I spent most of this week in Las Vegas, a city built upon the concept of luring consumers to partake in excessive amounts of everything. Like to drink? There are at least two bars within view at all times. Like to eat? There is no shortage of restaurants, buffets and snack stations. Like shows and concerts? Depending on the length of your visit, you might need a second mortgage. Have the misdirected notion that your odds are better than Steve Wynn's? Then have no fear, you can gamble everywhere but the restroom (but I'm sure those slot machines are currently in production).

Now, don't get me wrong. I think Vegas is a fun place...why else would we go there? But, sometimes I wonder if the same social responsibility that affects marketers in other places will ever be found here. One of the leading news stories in the U.K. last month was about their recent legislation to ban junk food advertising during children's shows. Apparently, Burger King risks to lose almost $200 million a year as a result of the ban. Unless you are a major stockholder, one viewing of Super Size Me is probably enough to extinguish any sympathy you might have for these corporations. Hopefully, these initiatives will be more effective than the CAN-SPAM Act, which doesn’t seem to be stopping the inordinate amounts of non-permissible “email marketing” that continue unfettered.

Of course, social responsibility isn't always initiated by legislation. Eli Lilly is known for the charitable product donations that they have made in developing nations. On the other side of the spectrum of grandeur, we have all seen those ironically unnatural anti-tobacco ads from Phillip Morris. Even a local bar should have the social concern to cut someone off after they have had too many drinks. So is there a feeling of responsibility that online retailers should be considering? Or is the Internet just one huge Las Vegas Boulevard?

Here’s the page on WebMD that covers "Compulsive Shopping Addiction," or "Shopoholism." This article likens comfort shopping to a drug addiction. Perhaps that high RFM score isn’t such a good thing after all? But what would anybody do about it? Set up Shopoholics Anonymous meetings at the mall? Garnish the wages of our most loyal customers?

At some point, too much of a good thing is a bad thing, and we can’t shield everybody from everything that might harm them. However, it is interesting to consider that not every conversion is cause for celebration.