From Diamonds to Dieting — How Industries Built on Rarity Thrive on Misinformation
I once saw a quote on Instagram talking about the commoditization of love.
It was pulled from an article in The Atlantic, aptly titled Diamonds Aren’t Special and Neither Is Your Love.
“We’ve coupled love to marriage and marriage to gems, and all three thrive on the assumption of rarity. What would it mean for love to be common?” Jaya Saxena
I remember being enraptured by the sentiment: common love.
Common is a term that stems from Old French and Latin, dating back to 1300. It means something belonging to all that is free and available.
The diamond trade, by contrast, is a skillful example of marketing rarity.
In 1982, Edward Jay Epstein penned Have You Ever Tried to Sell a Diamond, which explains how diamonds became cemented in the American lexicon for love.
Epstein provides a deep dive into the chain of events that created the diamond industry we know today. In short, he describes how it evolved from a concerted effort to control both supply and demand.
De Beers Diamond Mine in South Africa
After the discovery of abundant diamond mines in South Africa threatened investor interests, De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd. was formed to regulate availability. It was reasoned that if diamonds are difficult to access and widely unavailable, prices can remain artificially inflated. Over a century later, this trend persists.
With supply under the tight control of De Beers, attention turned towards consumer demand. N. W. Ayer & Son, a legacy American advertising agency based in Philadelphia, was retained to spearhead the effort. The firm’s goal was singular — make diamonds universally coveted by American consumers.
The now famous advertising campaign, A Diamond is Forever, positioned diamonds as a timeless symbol of commitment, devotion, and romance. Not only were diamonds expensive, but they became symbolic of eternal love and commitment. Consumers were sold the narrative that the more expensive and sizable the stone, the deeper the eternal bond.
The original influencers — old Hollywood stars — were given diamond rings to sell this standard to the American consciousness. Product placement and public relations deals nested diamonds on the hands of leading Hollywood elite ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Grace Kelly. An article detailing studies conducted by N.W. Ayer revealed that in 1930, diamonds were considered overpriced and out of touch. By 1959, “a full 80 percent of the brides had received diamond engagement rings, and the carat weight of the stones seemed to be increasing.”
In less than 20 years, the American public moved from disinterested to fervent in their desire to acquire diamonds. Not because of any intrinsic value offered by the stone, but because of its newfound association with the deeper emotional bonds of love, safety, and harmony.
So, the question of the quote remains. What would it mean for love to be common? For all people to be endowed with connectedness and security through sheer existence rather than acquisition.
I, for one, believe that love should be common.
As a culture, we can choose to prioritize emotional safety, security, and connectedness through interpersonal relationships rather than material goods. Love is all around us, accessible to everyone, and doesn’t cost a thing. The idea of common love is a beautiful sentiment and one that mirrors our commitment to democratizing wellness closely.
Similar to love, we believe health should be common. As detailed in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, health is a universal, basic requirement to living a psychologically and physiologically attuned life.
But segments of the health industry are more reminiscent of the diamond industry than many would care to admit. This fact is made all the more damaging in that health, unlike gems, is not a commodity that can be bought and traded.
It is clear that multinational corporations have a stake in preserving the status quo. Just look at the $71 billion dollar diet industry advertising quick fixes and miraculous products. More often than not, studies report fad diets ineffective in nurturing long-term behavioral change. Yet, advertising campaigns continue to promote that the healthy outcomes we seek lie dutifully on the other end of a credit card swipe.
Similar to diamonds, we have been socialized into believing that an ideal body type is rare and beyond our reach.
Similar to a high price point, we have been marketed into believing that health is expensive and elusive.
Similar to old Hollywood stars, we are the product of an influencer culture primarily endowed by public relations and product placement.
The comparisons go on and on.
The goal of health-seeking behavior is to improve one’s quality of life. Yet, we are shown a narrative of idealized results next to claims of short-term cures.
A sampling of Women’s Health covers, aggregated by VoxThe women who are gracing these covers did not employ the tactics promoted next to their likeness, and many have been vocal in their opposition to misleading and damaging headlines. But this remains the impression consumers are left to grapple with, consciously or subconsciously.
Consumers wonder: “Can I employ quick fixes and see amazing results?”
How defeated they feel when the claims fail to be fulfilled.
Whether you are one of the women on the cover, or one flipping through the pages of the magazine, we are all beholden to the same illusion. Health is cast just beyond our reach — meant to keep us entrapped in a cycle of scarcity and seeking behavior.
So I ask again— what would it mean for health to be common?
What if something as simple as morning movement could instantly improve our mood and strengthen our muscles?
What if getting in a few extra steps each day could lower our blood pressure and reduce our risk of chronic disease?
What if small, mindful adjustments to our daily food rituals could show marked improvement in our energy levels?
What if healthful living wasn’t so elusive after all?
This is no utopia. This is our reality.
Every day we have the opportunity to make healthful choices that better our present reality and our future.
In 20 years, marketers used campaigns to condition the American public into believing that a rock in the ground was invaluable. Today, we hold the keys to help individuals everywhere change their quality of life — now and forever.
Imagine a world where everyone you know is empowered with the understanding that making healthful choices is accessible, attainable, and within their grasp.
That world is possible; it can be ours.
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