Holidays used to be about stories. Stories passed down through generations, stories shared over long dinners, stories of togetherness, gratitude and reflection. But as we head into another holiday season, that sense of connection and tradition is being drowned out by something louder: consumerism.
Consumerism is an ideology that places value on excessive consumption of material goods and services. In Kosovo, as in many parts of the world, the essence of holidays has shifted. What was once a time for celebration and reflection, has turned into an expectation to spend, buy and consume.
The shift in Kosovo mirrors broader global trends over the past decades, particularly those originating in the U.S. and Western Europe. Back amid World War II, the U.S. government encouraged domestic spending to boost the economy, giving rise to a “consumer republic” that linked patriotism with consumption.
Initially centered on home goods, this spending culture evolved as corporations tapped into it with targeted marketing, embedding materialism into American life. Over time, these habits shaped the global economy, influencing people in Europe and across the world to adopt similar behaviors. Mass consumerism’s rise in Europe and beyond can be largely attributed to the influence of Americanization.
Holidays like Christmas and New Year’s — to name two — offer us a moment to pause, appreciate our loved ones, and reflect on the things we are grateful for. Recently, however, events like Black Friday have shifted the season’s focus toward something else entirely: consumerism.
Influenced by media and advertising, the holidays slowly shifted from their original meaning of focusing on community bonding to one of consumerism.
Black Friday, which was originally a U.S. tradition on the day after Thanksgiving, has become a global phenomenon, pushing people to buy more than ever before. Now, even in places like Kosovo — where Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated widely — Black Friday marks the start of the holiday season, turning the focus toward sales, discounts and spending rather than connection and reflection.
Despite not being tied to the dominant religious or cultural traditions, the growing celebration of Thanksgiving and Christmas in Kosovo shows how much globalization has reshaped how we experience the holidays. Influenced by media and advertising, the holidays slowly shifted from their original meaning of focusing on community bonding to one of consumerism.
And it is not only Black Friday. Boxing Day, a holiday traditionally celebrated in the U.K. and Commonwealth countries on the day after Christmas, is another good example of this. Historically, it was a time to give to the less fortunate with a focus on generosity. Over time, though, even as inequality has increased, that meaning has been overtaken by consumerism, with big sales and shopping now taking center stage. Boxing Day hasn’t caught on in places like Kosovo, showing how globalization amplifies certain celebrations while leaving others behind. A common trend across many countries is the transformation of a holiday traditionally rooted in charitable giving has been turned into a showcase of commercial excess.
As the season becomes more commercialized, it often feels like the true meaning of holidays is overshadowed by one question: “What will I buy this year?” And with every holiday season passing, overwhelm is to be expected.
I truly love the act of giving — the thoughtfulness behind finding the perfect gift and the joy it brings. But this time of year always brings a sense of tension, especially when I find myself swept up in the constant barrage of advertisements and materialism. On one hand, I want to buy thoughtful gifts that will bring joy and make memories. On the other hand, the pressure to spend — fed by the commercial rage — sometimes makes me wonder: Am I giving because I want to, or because I feel obligated to fulfill some unwritten social contract?
Consumerism’s human cost
The disconnect becomes even more evident when I look at this consumer-driven cycle’s human cost. Every November and December, the holiday shopping season generates massive corporate profits. Many families worldwide end up spending over an entire month’s income on Christmas. The desire for material goods and the increasing commercialization of holidays seem to come at the expense of both human well-being and the traditions that once defined these special times.
Take New Year’s, for example. When I was growing up, it was a quiet, intimate time — dinner with close family members and staying up until the early hours. Now it seems that New Year’s has become a major event marked by expensive parties, clothes and the pressure to go all out.
Commercialization has also seeped into the way we decorate our homes. There is always this need to have the most elaborate holiday displays, such as a big Christmas tree or better tree decorations. In some ways, it feels like the joy of decorating has been replaced by a race of materialism. Nowadays, it is not just about decorating our homes; it’s about signaling status.
In this framework, buying gifts becomes less about the emotional connection between the giver and receiver and more about fulfilling societal expectations.
I feel that, more than ever, we are losing touch with the true essence of the holidays in favor of fulfilling a commercialized ideal. The commodification of holidays has created what sociologist Zygmunt Bauman termed a “consumer society” where individuals are encouraged to define their identities through consumption. In this framework, buying gifts becomes less about the emotional connection between the giver and receiver and more about fulfilling societal expectations.
And it is not just about what we buy. One of the most notable other shifts I have noticed is the pressure to travel during the holiday season. It used to be so simple — you’d visit family, relax a little and just enjoy the season. But now, it feels like you’re expected to book a trip to a dreamy winter spot and it’s almost like the holidays don’t count unless you’re somewhere straight out of a holiday movie.
The problem? Flights, hotels and activities during this period become much more expensive, turning what should be a festive part of the year into a financial burden. As traveling becomes an expected part of the holiday season, many are left feeling like they need to overspend to make it more “magical.”
A deeper reflection on our habits
Extensive resources are needed to produce and transport the things we buy during the holiday season: clothing, electronics, and toys. These items don’t just come at a cost to the environment — they also affect the lives of people living near extraction sites, many of whom face displacement, poor working conditions and loss of access to clean water and land. For example, garment workers are paid poverty wages and face innumerable obstacles including harassment, intimidation and violence. They also face legal hurdles when attempting to voice their demands for justice, wages, adequate safeguards and working conditions.
And then there’s the waste — wrapping paper discarded into landfills, plastic decorations left up for mere weeks and the energy spent on keeping it all bright and shiny. It’s a cycle that generates more than just material goods; it generates an environmental cost that’s hard to ignore. Even in places with robust recycling systems, most commercial wrapping paper and gift bags are not recyclable because they are often coated in plastic or glitter.
Each year, five billion pounds of waste is generated through returns, creating unnecessary waste and driving up emissions, all in the name of regret or convenience.
The story does not end there. In the culture of online shopping, easy returns have also added another layer to the problem. Each return, whether for a wrong size, or a buyer’s remorse, has created an even greater environmental toll. Many of the items we return never make it back to the shelves, instead, they end up in landfills or incinerated. Returns are expensive for sellers because shipping alone often costs more than the items can be resold. It is cheaper to discard than restock. Each year, five billion pounds of waste is generated through returns, creating unnecessary waste and driving up emissions, all in the name of regret or convenience.
For now, Kosovo hasn’t fully stepped into this cycle of constant consumption and easy returns, and maybe that is something to hold onto. This offers us an opportunity to choose a more sustainable approach instead of following patterns that prioritize convenience over the environment.
It also raises an uncomfortable question: as we celebrate the holiday season with gift-giving, are we also moving towards perpetuating systems of exploitation and harm? The joy of receiving a gift should come at a manageable cost to the people who make it. For those involved in the production of the items we buy and retail workers who help us during the season, the holidays are anything but a time of celebration.
Emotionally, the holiday season has become one of the most stressful times. It’s not just the pressure to buy, but the pressure to perform. To buy the perfect gift. To host the perfect dinner. To showcase an enviable lifestyle. All of these expectations leave little room for what matters — spending time with those we love. The essence of the holiday season — the quiet, heartfelt moments that once made the holidays special — has been crowded out by noise.
So maybe this year, we can turn the volume down and listen to the stories again. The stories we share over dinner. The ones that remind us what it truly means to celebrate and be grateful.
Feature image: K2.0.
Want to support our journalism? Become a member of HIVE or consider making a donation. Learn more here.