Something peculiar is afoot at Britain's largest books retailer. 
In Waterstones the other day, I discovered this new section, 'Books you really should read'. I searched in vain for 'Books you probably should read'. And what about 'Books you really shouldn't read'? I guess that would depend on your upbringing. For those who are tiring of 'Nick Robinson's rivetting look at the history of punctuation inside Lewis Hamilton's kitchen' (or whatever), it might well be taken to refer to about 80% of the shop floor.
But this is an interesting turn indeed. The problem with capitalism, as any fool know, is that it is an insatiable system that relies on satiable institutions and individuals. It tends towards over-production, crisis and devaluation, unless extra demand can be found. In the post-1970s 'fix' (as regulationists call it) that now appears to be coming to an end, consumers have tended to perform the role previously attributed to the Keynesian state, and live outside of their means. But they can only be persuaded to do this if products satisfy unquenchable, irrational, infantile desires. The task of getting people to buy stuff they 'really shouldn't' was absolutely crucial to the regime of capital accumulation of the past thirty years. As Adam Curtis showed in this film, modern advertising was more than up to the job. Kevin Roberts et al filled their boots through mastering the art of communicating to the unconscious, largely through the world-changing discovery that not only do people rather enjoy having sex, they are also a little anxious about their ability to have enough of it.
An advertising paradigm that encouraged you to do what you 'really should', that is, one that spoke to the moral superego rather than the desires that lurk beneath, would be ineffective at mopping up surplus production. Hell, people might come over all German and save more money than they spend!
However, if real austerity has little place in marketing strategy, there is certainly a place for 'faux austerity' (the trend-spotters might want to take this and call it 'fausterity'; that one's on me). Being tugged every which way by acts of warm and welcoming seduction, the consumer occasionally wants to be treated a little mean. "Have you read this book? Pah! You really should, you know", say the dominatrices of Waterstones. Having exhausted all options to speak kindly to the inner child, the marketers approach via a pincer movement, clamping down hard upon the guilty adult.
There is one crucial difference between real austerity and Fausterity: the latter must result in failure, and repeatedly so. The economically successful diet book is the one that has a sequel ('how to actually lose weight!'). The economically successful gym is the one which is only used by a minority of its paying members. And one can't help but think that the last thing Waterstones wants is for people to actually read the 'books you really should read', but to buy them, put them on a shelf, then feel ashamed for not reading them. Full of a sense that you don't read serious books, you are then perfectly positioned for a bit of literary S&M next time you enter Waterstones. This is what the word 'really' is doing on the sign - no messing around, this time you really should read these books. Meanwhile, those who really do read such books are probably perfectly happy with a combination of second hand bookshops, friends' bookshelves, public libraries and Amazon, having no need for the moral lecture.
So there's an irony. Perhaps the credit crunch, caused partly through consumers ceasing to fear debt, will result in a culture of Fausterity, a new respect for an ethos of self-control, discipline and superego. And naturally, there is someone on hand to sell this to them.
But this is an interesting turn indeed. The problem with capitalism, as any fool know, is that it is an insatiable system that relies on satiable institutions and individuals. It tends towards over-production, crisis and devaluation, unless extra demand can be found. In the post-1970s 'fix' (as regulationists call it) that now appears to be coming to an end, consumers have tended to perform the role previously attributed to the Keynesian state, and live outside of their means. But they can only be persuaded to do this if products satisfy unquenchable, irrational, infantile desires. The task of getting people to buy stuff they 'really shouldn't' was absolutely crucial to the regime of capital accumulation of the past thirty years. As Adam Curtis showed in this film, modern advertising was more than up to the job. Kevin Roberts et al filled their boots through mastering the art of communicating to the unconscious, largely through the world-changing discovery that not only do people rather enjoy having sex, they are also a little anxious about their ability to have enough of it.
An advertising paradigm that encouraged you to do what you 'really should', that is, one that spoke to the moral superego rather than the desires that lurk beneath, would be ineffective at mopping up surplus production. Hell, people might come over all German and save more money than they spend!
However, if real austerity has little place in marketing strategy, there is certainly a place for 'faux austerity' (the trend-spotters might want to take this and call it 'fausterity'; that one's on me). Being tugged every which way by acts of warm and welcoming seduction, the consumer occasionally wants to be treated a little mean. "Have you read this book? Pah! You really should, you know", say the dominatrices of Waterstones. Having exhausted all options to speak kindly to the inner child, the marketers approach via a pincer movement, clamping down hard upon the guilty adult.
There is one crucial difference between real austerity and Fausterity: the latter must result in failure, and repeatedly so. The economically successful diet book is the one that has a sequel ('how to actually lose weight!'). The economically successful gym is the one which is only used by a minority of its paying members. And one can't help but think that the last thing Waterstones wants is for people to actually read the 'books you really should read', but to buy them, put them on a shelf, then feel ashamed for not reading them. Full of a sense that you don't read serious books, you are then perfectly positioned for a bit of literary S&M next time you enter Waterstones. This is what the word 'really' is doing on the sign - no messing around, this time you really should read these books. Meanwhile, those who really do read such books are probably perfectly happy with a combination of second hand bookshops, friends' bookshelves, public libraries and Amazon, having no need for the moral lecture.
So there's an irony. Perhaps the credit crunch, caused partly through consumers ceasing to fear debt, will result in a culture of Fausterity, a new respect for an ethos of self-control, discipline and superego. And naturally, there is someone on hand to sell this to them.
The problem with capitalism, as any fool know, is that it is an insatiable system that relies on satiable institutions and individuals.
The problem with capitalism is that it gives people too much?
That is a failure mode I think I can live with.
Posted by: ad | May 29, 2008 at 08:10 PM
OK, in addition to this attack that throwaway remark seems to be causing some consternation. It's a (not very) oblique reference to Marx, who argued that capital could only survive by growing. This means a constant increase in inputs (of labour, technology, natural resources) but also results in a constant increase in outputs. As it becomes more productive, the value of its productive capacity and of its products inevitably falls. One way of delaying crisis is to find a market/government/someone capable of consuming surplus goods and keeping the wheel turning. Understanding why this growth is necessary is explained in volume one of Capital.
Sorry for any confusion, and I shall try not to tread on any common-sense-psychologist toes in future...
Posted by: Will Davies | May 30, 2008 at 10:40 AM
books you really shouldn't read: try Beyond Authority: Leadership in a Changing World by Julia Middleton ;o)
Posted by: A contrarian | May 30, 2008 at 02:02 PM