When I scroll through the 4,000-plus published articles — more than, for instance, articles on terrorism, upcoming congressional elections and global activism — on the latest iPhone incident, it becomes apparent that more than homeland threats, governmental fate and human rights, there is a pervading sense of self, of want; a “mine” mentality that eclipses the external world.

It’s comical how our society has made possession a fetish. We idolize not the electronics, clothes or other objects that satisfy this continual self-gratification, but simply the satisfaction of continual self-gratification. This debacle about the iPhone, this vehemence as if consumers had been so deeply offended by the simple flaw of a single product, in actuality has nothing to do with Apple Inc, or the iPhone, or any product for that matter.

Our society of “must haves,” easy money and instant fixes for our addiction to things we believe define us; this world of entitlement, ownership, narcissism makes us angry because we chose to embody our needs in a tangible, purchasable object. We deified a product in our minds — and yes, this is in large part due to companies like Apple — but only through the edifice of a social culture that emphasizes materialism; a culture we created.

And because we constructed expectations for our appeasement, ignited by capital marketing and perpetuated by the social castes of “haves” and “have-nots,” our world was decimated when the single object of our veneration — the next-best-thing that would give us that ultimate high of ultimate egoism — failed. We were left unsatisfied, broken, as if suddenly the consumerism drug turned to sand in our hands. Like junkies in withdrawal, we blamed not the real perpetrators (us), we blamed the dealers. The companies we gave control to, that thrive by satisfying our self-gratification with ever more things which we then incorporate as the idealization of life.

We are lulled into a sense of certainty in that if we can just have something, find the means to own or obtain, then we will be satisfied. It has become the mantra of our age: “to be is to have.” Pop-media reinforces this ideal through songs such as Travis McCoy’s “Billionaire.” Or, if we want a glimpse at how self-obsessed we are, we can turn on VH1 and watch an episode of “You’re Cut Off!” Even the fact that television series such as MTV’s “The Hills” or “The City” exists is a testament to this maxim.

Ironic how perfectly self-perpetuating this process is: We externalize ourselves by obtaining the objects we use as a justification for social existence. Then, the same companies on whom we rely so heavily for our definition further exploit us by either idolizing this addiction (“The Hills”), or showing how destructive, menial and ultimately unsatisfying our addiction is (“You’re Cut Off!”). The former acts as positive reinforcement for the notion that “having” is desirable or necessary; the latter is a polarization because, like the addicts we are, we deny we are like them and therefore epitomize our behavior as different and thus acceptable.

Our continued preoccupation with acquiring items and things, delineating who and what we are based on what we have, will only serve to differentiate and partition the social culture. Eventually there will be no society; we will degrade into a collection of hopeless aficionados of narcissism griping for useless objects to fill voids which we only believe exist, but truly do not.

Nicholas Earl is a State News guest columnist. Reach him at earlnich@msu.edu.