Just about a month ago, at the start of the holiday shopping season, consumers in Japan and other affluent countries were being urged to sit on their wallets for "Buy Nothing Day," the now annual and global act of homage to self-restraint. Get in the habit of buying only what you need, not what you want, campaign organizers advised.
If past years are any guide, the end of the season will stand in marked contrast. On the first business day after New Year's, Japanese stores big and small will break out their "fukubukuro," sealed lucky bags costing from 2,000 yen to 20 million yen each but containing merchandise worth much more. Crowds of shoving shoppers will spend a lot of money on random stuff they probably don't need and possibly don't even want (if they can't see what they're getting, how can they be said to "want" it?) Viewed from a certain angle, lucky bags are to Buy Nothing Day pretty much what Christmas was to the Grinch: a symbol of horrible excess, sheeplike conformity and general foolishness.
But that was before the Grinch had his epiphany, his change of heart. Afterward, Christmas seemed to him a different matter entirely, a symbol of harmony and goodwill that transcended money and all its tasteless manifestations -- the presents, the food, the jingle-bell music, the decorations. Yes, Christmas was garish and overdone, but its core, the Grinch realized, was not just innocent but beneficent. It was all a matter of perspective.