It is the obvious conclusion to make, but over the past few years, many of us who live in open, western societies went mad for... well, just about anything that had a label on it. In Ireland, this period of collective mental illness will always be referred to as the Celtic Tiger era. It's left 35,000 people in arrears on their mortgages and even more people living with negative equity on their homes.
During the boom times, the Irish yen for a bit of land went nuts and as a result, we moved in our droves into tiny battery-hen style apartments, complete with designer bathroom fittings. But it didn't stop there, we wanted the whole celluloid package and with it we hoped to prove that we were just as cosmopolitan and fashionable and successful as anyone in any city anywhere in the world. Paddy was all growed up and ready to party, with champagne and a gambling problem. While the economic festivities lasted, the restaurants were packed out, the bars spilled over and large numbers of previously sane individuals redecorated their chicken coops with the turning of the season.
This malady appears to have affected people, to a certain extent, throughout the developed world. We all went 'stuff' mad. Or did we? Was it all about the haul, or was it about the status and the power?
Much of what people bought during the good times they bought with cheap cash lent to them by the same banks who now wouldn't lend you a halfpenny if you promised them a penny next week for it. Few of the blingest people actually owned much of the wealth that they surrounded themselves with. Many of the less bling but certainly shiny people didn't even own their own living room sofa. It was all a great and glistening make-believe.
Now, from the vantage point of a post-credit crunch world, one has to ask, why did we think that we could fill the deep void inside us with trinkets from IKEA, designer shoes and second homes? Did we honestly believe that our American dreams had come home to roost and that, with our pockets clinking with the keys to over-inflated property, we could then sit back and live happily ever after? And come to think of it, what is happily ever after anyway? Did we expect to achieve a sustainable contentment by sitting back and admiring our shopping? Something tells me that that's one brand of happiness that goes stale very quickly.
My suspicion is that rather than believing that a new Bugatti coffee machine would set us free, we were all engaged in an ill-fated arms race of the keeping up with the Joneses variety. Mr or Ms Jones had the latest 'it' laptop, lipstick, mobile phone, car or job and so we wanted it too, not because we felt that it would change our lives, but to prove that we were doing just as well as they were and that we too were au fait with the latest in Italian marble kitchen tiling.
What happened to us? When did we begin to believe that the only means available to us to demonstrate our worth was through the display of our collective possessions (which very quickly became junk - does anything define the past ten years like the growth of the rented storage space market)? We were peacocks who bought their feathers on credit.
Why did we crave the power and the status of having it all? Why did the good times turn us into despicable people who couldn't recognise our own true value? And why, during a period when we had more than ever, did we settle for so little in terms of the homes that we were willing to purchase? It's beyond me. The only explanation is that the property developers, in collusion with the government, put something in the water.
Thankfully, those crazy days are over. I must admit that a bit of indulgence was great craic while the good times rolled, but I for one have felt an enormous pressure lift since the Joneses stopped eating out three times a week and have decided to content themselves with just the one foreign holiday this year. Everyone is making do with what they have and although this has led to much stress for the many who have less than they require, for some of us, it's a relief to get serious again and not to feel the need to find every 'it' club, or cafe, or lamp before everyone else has chewed it up and spit it out again.
There will always be people who lust for power and who will want to demonstrate to others that they are the main man or woman on the island/continent/planet. However, now that the money's all gone and the rivers of credit have run dry, they'll have to demonstrate their power in more creative ways than overpriced furnishings - perhaps even by being shrewd operators who amass a following due to their business acumen, or wise ways. Either that or the economy will pick up and we'll all be back hating ourselves as we queue for the designer handbags that we believe will change our lives (if only for the flicker of an instant that we show it off to friends and colleagues, while basking in the glow of its astounding price tag).
Let's hope that before the good times roll once more we gain a little more confidence and a new perspective on our value within society - it seems to me that when it comes to the worth of a human individual nothing is relative and we'd do well to remember that whenever the Joneses get a fresh sniff of cash.
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