Explaining Conspicuous Consumption in International Relations
A tower studded with elephant tusks marked the way to the palace gate. All elephants belonged to the emperor, and by spiking a tower with their teeth he was demonstrating his power. Beware! The tower said. You are entering the realm of the Elephant King, a sovereign so rich in pachyderms that he can waste the gnashes of a thousand of the beasts just to decorate me. (Rushdie 2008, 5)
Whatis the role of prestige in international relations? Following decades of relative neglect, international relations scholars are once again trying to tackle this question.1 In this volume I contribute to this renewed effort through an analysis of conspicuous consumption in international relations. The theory draws on the economic literature on Veblen effects. I argue that states engage in conspicuous consumption in a quest for prestige and that the pursuit of prestige rivals the pursuit of power as a motivating force in international affairs.2 Veblen effects are an analytical construct that explains distortions in patterns of demand. Instead of preferring cheaper goods for a given level of quality, actors sometimes show preference for more expensive ones. Veblen effects account for these anomalies by suggesting that actors use consumption as a signal to indicate their social station. Actors are willing to pay more in the hope that the additional expense may buy them prestige. Just as in Salman Rushdie’s fictional palace, excess in international relations is often used as a means for demonstrating power and seeking prestige.
Hence, a state’s motivation for embarking on a costly policy is sometimes akin to an individual’s purchase of a luxury car or a designer gown— it establishes that country’s place in an international social hierarchy. International relations are replete with examples of excess: some states buy expensive weapons systems they do not need and cannot afford to maintain;
others engage in expensive foreign-aid programs of little benefit to the recipients; small, poor, landlocked countries procure navies; the superpowers continue to hold nuclear arsenals well in excess of the amount needed to counter any conceivable threat. International relations, therefore, provide us with many examples of contemporary Elephant Kings, complete with imposing modern equivalents of ivory-covered towers.
A Veblenian analysis views consumption as a communicative act— a social signal (Campbell 1995, 114). The ensuing signaling game involves continuous and simultaneous cycles of emulation and distinction as actors struggle to define their position in the social hierarchy. Thorstein Veblen, who introduced this model in his seminal book The Theory of the Leisure Class (1899), used it as a socioeconomic critique of what he considered an increasingly rigid and overly material study of economics. For Veblen, it is impossible to understand consumption decisions without accounting for human motivations and social institutions. Consumption is not solely inner directed, aimed at satisfying actors’ needs and desires, but is also other directed, aimed at demonstrating what one is able and willing to afford. In this sense, consumption is a deeply social act. This is true for the political realm as well. Policy decisions are not only a means for achieving specific material goals but are also a gesture to be observed by other peers.
A glance at several concrete examples can help further elucidate both the theoretical argument as well as the empirical puzzles this book seeks to explain. On the morning of October 15, 2003, the Chinese spacecraft Shenzhou V blasted off from the Gobi Desert, carrying with it China’s first astronaut, Yang Liwei. Yang’s historic flight is part of an ambitious Chinese space program that includes plans for a manned moon landing by the year 2020. Most observers saw this mission as a “part of Beijing’s plans to create a space industry and earn the prestige of joining the United States and Russia as the only nations to have sent humans into space” (Demaria 2001). Yet it is not necessarily clear why China would seek prestige (or be able to acquire it) by embarking on a mission that was abandoned years ago by the United States as a result of its low utility and prohibitive price tag. Brazil, similarly, chose to spend much-needed resources on a dubious purchase. In 2000, Brazil spent most of its naval procurement budget on the purchase of an aging French aircraft carrier of little or no strategic value. This was the highlight of a wider naval buildup trying to “reinsert the country into the graces of the major powers” (Brazilian Defense white paper, as quoted in Jane’s Defense Weekly, September 29, 1999). Here
again, prestige is associated with expensive policies of dubious material merit. Finally, the failure of the US F-20 program offers another useful illustration. The F-20 was developed in the late 1970s as a cheaper fighter plane. It was thought that poorer countries would find such a plane an attractive alternative to other, more expensive fighters. However, the F-20 found no market. States preferred to have very small forces of expensive fighters rather than larger and more able forces of cheaper ones (Eyre and Suchman 1996, 93). The symbolic value of owning a top-of-the-line fighter was proven to be higher than the value of having a larger, cheaper, and more effective fighter force. Ironically, reducing the cost of the F-20 fighter made it less attractive to its most likely customers.3
The Veblenian framework provides one simple unifying explanation for these disparate examples. The preference for excess is explained through the dynamics of conspicuous consumption. Indeed, in all these examples, actors engage in expensive behavior in the hope of gaining prestige: China wishes to be recognized as a superpower; Brazil aspires to join the ranks of the major powers; poorer countries reject the F-20 to avoid a humiliating label. Rushdie’s Elephant King similarly uses an extravagant ivory-covered tower in order to emphasize his aspirations to greatness. These actors are sensitive to the way in which their consumption decisions affect their social standing. In all these examples, actors show at least a rudimentary level of reflexivity regarding the connection between costly conspicuous consumption and international prestige.
Like these actors, in this book I take conspicuous consumption seriously. I argue that the study of international “luxuries” is not frivolous but is rather key to a deeper understanding of the implications of prestige in international relations. Identifying the international equivalent of the Prada handbag or the Rolls Royce is a theoretical hook that can allow us to start unpacking the notoriously elusive concept of prestige. Conspicuous consumption does not cover all possible prestige-seeking behaviors in international relations. Nevertheless, it is important and distinct enough to warrant special attention. Indeed, the many examples that are sprinkled throughout this book demonstrate that conspicuous consumption has discernable empirical implications that cannot easily be fully accounted for by traditional explanations such as those relying on deterrence or domestic or bureaucratic politics. Consequently, I hope that the discussion in this book can highlight the potential utility and importance of further development of a broader theory of prestige in international relations and that the argument offered here can serve as an important
stepping stone in this direction. In order to do so, I first explore the concepts of prestige and conspicuous consumption. This opens the door to an elaboration of the logic of status symbols in international relations in chapter 2. To demonstrate the dynamics of conspicuous consumption in action, the following chapters review three international “luxury commodities”: aircraft carriers, prosocial policies, and Big Science projects. Each of these commodities illustrates different aspects of international conspicuous consumption.
An application of conspicuous consumption to international relations relies on three nontrivial analytical moves. First, the theory of conspicuous consumption views prestige as social, hierarchical, and positional. Sociality accounts for the need for conspicuousness, while the remaining two elements provide the impetus for spending competitions and for excessive consumption. Second, the theory relies on a consumption-based analysis of international relations. While households may spend their incomes on various combinations of food, housing, and leisure, states use their policies to “purchase” various combinations of international commodity bundles. Some states may decide to buy more “security,” others may put a premium on purchasing “health.” Once viewed through the consumption lens, these decisions can be subjected to a broad range of political-economic theories that are otherwise rarely utilized in international relations. Finally, the theory of conspicuous consumption allows us to circumvent the intractable problem of measurement. As a latent and multifaceted concept, prestige has proven difficult to measure. The conspicuous consumption argument dances around this difficulty by tackling prestige indirectly. Accordingly, the theory concentrates on one sort of observable implication of prestige-seeking behavior, one that only makes sense within a prestige-seeking framework. The remainder of this chapter elaborates each of these analytical moves in order.
