attempting to appear successful can lead to the very opposite: a life constrained by debt and financial anxiety. The consumer economy certainly benefits from this behavior, but individuals caught in this cycle often suffer silently.

Today’s craze for financial advice breaks us into pieces. When a person struggling to survive the expectations of social standards takes such advice, they again dive deeper into the trap of expectations. Professional financial advisors have no solutions to socially crafted standards of living—which demand extravagance from such wretched people.

This reality is starkly evident across India’s social landscape. Take the case of middle-class families in urban centers like Mumbai and Bangalore, where young professionals earning modest salaries of ₹40,000-60,000 monthly feel compelled to purchase ₹15 lakh sedans through 7-year EMIs, simply because their peer circle considers it a status symbol. Financial advisors might suggest prudent alternatives like used cars or public transport, but these suggestions ignore the social stigma attached to “settling for less.”

Wedding celebrations exemplify this pressure perfectly. A government employee from Jaipur recently spent ₹25 lakh on his daughter’s wedding—nearly his entire life savings plus a loan—because anything less elaborate would have been deemed shameful in his community. Financial experts advising “simple ceremonies” miss how deeply social standing is tied to wedding grandeur in Indian society.

The smartphone market offers another telling example. A schoolteacher in Chennai earning ₹30,000 monthly purchased the latest iPhone worth ₹1.2 lakh on EMI, despite financial advisors recommending phones one-third the price. The social currency of displaying premium devices, particularly in WhatsApp family groups and social gatherings, outweighs rational financial planning.

In smaller cities like Lucknow and Indore, families stretch beyond their means to send children to international-curriculum schools charging ₹2-3 lakh annually, despite government schools being available. Financial advice to choose affordable education collides with the perceived social necessity of “elite schooling” for maintaining family reputation.

The housing market perhaps best illustrates this phenomenon. Young couples in Pune and Hyderabad commit to 25-year mortgages for apartments in prestigious localities, consuming 50-60% of their monthly income, when renting would be financially prudent. The social pressure to own property—and in the “right” neighborhoods—trumps sound financial planning every time.

Such social constructs are our own collective failures of consciousness where appearances are weighed more than realities. This philosophical and epistemological collapse of our understanding is a combined outcome of our failures in economy, education, cultural shrinkage, value systems of greed, etc., which drive us to aspire for more than our limits.

The economic framework we’ve adopted glorifies endless consumption rather than contentment. Markets thrive on perpetual dissatisfaction, convincing us that happiness awaits in the next purchase. GDP growth becomes the supreme indicator of progress, overshadowing metrics of actual well-being. When economic success is measured solely by consumption patterns, frugality becomes a social failure rather than wisdom.

Our educational systems have deteriorated into credential factories rather than centers for critical thinking. Schools and universities rarely challenge students to question societal norms or consumption patterns. Instead, education itself has become commodified—expensive degrees function as status symbols rather than pathways to enlightenment. We learn formulas and facts but not how to evaluate the hidden psychological costs of our lifestyle choices or how to derive meaning beyond material acquisition.

Cultural shrinkage manifests as traditional wisdom about moderation and simple living gets replaced by homogenized global consumerism. Ancient philosophies across civilizations—whether it’s the concept of “aparigraha” (non-possession) in Indian thought or similar ideas in other traditions—once provided counterbalance to material excess. These cultural safeguards have eroded, leaving nothing to restrain the impulse toward conspicuous consumption.

The value system has shifted dramatically, elevating greed from vice to virtue. The collective ethos now celebrates visible wealth accumulation rather than character development or community contribution. Success is increasingly defined by possessions rather than purpose, creating a moral framework where appearances naturally triumph over substance. When society’s heroes are billionaires rather than the compassionate or wise, our aspirational landscape becomes warped.

This confluence of factors creates a perfect storm where we constantly reach beyond reasonable limits. The boundary between needs and wants blurs completely. We exhaust ourselves pursuing standards of living that offer little genuine fulfillment while creating environmental destruction, social division, and personal anxiety. Our measure of self-worth becomes externalized, dependent on validation through consumption rather than internal coherence with our deepest values.

Deepening the Critique with Data, Global Parallels, and Hope

The scale of this problem in India can be statistically illustrated. According to the Reserve Bank of India’s Household Financial Debt Survey (2023), Indian households are now carrying a debt burden equal to over 37% of their annual income, a figure that has risen sharply in the last five years. In urban centers, credit card usage and personal loans have surged disproportionately. A 2023 CRIF High Mark report shows that over 50 million Indians now hold active personal loans, many used to fund consumer durables and lifestyle expenses rather than emergencies. And among millennial and Gen Z segments, EMI-based consumption has become the default lifestyle, creating long-term liabilities on short-term desires.

This crisis is not uniquely Indian. In the United States, the Federal Reserve Bank reports that household debt reached $17.3 trillion in 2023—largely driven by mortgages, student loans, auto loans, and credit card debt. Like in India, this debt is often sustained not by necessity, but by the pressure to maintain a lifestyle that signifies success. A 2022 Pew Research Center study found that 63% of Americans feel pressure to “keep up with others” financially—even when they know it’s detrimental to their mental health.

