Like Daniel, I found Galbraith’s analysis of “modern want
creation” particularly interesting. While I do agree with Galbraith that modern
wants (at least in the developing world) are generally far less urgent than
standard wants were, say, two centuries ago, I do not agree entirely with his
assessment that “the marginal utility of present aggregate output, ex advertising and salesmanship, is zero”
(Galbraith 131). Certainly, there are many desires for non-necessary goods that
are entirely contrived, and there are many situations in which that is a
problem. However, I do think that there are also desires for non-necessary
goods that are not entirely contrived. Prior to any influence of advertising,
we may have a general desire for something that provides us utility, but is
non-necessary. For example, we may desire fun or comfort. There may be a
specific good that can satisfy this original general desire, but we lack the
desire for that specific good until advertising informs us of its usefulness in
satisfying our general desire.
I wish to illuminate this distinction through contrasting two types of goods: videogames and cosmetics. Videogames, I would argue, are an example of a non-necessary good that satisfies a general want, but that we do not specifically desire independent of advertising. People could not have wanted to buy, for example, Skyrim until they knew anything about it; the advertising served (in part) to eliminate their ignorance and inform them about the real potential benefits of the product (though no doubt the advertising employed persuasive and even deceptive techniques as well). Specific cosmetic items, however, particularly when they first enter the market, do not follow this pattern. Instead, advertisers have to falsely persuade consumers – usually women – that these items provide some benefit to them because the products are actually pretty useless. Take, for example, this “face-slimming mask”. Unless someone has a particularly strong innate desire to have a slim face (assuming this product actually works), this product is going to be pretty useless for her. If, however, an advertising company can convince this person that she needs this face-slimming mask to achieve social prestige, success in dating, or some other end that she actually desires, then she will perceive it as valuable (when it is not), desire it, and possibly purchase it. Obviously, this is a particularly extreme example, but many, if not all, cosmetic products started out this way – at first appearing strange and, eventually, through successful advertising campaigns and enough time, achieving social acceptance and even becoming the norm. Imaginably, nail polish or fake eyelashes would seem to a person 100 years ago much like this strange face-slimming contraption seems to us today.
I wish to illuminate this distinction through contrasting two types of goods: videogames and cosmetics. Videogames, I would argue, are an example of a non-necessary good that satisfies a general want, but that we do not specifically desire independent of advertising. People could not have wanted to buy, for example, Skyrim until they knew anything about it; the advertising served (in part) to eliminate their ignorance and inform them about the real potential benefits of the product (though no doubt the advertising employed persuasive and even deceptive techniques as well). Specific cosmetic items, however, particularly when they first enter the market, do not follow this pattern. Instead, advertisers have to falsely persuade consumers – usually women – that these items provide some benefit to them because the products are actually pretty useless. Take, for example, this “face-slimming mask”. Unless someone has a particularly strong innate desire to have a slim face (assuming this product actually works), this product is going to be pretty useless for her. If, however, an advertising company can convince this person that she needs this face-slimming mask to achieve social prestige, success in dating, or some other end that she actually desires, then she will perceive it as valuable (when it is not), desire it, and possibly purchase it. Obviously, this is a particularly extreme example, but many, if not all, cosmetic products started out this way – at first appearing strange and, eventually, through successful advertising campaigns and enough time, achieving social acceptance and even becoming the norm. Imaginably, nail polish or fake eyelashes would seem to a person 100 years ago much like this strange face-slimming contraption seems to us today.
Such desires are contrived in a much more insidious way
because their satisfaction does not actually provide any benefit to the consumer. On the other
hand, someone’s probably going to actually enjoy playing a videogame they
purchase whether or not it appears to carry social prestige or other benefits.
They may have other options of satisfying their desire for fun, but at least
they satisfy it (and derive utility) nonetheless. Indeed, they may satisfy it “better”
or at a higher level of quality than with other goods. If this is the case (and
I would argue it often is with videogames) then increased production and
innovation actually does lead to increased utility.
Of course, there are some complications with this distinction. Particularly, once a given cosmetic product reaches sufficient market saturation that it becomes a social norm, there often are costs and benefits associated with the decision to use or not use it. These costs and benefits are more clear surrounding norm-related products like suits and business clothing in that failure to purchase and use such goods can literally deprive one of income, but arguably they exist in situations where the costs are less explicitly quantitative as well. I would argue that these sorts of situations are to a certain extent problematic. No doubt, it is useful to be able to use appearance to communicate intent or attitude (such as professionalism in an interview situation), and so these norms, regardless of the specific form they take, have some use. Nonetheless, the extent to which advertising develops and extends these norms is highly unnecessary and carries high opportunity costs. If, for example, we devoted resources towards developing new videogames instead of weirdtorture contraptions face slimmers (or even something more mundane
like hair dye and fake eyelashes) it seems like there would be a lot higher
utility as a result with little impact on the ability to use conformance to
social norms as a form of communicating. (Of course, I am pretending here that
we can make tradeoffs between cosmetic item production and videogame production
when that’s almost definitely not the case, but certainly there’s something better
we could be doing with those resources.)
Of course, there are some complications with this distinction. Particularly, once a given cosmetic product reaches sufficient market saturation that it becomes a social norm, there often are costs and benefits associated with the decision to use or not use it. These costs and benefits are more clear surrounding norm-related products like suits and business clothing in that failure to purchase and use such goods can literally deprive one of income, but arguably they exist in situations where the costs are less explicitly quantitative as well. I would argue that these sorts of situations are to a certain extent problematic. No doubt, it is useful to be able to use appearance to communicate intent or attitude (such as professionalism in an interview situation), and so these norms, regardless of the specific form they take, have some use. Nonetheless, the extent to which advertising develops and extends these norms is highly unnecessary and carries high opportunity costs. If, for example, we devoted resources towards developing new videogames instead of weird
Ultimately, I think the test we need to apply in determining if a product contributes value is not simply whether or not it is
necessary for survival, but also, if it is non-necessary, if a consumer would
be interested in the product simply from hearing the facts about the product,
assuming this consumer operates in an economy where this product (or others that
serve a similar function) are rare if they exist at all. If the hypothetical consumer
is nonetheless interested in the product, then imaginably it would add some
real value to his or her life. However, if the consumer requires advertising
beyond mere statement of facts (or requires the context of a society in which
use of that product is an established norm with costs for noncompliance) to
express any interest in the product, chances are that product doesn't actually
present any real, independent value to the consumer. For these goods, Galbraith’s
argument holds – their production is nothing to celebrate. However, production
of the first category of goods is something to be happy about, although we may
still prefer to achieve other, more "valuable" goals (such as a reduction of income inequality).
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