Prestige and International Relations Theory
The State of the Study of Prestige in International Relations Theory
As a facet of power, prestige has always been an important concept for international relations theory. And yet, until recently, it has mostly been treated in passing. Classic works of scholars such as Thucydides, Machiavelli, Rousseau, and Hobbes, to name a few, are rife with references to the importance of honor, glory, and prestige as fundamental human motivations.4
Contemporary literature, aside from sporadic explorations, largely shies away from dealing with these motivations: they are deemed too vague, old fashioned, and notoriously difficult to quantify.5 The analytical attributes of prestige contributed to this marginalization. Prestige is social, hierarchical, and competitive. As such it is a concept that challenges the traditional paradigmatic divisions in international relations: it is too competitive and deterministic for most social approaches and too social and vague for more materialistic ones. As Larson, Paul, and Wohlforth (2013, 4) note, status and prestige “simply did not fit the field shaping debates of the 1980’s and 90’s.” Paradigmatically “orphaned,” the topic was largely abandoned until a rekindling of interest in recent years.
Four reasons explain the renewed interest in prestige in international relations. First, the decline in the salience of interparadigmatic wars in international relations theory has allowed for previously neglected issues to resurface.6 Instead of fortifying paradigmatic barricades, the literature is looking for theoretical bridges.7 The same qualities that led to earlier marginalization of prestige make it attractive for bridge-building purposes. Second, the emergence of China and of a wider set of aspiring powers (e.g., the BRIC countries) raises questions regarding the dynamics of a changing international hierarchy and consequently questions regarding status and prestige.8 The resulting literature, therefore, reflects a moment of transition both in world politics and in international relations theory.
Third, Lebow’s 2008 treatise on A Cultural Theory of International Relations offered an ambitious theoretical framework revolving around motivations such as honor, status, and prestige.9 The book calls for a reincorporation of these motivations, which Lebow’s typology labels as spirit, into contemporary international relations theory. The ambition of Lebow’s work underscores the relative paucity of extant literature on these topics and thus highlights the need for definitions, conceptualizations, and midrange theorizing for each of the spirit motivations.10 Hence, Lebow’s work created a salient space for theoretical development of spirit. Subsequent literature on status and prestige can be seen as part of Lebow’s influence.
Fourth, there is a parallel resurgence of interest in prestige in economics.11 Part of this interest is a result of the growing importance of behavioral economics, which tends to rely on insights from psychology and sociology (Diamond and Vartiainen 2007). At the same time, there is a sense of dissatisfaction with the explanatory power of many mainstream economic models following the 2007–2008 financial crisis. These models failed, according to
some critics, because they did not carve out space for basic human motivations. In addition, the increasing sophistication of the economist’s toolbox can also account for this resurgence. Modeling these motivations formally is often a complicated endeavor, and it becomes easier as the field develops methodologically.
As these trends conspire to draw renewed attention to the importance of prestige, this relatively nascent field still struggles to find a more coherent and distinguishable voice within international relations theory. As an aggregate, the literature on prestige in international relations tends to simultaneously aim too high and too low: when it aims too high, it claims to explain all international relations, especially patterns of conflict and war; when it aims too low, it ends up being the study of curiosities and anecdotes. The current literature, therefore, still vacillates over the demarcation of the scope and magnitude of prestige-seeking behavior in international relations. Some of these scope issues stem from deeper problems: there is still no widely accepted definition of prestige in international relations; the concept remains notoriously difficult to operationalize or measure; and there is no accepted conceptualization of the benefits of being prestigious.
Toward a Definition of Prestige
A useful conceptualization of prestige needs to incorporate three essential attributes: prestige is social, hierarchical, and positional.12 The social dimension differentiates prestige from power; the hierarchical dimension explains why prestige is such a lucrative (and hence expensive) commodity; the positional dimension is what makes the struggle for prestige so competitive. Analytically, prestige is an interesting yet slippery concept. It straddles the material and the social, the objective and the subjective. As such it is compatible with several theoretical paradigms but is truly at home in none.
To date, the literature lacks a widely accepted definition of prestige. When a definition is sought, the starting point is most often Morgenthau’s conceptualization of prestige as a reputation for power— a psychological image that actors hold regarding the power positions of other nations (Morgenthau [1947] 1960, 78). Similarly, Gilpin argued that “prestige is the reputation for power, and military power in particular. . . . Prestige, rather than power, is the everyday currency of international relations” (Gilpin 1981, 31, italics added). However, establishing prestige as a derivative
of power does not tell us much about the independent qualities of the concept. Prestige and power are not synonymous, and a change in one does not always translate into an equal change in the other (Kagan 1997). As Johnston (2001, 500) notes, many markers of prestige, such as medals or having your name on a plaque, do not offer clear material rewards. For prestige to be a meaningful concept we need to explore the independent components that differentiate it from power. In the absence of such differentiation, a power-centric and prestige-centric approach to international relations would be indistinguishable— it would matter little whether it were prestige or power that served as the “everyday currency of international relations.”13
Viewing prestige as a simple extension of power neglects an essential dimension. Prestige is a social concept; it requires a community, an audience, to be meaningful (McGinn 1972, 103). A “reputation for power,” be it a reflection of power or an illusion of power, needs to be shared by members of a community in order to be considered prestige. O’Neill (1999, 193) summarizes this aspect of prestige nicely: “Prestige means that everyone thinks that everyone thinks the person has the quality. Perhaps no one admires the person, but if each person thinks the rest do, that constitutes prestige. . . . Someone can gain prestige by convincing everyone that he or she has a good reputation— there is no need to possess the quality in question.”14 Consequently, prestige is a relational concept; it is not a monadic quality of the actor (Mercer 1996, 27). It describes a subjective reading of an intersubjective evaluation of an objective (yet potentially manipulated) quality.15 For actors to be able to guess other actors’ assessments and to navigate between the objective, subjective, and intersubjective, the group needs to have shared understanding as to what characteristics, possessions, and behaviors would signal desired qualities.
Prestige is not a neutral term that simply measures a quantity of power; it implies a level of approbation, a positive evaluation of the actor in question (McGinn 1972, 104).16 Collective approbation necessarily assumes the presence of a community. Functionalist sociological theories, for example, view prestige as a reward a society grants to actors whose actions provide societal benefits.17 As such, prestige includes a normative dimension: communities reward qualities they view as “good.” Actors need to anticipate what attributes are valued by members of their respective communities and to direct their behavior accordingly. Thus, in order for a stable system of prestige to be possible, we have to assume some level of intersubjective consciousness among members of the group. Consequently, an
understanding of prestige is in essence an investigation of social institutions. Indeed, the inclusion of prestige in international relations theory moves the analysis away from a purely material view of power and international hierarchy to a more social one.18 The amount of prestige held by each group member defines the hierarchy within the society; it is therefore an important ordering principle of social stratification. Prestige “is the relative esteem in which an individual is held in an ordered total system of differentiated evaluation” (Parsons 1952, 131–32; Wegener 1992). In this hierarchy of prestige, status denotes the ordinal position of actors. An actor that has higher status enjoys a greater endowment of prestige.19
Both terms are therefore highly positional. Positional goods are those in which “one individual’s forward move in the hierarchy can occur only at the expense of backward moves by others” (Frank 1985b, 108; 1985a).20
This is clearly the case for an ordinal concept such as status. The zerosum quality of positional goods creates an especially competitive environment. A social reading of international relations is therefore not necessarily more pacific. In fact, analysts have often connected competition for prestige with patterns of violence (Rousseau [1754] 1993; Hoffmann 1963; Galtung 1964; East 1972; Wallace 1971; Schweller 1999; Wohlforth 2009; Peterson 2002).
