by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

Now that 'tis the season to be blowing your cash, the Flintstone shoulder-angel descends on many shoulders burdened with neurotic inclinations otherwise known as a conscience.

The guilt factor can be a major psychological obstacle when whipping out that MasterCard. Now that just about every item on every store shelf is assembled mysteriously behind the walls of distant factories in exotic lands, it becomes more difficult than ever to know what sort of labour conditions our dollars are supporting.

We're smack dab in the middle of the age of information, and yet there's little way of knowing if any given consumer product we toss in our cart isn't supporting inhumane cruelty.

For all we know, the assembly line workers who make these doodads in those far-off places are tiny children kidnapped at knifepoint from their villages and chained to machines and fed every 12 hours until they perish from exhaustion.

There's a whole secret unsavoury world of cruelty behind every consumer product that I'm not sure we should even probe. Oblivion to the dark side of your purchase is probably the safest strategy to enjoy it. When you commit yourself to considering the moral consequences of every nickel you spend, it could suck the joy right out of that bargain that you snapped up.

For example, it might totally bum out your buzz if you knew that your friendly dealer mercilessly pistol-whipped a competitor to gain the privilege of selling you the pot in your area.

Coffee, running shoes, clothing and automobiles are the purchases most often scrutinized by those wishing to spend ethically. But once you become a conscientious consumer, you're taking on a huge, possibly unworkable task.

When you're in aisle six pondering bottles of mustard, how are you supposed to weigh whether the Grey Poupon bosses are nicer or meaner than the French's mustard overlords? To make any purchase, you've got to compute and analyze massive reams of trivial interactions to weigh the cruelty - both perceived and intended - that went into its creation. Did the assembly-workers get a raise last year? Is one bottle more environmentally friendly? The label tells you nothing.

Then there's the massive issue of whether boycotting products made under inhumane conditions adds to the poverty in that place. It's an issue way too complex to ponder in such a short paragraph as this.

Plus, when it comes to ethical spending, how many generations of spending are we responsible for? If you give your money to a saintly shopkeeper who then spends it at a place that uses it to build a date rape drug lab, are you still indirectly responsible for the nastiness?

And even if you spend more on a certifiably ethical product, could you be accused of being morally abusive to your dependants or charities that would otherwise have received the extra money you blew on being morally superior? And is it even ethical to consistently deprive oneself the occasional episode of consumer gratification?

I'm not even sure that it's ethical to become a conscientious consumer if it means you'll be punishing others by droning on condescendingly about your moral superiority and holier-than-thou ethical consumerist crusades.

I know, I know. Just typing these questions out is giving me a head-pounding headache too.

This is one instance when being poor is better. Boycotting the diamond industry, SUVs and Nikes is a no-brainer when you have $16.04 in your bank account.

Perhaps we should look to our government as the moral beacon to light up these foggy questions of personal economic morality. Unfortunately taxes are probably the hardest place to boycott. Even if you have major objections to the way they spend your tax dollars, you're not offered the choice of boycotting.

My own personal irritation of the week is that Quebec funds private schools more generously than other provinces, thereby using public money to perpetuate the dominance of the elite over the poor. I'd like to not be spending my money to support rich kids. But try applying your ethical spending ways to your tax bill and they'll toss you in the slammer.

Comments? kgravy@openface.ca