The burden of things
Trend analyst Carl Tillessen actually set out to come to terms with his traumas. The result was the bestselling nonfiction book *Consumption: Why We Buy What We Don’t Need*. Anna Kohler meets the thoughtful author at the Einstein coffeehouse in Berlin.

m&k: Carl Tillessen, your first book, *Consumption: Why We Buy What We Don't Need*, became a bestseller. Were you surprised?
Carl Tillessen: Very surprised, yes. I've always enjoyed writing, but professionally speaking, writing didn't play any role at all during the first 25 years of my career. In that sense, I didn't see myself as an author either.
Tell us more. What did you do during the first 25 years of your career?
I actually have a degree in business administration, a degree in art history, and originally wanted to go into the art trade. But then I decided to go into fashion instead. After that, I completed some vocational training in the crafts.
What fashion craft did you learn?
I'm a master tailor. At first, I worked for various designers, and then my partner and I ran our own brand for 17 years. We had six stores of our own, an online shop, and a cosmetics license. We closed the business six years ago.
Why?
That's a complex question. We weren't insolvent with our label «Firma»; we just didn't see any future for it in many respects. In the end, I felt liberated, but it was painful.
How do you spend your time these days, aside from writing?
As a consultant and trend analyst. With a focus on retail. Increasingly under the umbrella of the DMI, the German Fashion Institute. A very misleading name, because, first of all, it’s not just German; second, it’s not just about fashion; and third, it’s not just an institute. It’s actually a trend agency that now operates internationally. And I’m a partner there.
«I think it's important for companies to closely monitor and anticipate changes in consumers» value systems."
Did you write this book to come to terms with the past?
Actually, it was the other way around. I spent ten years doing research without any particular purpose in mind. I did it simply because these are topics that interest and fascinate me—out of personal curiosity. And in part, it was also a way of coming to terms with trauma, because I wanted to understand the structural changes that ultimately led us to give up our brand.

When was the last time you bought something you didn't need?
«Need» is a flexible term. If we know that something brings us great joy, and we also know that we’ll use it, that’s a good reason to buy it.
Have you become immune to the urge to buy?
Not at all. Obviously, my passion is fashion, and that’s where I really lose my head. My heart starts racing, my palms get sweaty, and my throat goes dry—that’s how desirable the treasures on offer seem to me in that moment (laughs).
Do you feel guilty when you give in to this craving?
I've spoiled the fun for myself a bit—that's true. I'd put it this way: I've become stricter with myself. I don't allow myself to make exceptions as often anymore.
Can you give us an example of such exceptions?
If I want to buy an outdoor jacket that I know I’ll wear for years, I’ll buy it from Vaude or Patagonia. My child needs new pants and will outgrow them in no time anyway, so I go to H&M. Or: I eat healthy, but on this eight-hour car ride, I’ll stop at McDonald’s. We allow ourselves these exceptions for all sorts of reasons.
You write that we're all chasing that dopamine rush, so we're addicted to some extent.
Six percent of all people are described as addicted to consumption. But we don’t talk about that. For me, addiction begins when something exerts a pull on us that—not just once, but regularly—is stronger than our good intentions. People like to portray this as a harmless little weakness. But the fact that we do it collectively means it’s no longer a harmless little weakness.
What are the implications of this?
The problems can be summarized into two broad categories: environmental unsustainability and social unsustainability. I am convinced that consumers bear the primary responsibility for environmental unsustainability, but when it comes to social unsustainability, policymakers bear the greatest responsibility.
Is anything happening in politics?
In any case, those who had hoped for voluntary self-regulation by companies have often been disappointed. People had actually thought that events like the Rana Plaza disaster would lead to progress, but since then, there have even been setbacks when it comes to working conditions and wages in manufacturing countries. In that respect, I’m somewhat disillusioned. However, it’s also important to understand that this relatively new combination of economic concentration and globalization is what has enabled companies to dictate working conditions and wages on the other side of the world in the first place. Policymakers have now become aware of this, and they’re responding—step by step.
When things don't happen right under our noses, we tend to look the other way.
This brings us back to the question of corporate responsibility. No CEO says, “I have a great idea—from now on, we’ll use child labor and slave labor; that’ll save us a lot of money.” It’s more a case of collective willful blindness. You place an order—a cosmetics manufacturer buys this glitter powder that comes from mines where child labor is widely used. And then the cosmetics manufacturer says, “I don’t want this to involve child labor.” Then the supplier says, “Okay, but that will cost this much.” In reality, however, that’s not the cost of eliminating child labor—it’s the cost of bribing the official who certifies that the product was manufactured without child labor. That means, of course, you can simply accept this certification—or you can verify it and try to monitor the situation.
«»Need» is a flexible term. If we know that something brings us great joy and we’ll actually use it, that’s a good reason to buy it.”
Is that really possible?
In my view, the claim that it can’t be controlled is just an excuse. Especially when a fashion company can guarantee the quality—that every stitch is perfect, that the care label is exactly twelve centimeters from the hem, and so on. If they can monitor and ensure all of that so meticulously and precisely, then they can also guarantee and ensure that no child labor is involved.

