We've Been Taught How to Consume—Not How to Discern
Updated: Oct 4
Think about how many times in a single day you're asked to consume something.
It starts before you ever walk into a store.
There's an ad between the videos you're watching.
A sale in your inbox.
A product someone swears changed their life.
A show everyone seems to be talking about.
A headline designed to get your attention.
A recommendation based on something you looked at three weeks ago.
A new version of something you already own.
None of this is particularly unusual anymore.
In fact, we're so accustomed to being surrounded by things asking for our attention, money, and interest that we barely notice it happening.
And that doesn't make consumption bad.
We need things.
We buy things.
We replace things that break.
We pay for entertainment.
We discover products that genuinely make our lives easier.
We learn from other people.
We enjoy beautiful things, ridiculous things, useful things, and occasionally something we probably didn't need but are still very happy we bought.
Consumption is part of life.
The problem isn't that we consume.
The problem begins when we stop noticing how much of our consuming happens without much thought at all.
We Know How to Be Consumers
Most of us have had a lot of practice.
We know how to compare prices.
We know how to read reviews.
We know how to search for the "best" version of something.
We know how to look for sales, watch unboxing videos, read recommendations, compare features, follow trends, and see what everyone else seems to be buying.
And we've gotten incredibly good at it.
Technology has made this even easier. If you decide at 10:17 tonight that you need a new coffee maker, you can probably spend the next hour comparing twenty-seven of them without leaving your couch.
You'll find ratings.
Reviews.
Videos.
Recommendations.
Top-ten lists.
Someone telling you which one is absolutely terrible.
Someone else telling you that exact same one is the greatest coffee maker ever created.
And probably an ad reminding you that if you order within the next forty-three minutes, you can save 20%.
By the end of it, you may know more about coffee makers than you ever intended to know.
But there's a question hiding underneath all of that research that we don't ask nearly as often:
Do I actually need a new coffee maker?
We've become very good at answering:
Which one should I choose?
We're not always as practiced at asking:
Should I choose one at all?
That's a very different question.
An Environment Built Around Consumption
We aren't necessarily sitting down and being formally taught how to consume.
We're learning it from the environment around us.
Advertising has always existed in some form.
People have always recommended things to one another.
Businesses have always wanted customers, and there's nothing inherently wrong with that.
What's changed is the sheer amount of access.
Stores don't close when we go home anymore.
Entertainment doesn't end when the television schedule runs out.
News doesn't arrive once in the morning newspaper.
And we don't have to wait until we see a friend to find out what everyone else is doing.
Much of it is sitting in our pockets.
That means opportunities to consume are rarely very far away.
And behind many of those opportunities are systems designed to make participation easy.
One click.
One swipe.
One more episode.
One more video.
One more recommendation.
One more thing added to the cart.
Convenience can be wonderful.
But convenience also removes something we used to encounter much more often:
friction.
There used to be more natural pauses between wanting something and getting it.
You might have had to drive to the store.
Wait until tomorrow.
Look something up.
Ask someone.
Save the money.
Wait for the program to come on.
Sit with a question for a while because the answer wasn't immediately available.
Those pauses didn't automatically make people wiser.
But they did create a little space between wanting and acting.
Today, that space can be incredibly small.
And when there's very little space between impulse and action, it's easy for consumption to become automatic.
We're Not Just Spending Money
This is where the idea of consumption gets more interesting.
Because money isn't the only thing we're spending.
Open social media for five minutes and somehow twenty-five disappear.
Click on one headline and suddenly you're four articles deep.
Watch one video and another starts.
Read one person's opinion and before long you've consumed the reactions, arguments, counterarguments, comments, and somebody's twelve-part explanation of why everyone else is wrong.
Nothing necessarily left your bank account.
But something was still spent.
Your attention was spent. Your time was spent.
Maybe some of your energy was spent too.
And just like money, those things are limited.
We tend to notice financial spending because we can see it.
There's a receipt.
A transaction.
A number on a statement.
Attention doesn't send you a receipt.