Thus, adopting a prestige-centric approach generates a hierarchical reading of international relations. Social hierarchy does not contradict international relations’ devotion to anarchy: “The international system is oligarchical (or hierarchic) precisely because it is an anarchic one, wherein might makes right and differences in power and wealth serve to perpetuate inequality rather than alleviate it” (Schweller 1999, 42). Instead of viewing anarchy and hierarchy as contradictory opposites, a theory of prestige forces us to examine the complementary interaction between institutional anarchy and social hierarchy (Donnelly 2009: 52; Lake 1996).
On Pride and Prestige
Why is prestige so desirable? If actors are willing to accept significant costs in an attempt to secure prestige, then the acquisition of prestige must provide them with sufficient returns to justify the expense. Yet the identification and certainly the quantification of these returns is problematic. Part of this difficulty stems from the nature of prestige. Prestige is a diffused form of power. It rarely operates within the context of a specific relationship, in a direct and immediate manner. Instead, the influence of
prestige is more subtle: it affects patterns of deference, structures actors’ preferences, and directs rules and norms of social institutions (Barnett and Duvall 2005b). Prestige can also affect the levels of significant psychological factors such as self-esteem (Maslow 1943). Through these processes prestige can produce significant psychological, social, and material benefits. However, because of the diffused nature of prestige, the immediacy of the relation between cause and effect is absent: prestige paybacks can occur years after the initial investment; they can come in small increments or in large installments; they can be paid by nearby observers or by unintended audiences; they can be objective or subjective. The establishment of causality in a diffused setting is challenging.
A somewhat circular reply to this conundrum comes from actors’ own behavior. Prestige matters if actors believe that it matters. A systematic recurrence of acts of conspicuous consumption tells us that actors indeed believe that prestige matters. However, the circularity of this argument is somewhat unsatisfactory. The fact that prestige-seeking actors believe that their behavior is likely to result in increased levels of prestige does not necessarily mean that they are correct. It might well be the case that prestige-seeking policies are a collective form of “chasing ghosts.” Hence, despite the challenges of diffused power, we need better elaboration of the benefits of prestige. The literature offers a plethora of mechanisms that identify prestige benefits. In mapping these arguments, it is useful to differentiate between objective prestige benefits and subjective ones, though both kinds matter.
From the objective side, prestige matters because prestigious actors are privy to tangible advantages. Prestige affects patterns of deference and responsiveness, regulates access to positions of influence, and shapes the distribution of material benefits (Lake 2009).21 A hierarchical system tends to transfer values from bottom to top, allowing the actors at top positions to get more than their “fair” shares. Galtung (1964, 97–98) notes that where there is stratification, there will also be exploitation. Such benefits make the top-dog position a very lucrative one. Accordingly, an investment in prestige is an investment in social capital that can be converted into material capital. Amassing such easily convertible capital, according to Bourdieu, is “the most valuable form of accumulation in a society” ([1977] 2003, 179–80, italics added).
The second approach focuses instead on actors’ subjective worlds. Prestige may be desired simply because it makes us feel good. Psychologists view esteem and recognition as an essential human need and even as
the “dominant motive of man” (Becker 1971, chap. 7; Maslow 1943).22 In Maslow’s (1943) famous hierarchy of needs, esteem is a “high need” that can be achieved only once the material preconditions for survival have been met. Accordingly, it is a desire that is not driven by a material necessity but rather by a psychological one.23 Similarly, Adam Smith ([1759] 1976, 61) viewed the desire to gain approbation as the main purpose of economic activity: “it is the vanity, not the ease, or the pleasure, which interests us.”24
A useful way to distinguish between objective and subjective benefits is through the distinction between prestige and pride. While prestige is generated through actors’ estimates of the approbative collective assessment of a third party, pride is produced through an assessment of their own social standing. Thus, I feel proud when I believe that everyone else believes that I am worthy of respect.25 The subjective benefits of prestige, therefore, operate through the generation of pride. While pride is subjective, it is still a social concept because it relies on a reading of the collective assessment of one’s community. As long as the feeling of pride provides sufficient subjective benefits to the actor, it can motivate and direct her behavior.
While the desire for prestige may motivate individuals, the question remains whether it can motivate groups. The extension of motivations such as prestige, honor, or emotion to a state, especially when analyzed as a unitary actor, runs the risk of anthropomorphism. This invokes the problem of aggregation, extending a theory from the individual level to that of the state or the international system, which plagues a broad swath of international relations theory. In the case of prestige, studies in social psychology provide a possible solution by showing the prevalence of prestige-seeking behavior not only among individuals but also across groups.
One of the most robust findings of social psychology is the recurrence of intergroup discrimination. Following the pioneering work of Henry Tajfel, repeated experiments demonstrate that actors tend to favor ingroup members and discriminate against outsiders. Tajfel and Turner (1986) developed social identity theory as an explanation for this discrimination, rooting the theory in individual desire to maximize self-esteem. One possible way to gain self-esteem is through identification with a group that compares favorably to others. Cialdini et al. (1976) describe this as “basking in reflected glory.”26 An individual gains prestige because she belongs to a respected group. Accordingly, group members have an incentive to discriminate against the out-group in the hope of improving
their group’s relative position, thus boosting their own self-esteem. Consequently, individual prestige seeking is mirrored by similar competition among groups (Mercer 1995, 241–43). Because in Tajfel’s experiments discrimination is a costly strategy, participants are showing a willingness to incur cost in an attempt to improve the prestige of their respective groups. Social identity theory views self-esteem as an end in and of itself. The desire for prestige is a means for generating pride. Therefore, if individuals gain pride through membership in a prestigious group, then, for a citizen, an improvement of her state’s relative position in the international hierarchy becomes a worthy goal regardless of whether it is accommodated by material gains. Megasports events such as the Olympic Games or the World Cup provide a good illustration of this point. The 2014 Winter Games in Sochi, for example, cost at least US$51 billion. The 2018 World Cup in Russia is expected to cost at least US$21 billion, though some estimates fear that this figure will double by the time of the games (Muller and Wolfe 2014, 2). The cost of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens increased Greek sovereign debt by about 2–3 percent. Many analysts argue that this financial deficit contributed directly to the outbreak of the Greek financial and economic crisis later in the decade (Panagitopoulou 2014). The exorbitant cost of such events raises important questions. Why would individuals in the hosting countries support such expense? Why would leaders of hosting countries (or cities) bid for such expensive events to begin with? Indeed, public opinion polls in Russia in the years leading to Sochi identified growing concerns regarding the advisability of the Russian investment in the games. However, once the games started, public support for the games galvanized, and respondents reported a sense of national pride (Wolfe 2015). Similarly, Kuper and Szymanski (2009) argue that leaders are aware that megasports events are not likely to generate significant economic returns. However, they claim that the games generate psychosocial returns in the form of public happiness and national pride (see also Nooij and Van den Berg 2013). Moreover, public polls in China following the 2008 Beijing Olympics demonstrate that this sense of pride is connected to international prestige. Respondents saw the games as an instrument for enhancing Chinese international reputation and for consolidating Chinese national identity. The expectation for private economic benefits was weaker and less significant (Ying, Kolstad, and Yang 2013).27
If public opinion on Sochi and Beijing is indicative of a more general approach to megaevents, it may offer an explanation for leaders’ preferences. Political leaders may choose to partake in such costly public
displays of consumption because such participation can boost their popularity through a sense of national pride. Yet this fails to explain citizens’ preferences. In many ways, this argument takes us full circle, back to the starting point of our discussion— in the absence of a theory of conspicuous consumption, it is difficult to explain why bewildering expenditure of public funds— for a sports event, a moon landing, or an aircraft carrier— would generate a frenzy of national pride. It is the combination of the domestic dynamics of social identity theory (especially through “basking in reflected glory”) and the international patterns of conspicuous consumption that generate this wave of national pride. These patterns of national pride are therefore not an alternative explanation but rather part and parcel of the dynamics of prestige in a group setting.
