• by J. Walker Smith , Op-Ed Contributor, 7 hours ago

We want to stop. To quiet the noise in our heads. To resist the urge and fight the impulse. To walk away without regret and longing.

We are in a cultural moment when quieting cravings is the emerging through-line of life.

This is a profound pivot from the past. Craving and indulgence has been our commercial and cultural touchstone for decades. Stoking cravings is at the heart of marketing.

Indulgence and craving became de rigueur with Baby Boomers -- the "me generation" that made narcissism normal and plucked “greed is good” as a generational tagline from Boomer Oliver Stone’s blockbuster eighties movie, "Wall Street."

Or as we put it another way around the same time, “He who dies with the most toys wins.”

Cravings are human nature. But the rationalization and unapologetic celebration of over-indulgence is a contemporary phenomenon.

The 1963 ad copy “betcha can’t eat just one” became a modern maxim.

The 2004 documentary “Super Size Me” struck a chord and filled movie theaters whatever the truth behind the scenes.

The physical appearance of over-indulgence has become fashionable and stigma-free.

Longevity biohacking is fueled by the craving for more years.

The maxxing trend is all about going overboard.

Joey Chestnut is a minor celebrity who makes his living as a popular hot dog-eating champion.

Our cultural and consumer economies have been built around people consuming more and more and more. Marketers zero in on share of stomach and develop strategies to "make the stomach bigger."

The exposé "Salt Sugar Fat" by journalist Michael Moss reads more like a tell-all about late 20th Century food scientists concocting snacks that stir up irresistible cravings.

The one-to-one business buzz of the 90s was a loyalty idea about getting customers to buy more and to transact more often. The amount that consumers go overboard at Halloween and Christmas is closely tracked as a signal of macroeconomic health.

In every domain, we want to build businesses that mirror what legendary investor Warren Buffett said he liked about cigarettes: “It costs a penny to make. Sell it for a dollar. It’s addictive.” In other words, the ultimate craving -- indulgence whatever the consequences.

We even seek respite from indulgence with indulgence. We crave runner’s high. A shopping spree is therapy. We calm ourselves inside houses that are bigger than ever before, and we find both thrill and safety in bigger cars and trucks. We travel more and farther. We enroll our children in more things to do. When we feel overwhelmed, we indulge ourselves with luxurious getaways or with a binge weekend in front of our screens.

The tide is turning, though.

Indulgence still reigns, but increasingly it is attracting negative attention, especially for worsening climate, mental health and overall wellbeing. Our cravings are no longer esteemed to the extent that they were before. Cravings are no longer abided as harmless. We want to stop, which paradoxically has become a craving itself.

The clearest indication of our craving to quiet cravings is the rapid take-up of GLP-1s for weight loss. GLP-1s are a brain drug that calms cravings of all sorts—not just for food but alcohol, drugs and nicotine, too, and maybe even gambling and compulsive shopping. With a pill now available, costs dropping and insurance coverage by Medicare, the rate of adoption is sure to accelerate.

People want relief from the cravings that marketers have long targeted, manipulated and deepened—the very cravings that have long been the fundamental underpinning of growth in consumer demand.

Perhaps this is nowhere in evidence more clearly than in the firestorm of pushback against social media. The consensus belief is that the user interface for social media, with features such as like counts and an infinite scroll, has been designed to trigger micro-bursts of dopamine that make it impossible to look away. Teens are particularly vulnerable, leading to the litigation and settlement that made big headlines recently.

Simplicity and slowing down are trending again. Vogues such as these come and go, but this time around the techniques used to stoke the cravings from which we want relief are being used to promote the cure. Which means more of this anti-craving craving.

Analog activities are resurging amid the advances of AI. People are fearful of digital taking over and quashing human agency. So, we are seeing an upsurge of interest in all things analog—book clubs, festivals, vinyl, farmers’ markets, urban greenways and time at home.

It’s about limits and boundaries to create quiet spaces free from the insatiable exigencies of digital. Digital detox has become a periodic lifestyle necessity.

People want less of more. Which doesn’t fit the business model of demand, setting up a thorny conflict in the marketplace. The responsibility of marketers is unclear. Marketing is about solving people’s problems, but this becomes a Catch-22 when marketing itself is the problem to be solved.

For now, there is plenty of opportunity in selling to the craving to quiet cravings. But the future already in view is going to require a new way of building an economy of demand.