Neither does time.
You don't receive a notification at the end of the week saying:
You spent seven hours consuming things you didn't particularly care about.
It simply disappears into whatever we gave it to.
That's why consumption is bigger than what we buy.
We consume entertainment.
We consume information.
We consume opinions.
We consume advice.
We consume trends.
We consume other people's ideas.
We consume images of how other people live, what they own, what they believe, what they value, and what they think we should value too.
And unlike the coffee maker sitting on the counter, those things don't simply enter our homes.
Some of them enter our thinking.
Consumption Doesn't End When We're Finished Consuming
This is where mindless consumption becomes worth paying attention to.
What we repeatedly expose ourselves to can influence what starts to feel normal, desirable, important, successful, or even true.
That doesn't mean seeing an advertisement instantly changes what you believe.
It doesn't mean watching someone's life online automatically makes you want their life.
And it certainly doesn't mean we're powerless against everything trying to influence us.
Human beings are more complicated than that.
But influence is real.
If we're repeatedly shown a certain version of success, eventually we may start comparing ourselves against it.
If we're constantly exposed to what everyone else owns, we may start noticing what we don't.
If we repeatedly consume the same kinds of opinions, they can begin to feel more familiar—and familiarity can sometimes be mistaken for truth.
If we're surrounded by messages telling us what we should want, it can become surprisingly difficult to separate:
What do I actually want?
from
What have I been taught to want?
Sometimes what we're being sold isn't really the thing at all.
It's what the thing supposedly says about us.
The right clothes can make us look successful.
The right home can make us look like we've made it.
The right products can make us feel like better parents, healthier people, more creative people, more interesting people, or people who somehow have life figured out.
Products can become symbols of identity.
And that isn't always a bad thing either.
The things we choose often do express something about us.
Personal style, hobbies, interests, traditions, and even the ridiculous mug we insist is our mug can become little reflections of who we are.
The question is whether we're expressing an identity we've chosen—or purchasing our way toward an identity someone else handed us.
Because there is a difference between:This reflects who I am. and I need this to prove who I am.
Consumer culture doesn't only give us things to want. Sometimes it gives us pictures of the person we're supposedly meant to become.
Discernment helps us ask whether we ever wanted to become that person in the first place.
That's where this stops being a conversation only about consumerism.
Because once we're talking about deciding what deserves our money, our attention, our time, and our trust, we need something more than the ability to consume.
We need the ability to evaluate.
This is where discernment enters the conversation.
And if you're wondering just how much difference one skill can make, get curious about Discernment: The Skill That Quietly Changes Your Entire Life. It explores how learning to pause, question, and evaluate can begin changing everything from the information you trust to the choices you make.
More Choices Don't Automatically Create Better Judgment
We have access to more information than almost any generation before us.
If you're thinking about buying something, you can compare dozens of options in minutes.
If you hear something you aren't sure about, you can search for an answer before the conversation is over.
If you want advice, there are thousands of people willing to give it.
That's an incredible advantage.
But having access to more choices doesn't automatically make us better at choosing.
Sometimes it simply gives us more things to sort through.
Think back to that coffee maker.
You can compare twenty-seven models.
You can narrow them down by price, features, ratings, color, size, brand, and how many different ways they can produce something containing caffeine.
But all of those tools are helping you answer a question you've already accepted:
Which coffee maker should I buy?
Discernment allows another possibility into the room:
Maybe none of them.
Not because buying one is bad.
Maybe your current one works perfectly well.
Maybe you don't actually care about the new features.
Maybe you wanted one because you saw it repeatedly.
Maybe you absolutely do need one—and after thinking about it, you're perfectly happy to buy it.
The answer isn't the point.
Recognizing that there are answers beyond the options placed in front of you is.
Sometimes the right answer is A.
Sometimes it's B.
Sometimes it's neither.
Sometimes it's not yet.
Sometimes it's I don't know enough.
And sometimes it's this doesn't deserve any more of my attention.
Discernment gives us permission to consider all of them.