Some variants of social identity theory focus on member identification with the group as well as members’ willingness to partake in prosocial grouprelated activities. Kelman (1961) argues that groups that are perceived as successful generate higher levels of identification, leading members to experience the group’s successes and failures vicariously (Kagan 1958). Studies suggest that strong identification with a group is often correlated with voluntary participation in costly group-enhancing activities (Cialdini et al. 1976; Fisher and Wakefield 1988; Dutton, Dukerich, and Harquail 1994). As this theory predicts, respondents in Russia and in China report a greater sense of national identity during and after hosting their respective Olympic games (Wolfe 2015; Ying, Kolstad, and Yang 2013). Accordingly, if we apply the “basking in reflected glory” argument to international relations, we can expect a national group that enjoys high international prestige to benefit from a stronger and more cohesive sense of national identity and a greater level of good citizenship. Therefore, an investment in prestige-enhancing policies can be seen as a tool for enhancing in-group cohesion.28 In the case of Sochi, observers indeed saw the games as an instrument to promote a new sense of Russianness (Wolfe 2015).
Intergroup competition for prestige relies on the ability to compare and assess the relative prestige endowments of different actors (Festinger 1954). However, because prestige is a latent attribute, it can only be assessed indirectly. While we cannot measure prestige, we can anticipate how a prestigious actor may look and behave. Consequently, prestige can be vulnerable to deception. Actors can purchase the symbols of prestige without ever possessing the qualities they supposedly signal. Manipulation can occur through what Morgenthau calls “policies of prestige”— policies that seek to control and enhance an actor’s image (Morgenthau
[1947] 1960, 80). In fact, as O’Neill (1999, 193) points out, the word prestige originates from the Latin root praestare, meaning the creation of an illusion. Similarly, Jervis (1989, 10) labeled his study of image-enhancing policies the “theory of deception in international relations.” Observers are left with the task of sorting out which image-enhancing effort to believe and which to discount as trickery.
The establishment of a social hierarchy, therefore, involves an intricate signaling game. Because prestige is awarded by the community, all signals must be public, and conspicuous. Accordingly, social hierarchies are the result of a continuous process of public displays and communal assessments: “In order to gain and to hold the esteem of men it is not sufficient merely to possess wealth or power. The wealth or power must be put in evidence, for esteem is awarded only on evidence” (Veblen [1899] 1979, 36). The most readily available evidence, both for individuals and for states, is provided through acts of consumption.
Toward a Theory of Conspicuous Consumption
Consumption: Handicaps and Tastes
We do not often think of political choices in terms of consumption. Yet under scarcity, a decision to enact a policy, deploy an army, procure a weapon system, or dispatch an emissary carries tangible opportunity costs. The resources and political capital used in each of these decisions are consumed and cannot be used to “purchase” other policies. In almost all cases, states face multiple policy substitutes, several ways to spend their resources.29 By selecting a set of policies, states establish a particular consumption pattern. The decision to “consume” a certain policy is likely to be the result of a myriad of motivations. Normally, however, we would expect the policy choices of states to respond to the basic dynamics of supply and demand in the same way that consumers’ choices do.
The economic theory of demand, in its most classic form, predicts an inverse relationship between price and individuals’ willingness to purchase commodities, other things being equal. As prices fall consumers will buy more goods and vice versa. This is a common implicit assumption in political science as well. When faced with two policies offering a similar utility, we expect a rational decision maker to opt for the cheaper one. This assumption is so deeply engrained that it is maintained even in analyses that are not strictly formalized as rationalist. However, actors
do not always behave in this predictable way. In some cases, an increase in price may lead to an increase in demand, contradicting our intuitive understanding of rational behavior.
Indeed, why would a rational actor opt for an expensive good when a cheaper one would work just as well? This is the puzzle that motivates the analysis of conspicuous consumption. Veblen viewed conspicuous acts of consumption as public displays of one’s social standing. Once consumption is viewed as also involving a signal, then two differently priced goods no longer provide the actor with the same utility. If the actor benefits from this display, choosing the more expensive good may prove rational.
An example from zoology is instructive.30 Studies in zoology identify patterns of conspicuous and excessive displays among animals and plants.31 Yet excess in the animal kingdom seems to contradict the Darwinian logic of the survival of the fittest; the colorful peacock’s tail is a case in point. What kind of evolutionary advantage can such a heavy and visible tail provide? Zahavi and Zahavi (1997, 229) explain puzzling traits through the handicap principle
The handicap principle is a very simple idea: waste can make sense, because by wasting one proves conclusively that one has enough assets to waste and more. The investment— the waste itself— is just what makes this advertisement reliable.
The male peacock “accepts” a handicap by growing a costly resplendent tail and by parading it around despite its weight and visible colors. In the wild, when avoiding potential predators, such an exaggerated and burdensome tail can prove lethal. However, according to Zahavi and Zahavi’s model, what the peacock loses in agility is compensated through the use of the tail as an effective signal of fitness to prospective mates. In this, Zahavi and Zahavi’s handicap principle relies on the logic of costly signals that is also employed frequently by international relations theorists.32 Following this logic, wasteful handicaps are sound from an evolutionary perspective if they establish effective communication by enhancing the credibility of signals. A male peacock displaying a full and healthy tail signals his ability to survive and prosper even with the handicap of a large, heavy, and conspicuous appendage. He thus proves himself a worthy mate. In this manner, the handicap principle, which Zahavi and Zahavi see as a necessary companion to Darwin’s law of natural selection, encourages wasteful traits. Importantly, when dealing with social species, Zahavi and Zahavi
find that the handicap principle is tightly connected to issues of hierarchy and prestige (Zahavi and Zahavi 1997, 141–49). Extending the theory to anthropology, Alden and Blige Bird (2000) explain altruistic patterns of turtle hunting among the Meriam of the Torres Strait islands. Hunters who volunteer to supply turtle meat to community gatherings enjoy better marriage deals and are the only young men who feel secure enough to speak at tribal meetings.33 These hunters incur cost— a voluntary handicap— in terms of equipment, risk, and time. Through this investment they demonstrate their superior abilities and consequently gain respect and deference in return. In this case, prestige brings about tangible benefits but requires an investment of time, effort, and resources. Similarly, Sosis (2000) finds that among the fishermen of the Infaluk Atoll, canoe owners often deliberately adopt a suboptimal but conspicuous method of fishing, thus accepting a voluntary handicap as a means for gaining prestige.34
Similarly, when Brazil decides to buy a naval vessel, it has to calculate not only how such a purchase could satisfy its strategic needs but also what such a purchase would signal regarding its social standing. Thus, the purchase of an expensive, aging aircraft carrier is not necessarily directed at any regional adversary but is rather an attempt to broadcast Brazil’s improved social station.35 Brazil is accepting a voluntary handicap by parading a highly vulnerable vessel at great cost and with questionable strategic value. This is also true for Brazil’s costly voluntary choice to host the Olympic Games. As noted above, the games are an extravagant expenditure that demonstrates the host’s ability to organize and pay for grand public displays. Similarly, countries that seek leadership positions often need to accept a handicap. In a study of leadership in climate-change governance, for example, Van der Heijden and Moxnes (2013) find that wouldbe leaders had to adopt costly domestic carbon-reduction policies. This study demonstrates that leaders are more successful when they accept a heavier cost. In this sense, an aging aircraft carrier, playing host to the summer games, or accepting leadership positions in international governance are akin to the peacock’s tail: all are voluntary handicaps made explicable through the logic of costly signals. In fact, the more expensive, exclusive, ostentatious, and luxurious the handicap, the more effective the signal it sends. In all these cases, the actors signal that they have enough resources to satisfy their basic needs and to pay for luxuries.
