“Stranger Things” and the Illusion of Capitalism

The Starcourt Mall, as seen in Stranger Things 3

The producers of Stranger Things presumably thought placing a hidden Soviet research base underneath an American shopping mall in season 3 would make an ironic juxtaposition. After all, the brightly lit, party-like atmosphere couldn’t be further from the grim, featureless government installation which several characters find themselves trapped in through most of the season. What gap could be further, than between the Evil Empire and a capitalist acquisition extravaganza?

I propose, though, the producers knew the gap was notably small. Sure, the brightly lit Starcourt mall, where shoppers walk surrounded by endless choices and seemingly infinite social interaction, looks like an individualistic paradise. It certainly suckered countless suburban youths, like me, who grew up during the Reagan years, believing that these compressed venues of commerce represented the necessary end point of free enterprise. Having uncountable options in one place feels exciting.

However, when your shopping options are limited to which multinational corporation sells you shoes and fast food, the choice is illusory. The Starcourt Mall brims with chain stores, many of which peaked around the time this story is set (1985), but don’t, or scarcely, exist anymore. Names like Sam Goody, Waldenbooks, Orange Julius, and Radio Shack once tempted GenX into air-conditioned malls with promise of endless choice, overseen by supposedly benign corporate overlords.

Steve Harrington, who in previous seasons strutted around Hawking High School with swagger pinched from a Duran Duran video and dated the prettiest girl in school despite treating her like shit, now finds himself thrust into the adult economy. Rather than running things, he, like everyone who ever existed, must abase himself before Mammon. In his case, this means scooping ice cream while wearing a sailor suit so ridiculous, it makes Buster Brown look dignified.

Within moments, though, Steve and his coworker Robin uncover that the Starcourt Mall is a Soviet front; suited and booted Communists operate in subterranean caverns, conducting illicit research. Through means that matter to the plot, but not this commentary, Steve and Robin find themselves getting interrogated by Soviets in full Stalinist regalia, while themselves still wearing their degrading work uniforms. The parallelism between forms of enforced conformity is glaring.

The Starcourt Mall succeeds, as mall capitalism does, by convincing consumers their every desire is met inside climate-controlled, aesthetically pleasing indoor space. The sloppiness and chaos of downtown capitalism, with its sidewalks and rain, gets subordinated to the mall’s constant sensory overload. And superficial choice reigns supreme; if you dislike Sam Goody, try Tower Records instead. This illusory freedom finds its apotheosis in that acropolis of excess, the Food Court.

Yum yum! I'll have a double scoop of capitalism, please! (Netflix promotional image)

This putatively beats Soviet Communism because you have freedom to choose your employment, commerce, and loyalties. You don’t work the commune, shop at GUM, and salute Party logos. But if Steve and Robin’s employment is circumscribed by choosing between Scoops Ahoy or Taco Bell, how much liberty do they really have? They can’t afford the buy-in to start a funky take-out shawarma joint across the Food Court.

That’s even before the limitations of privately-held public space. Take a picket sign into any American mall, or even a guitar. I dare you. Malls, owned by corporations which usually aren’t headquartered locally, have no legal or moral obligation to respect free speech or regionally generated culture. And if you nominally have the right to say anything, but are precluded from venues where anybody can hear you, are you really free? Really?

Online conspiracy theorists postulate that Stranger Things 3, appearing almost simultaneously with HBO’s Chernobyl miniseries, reflects possible growing fear of anti-capitalist rebellion. Our media sovereigns must squelch this cultural trend through intellectual mockery immediately! But actually watching Stranger Things 3, it doesn’t make Reagan-era mall capitalism look any better. If Soviet Communists can successfully disguise themselves as corporate maestros, is there any real difference?

(As an aside, malls and other aggregate capitalism have definitely narrowed the economy, but that doesn’t mean pre-mall capitalism was some Eden of entrepreneurial vigor. Anyone who visits communities where city fathers resisted the mall impulse, knows that locally owned businesses can be just as imperious and anti-democratic as large corporations. Don’t fall prey to appeals for false nostalgia; unrestricted capitalism has always been deeply anti-individuality.)

Writing between World Wars, GK Chesterton observed that, for ordinary citizens, the difference between capitalism and communism is vanishingly small. The only choice is, do you prefer your life dominated by state bureaucrats or corporate bureaucrats? The Starcourt Mall demonstrates what that means. Steve and Robin as workers, and the people of Hawkins as consumers, are supposedly free under mall capitalism. But they’re free in ways that just don’t matter.