If one were to google Amazon, then the first articles that would pop up all have a common thread: “Amazon Prime is convenient, but it’s terrible for the environment”, “The Pandemic Has Ended the Amazon Debate”, and “Why is Amazon Bad?” and so on and so forth. Indeed, the multi-billion dollar company has been exposed for various controversies. These include: employees rights and health violations – especially during the pandemic – in their warehouses, a toxic business environment, extremely aggressive business practises that exploit their workers, creating large amounts of waste and how same-day or even two-day shipping has a terrible impact on the environment. While for those who have the means to shop elsewhere, there is undoubtedly a feeling of guilt mixed with hypocrisy when evidence about Amazon’s misdeeds are made abundantly clear. There are now alternatives available to shopping on Amazon, namely by supporting small-businesses or more transparent and sustainable e-commerce businesses. The issue of compromising on these moral issues for the sake of convenience is a cross most of us have to bear. However, there are more complexities to this problem than simply whether one should support Amazon or not. Simply put, framing the question as ‘how’ rather than ‘why’ ignores how certain factors such as financial instability and mailing locations make it so that some cannot afford other alternatives. Sustainability and sustainable practises are more than just a diametric, black-and-white moral dilemma. When we think about sustainability, we need to approach it while considering equitable means and contribution. After all, the concept of a personal carbon footprint was created by BP to individualise the process of consumption and shift focus away from the largest corporate emitters in our society. This article will explore why certain communities like Iqaluit in Nunavut and how socio-economic status (SES) plays a role in the consumer support of Amazon.
The argument about whether one’s support, or lack thereof, is significant enough to make a substantial difference has been hotly debated. However, we will be looking at circumstances in which Amazon is the only means of shopping for some areas and how their conveniences and affordable shipping expenditures may oftentimes be unavoidable. In light of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, e-commerce as a whole has notably increased. Sales spiked nearly 93% at the onset of the pandemic from March to May 2020. For Amazon specifically, overall consumer spending has increased 60% between May and July of 2020 than the previous financial year. Online commerce during the pandemic still remains the safest option given store closures and lack of physical interaction. However it stands diametrically opposed to the sustainability movement due to the uptake of shipping, the exploitative cost of efficiency, and excess waste in packaging. While one can argue that the extraordinary circumstances of the pandemic may justify this kind of consumer behaviour in terms of public and individual safety, the fact of the matter is that some communities such as those in Canadian Arctic territory of Nunavut use Amazon as a vital means of receiving goods in this remote region.
Due to the remoteness of this area, journalist Thomas Rohner discusses why Amazon Prime is one of the only feasible choices for residents in Nunavut to obtain their basic household needs. The large appeal of Amazon is their competitively low rates offered in tandem with fast shipping. For many remote communities in North America, this means the variety of “hard-to-get or expensive products [are] now accessible, and reasonably priced to boot” on Amazon. While Amazon Prime retails around $139 for US citizens, and $79.99 for Canadian citizens, paying this annual fee to get access to year-round shipping for all your household needs seems to be a completely justifiable decision.
Indeed, another dimension to this issue is that convenience is constantly cited as a reason why many people prefer to shop on Amazon. However, many rural communities are often excluded on postage and delivery routes, which means that Amazon offers an option that entraps consumers into their business model due to their ability to provide an extensive array of goods and services across many regions. Yet it begs the question once again, if communities like Iqaluit can only receive goods — at an affordable rate — through air or by sea, then how can their Amazon use be faulted? We should instead be examining and criticising the institutions and structures that make it so that “Nunavut [has] a cost of living among the highest in the country – even while it struggles with some of Canada’s highest rates of poverty”.
Thus, discussions about the sustainability, moral and financial implications of using Amazon are deeply reductive. It must be considered that not everyone can ‘buy’ themselves out of poverty or their geographical location, when they are forced to rely on Amazon as a means of purchasing their daily supplies for living. There is a human cost to Amazon’s convenient business structure, but we often fail to acknowledge the human cost that comes with having to live with the reality of overpriced basic supplies, shipping expenses, remote locations and so forth. Of course this does not negate the fact that if you have the means to, opt out of supporting Amazon. However, a realistic rebuttal by Guardian columnist Arwa Mahdawi summed the sentiment well in that the “personal boycott[s] [are] too little, too late. Unless drastic measures are taken, Amazon is far too big to fail”.
Edited by Olivia Shan
Sokhema Sreang is in her last year at McGill University and she is pursuing a major in International Development and a minor in Sociology. She has joined Catalyst as a staff writer and is particularly interested in the politics of developing countries, social protection and social change.