In South Korea, known for its hyper-competitive society, youth debt is at historic highs. A 2022 report by the Korea Financial Services Commission revealed that nearly 40% of people in their 20s were servicing multiple loans, mostly to fund housing, fashion, and electronic goods purchases. In Brazil and Indonesia, easy credit access has created a “consumer boom” where credit card defaults are now endemic among the lower middle class.

Clearly, this is not an Indian anomaly, but a feature of late capitalist society, where the market thrives on producing dissatisfaction and the illusion of choice. In all these societies, the underlying logic remains the same: external appearances as the currency of social worth.

Yet, within this storm, there are pockets of resistance—individuals and communities challenging this consumerist tide. In Kerala, Kudumbashree women’s collectives have shown how cooperative thrift, simplicity, and collective ownership can replace blind consumerism. In parts of rural Maharashtra, the Gram Panchayats promoting zero-debt weddings are quietly reclaiming dignity through simplicity. In urban India, minimalist lifestyle communities such as “The Minimalist Wardrobe India” on social media are encouraging young professionals to embrace value-driven consumption rather than image-driven purchases.

Internationally, Denmark’s “hygge” culture, which emphasizes comfort, coziness, and simplicity over materialism, offers a striking counter-model to the consumerist rat race. In Japan, traditional Zen and wabi-sabi values—appreciating imperfection and the beauty of the modest—still influence many aspects of daily life, tempering the urge for ostentation.

These alternatives show that different value systems are possible—even in modern economies. They may not dominate the mainstream yet, but they offer cultural blueprints of sustainability and sanity, which India and the world can revisit and revive.

In conclusion, the malaise exposed is not merely a personal or national problem—it is a global condition, perpetuated by an economic and cultural machinery that equates self-worth with spending power. To challenge this requires more than financial advice—it demands a cultural revolution, a reimagining of what it means to live well, to be successful, and to be human.

Rethinking the Trap: Real Solutions from Real Societies

The problem of debt-fueled appearances is not insurmountable. Across the world, there are models—modest but meaningful—that point toward alternative pathways to resist the tyranny of image-based consumerism. These solutions work because they are grounded in local culture, collective action, and ethical imagination. They do not preach austerity for the sake of it but offer a framework for reclaiming human dignity from the jaws of capitalist illusion.

1. Community-driven economic alternatives: Kudumbashree in Kerala

The Kudumbashree Mission in Kerala offers one of the most inspiring stories of how grassroots women’s collectives can not only empower individuals economically but also foster a cultural shift away from hyper-consumerism.

With over 4.5 million women organized into self-help groups, Kudumbashree promotes frugality, dignity in labor, and financial literacy. Instead of chasing borrowed lifestyles, members pool resources, engage in micro-enterprises, and support one another in resisting the pressure of unnecessary spending. Many groups have banned extravagant weddings and ceremonies within their networks and instead promote low-cost, community-centric celebrations.

By creating a parallel social standard rooted in solidarity rather than status, Kudumbashree has redefined what it means to ‘appear successful’—in terms of cooperation, not consumption.

2. Zero-debt weddings in Maharashtra and Tamil Nadu

Faced with the crushing burden of wedding expenses—often exceeding annual incomes—some Indian communities have taken remarkable steps to combat the culture of dowry and excessive show.

In rural Maharashtra, several Gram Panchayats have passed local resolutions promoting “zero-debt weddings.” These ceremonies cap guest lists, food expenses, and decoration budgets while publicly shaming any form of dowry. In places like Ahmednagar and Jalgaon, families have begun celebrating such modest weddings as a badge of honor. Importantly, Panchayat members attend these weddings as a show of social approval.

In Tamil Nadu, the Thirukovilur Panchayat Union has started offering incentives of ₹25,000 for couples who register a low-cost wedding and avoid dowry. This state-local cooperation creates new social incentives to opt out of the race for appearances.

3. Financial literacy anchored in social understanding

Most financial literacy programs fail because they divorce budgeting advice from the social psychology of consumption. However, programs like SEWA Bank’s Financial Literacy Program in Gujarat succeed by acknowledging these dynamics.

Here, low-income women are trained not just in savings or loans, but in understanding the emotional traps that come with peer pressure and societal expectations. The curriculum includes role-playing exercises where women act out real-life scenarios like borrowing for gold jewelry or smartphones to keep up with neighbors—and explore alternatives with group support.

As a result, many SEWA members have reported a shift in priorities: investing in their children’s education or health instead of vanity-driven purchases.

4. Cultural revival movements: Minimalism and frugality reimagined

India is also witnessing the rise of urban counterculture movements that resist mass consumerism. The “Minimalist Wardrobe India” community on Instagram and Reddit brings together professionals who share stories of opting out—downsizing homes, rejecting EMI-based gadget upgrades, and living within real incomes.

