Mall wonders

When mother and son step into the air-conditioned comfort of the shopping complex on a busy Friday afternoon, Adi is a mite cranky. But, like the old tricks in a magician’s bag, the gleaming white floors and winking shop windows work their charm. Adi gets back his good humour in minutes and scampers off to the gaming console (“his favourite place here”).

Miles away in America, political theorist Benjamin R. Barber, sometimes billed as the “anti-Thomas L. Friedman” for his criticism of the McWorld culture, has an argument to make. In his new book Consumed: How Markets Corrupt Children, Infantilize Adults and Swallow Citizens Whole, Barber says it’s not just childish to give in to consumerism’s logic of “Have money, will buy, need be damned”. It’s dangerous—for childhood and democracy.

In glassy malls where shining India and her children are busy shopping, Barber can’t be heard. India’s middle class has only now begun to give in the culture of invented need. But for the children of liberalisation, there is magic in the mall no doubt. You are bound to run into swarms of tykes at malls every weekend—whining for a video game or a Barbie set, pushing shopping trolleys, helping mom and dad pick packets of biscuits and chocolate drinks or sitting transfixed before flashing screens of gaming consoles. Marketing gurus have promptly manufactured a new segment of childhood—the tweens (eight to 13-year-olds).

Back in the toyshop, Adi is throwing a tantrum for the Power Ranger. Shalini, a veteran of many shopping excursions, is unmoved. Adi has to settle for a red truck instead. It’s not a battle that she always wins.

Ten-year-old Vaasudev Kala would any day choose window-shopping in the air-conditioned comfort of the Sahara mall over trudging through Connaught Place. He is already brand loyal, insisting on Nike shoes and branded trousers. Father Saubhagya understands. “There’s a lot of peer pressure and much more stuff to attract kids. But it’s not as if we give in to his demands all the time,” he says.

For working parents engaged in a daily duel against time, malls can be a convenient solution. “I think Adi is so mall-savvy because in some ways we’ve made him that way. We love the malls and watching movies. And it suits us fine that he gels into our environment,” says Shalini. The malls are also spaces where parental control breaks down. Says Roma Kumar, consultant psychologist at Sir Ganga Ram Hospital, “I have had parents coming to me because they simply cannot deal with their children’s tantrums at shopping complexes.”

Walk into a kids’ store and you will see how it wants a child to grow up. Liliput, a store for children’s apparel, peddles special cards for children little ones with very little tact: “My mom wears designer sarees. I wear Lilliput. My mom has many credit cards, but nothing like my Lilliput silver card,” reads a pamphlet in the shop. Technology and television only propel kids into the market. Vaasudev had an e-mail ID when he was five so that he could be on the mailing list of Cartoon Network and get gifts from the channel.

An economy looking to take flight is banking on the children’s pester power. The India Retail Report, 2007, contends that six out of 10 households in the country have a member born after liberalization, a generation that has grown up or is growing up without compunctions about consumption. For India Inc, they are a market in the making, and they are rushing in to secure loyalty. In October 2006, the Confederation of Indian Industry organized Kidex 2006 to evolve strategies to tap the massive market in children’s goods. Surveys have already begun testing the influence of “tweens” on shopping decisions of the family.

World over, however, you can almost spot a backlash against consumerism, fed by fears of the global warming apocalypse. Last year, a group of 50 teachers, engineers, executives and other professionals in San Francisco got together to make a pact: they wouldn’t buy anything new in 2006—except food, health, safety items and, after a debate, underwear. That was the birth of San Francisco Compact, a movement against clutter, excess and consumerism. The project struck a chord with many Americans, who felt they spend too much, have too much or waste too much, and with people across the globe—chapters have opened in London, Israel and Australia.

Countries have also begun regulating the market’s sway over children. Canada’s food and beverage industry announced last month that 15 of its biggest companies will devote at least half their ads directed to children under 12 to promote healthy food choices. In Chile, children cannot be used to promote unhealthy food products. In India, no such regulations are in place, though parents are wiser to the implications. “It is worrying that the market is looking to make your child the consumer,” says Kala. “But it’s up to the parents to set limits.”

Journalist Madhu Tiwari (name changed), mother of two-and-a-half-year-old Nandan, has another take. “Children don’t need too many toys or things. They can be happy with a car you’ve bought from the nearby shop. It’s our sense of status that makes us spend more or give in to their demands. Their play world is a lot about imagination.”
In the slippery terrain of guilt-laced parenting and urban aspiration, it’s a fact most seem to have forgotten.