At the extreme end, the most effective costly signals will involve an active destruction of one’s own property. Such examples do exist. In the Pacific Northwest, intertribal hierarchy was largely established through
extravagant potlatch feasts. Instead of fighting wars, competitions were played out when tribes demonstrated their status through a self-inflicted destruction of property:
Whole boxes of olanchen (candlefish) oil or whale oil are burnt, as are houses and thousands of blankets. The most valuable copper objects are broken and thrown into the water, in order to put down and “flatten” one’s rival. In this way one not only promotes oneself, but also one’s family, up the social scale.
(Mauss 1990, 37)
In this example, “fighting with property” became a substitute for war because it established a clear and indisputable hierarchy (Codere 1950). For outsiders, the meaning of this destruction was unclear. For the first Westerners to arrive at that region, the potlatch was a curious, wasteful, and irrational behavior that was to be discouraged and even banned (Fisher 1992, 206).36 This incommensurability between two cultures highlights the importance of understanding prestige as social and community based. What may be an incontrovertible signifier of prestige for one community may be unintelligible for another.
Thus, effective signaling is not a function of cost alone. The meaning depends not only on the magnitude of the actors’ consumption but also on the type of goods that they choose to consume and on the social setting in which the goods are consumed. Certain goods have categorical significance inasmuch as they help us to catalog actors into different classes and types. Hence, China can see the acquisition of a new aircraft carrier or the funding of an ambitious space program as means for claiming superpower status. Indeed, Bourdieu (1984, 376) observed that families from different classes often spend very similar amounts of money on food. However, an examination of the contents of their respective diets shows clear differences in tastes and preferences that correspond to class distinctions.37 In this example, it is taste rather than expense that distinguishes between the different actors. For Bourdieu, taste is an institution, cultivated and refined through repeated social interactions. Ultimately, taste acquires classifying significance that is central to the process of distinction. Similarly, actors in the international system may use their “taste,” as is manifested through their consumption choices, as an act of classification. In this way actors who wish to improve their standing in the international hierarchy may develop a “liking” for larger naval vessels, space programs, foreign interventions, or contributions to foreign aid. The same actors could have
just as easily chosen a “diet” consisting of higher teachers’ wages, investment in carbon-reduction measures, and universal health care. While the cost of these substitutes may be greater than the first set of options, they are less conspicuous and less “luxurious,” and thus for prestige-signaling purposes, they may be deemed less desirable despite their higher price.
The Utilities of Consumption
It is important to note that conspicuous consumption should not imply a complete lack of instrumental value. Even luxuries deliver some “functional” utility. Hence, an analysis of Veblen effects must distinguish between the primary and secondary utilities of consumption. The primary utility is derived as “a consequence of the direct service of the consumption to enhance life and well-being on the whole,” whereas the secondary utility is an “evidence or social confirmation of the consumer’s relative ability to pay” (Basman, Molina, and Slottje 1988, 531). The two utilities are in conflict with each other: one seeks to minimize cost while the other wants to increase it; one tries to maximize instrumentality while the other seeks to emphasize luxury and extravagance; one is inward looking while the other is directed at others. Thus, prestige considerations can overlap with considerations of security, deterrence, and welfare without being mutually exclusive. Veblen summarizes the overlap between these two dimensions of utility eloquently.
It is obviously not necessary that a given object or expenditure should be exclusively wasteful in order to come under the category of conspicuous waste. An article may be useful and wasteful both, and its utility to the consumer may be made up of use and waste in the most varying proportions. . It would be hazardous to assert that a useful purpose is ever absent from the utility of any article or any service, however obviously its prime purpose and chief element is conspicuous waste; and it would be only less hazardous to assert of any primarily useful product that the element of waste is in no way concerned in its value, immediately or remotely. (Veblen [1899] 1979, 100–101)
Every act of consumption is therefore driven by some combination of primary and secondary utility. This complementarity makes the distinction between these motivations murkier. It is hard to estimate the extent to which a policy is motivated by primary utility or by secondary utility. It is therefore a mistake to ask, for example, whether China’s space program is
a result of a strategic calculation or prestige-seeking behavior or whether Brazil’s aircraft carrier purchase is a result of domestic bureaucratic politics or the desire to enhance Brazilian prestige. The answer in most such cases would be both. Arguing that an individual purchased a Rolls Royce in order to commute to work is not an alternative to the assertion that the decision to opt for a Rolls Royce is also motivated by conspicuous consumption. Knowing that an actor needs a car in order to get to work still does not explain the choice of this particular vehicle. Similarly, stating that the Brazilian navy would always like more influence and resources does not explain why it opted to purchase a carrier rather than numerous smaller but more functional ships for the same amount of money. Just as it is difficult to explain the purchase of a Rolls Royce without a reference to conspicuous consumption, it is difficult to explain the choice of the Brazilian navy fully without a reference to structures of international prestige. An explanation of such decisions requires an exploration of both primary and secondary utilities. These are not alternatives but rather necessary complementary components of a full model of consumption. While both utilities play a role in every consumption decision, the balance between them changes across actors, time, and goods. Lebow, for example, distinguishes between honor-based societies (those that focus on secondary utility) and appetite-based societies (those that focus on primary utility). Broad cultural and temporal processes affect the transformation from one type of society to the other as the balance between primary- and secondary-utility shifts (Lebow 2008, 162–63). Veblen tries to identify the conditions under which secondary utility, “insolent pomp and cheating trickery” (Rousseau [1754] 1993) takes the upper hand. In particular, he argues, it was the establishment of property rights that enabled accumulation and thus set the stage for the emergence of conspicuous consumption.38 Other necessary conditions for the institutionalization of conspicuous consumption include routine exposure to war and access to resources that go beyond what subsistence economy produces (Veblen [1899] 1979, 7).39 If we accept Veblen’s characterization of the preconditions that tilt the balance in the direction of secondary utility, then the modern international state system clearly qualifies: it is exposed to war, it vigorously upholds property rights, and, for most states, it relies on a sophisticated market economy.
The balance between primary and secondary utilities varies not just across historical epochs, as Lebow and Veblen argue, but also across individuals. Some actors are more sensitive to prestige considerations than
others. Some of this variance may be due to personality differences between individuals (Frank 1985a). This psychological dimension is not easily applicable to international relations, however. Alternatively, differences in sensitivity to status considerations may stem from structural reasons, that is, the position of actors in the social hierarchy and the respective trajectories of their social mobility. Ceteris paribus, we would expect actors who experience status anxiety to assign greater value to secondary utility. A sudden decline or improvement in actors’ social fortunes can lead to such anxiety. Thus, for example, Suzuki (2008) finds that China’s and Japan’s adoption of prosocial policies— a form of conspicuous consumption— is driven by their position as “frustrated great powers.” Both countries are trying to use their consumption in order to alleviate their frustration with their international social standing.