This is not just aesthetic minimalism but an ethical resistance to the marketplace. Some members describe “celebrating simplicity” as the new aspiration. The success lies in how they publicly valorize contentment over accumulation, thus gradually rewriting the norms of success.

Globally, Japan’s “Danshari” lifestyle—which means “refuse, dispose, and separate”—has gained traction as a method of emotional and material decluttering. It emphasizes rejecting the identity crisis imposed by possessions. Authors like Fumio Sasaki have inspired millions by living in homes with only 100 items, sparking conversations in India as well.

5. Education that questions, not just qualifies

An important structural solution lies in changing the content of education itself. The Rishi Valley School in Andhra Pradesh, inspired by Jiddu Krishnamurti’s philosophy, teaches students not just to read or calculate, but to reflect deeply on desire, identity, and simplicity. Students discuss why consumption doesn’t equal happiness and are encouraged to find self-worth outside material comparisons.

In Finland—consistently ranked among the happiest nations—the education system explicitly discourages competition and status-seeking behavior among students. Finnish children are not graded till age 10, and emphasis is laid on cooperative learning, life balance, and introspection.

This proves that alternative education systems can instill values early on that resist the toxic culture of appearances.

6. Public policy to reduce structural compulsion

Governments too have a role. In Singapore, the Central Provident Fund (CPF) system encourages long-term saving for retirement, housing, and healthcare. Because essential expenses are largely secured, citizens face less pressure to project false status for survival or future security.

India could explore similar structural changes—for instance, mandating affordable housing caps, education cost regulation, or providing wedding loans only for modest ceremonies, rather than open-ended personal loans for extravagant consumption.

States like Sikkim have begun implementing happiness indices in governance, shifting away from GDP obsession. This approach can gradually redirect public policy towards qualitative well-being rather than promoting material accumulation as the sole indicator of success.

Redefining Success

The trap of appearances is not just a personal failing—it is a structurally imposed illusion perpetuated by unchecked capitalism, misplaced cultural pride, and insecure social hierarchies. But resistance is possible—and already visible—wherever community, consciousness, and courage coalesce.

Whether it’s a Kudumbashree woman choosing community wealth over bridal gold, or a Japanese minimalist finding peace with fewer things, or a village panchayat saying “no more loans for lavish weddings”—these are not isolated acts. They are the beginnings of a new social grammar, one where being matters more than appearing, and dignity outweighs display.

In reviving and scaling such movements, we don’t just escape the EMI trap—we begin to restore sanity to a civilization drowning in its own illusions.

This entire reflection points toward a need to reimagine capitalism not as a license for unrestrained consumption, but as a moral and social framework that serves human dignity, freedom, and justice. That’s exactly where the foundational philosophers of economic thought like Adam Smith, Amartya Sen, and contemporary thinkers like Raghuram Rajan converge—even if from different directions.

1. Adam Smith: A Moral Economy, Not a Market Alone

Though often hailed as the father of modern capitalism, Adam Smith was first and foremost a moral philosopher. In his Theory of Moral Sentiments, he emphasized that human behavior is governed not only by self-interest but by empathy, moral judgment, and a desire for mutual approval. Smith imagined markets embedded in ethical societies, where the pursuit of wealth would be balanced by compassion and social responsibility.

But today’s consumerist culture has amputated Smith’s capitalism from its moral foundation. It celebrates self-interest without sympathy, and status without substance.

2. Amartya Sen: Development as Freedom, Not Just Income

Sen’s contribution reframes the goal of economy as expanding real freedoms, not just GDP. He speaks of capabilities—the real opportunities people have to live the kind of lives they value. Under this lens, a person trapped in EMI loops just to uphold social image may be economically “active,” but functionally unfree.

Sen’s Idea of Justice pushes us to ask: are people free to choose frugality without shame? Can they access dignified education, housing, or weddings without social stigma? If not, no amount of economic growth will produce a just society.

3. Raghuram Rajan: Saving Capitalism from Capitalists

Rajan’s warning in The Third Pillar is blunt but prescient: when markets overpower communities and governments, capitalism becomes predatory. He calls for strengthening the “third pillar”—local communities and social networks—to ensure that markets serve, rather than dominate, societies.

What we see in India’s EMI traps, debt-driven ceremonies, and peer-pressure purchases is precisely capitalism detached from community morality. The market has invaded social life, defining prestige, success, and even love in transactional terms.

The Motto for Our Time: Save Capitalism from Capitalists

This motto isn’t anti-market—it’s pro-society. It suggests:

• Restoring ethical anchors to the market
  
  

• Reviving social and moral responsibility alongside enterprise
  
  

• Measuring growth through freedom, well-being, and capability, not consumption alone
  
  

What we need is not the abolition of capitalism, but a deep moral restructuring—a capitalism guided by moral sentiments, committed to real freedom, and protected from capture by greed.

This is not utopian. It is the original vision of thinkers we have misinterpreted or forgotten. And as this essay argues, real-world success stories—like Kudumbashree, zero-debt weddings, SEWA’s financial literacy, and education experiments—are already living expressions of this re-imagined capitalism.