Keepin' Up With The Joneses And The Real Impacts of Capitalism

It must’ve been sometime in 2020, peak pandemic, full lockdown, nobody leaving the house, and yet, I was buying clothes like I had places to be. That’s when I discovered websites like GOAT and StockX. As a brand-new sneakerhead, I was glued to my laptop, hunting down every Jordan 1 and Nike Dunk that dropped. I remember flexing my haul on Instagram, proud of my growing collection. Then someone commented:

“Why are you buying all that? It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

At first, I was annoyed. But… she wasn’t wrong.

UPS showed up every other day with shoes I wouldn’t wear for outings that didn’t exist. The entire state of California was shut down, and here I was, stimulating the economy from my living room.

Now, I work in marketing (yes, I still have a 9-to-5 until this blog takes off), and one thing I’ve always been fascinated with is geofencing. If you’ve never heard of it, here’s the short version: it’s a way for companies to send ads to your phone based on your location. Like when you’re near a store or restaurant and suddenly get a coupon or “limited-time offer” notification? That’s geofencing doing its job — luring you in with the illusion of convenience and urgency and making you buy something you probably don't need.

Between 2020 and 2022, it felt like we were drowning in ads. Influencers told us what to wear, what to buy, and who we needed to become. Psychology met capitalism, and the result? People felt bad about their lives unless they had the latest designer shoes, luxury bags, or tech gadgets.

Some people risked rent money for Alexander McQueens. Others blew through their stimulus checks, chasing Gucci dreams and gold-chain identities.

This isn’t judgment — it’s observation. And nothing captures this phenomenon better than the film The Joneses (2009).

Weaponized Consumerism

If you haven’t seen The Joneses, please stop reading and watch it. Seriously. It’s a masterclass on how consumerism can be disguised as lifestyle goals. The plot centers on a “family” that isn’t real. They’re hired by a marketing firm to live in an upscale suburb and sell products, not through traditional advertising, but by simply being seen living their fake, fabulous lives. The cars, the gadgets, the fashion — it’s all part of a sales strategy.

They don’t run commercials. They are the commercials.

Their neighbors don’t know they’re being manipulated. They just think they’re watching the epitome of success unfold next door. Sound familiar? That’s exactly how social media influencers operate; you don’t realize you’re being sold to because everything looks “authentic.” I didn’t buy shoes. I bought a sense of identity. I bought a belonging.

Status is a Costume

The real gut-punch in The Joneses is seeing how neighbors begin to mimic the family’s consumer habits. There’s this couple, Larry and Summer, who slowly unravel trying to keep up.

•Larry maxes out his finances to match Steve’s car, only to find Steve bought an upgraded model.

•Summer starts doubting her self-worth because her house, wardrobe, and lifestyle pale in comparison.

This isn’t fiction, this is life with Klarna, Afterpay, and “four easy payments.” The pandemic popularized these services because we still needed to look like we had it together, even when everything was falling apart. People were financing $3,000 Louis bags on part-time paychecks.

Capitalism convinces us that our value is tied to our image. And that image costs money.

Capitalism as Deception

Here’s the kicker: The Jones family isn’t just pushing products. They’re selling illusions. They’re manipulating everyone around them for profit. No one knows they’re not really a family. No one knows their relationships are fake. The community is falling apart while smiling at a lie.

And this is the harshest truth: Capitalism doesn’t always care about people. It cares about performance. It rewards the best actors, the highest sellers, and the most convincing illusions. If you’ve ever felt pressure to buy something because someone “influential” told you to, that’s capitalism at work. That’s The Joneses, but now it’s in HD on your phone, 24/7.

So, Why Does This Matter?

Because we’re still doing it, every social media scroll is a trip through someone else’s curated showroom. We’re still mistaking possessions for peace, brands for belonging, and luxury for love. Capitalism thrives on discontent and convincing you that you’re always just one purchase away from feeling whole. But The Joneses reminds us that chasing image over authenticity is a losing game.

The cost isn’t just financial. It’s emotional. Sometimes, it’s fatal.

Final Thought

Next time you see an influencer holding a product, ask yourself:

Am I buying the item… or am I buying the identity they’re selling?

If you pause long enough, you might realize you don’t need either.