If a good is consumed solely for its signaling value, it is considered a “pure Veblen good,” one that “contributes to the welfare of any one individual only in so far as it affects that individual’s relative consumption of the good; it provides no utility of its own accord” (Eaton and Eswaran 2009, 1088). Empirically, it is much easier to identify conspicuous consumption in cases that approximate “pure Veblen goods” when the primary utility is nonexistent, or virtually so. The Brazilian aircraft carrier may be such a case. While it is true that extreme cases offer the most compelling examples of conspicuous consumption, we must be careful not to discount the importance of secondary utility in a wider set of decisions where primary utility is still present.
Consumption Externalities: Bandwagoners, Snobs, and Conspicuous Consumers
When it comes to conspicuous consumption, an increase in price can become an advantage rather than a deterrent, contrary to the expectations of supply and demand. While most countries are able to afford small naval vessels, only a major power is able to purchase and maintain a carrier. Thus, the very fact that the carrier is expensive is part of its attraction. Morgenstern was among the first economists to formally acknowledge this shortcoming in demand theory: certain goods are more desirable as their price increases. He chose to tackle this anomaly by focusing on the problem of additivity of demand curves. In order to reach a collective demand curve for a certain good, we need to aggregate individual curves. However, as Morgenstern notes, individual curves are only additive if we
assume that they are independent of each other, that is, if we assume that actors are not in any way affected by the consumption decisions of others (Morgenstern 1948, 175; Liebenstein 1950, 183). If individual demand curves are interdependent, it becomes very difficult to estimate the general demand for a specific good. In the context of international relations, an assumption of independent demand curves is implausible. It would be akin to stating that the Athenian decision to build the Long Walls should have had no effect on the consumption patterns of Sparta, or that the American decision to invest in moon landing was completely independent of the Soviet space program.
Accordingly, the assumption of independence is especially problematic for international relations, where almost all key concepts and motivations are defined in relative terms. While welfare, wealth, and perhaps security can, to some extent, be defined in absolute terms, power, influence, and prestige cannot. Power, influence, and prestige are relational concepts; they cannot be measured or understood independently of other actors (Mercer 1996, 27; Baldwin 1980). Consequently, while economists, focusing on wealth and welfare, can by and large maintain the assumption of independence of demand curves for theoretical convenience, international relations theorists cannot. In the context of international relations, the assumption of independence is unacceptable even as a theoretical simplification because it defies the most basic principles of international relations theory. We cannot simply add individual utility curves in order to assess the overall demand for aircraft carriers or space programs, because actors’ consumption patterns are interdependent. Once we allow for interactions between individual demand curves, we need to be sensitive to a set of effects such interdependence is likely to introduce.
Interdependence of demand curves generates consumption externalities.40 Consumption externalities highlight the way in which one actor’s consumption decisions affect the consumption preferences of other actors. For example, if more Latin American countries decided to purchase aircraft carriers, the increase in aggregate demand for carriers in the region would have a negative effect on the utility Brazil gets from its carrier. Owning a carrier would no longer be a distinguishing mark of Brazil’s regional preeminence. Liebenstein (1950) formalized a typology of consumption externalities by differentiating between bandwagon, snob, and Veblen effects.
Bandwagon and snob effects refer to the ways in which individuals try either to join general consumption patterns by emulating them or to
separate themselves from these patterns by adopting unique tastes. For a bandwagoner, an increase in aggregate consumption of some good creates positive externalities, whereas for a snob, the externalities of wider consumption of a good are negative. When an item becomes fashionable, the bandwagoner is more likely to consume it. Conversely, the more fashionable an item becomes, the less appealing it is for the snob. Veblen effects refer to the aforementioned phenomena of conspicuous consumption. Here, the effect is driven by the price of the good rather than by the level of its aggregate consumption. Accordingly, Veblen effects look at the “extent to which the demand for a commodity is increased because it bears a higher rather than lower price tag” (Liebenstein 1950, 189).41
Brazil’s carrier purchase is an example of both snob and Veblen effects. The implications of a snob effect are quite straightforward. The purchase was attractive for Brazil because so few countries own carriers. Only ten other countries in the world, most of them major powers, own aircraft carriers.42 Moreover, the fact that Brazil would become the only country in Latin America to own a carrier made the purchase more salient and hence more attractive, especially after Argentina was forced to give up its old carrier because of the heavy operation and maintenance costs. The implications of a Veblen effect are less intuitive but equally important. A higher price point enhances the strength of the consumption signal. A Veblenian analysis thus suggests that the high cost of the carrier contributed to its attractiveness to Brazil. By and large, other things being equal, a higher price contributes to an item’s exclusivity and to its conspicuousness, making it more desirable. The combination of snob and Veblen effects made the carrier purchase an appealing target of conspicuous consumption for Brazil. More generally, price alone will not always suffice as an effective status signal unless it is accompanied by elements of the snob effect. Consequently, throughout this volume, the application of conspicuous consumption to international relations treats both effects in tandem.
Conspicuous consumption, as in the purchase of a luxury good rather than a necessity, almost always involves a dimension of waste. After all, there are cheaper ways to satisfy hunger than by eating caviar and more economical ways of commuting to work than driving a Rolls Royce. Veblen, therefore, alternates between the terms conspicuous consumption and conspicuous waste and uses them interchangeably. For him, it is the wasteful dimension of conspicuous consumption that turns it into a truly costly (and therefore credible) signal. This waste is akin to the voluntary handicap accepted by Zahavi and Zahavi’s peacock. For the peacock, the
investment in a resplendent tail guarantees a better selection of mates. This handicap, therefore, is not wholly wasteful, because it improves the ability of actors to signal their attributes credibly.
Pecuniary Emulation and Invidious Comparison
Veblen argues that consumption externalities produce two conflicting processes, pecuniary emulation and invidious comparison: “Members of the upper classes voluntarily incur costs to differentiate themselves from members of lower classes (invidious comparison) knowing that these costs must be large enough to discourage imitation ( pecuniary emulation)” (Bagwell and Bernheim 1996). Invidious comparison is one of the main motivations of the snob. Conversely, pecuniary emulation is the practice of those who try to “keep up with the Joneses.” The emulators will try to adopt the consumption patterns of the upper classes even if they have to compromise some necessities in the process. The result is neverending cycles of differentiation and emulation. The snob will consume luxury goods as a means of differentiation, which will automatically make them desirable for the Joneses despite, and sometimes because of, their questionable functional value. For those without sufficient means, pecuniary emulation can impose significant long-term costs. Canterbery (1999) describes this kind of ruinous overspending by an aspiring actor as the “Gatsby effect,” echoing Fitzgerald’s ([1925] 1995) famous novel. Snobs, therefore, have to overspend just enough in order to keep the emulators out of reach. The ruinous consequences of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens provide a good illustration of an international Gatsby effect.
A notable method for blocking emulators and enabling clearer distinctions of rank is through the establishments of exclusive clubs.43 Once effective membership restrictions are in place, clubs become a form of invidious comparison. Clubs can be formalized, as in the case of the United Nations’ Security Council or the G8, or they can be kept informal, as in the case of the aircraft carrier club. Whereas in the first two examples, institutional rules create effective restrictions on membership, the latter example relies on the prohibitive cost of aircraft carriers as a barrier to entry. Larson, Paul, and Wohlforth (2013) argue that club memberships create two types of status competitions. First, actors compete to gain membership in desired clubs. Once accepted, the competition continues within the club between members who strive to define in-club hierarchies. Stratification therefore exists both across clubs and within clubs. Clubs often create internal status
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Yorkshireman likes to be complimented on his foresight and good sense by an acknowledged expert.
“I wonder if he would paint my wife,” said Mr Crosby of the Foreign Office.
“You can ask him, my dear fellow,” said the expert.
“Would he want a stiff figure?” said Mr. Crosby, who had a very practical mind.