Influence Isn't the Same as Instruction
We're influenced by the world around us constantly.
That's not a character flaw. It's part of being human.
We ask friends what they think.
We read reviews because other people's experiences can help us avoid a terrible purchase.
We notice what's popular.
We listen to people with more experience.
We pay attention when thousands of people seem to agree about something.
Those things can be useful.
The problem comes when influence quietly becomes instruction.
Everyone loves it, so it must be good.
That person said it, so it must be true.
Everyone is buying it, so maybe I need it too.
This has thousands of likes, so it must be important.
Everyone seems to be doing this, so maybe I'm falling behind.
Popularity can tell us that something has captured people's attention.
It cannot always tell us whether it deserves ours.
A five-star review can be useful information.
So can the recommendation of someone you trust.
An expert's opinion can carry considerably more weight than someone's random guess.
But none of those things completely removes our responsibility to think.
We can take information seriously without automatically accepting it.
We can listen to someone we respect and still ask questions.
We can enjoy what's popular without assuming popularity equals value.
We can even disagree with someone without deciding they have nothing worthwhile to say.
That's part of discernment too.
It isn't automatically distrusting everything.
It's refusing to automatically trust everything.
The Attention Economy Changed What It Means to Be a Consumer
There was a time when calling someone a "consumer" usually meant they purchased goods or services.
That definition feels increasingly incomplete.
Today, your attention itself has value.
Entire businesses compete for it.
Creators compete for it.
News organizations compete for it.
Entertainment platforms compete for it.
Advertisers compete for it.
And because there are only twenty-four hours in your day, anything that receives some of your attention is receiving something that cannot simultaneously be given somewhere else.
That doesn't mean every minute needs to be productive.
Far from it.
Watching a show because you enjoy it isn't wasted attention.
Spending an hour looking at funny videos because you needed to laugh isn't some failure of personal development.
Rest, entertainment, curiosity, pleasure, and doing absolutely nothing useful all have places in a life.
The question isn't:
Was I productive?
It's closer to:
Did I decide where this went?
Because there is a difference between choosing to spend an hour watching something you enjoy and looking up an hour later wondering how you're still scrolling through things you don't even particularly care about.
One was consumption you chose.
The other simply captured you.
Give What You Spend a Job
There's a financial idea that says money should have a job.
Instead of allowing money to disappear and wondering afterward where it went, you decide what you want it to do.
Some pays the mortgage.
Some buys groceries.
Some goes toward savings.
Some pays for fun.
Some might be deliberately set aside to buy something completely unnecessary simply because you want it.
The point isn't that every dollar has to accomplish something impressive.
The point is that you decided where it belonged.
What if we thought about some of our other resources the same way?
Your attention can have a job.
Your time can have a job.
Your energy can have a job.
Even your creative capacity can have a job.
Sometimes that means consuming inspiration, and sometimes it means putting the inspiration down long enough to make something ourselves. A thought we explore more deeply in Making Something Is Good for the Soul—because eventually, inspiration needs somewhere to go.
That doesn't require scheduling every moment or turning your life into an optimization project.
It simply means becoming more aware of where those resources are going.
Because if you don't decide where your attention goes, there are plenty of things willing to decide for you.
Sometimes We Need Enough Quiet to Know What We Think
There is another consequence of having something available to consume almost every moment:
We rarely have to be bored anymore.
Waiting in line?
Phone.
Commercial break?
Phone.
Five minutes before an appointment?
Phone.
Can't fall asleep immediately?
Maybe one quick scroll.
We can fill nearly every small pocket of emptiness with input.
And sometimes that's perfectly fine.
But boredom serves a purpose too.
There are moments when our minds need room to wander, process, connect ideas, replay conversations, imagine possibilities, or simply catch up with everything we've already taken in.
If we're constantly consuming someone else's thoughts, eventually it becomes harder to hear our own.
That's especially important when we're trying to decide what we want.
You can't always discover that by consuming another person's answer.
Sometimes you need enough quiet to notice your own.
