Your Romance Is Up For Sale

Ashoka Behavioural Insights Team
The Nudgelet
Published in
6 min readFeb 14, 2022

By Rishita Chaudhary (UG 23), Edited by Adithya Rajan (UG 23)

Image Source : money-buying-love-happiness-heart-shape-symbol-vector-10163809.jpg

Cuddling teddy bears, bouquet of roses, glasses of champagne. Loud proclamations of “SALE!” and sappy pick-up lines charge my eyes as I scroll through my Instagram feed.

Ah, yes.

So begins the spectacle of Valentine’s Day, a day that originated from the Roman festival of Lupercalia, where bachelors coupled with single women randomly picked from a matchmaking jar for the duration of the festival.

From ordinary advertisements to popular fiction, romantic love has long been made out to be the source of fantasies denoting the highest form of bliss. Novels, films, and shows are all guilty of making happily-ever-after scenarios contingent on characters tying the knot, or, at the very least, finding themselves in the throes of a passionate, reciprocal relationship.

Love is often portrayed as spontaneous, irrational and giving — a far cry from the cold, rational and utility-maximizing considerations of the market. Despite popular notions, modern-day romance operates in and around the world of commerce, commodities and consumer culture. Sociologist Eva Illouz, in her book Consuming the Romantic Utopia, unpacks how romance is shaped, steered and sustained by the larger forces of economy and culture. From greeting cards to wine and every other romantic cliche you can think of, society’s collective imagination of love is formed through the intentional meddling of mass media. The common perception now asserts that happiness can only be derived from material goods, i.e. gifts. Sounds terribly charming, doesn’t it?

Advertisers play a large role in this mentality. Long gone are the days where flashy ads explicitly tell you that sharing a chocolate with your crush would buy you their love; instead, the chocolate now appears as just one of many elements in an intimate scene where couples hold each other and lavish eachother with affection. This intimacy intensifies as they begin the act of consumption (in this case when the chocolate is unwrapped), where it is then merged with emotions and sensations. By making the viewers voyeurs in such an intimate scene, where the consumption of the advertised product is made to appear natural, advertisers persuade the viewers that the romance between the couple hinges on them performing these rituals of consumption. Erotic desire is projected onto consumer products until viewers too begin to associate them with shades of seduction, abundance, freedom and happiness.

Image Source: Photo by Budgeron Bach from Pexels

Raymond William, a scholar in cultural studies, noted, advertising doesn’t make culture “materialistic”; rather, it elevates material goods to quasi-spiritual levels. Popular narratives push you to forget the hassles of work and the drudgeries of domesticity while kindling the romantic spark, portraying romance as an escape from the hardships of life. Think of it as a Karl Marx opium-induced fever dream. “It (romance) has taken on the appearance of ritual, in which the dimensions of everyday existence are overcome and transgressed, if only temporarily. By enacting this ritual, we seek to experience abundance and joy. Yet these rituals of romance are also rituals of consumption.” claims Illouz. Her claim is definitely not wrong — think of romantic activities with your partner: dining out, traveling to new destinations, swapping gifts, all while clad in fancy clothes and cosmetics.

Photo by Elina Sazonova from Pexels

Phenomena like Valentine’s Day are further proof of this concept. Or should I say Valentine’s Week — yes, these days celebrations often begin a whole week earlier. February 7th is titled Rose Day. This is followed by proposal day, chocolate day, teddy day and so on. But why? Wasn’t Valentine’s Day supposed to be a single day — the singular February 14th, enshrined in the calendars of all those in love?

Late-stage capitalism begs to differ here. Why not commodify love a little longer if huge profits can be made? But wait, what exactly is commodification and how does it work? In simple terms, commodification refers to the process of turning an item into something that can be bought or sold. For instance, when water is bottled up and sold, something that is widely available in nature is converted into a commodity which can be exchanged in the market. Similarly, businesses convince consumers that true romance is spending money on your partner — if they are ready to dish out money on a gift, they can make their partners fall head over heels for them all over again.

Under the guise of celebration, these narratives create an obligation to consume; all while this consumption is documented on social media in a bid to display the perfect love. This aggravates pressures to conform and reinforce this toxic loop which drains not only you, but your wallet as well.

As I close the Instagram app, I wonder whether affection has to come packaged in a rose or a necklace to be considered evidence of one’s devotion. Don’t these instances reduce love to a mere transaction? And are we as a society comfortable with this?

While there is no escaping late-stage capitalism, here are a few tips from psychologists’ guide to gift-giving you can practise this Valentine’s Day.

1. Communicate

Have an honest conversation with your partner. Does your love necessitate yet another festival that occasions gift-giving?

2. Consider buying time.

College students are increasingly overworked and struggle to find work-life balance. Help unload the burden. That email they’ve been dreading to write for days? Offer to do it for them. Noticed the pile of unwashed clothes strewn across the room? Offer to help out with laundry. So often we think of gifts as an addition to someone’s life we forget that it can also be something that subtracts misery.

3. Co-experience moments

Choose gifts that can be co-experienced together. Wide ranging literature shows that a) experiences lead to greater welfare than material things, and b) sharing those experiences with others is inherently better than doing them alone. So don’t just buy a book — plan to read it together.

4. Do the hard thing

Lastly, realize that love responds to frequency rather than intensity. Studies show that happiness levels depend on how often you experience positive events, rather than how magically intense each event actually is. Don’t bank on a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day (or birthdays/anniversaries) to make-up for a lack of effort throughout the year. True romance requires consistency. Try your hand at leaving cute written notes for your partner to find, or surprise them by showing up early!

Still reluctant? We don’t blame you. Divorcing consumption and romance in the modern world is tough, almost impossible and sometimes not even necessary. What is more important is that you’re cognizant of tactics deployed by brands in pushing you to spend. By being mindful of yours and your partner’s needs and looking past these marketing gimmicks, you might just be able to regain agency in your spending habits. If you do decide to go ahead and make a purchase, do deliberate over brands and their ethical practices. Skip fast fashion and other companies found exploiting their workers and/or the environment. If you’re aiming for optics, chocolates produced out of child labour or lingerie borne out of wage theft are definitely not a good look.

While you might turn a blind eye to red flags in your relationship, you don’t have to do the same with your gifts.

Happy loving.

Rishita Chaudhary is a second-year political science major who enjoys unearthing socio-political undertones in art, digital spaces and consumer culture.

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Ashoka Behavioural Insights Team
The Nudgelet

Sparking a conversation on Behavioural Science at Ashoka University