“It would cost you a cool thousand, I dare say,” said Cheriton, before Kendal could announce that it had cost him five hundred.
“Stiff, ain’t it, for an unknown man?” said Mr. Crosby.
“He is going to be the man, my dear fellow,” said Cheriton. “What do you say, Caroline? You have seen some of his work.”
“I agree with you, Cheriton,” said the flattered Caroline, who knew as much about pictures as Ponto did. “He has painted two of my nieces, and in my opinion they are excellent likenesses.”
“Have you two nieces, Caroline?” said the Marquis. “That is interesting. When are we to have the opportunity of seeing the other one?”
“Next season—perhaps.”
As yet there had been no formal announcement of Cheriton’s engagement, but it was known to many. It is true that those who were best acquainted with him maintained an attitude of incredulity So many times in the past had there been talk of entertaining at Cheriton House. Yet there was a consensus of opinion that he really meant to settle down at last; and while all disinterested people could not fail to admire his taste, the critical were a little inclined to doubt his wisdom. Still, there was no doubt about the beauty and the docility of his choice, and in her quaint way she had unmistakably the bel air. She was a good honest girl, a Wargrave, and the old woman of Hill Street could well afford to do something in the matter. Still, the knowing ones “could not see it at all”; those who were not so knowing thought that “Cheriton might have done worse.”
All the same, Miss Perry was famous and she was popular Her simplicity was something that was growing very rare; she was unaffectedly good to everybody, and everybody could not help being grateful to her for her goodness, because it sprang straight from the heart. No matter whether people were important or unimportant, it made no difference to her. Great beauty and an absolute friendliness which is extended to all, which keeps the same gracious smile for the odd man about the stables that it has for the wearer of the Garter, will go far towards the conquest of the world.
Miss Perry had conquered her world. All agreed that Cheriton had done well. Yet the creature was not in the least happy. So much practice, however, had the Wargraves had in the course of the centuries in dissembling their unhappiness and in offering their heads to the block, that only four persons were able to suspect that a brave, smiling, and bountiful exterior concealed a broken heart.
Jim Lascelles was one. He knew for certain. Miss Burden was another. Caroline Crewkerne was no believer in broken hearts. For one thing, she had never had a heart of any sort to break. But she had seen those great damp splotches on the correspondence with her father, she had noticed that the creature’s appetite was not what it was; and there were half a dozen other symptoms that enabled her to put two and two together. As for the fourth person, it was Cheriton himself. He was a man of immense practical sagacity. The Lascelles affair was perfectly familiar to him in all its bearings. He himself was primarily responsible for it. And none knew better than did he that youth will be served.
During Jim’s stay at Barne Moor, Cheriton went out of his way to show him consideration. He behaved like a habitually courteous and broad-minded man of the world, who, so to speak, knew the whole alphabet of life, and if necessary could repeat it backwards.
“You have no right to be here, my dear fellow,” he said tacitly to Jim Lascelles; “but since my Yorkshire friend, Kendal, has blundered, as one’s Yorkshire friends generally do, and you find yourself in the wrong galley, behave just as you would under ordinary circumstances, and, if you have the courage, take up the parable
more or less where you left it. After all, you were brought up together, and I am only an interloper, and an old one at that.”
It was bold and it was generous of Cheriton to take this course. But the young fellow Lascelles had behaved so well that he was bound to respect him. And he had a genuine liking for him too. Therefore he raised no objection to their spending long hours upon the moors with only one another for company, while he gossiped and shot birds, and fribbled and idled away his time indoors among more mature persons.
Still, it was trying Jim Lascelles somewhat highly The test was a severer one than perhaps Cheriton knew. For Jim was confident that he had only to speak the word for the Goose Girl to marry him by special license at Barne Moor parish church. Once, indeed, they found themselves in it, since the Goose Girl was by way of being a connoisseur in churches; and they had a pleasant and instructive conversation with the vicar.
However, all’s well that ends well, as Shakespeare informs us. Jim Lascelles did not obtain a special license, but returned to his mother like a good son and, shall we say, a man of honor. For it would have been such a fatally easy and natural thing to marry the Goose Girl at Barne Moor parish church. If you came to think about it, why should she be offered for sacrifice? Dickie, of course, would be able to go to Sandhurst, and Milly would be able to go to the boarding school; but all the same, it was desperately hard on the Goose Girl.
CHAPTER XXXIII
EVERYTHING FOR THE BEST IN THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS
JIM LASCELLES returned to Balham exactly nine days after he had left that friendly but uninspired suburb. He had worked hard during his absence in Yorkshire; the picture of the fair Priscilla had made excellent progress, and there was a check for five hundred pounds in prospect on completion. Further, by the interest and undoubted talent for commerce of his friend Lord Cheriton, Mr. Crosby of the Foreign Office had been induced to rise to seven hundred and fifty pounds for the portrait of Mrs. Crosby and her children.
So far as the things of this world were concerned, Jim really returned to his mother in high feather. The progress he was making in his profession he felt was out of all proportion to his talent. But it is a great thing to have a friend at court. So much is done in that way It is not always the best picture, or the best oratorio, or the best play, or the best novel that makes the most guineas in the market-square. It is one thing to create a masterpiece, and it is another to translate it into pounds, shillings, and pence. There can be no doubt that Jim Lascelles had made amazing strides in his art; but all the same, he was a lucky fellow to have a man like Cheriton to go round with a bell to call the attention of the picture-buying public to the quality of his work.
Jim Lascelles would have been less than human had he not been immensely grateful to Cheriton. And yet he would not have been human either had he not hated him very sorely After all, what is the use of material prosperity if the man who confers it upon you robs you of the only girl in the world you feel you will ever be able to marry? Certainly he would now have the means to buy his mother a new frock or so in order to deprive her of her favorite excuse for not
looking older But life, even with professional success, was going to be a hollow business.
However, Jim Lascelles contrived in this crisis to behave with a discretion that was very creditable to his character. He had gone down to the depths of late, and, as is often the case with such divers in deep seas, he had brought up a few pearls. One of these was resolution. He finished the picture of Priscilla out of hand and drew his check; and although the season was November, he paid several visits to Eaton Square and did his best for Mrs. Crosby and her youthful family. And ever and anon he took his courage in his hands and spent an hour in further devotion to the masterpiece that was to make him famous.
It was not until early in January that Jim Lascelles made the announcement to his patron that the portrait of Miss Perry was complete. Thereupon quite a number of people interested in art found their way to the Acacias. They were by no means unanimous in their opinion regarding its intrinsic merit, but they all agreed that it was bound to prove one of the sensations of the year.
“An extraordinarily clever fake,” said a critic of the fine arts privately.
“Mr. Lascelles,” said a dealer, “I should like you to give me an option on all the work you produce during the next five years. I feel sure I could sell it.”
“We have a new Gainsborough here,” said a third person, who spoke in an unofficial capacity, “and that is all there is to be said about it.”
About the end of the month Cheriton himself appeared, duly armed with expert opinion, to see for himself. He was accompanied by Miss Burden and his fiancée, who was looking thin and unhappy. It was a beautiful day for the time of year; and in regard to his appearance, the happy wooer was as fastidious as usual. Never had he seemed more faultless in his attire or more scrupulously paternal in his demeanor. He looked long at the masterpiece, and he looked particularly.
“Lascelles, my good fellow,” said he, “I am forced to arrive at one conclusion. If you were to paint a thousand pictures, this is
something you will never surpass.”
“Why do you think so?” said Jim.