That doesn't mean retreating from the world or rejecting other people's perspectives.
It means leaving enough room inside all that input for your own judgment to participate.
Information Is Something We Consume Too
This becomes even more important when what we're consuming isn't a product.
It's information.
The internet has given us access to extraordinary amounts of knowledge.
It has also given us extraordinary amounts of nonsense.
Accurate information can sit right beside misinformation.
Expertise beside confidence.
Evidence beside opinion.
A carefully researched explanation beside something someone made up twelve minutes ago.
And sometimes they look remarkably similar on a screen.
Consuming more information therefore doesn't automatically mean we're becoming better informed.
We still have to evaluate it.
Where did this come from?
What supports it?
Is something being presented as fact when it's actually an opinion?
Could important context be missing?
Does another credible source support it?
And perhaps one of the hardest questions:
Do I believe this because the evidence supports it—or because I already wanted it to be true?
That question applies to all of us.
Discernment isn't something we use only to protect ourselves from other people's bad judgment.
We need it for our own judgment too.
We can misunderstand.
We can have biases.
We can become attached to an idea.
We can mistake familiarity for accuracy.
We can be wrong.
That's why taking information with a grain of salt doesn't mean wandering through life assuming
everyone is lying to you.
It means remaining willing to examine what you're being given—including the things you're most tempted to accept immediately.
The Question Begins to Change
Consumerism gives us an enormous number of choices.
Discernment helps us decide what those choices are worth.
That's the shift.
Instead of only asking:
What do I want?
We can also ask:
Why do I want it?
Instead of only asking:
Which one should I choose?
We can ask:
Do any of these deserve to be chosen?
Instead of:
What is everyone saying?
We can ask:
What actually supports what they're saying?
Instead of:
What can I consume next?
We begin asking:
What deserves what I have to spend?
Because money isn't the only thing we can spend carelessly.
So can attention.
Time.
Energy.
Trust.
And when we start deciding where those things deserve to go instead of simply allowing them to be captured, we're no longer only learning how to be better consumers.
We're beginning to practice discernment.
Discernment Creates a Pause
One of the simplest things discernment gives us is space.
Space between seeing something and wanting it.
Between hearing something and believing it.
Between being offered something and accepting it.
Between everyone else choosing something and deciding that we should choose it too.
That pause doesn't have to be dramatic. We don't need to conduct an investigation every time we buy toothpaste or spend twenty minutes watching videos.
Not every decision deserves that much attention.
But some decisions deserve more than we're giving them.
Especially when they repeatedly cost us money, time, attention, energy, or trust.
Discernment creates enough space to ask:
Is this worth what I'm about to give it?
Sometimes the answer will be an enthusiastic yes.
Sometimes it will be no.
Sometimes we'll need more information.
And sometimes we'll realize we don't actually know what we want yet.
That's okay too.
The goal isn't to always make the perfect choice.
It's to participate in the choice.
You Can Outgrow What Once Served You
Discernment doesn't end once we've decided something belongs in our lives.
We change.
Our circumstances change.
Our priorities change.
We learn things we didn't know before.
Something that once deserved our money, attention, or time may eventually stop deserving it.
That doesn't necessarily mean the original decision was wrong.
Maybe that podcast taught you exactly what you needed during one season of your life.
Maybe a routine helped you through a difficult period.
Maybe you once loved following a particular creator.
Maybe a subscription genuinely made your life easier.
Maybe an idea you once believed made sense based on what you knew at the time.
Then something changed.
We sometimes keep consuming things simply because we've consumed them for a long time.
We keep the subscription.
Keep following.
Keep watching.
Keep buying.
Keep believing.
Keep giving something access to us because it already has access to us.
Discernment allows us to revisit the decision.
Does this still belong here?
We're allowed to update our choices when we have new information.
We're allowed to outgrow things.
We're allowed to change our minds.
We're allowed to decide that something useful in one chapter doesn't need to follow us into the next.