If we, as consumers, base our purchasing decisions on social responsibility, we can really make a difference, can't we?
Yes. People aren’t really aware of this power. Social media has given rise to extremely powerful platforms that can be used for both good and bad. There’s an interesting study by the FAZ Institute on the «fan principle.» From most companies’ perspective, it’s like this: as long as customers are still buying, everything’s fine. But this study shows that there are fans who buy enthusiastically, and then there’s a whole spectrum all the way down to the captive—the mercenary—who buys reluctantly. I believe companies don’t pay enough attention to the fact that enthusiastic customers can turn into reluctant customers—customers who are just waiting to find something else, only to then leave in such a landslide that companies can no longer take countermeasures.
An example?
There’s been a whole series of scandals on Facebook. And this oh-so-friendly social network has suddenly turned into a «scumbag company.» At first, user behavior on Facebook hasn’t changed all that noticeably. But people’s aversion to it is growing, and when alternatives like Instagram suddenly emerge—or other social media platforms become available—there’s a landslide that’s almost impossible to stop.
«Companies don't pay enough attention to the fact that enthusiastic customers can turn into dissatisfied customers.»
What's the deal with this trend toward reducing consumption?
The first step toward more conscious consumption was talking about quality, and now people are talking about the quantity of the things we buy. And here, too, we see that attitude-behavior gap again.
How exactly do you mean?
In 2020, retail sales in Germany were five percent higher than in 2019. That means people bought more things than the year before, even though everyone was talking about how we should buy less. But I’m convinced that this will eventually catch on with the mainstream—albeit with a few years’ delay—and will then also become statistically verifiable. Even traditional fast-fashion retailers like H&M are having to launch concepts like Arket, which are more durable in terms of both design and quality. The paradigm shift is coming.
What are your thoughts on the fashion and advertising industries?
When I was choosing a career, advertising was fantastic. Back then, people would even go to the movies to watch a one-and-a-half-hour compilation of commercials. It was part of our cultural heritage. I’m not just talking about its commercial relevance, but about the prestige and glamour it exuded. Today, advertising is frowned upon, and creators have to find ways not to annoy consumers. In countless conversations, I’ve heard that there are many people like me who long to be proud of their industry again. What I’ve learned isn’t just my profession—it’s also my calling.
How do you live with this knowledge now?
I believe it is more important than ever for companies to closely monitor and anticipate certain developments, such as changes in consumers' value systems. I am happy to advise them and offer my expertise.
How can companies anticipate this?
It’s not about hoping that the skeletons in your closet will remain undiscovered. It’s about saying: Okay, they’re there, they have to go—what do we do now? Better to deal with it now than to wait until they’re discovered and we lose control of the whole situation. That’s an important message.
You open the chapter «Globalization and Consumption» in your book with a quote from the Dalai Lama. As a trend analyst, how do you see the future in this regard?
People never change until it hurts. The bad news is: It's going to hurt. The good news is: Something will change.









Grandpa runs into Lena in the garden. «Good morning, Lena. I’m glad to see you here. You said you wanted to show me your school sometime.» – «Actually, I don’t even go to school,» Lena replies. Grandpa looks at Lena questioningly: «Then please explain to me how you acquire your knowledge? You already know so much.’ – »You see, I just do what the KLC asks me to do. The KLC is an artificial learning coach, an AI.« – »I see,« Grandpa mutters to himself.








Over the past few months, the rules of the game have changed for many companies and industries: stores and restaurants remained closed, people worked from home, and mobility was restricted. This had a direct impact on the marketing of products and services. Target audiences suddenly disappeared or became harder to reach, consumer habits shifted, and media usage patterns changed. Even after the COVID-19 crisis, some of these pandemic-driven developments are likely to persist. For example, a representative survey by the auditing and consulting firm Deloitte found that many people now enjoy working from home. Office workers in Switzerland would like to work from home either part-time (62 percent) or even full-time (26 percent) after the pandemic.



