Happy Valentine’s Day! I just finished reading an interesting
Atlantic article,
“Have You Ever
Tried To Sell A Diamond?”
Until the late nineteenth century, diamonds were found only in a few riverbeds
in India and in the jungles of Brazil, and the entire world production of gem
diamonds amounted to a few pounds a year. In 1870, however, huge diamond mines
were discovered near the Orange River, in South Africa, where diamonds were soon
being scooped out by the ton. Suddenly, the market was deluged with diamonds. The
British financiers who had organized the South African mines quickly realized that
their investment was endangered; diamonds had little intrinsic value — and their
price depended almost entirely on their scarcity.
And thus, the DeBeers cartel was formed. DeBeers completely
controls the world’s diamond supply, maintaining artificial scarcity and
artificially high prices. Those who defy the cartel (like
Zaire in 1981)
suffer the consequences.
But who cares? Diamonds are a luxury item. No one forces you to buy them… right?
Nope. Every American man is expected to spend, at a minimum, two months
salary on a diamond engagement ring. Two months salary (before taxes?) on a
pretty rock that should be about as valuable as jade or amber. And why,
pray tell?
Because DeBeers says you should. The culture of buying staggeringly expensive
diamond jewelry to cement your engagement did not exist until sixty years
ago. But in 1938, DeBeers created
the “Diamonds are Forever” marketing campaign, and the rest is history.
In twenty years, the American psyche was transformed. At the end of the 1950s
DeBeers was able to crow,
“Since 1939 an entirely new generation of young people has grown to marriageable age.
To this new generation a diamond ring is considered a necessity to
engagements by virtually everyone.”
Not that any of this is news. The Atlantic article I cited dates back to 1982.
Economics and marketing professors have used the DeBeers cartel as a
case
study for years. It’s a fascinating issue, from an academic perspective.
Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding the result — you can’t get married in this
country without giving your sweetie the biggest, bestest rock you can afford.
End of story. Even questioning the idea makes me sound cheap, doesn’t it?
That’s how ingrained the whole thing is.
Listen, I’ve got no problem dishing out the cash… if that’s what it takes to prove
my undying devotion, so be it. I just resent that a ruthless cartel is forcing me
to spend money on a near-worthless object. (And let’s not
forget that these days, there is no way to know if you are buying a
“conflict diamond“, which
is the sanitized way of saying “thugocracy diamond” or “rape-and-murder diamond”.)
All I’m saying is, why not spend the money on something positive? For example:
“Darling, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. And to cement
our relationship, please do me the honor of allowing me to pay back the next two
years of your med school loans.”
Or how about:
“Darling, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. And to cement
our relationship, I want to give you a really special gift.
Let’s go get your teeth straightened, like you’ve always wanted!”
Who knew I was such an
incurable romantic?