Life after Amazon
What started as a political boycott, ended in a richer life.
In November 2024, I didn’t renew my Amazon Prime membership. I will admit, at first, that the reason was political. I was unhappy with Amazon’s billionaire and no longer wanted to support the company. So, I turned off the auto-renewal and vowed to not buy anything from Amazon.
This, of course, had no effect whatsoever on Mr. Bezo’s life. Aside from the fact that I’m not much of a Prime shopper and typically download ebooks from the library, I also know that most of Amazon’s wealth comes from their web services, so my little boycott meant nothing. I just needed to feel like I was doing something though so I proceeded with my plan. My seemingly pointless boycott may not change anything in the world but it ended up changing my life and, by doing so, I hope my small attempt at fighting against the current state of affairs will have the tiniest ripple effect against the tsunami of technology that’s battering our shores.
I quickly realized that I didn’t miss the streaming service. Amazon’s selection of original programming was uninteresting, and I could rent movies online via other sources. Some of those sources were online, but I also rediscovered my library’s DVD section. Whenever I couldn’t find an older movie I wanted, I would head off to the library to see if it was on the shelves. Walking around those shelves reminded me of the days I would go to Hollywood Video with friends to pick out movies, sometimes stumbling onto great movies just because the covers looked interesting.
The same thing happened with books. Online or off, I was already an active library user. I did switch to a non-Amazon reader but kept my old Kindle for the sake of being able to access some of the books I had purchased previously.
Where I struggled was shopping for Christmas. As late November crept up, I secretly cursed myself for quitting just before the holidays. How in the world was I going to get gifts? “Come on old girl”, I whispered to myself. “you shopped for Christmas gifts in the 1990s, when Jeff B. was just a balding, young man banging away on a computer in his garage, you can do it!”
I knew I had to start shopping earlier because overnight shipping was no longer an option and having things mailed directly to my out-of-state family (already gift wrapped!) was going to take more time and money.
But a funny thing happened that Christmas. I enjoyed shopping. I was more intentional, taking the time to think about what people liked instead of searching online by typing, what to buy a college student. I did some online shopping on small websites or bought direct from companies instead of going through their portals on Amazon. It took a bit of research, but I found the challenge to be fun, almost like a scavenger hunt.
I ordered a mystery box of vintage clothes for my daughter and felt proud that I wasn’t contributing to fast-fashion and knew she would be pleased that I was honoring her beliefs about buying secondhand.
One day, my husband and I spent a lovely day in our quaint downtown, picking out holiday gifts from an independent toy store and our local bookstore, then popped into a wine bar to warm-up. There was something about sitting in that little café, bags stacked around us, holding hands, that made me feel like I was in a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Later, I stood in line at the post office, holding brown paper packages tied up with string (well maybe no string) and looked at the beautiful 1930s mural that had been painted as part of the Works Progress Administration (WPA). I ran into the grandmother of one of my daughter’s old high school friends and then talked to my favorite postal worker about which stamps to buy for my Christmas cards.
During all these errands, I was not only increasing my daily step count but spending time out in the world. Every time I didn’t want to go out shopping, I thought of a story Kurt Vonnegut told about a conversation he and his wife had when he told her was going out to buy an envelope:
Oh, she says well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.
I meet a lot of people. And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know…
And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.
All those errands were pure joy and my daughter later told me the gifts I gave her were some of the best gifts she ever got. I’ll be doing it all again this year.
Once Christmas was over, the errands continued. I’ve noticed my husband and I are spending less. It was so easy to press a button every time we thought about something we wanted. Now, knowing there will be time taken in searching for the item has slowed us down. Often, we decide we don’t really need the gadget and go without or we put it on a list and pick it up next we’re at the store. Though by the time we end up at the store, we look at the list and decide we don’t really NEED the things after all. I think we’ve ordered something from Amazon two or three things in the past year and that was because we had exhausted every other option first and really needed the items (such as medical supplies).
I understand that my ability to do all of this is born of privilege. I can afford to pay a little extra for products and for shipping. I have the luxury of time to run errands. Not everyone is so lucky. But if those of us who do have that privilege make a little extra effort, doesn’t it make sense that we will slowly bring money back into our local communities? That we might even out the distribution of wealth a tiny bit?
On the days I find myself resisting my new lifestyle, I ask myself; Couldn’t you use a walk? Wouldn’t it be nice to talk to total stranger in person rather than in the comments section of a website? Wouldn’t it be nice to be a “dancing animal” just a little bit longer?
A Note from Laura
Is it just me or is November a runaway train? I just got back from visiting my parents in Southern California and suddenly I’m starring down the barrel of Thanksgiving. I’m currently thinking about my menu-which is pretty much the same every year-and my guest list. What is your favorite Thanksgiving recipe? Tell me!
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. You know I love to feed people and there are no gifts to buy and you get to decorate the table with all your pretty dishes and light candles and, if you’re lucky, it might be raining and everyone around the table glows in the candlelight.
To read my memoir essays about past Thanksgivings, go to Thanksgiving 1978 and The Holidays as Told Through Three Spinach Recipes.
And here are some photos of my past Thanksgiving tables. Thanks for always being here.
This will be my first Christmas without the Amazon Crutch.
I stopped using Amazon in February in protest as well.
We also switched from Kindles to Kobos and use the library app more.
We have also bought less things for the same reasons you mentioned.
You aren't alone.
Boycotts matter.
They make a difference.
I wrote more about my boycott here: https://dinahbeingme.substack.com/p/my-canadian-resistance
There is life after Amazon. I also got rid of my WaPo subscription when Bezos started messing with the editorial page in 2024. And I’ve saved money not buying things. I really don’t need. It has been a little bit more work because I like to order my dog food and beauty supplies online, but I order from Chewys or Petsmart or the manufacturer and if the order is large enough shipping is free. So yes, Laura, we are not making a dent in Bezos riches, YET, but I did look and his profits are down this year. I also boycott other big donors to politics that don’t support We the People!