Sometimes realizing we've outgrown something leaves us wondering what should come next. If
you're ready to take a closer look at where you are and where you'd like to go, the 7-Day Reset offers a free place to begin. And if you're looking for a deeper reset, Fresh Start: 30-Day Reset gives you more room to reflect, reset, and intentionally decide what you want to carry forward.
What We Consume Can Shape What We Want
There's another reason this matters.
Consumption doesn't always end when the transaction or experience does.
Repeated exposure can influence what starts to feel normal.
Think about something as ordinary as a home.
You can be perfectly content with your living room until you spend enough time looking at beautifully styled rooms online.
Suddenly your couch looks a little tired.
Your walls seem too plain.
That table you've never thought twice about somehow looks wrong.
Nothing in your room changed.
Your reference point did.
That doesn't mean decorating content is bad.
Maybe it inspires you to make your home feel more like you.
Maybe you discover an idea you genuinely love.
But it's worth noticing when inspiration quietly turns into dissatisfaction.
The same thing can happen with careers.
Bodies.
Relationships.
Possessions.
Success.
Parenting.
Travel.
Food.
Productivity.
Even happiness.
What we repeatedly consume can give us reference points for what life is supposed to look like.
Those reference points can easily become measuring sticks—and Why Comparison Kills Creativity explores what can happen when we start measuring our own ideas and progress against what we see others doing.
And if we never examine those reference points, we can find ourselves chasing a version of life we never consciously decided we wanted.
That's why one of the more revealing questions we can ask ourselves is:
Is this something I actually want—or something I've been taught to want?
The answer won't always be obvious.
The asking still matters.
Discernment Isn't Deprivation
There is a trap we should avoid here.
Once we start paying attention to consumption, it's easy to swing too far in the other direction.
Don't buy anything unnecessary.
Don't waste time.
Don't watch mindless television.
Don't scroll.
Don't spend money on frivolous things.
Don't consume unless you can somehow prove it improved you.
That isn't discernment.
That's another set of rules telling you what you're supposed to do.
Sometimes the thing that deserves your money is the ridiculous coffee mug that makes you smile every morning.
Sometimes the thing that deserves your attention is a terrible movie you and someone you love laugh through together.
Sometimes you spend an afternoon doing something that accomplishes absolutely nothing—and it was exactly what you needed.
Not everything has to make you smarter, richer, healthier, more productive, or more impressive.
Joy has value.
Rest has value.
Curiosity has value.
Beauty has value.
Play has value.
Discernment isn't about removing those things.
It's about choosing rather than operating on autopilot.
No One Else Can Do All of This for Us
There is responsibility on both sides of consumption.
Companies should market responsibly.
Platforms should consider how their systems affect the people using them.
Creators should care about the information they share.
People with influence should recognize that influence carries responsibility.
But even in a perfect world, we would still need discernment.
Because no company knows exactly what belongs in your life.
No algorithm knows everything you value.
No reviewer knows your circumstances.
No influencer knows who you're trying to become.
No expert can make every decision for you.
And no amount of external responsibility can completely replace our own.
That's not always comfortable.
It would sometimes be easier if someone could simply tell us:
Buy this.
Believe this.
Follow this.
Do this.
This is the right answer.
But discernment asks us to participate.
Listen.
Consider.
Question.
Verify when necessary.
Notice our own biases.
Consider the source.
Think about what something costs beyond its price tag.
And then make the best decision we can with what we know.
Sometimes we'll still get it wrong.
We'll buy something we regret.
We'll trust information that turns out to be inaccurate.
We'll follow a recommendation that wasn't right for us.
We'll spend time on something that wasn't worth it.
Discernment doesn't eliminate mistakes.
It makes us more active participants in the choices we're making.
The goal isn't to somehow become immune to influence or perfectly evaluate everything that crosses our path.
It's to make more of our choices our own.
Discernment isn't certainty.
It's thoughtful judgment.
What Deserves Access to You?
Maybe this is the question underneath all of it.
We're surrounded by things asking for access.
Access to our wallets.
