Selling Spirituality: The Problem with Using Culture as a Commodity

Words by Jia Sharma (she/her)


Let me start by saying that I love The Third Eye as much as the next person. 


I love buying cute crystal jewellery and elephant-printed bags. I can’t walk up Cuba Street without stepping into that incense-scented store. I love explaining what certain imagery, words, and symbols mean to my friends. The Third Eye is filled with aspects of the culture I grew up with, from the silk skirts that I still trip over every Diwali to the henna that was a staple of every wedding I’ve ever been to and I still do on my friends. You step into the back section of the store and it feels as if you are no longer in a shop, you’re in a whole new continent. All the price tags and tills disappear. The Third Eye makes me feel represented in this country so dominated by Western standards and influences, and it’s warming to see people from different backgrounds enjoy the wonderland of treasures in that store as much as I do. 


However, I reach my tipping point when I think too much about the reality of stores like this one. I realise how much consumer culture and the industrialisation of spirituality have twisted my culture into an accessory and spectacle. 


To Western society, Eastern nations are like a new and sparkly shopping mall from which they can cherry-pick customs, traditions, and practices to suit their needs. Corporate America has turned the Buddhist concept of mindfulness into a productivity tool to help solve workplace grievances, passively argue through emails, and fire employees. I cannot express how much I cringe whenever a yoga or meditation scene comes up in a movie, and I have to listen to the exaggerated chants of the white character who now calls themselves a guru (the entire scene is always full of mispronunciation as well). When I finished writing the draft for this piece, I sat down with my friends to watch our daily episode of ^Two Broke Girls^. I was hit in the face with a joke that misused a Hindu phrase in the most offensive way possible. 


In recent years, we have seen the emergence of this new kind of ‘wellness’ business on social media. This cultural misrepresentation is especially present as part of the constantly growing ‘New Age’ spirituality community, which follows the cycle of disrespecting cultural origins while claiming to be authentic. Traditional practices are left not only misrepresented but also aestheticised for the profit of others. The cult of wellness and yoga is dominated by green juice lululemon influencers who are uninformed about the cultural significance and meaning of the practices they preach online. I think I would go into a coma if someone told me to ‘namaste all day’, which is a quote I found on way too many Etsy t-shirts during my research. It doesn’t actually rhyme as well as people think it does if you use the correct pronunciation.


The lack of people of colour as prominent members of this ‘New Age’  yoga and mindfulness community is incredibly annoying, considering the fact that the practice of yoga was banned in India under British rule for being ‘too sexual’. Over time, this misinterpretation has continued, and spiritual practices such as meditation and yoga have lost their religious and symbolic meaning. They are reduced to no more than a commercial spectacle. Dr Sara Rahmani, a Religious Studies lecturer at Te Herenga Waka, discussed this with ^Stuff journalist Ripu Bhatia for an article. “Yoga is typically taught divorced from its spiritual and philosophical underpinnings, instead of helping the practitioner to achieve spiritual enlightenment, it is helping them develop stronger core muscles.” Wellness through the lens of influencers holds more appeal to consumers than both authentic spiritual wellness and simply going to the gym. This is all in the vain of taking part in something that appears ‘unique’ and ‘exotic’. 


In addition to practices, cultural symbols have become dislocated from their religious and socio-political meanings due to the media and consumer culture distorting them. Symbols such as Om, the iconography of gods, and statues of Buddha are used as decorations and have very little to do with yoga. There is a difference between bringing symbols and their associated meaning into a space and simply plonking them in for visual effect. Sometimes people need to be told that the pretty elephant necklace they’re wearing is not just a pretty elephant necklace and is actually a significant god. 


I’ll admit that it’s hard to watch people treat culturally significant symbols and ideas ignorantly. I was discussing this topic with my friend Siddhi, who said, “It’s different when they understand the origins of what they’re wearing and how to represent them, but I hate when people take cultural imagery and clothing and label their style as ‘hippie’ or ‘witchy’ when they are just wearing some ethnic jewellery and a flowy skirt.”


The Coachella music festival is controversially marked by the recurring presence of cultural appropriation over the years. The use of bindis, for example, became a ‘new trend’ and popular accessory for festival goers in 2015. In 2017, Amazon was criticised for selling shoes with Mahatma Gandhi’s face printed on them and doormats depicting the Indian flag, which is a crime in India. This fascination and desire to participate in the ‘exotic’ has been present since Western and Eastern societies met. Celebrating and appreciating multiculturalism is politically progressive, but I don’t think taking advantage of other cultures to build a platform counts. 


This misrepresentation and appropriation might seem insignificant to those on the other side, but it harshly affects the cultures being taken advantage of. Due to this consistent misrepresentation, people now see a distorted version of Indian cultures made up of Karens in tree pose and Sanskrit-inspired tattoos. This often leads to a negative view of traditional cultural and religious practices when it’s not the watered-down, yoga mum version that perpetuates Western ideals. They are seen as outdated and archaic.


Honestly, I didn’t think I had a massive problem with this issue until the 260-word mark of this piece. But yeah, it’s hard to watch your culture become a commodity, and see others be praised for something they learned on a week-long retreat to Bali when you never received that same praise for being born into it. 


I don’t want my culture to be ‘entertaining’. I don’t want it to be a two-minute butt-of-the-joke in an Adam Sandler comedy. I don’t want the burden of being ‘exotic’. I’ve seen so many people refuse to acknowledge or learn the origins of these practices because it means realising and admitting they’re not representing them correctly. The appreciation of religious Indian traditions is lessened as a result of more attention and online traffic being directed to white wellness influencers. Those trying to share their own culture aren’t even given a chance. While doing research for this piece, I struggled to find a prominent person of colour in the NZ spirituality and wellness industry. The ‘evolved’ perception has been so popularised that authentic methods and practices are pushed down.  


Ignorance is not bliss when it comes to using other people’s culture for your own social and financial gain. 


This phenomenon is not new, and it has been discussed time and time again. The commercialisation of spiritual practices and imagery has always been criticised, yet the appropriation and disrespect continue. I’m not trying to stop people from other cultures from participating in mine. I think it’s great when done correctly. Misrepresentation is the problem, and it’s not the right way to immerse yourself in another culture. 


If you want to take part in the spiritual practices of Indian cultures, do your research. Google the meaning of the symbol you’re wearing, find authentic yoga classes by Indian people, and think before you type #hippie in your Instagram caption. Educate yourself so you can properly appreciate other cultures. That’s the bottom line. 

Jia Sharma