Our screens.
Our homes.
Our attention.
Our time.
Our trust.
Our thoughts.
Some of those things deserve it.
Some will make our lives easier.
Some will teach us something.
Some will challenge us.
Some will entertain us.
Some will bring us enormous joy.
Some may even help change our lives.
Others won't.
The challenge is that they don't arrive conveniently labeled for us.
Worth your attention.
Not worth your money.
Useful information.
Beautiful but unnecessary—and you will love it anyway.
Sounds convincing but isn't true.
Popular but not right for you.
We have to make those distinctions ourselves.
That's what discernment helps us do.
We've Learned to Consume. Now We Need to Learn to Discern.
We're probably never going back to a world with fewer things competing for us.
There will always be another product.
Another recommendation.
Another notification.
Another opinion.
Another headline.
Another trend.
Another person telling us what we need, what we should believe, or what we're supposedly missing.
The answer isn't to shut everything out.
There is too much wonderful stuff in the world for that.
The answer is to become better at deciding what we let in.
Modern life has made us extraordinarily capable of finding, accessing, and consuming almost anything.
But access isn't judgment.
Choice isn't judgment.
Popularity isn't judgment.
Information isn't judgment.
For that, we need discernment.
Because our resources are finite. Our money, attention, time, energy, and trust can only go so many places.
And taken together, where we choose to spend them becomes part of the life we're building.
Your higher self doesn't need you to consume perfectly.
They don't need you to make the optimal choice every time.
They need you to participate in the choice.
We've spent a lifetime learning how to consume.
Maybe it's time we became equally interested in learning how to discern.
Fox's Take
The world is very good at giving us options.
It can show us what to buy, what to watch, what to read, who to follow, what everyone else thinks, and what we're supposedly missing.
But having more options doesn't necessarily teach us how to judge them.
That's still our job.
So buy the thing if you truly want it.
Watch the ridiculous movie.
Listen to the recommendation.
Read the article.
Follow the person who inspires you.
Change your mind when something no longer fits.
Enjoy what deserves to be enjoyed.
Just remember that your money, attention, time, energy, and trust are yours to spend.
Did you decide where they went—or did something else decide for you?
Maybe that's where discernment begins.
Sources & Further Reading
If you'd like to explore the research behind consumer behavior, attention, choice, influence, and how the information and environments around us can shape what we value, these are excellent places to begin:
Iyengar, S. S., & Lepper, M. R. When Choice Is Demotivating: Can One Desire Too Much of a Good Thing? Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 2000. A foundational study exploring how having more choices can sometimes make decisions more difficult rather than more satisfying.
Schwartz, B. The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less. Ecco, 2004. An accessible exploration of how an abundance of options can affect decision-making, satisfaction, and our ability to choose.
Kahneman, D. Thinking, Fast and Slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011. An examination of intuitive and deliberate thinking, cognitive biases, judgment, and the mental shortcuts that influence everyday decisions.
Wu, T. The Attention Merchants: The Epic Scramble to Get Inside Our Heads. Knopf, 2016. A history and examination of the industries, technologies, and business models built around capturing and selling human attention.
American Psychological Association. Consumer Psychology. Research and resources examining how thoughts, emotions, social influences, advertising, and environments affect consumer choices and behavior.
Pennycook, G., & Rand, D. G. Lazy, Not Biased: Susceptibility to Partisan Fake News Is Better Explained by Lack of Reasoning Than by Motivated Reasoning. Cognition, 2019. Research exploring how analytical thinking relates to people's ability to distinguish false from accurate information.
UNESCO. Media and Information Literacy. Resources focused on critically accessing, evaluating, understanding, and using information in an increasingly complex media environment.
Tell me what you think.
Did this article make you look at consumption or discernment a little differently? If something resonated with you, give it a like or tell me what stood out in the comments below. Your thoughts are always welcome here.
This article is for educational and inspirational purposes and is designed to support personal growth and intentional living. It is not a substitute for professional medical, mental health, legal, or financial advice.
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