“Because, my dear fellow, there is growth in it. You began it a callow stripling; you have finished it, shall I say, a strong man in the plenitude of his power. I have watched you and the picture grow together from month to month. It is given to no man to do that sort of thing twice.”
Jim Lascelles, however, was a robust young fellow—at least, it was his ideal to be so. He was apt to be on his guard against high-flown sentiment, yet he knew that Cheriton had spoken the truth.
“You are right,” he said simply. “That canvas has got all I have or all I ever shall have. I am older now than when I began it, and I hope I’m wiser.”
“Not wiser really, my dear fellow; we never get wiser. But you have found yourself. A great career lies before you.”
“You may be right,” said Jim, “or you may not be right, but either way it doesn’t matter.”
Cheriton inspected the young fellow with the greatest coolness and impartiality. There was no mistaking that the words were tragic. Cheriton’s penetration declared them to be so. He took some little time for reflection, and then he slowly drew a check out of his pocket-book with an air that was really unfathomable.
“There must be no misunderstanding, Lascelles,” said he, with an air that was brisk and businesslike. “There is every reason to believe that the picture of Miss Perry will prove a valuable property. But at the same time, I hold your promise that I may purchase it on my own terms. Is not that the case?”
“It is, Lord Cheriton,” said Jim, with indifference.
“I hope the bargain I drove with you may not prove too hard,” said Cheriton, with an enigmatic smile that Jim Lascelles took not the least pains to fathom. “But if I may say so, your conduct in allowing me to drive such a bargain was curiously injudicious. For everybody tells me that your picture is magnificent.”
“I don’t think it matters,” said Jim, who was looking tired. “Although one is glad you like it, of course.”
“It must always be pleasant to the artist to have his work admired. My own comment upon your work is this. I hope, my dear fellow, you will be able to forgive its extravagance.”
As he spoke he gave the check to Jim Lascelles. The painter, however, paid no heed to it at first. His instinct was to crush it in his hands and fling it away, so repugnant was the piece of paper to the touch. Now that the time had come to part with the sole remaining solace he possessed, he felt unable to yield it.
This, however, was a weakness he must not indulge. He looked at the paper perfunctorily, and then he gave a little exclamation. The check was made out in his favor for ten thousand pounds.
“I don’t understand,” said Jim. “Is there not some mistake?”
“You must constrain your modesty a little, that is all,” said Cheriton. “People tell me it will be worth every penny of this sum to the next generation. It is pleasant sometimes to anticipate the verdict of posterity.”
Jim Lascelles did not know how to act or what to say. In his judgment this was the most Quixotic proceeding he had ever encountered.
“Really, Lord Cheriton,” he said, “I don’t feel that there are sufficient grounds upon which I can accept such a sum as this.”
“A bargain is a bargain,” said Cheriton. “I hold your promise that I am to purchase the picture on my own terms.”
In the flood tide of his bewilderment Jim Lascelles had perforce to remain silent.
“Don’t forget, my dear Lascelles, that the highest pleasure that is given to any man is to adopt the role of Mæcenas. And are you aware that the Red House at Widdiford is in the market, and that six thousand pounds will purchase it?”
Jim flinched a little. A deep flush overspread his face. This was sacred ground, upon which it behoved the outside world to tread
warily
“I hope you don’t mean that the Red House at Widdiford means nothing to you?”
Jim was not proof against the assault.
“I’m not sure that it does,” he said miserably.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you.”
Jim began to look decidedly fierce. In spite of the check for ten thousand pounds, which he viewed as somewhat in the nature of a mockery, he showed no disposition to be baited.
“Perhaps it would be wise, Lord Cheriton, not to pursue the subject.”
Cheriton laughed outright at the solemnity of the young fellow’s manner.
“On the contrary,” said he, “one feels that the subject of the Red House at Widdiford should be discussed at length. Miss Perry and I have been over to look at the old place before completing the purchase.”
“Ah! that is interesting,” said Jim, who was more bewildered than ever.
“It seems that, in addition to its other lures, the Red House at Widdiford has peaches in season.”
“Of course it has,” said Jim, who was beginning to feel that Cheriton was making a rather long excursion in the realms of bad taste.
“Well, my dear fellow, I put it to you—what is the use of having peaches in season if one has not the appetite to eat them?”
“What, indeed!” said Jim.
“And again, my dear fellow—what, pray, is the use of giving Buszard a contract for the large size when cream buns lose their savor?”
Jim made no reply, but merely looked miserable.
“Let me tell you in confidence, Lascelles,” said his patron, in a becomingly low tone, “that even the circus has begun to pall. And as
for Joseph Wright of Derby, the question of his permanent merit is beginning to appear almost a matter of indifference. Do you feel competent to give advice in regard to what ought to be done?”
“I am afraid I don’t, Lord Cheriton,” said Jim, rather feebly.
“That is disappointing, for in the past you have shown such a surprising fertility of ideas and resources. The problem is so serious. Can one conceive a world in which cream buns have no savor, circuses no glamor, and in which the Joseph Wrights of Derby are allowed to ruffle it unquestioned among their betters? Frankly, the feat is beyond me, Lascelles. And then, too, my dear fellow, the news that Muffin is to have a new mauve from London to wear in the spring has excited hardly any enthusiasm.”
“Indeed?” said Jim.
“That is so, I assure you. And to my mind, that is not the least sinister symptom. I have conferred with the wise woman of Hill Street, and during my sojourn in the west country also with the presiding genius of Slocum Magna. And after some discussion of the pros and cons of the situation, for mon père and ma tante do not appear to see eye to eye in all things, we are at last in agreement that something ought to be done to restore the savor to the best confectionery, and also to insure that no upstart shall occupy without question the same kind of fauteuil as Rembrandt and Velasquez. The result of our deliberations is, my dear fellow, that we have come to the conclusion that you are the man to help us.”
“I!” said Jim, impotently
“Have you any objection to undertaking such a scheme of philanthropy?”
“If I could do anything to add to Miss Perry’s happiness,” said Jim, “I should be just about the proudest chap in the world.”
“Well, it seems, my dear fellow, that you can do so. At least, that is the opinion that has been arrived at by the experts who have communed over her case.”
Jim’s heart beat painfully.
“Tell me what I can do,” he said rather hoarsely, “for the best, the truest-hearted, the most absolutely genuine girl in the world.”
“You can marry her.”
“Marry her?” said Jim, weakly.
“Yes, in the afternoon of April the First, at Saint Sepulchre’s Church.”
“But——” said Jim.
“The oracle of Hill Street thinks the First of June is preferable, because there will be more people in town, and the presents are likely to be more numerous. But personally I agree with Mrs. Lascelles and mon père that April is as good a time as any other for visiting the Prado.”
“But——” said Jim.
“I forget the inn I stayed at when I was last at Madrid. It was ‘El’ Something, and for some obscure reason it had no aspirate. But one Ford is the authority for Spain, although, to be sure, a certain Borrow wrote a famous work upon the subject. By the way, we must not overlook one important argument in favor of June.”
“What is it?” said Jim, mechanically.
“It is hardly right to expect a new mauve to make its début on the First of April. Yet there seems no help for it. No ceremony could possibly be considered complete without it.”
“Am I to understand——?” said Jim, who stopped with ridiculous abruptness right in the middle of his question.
“By the way, my dear fellow, I have taken the liberty of suggesting to your accomplished mother that it might help her literary career if she moved a little nearer to the center. A little flat in Knightsbridge might be a judicious investment. As you may be aware, publishers as a race are highly susceptible, and an address in Knightsbridge might favorably impress them.”
“Do you think so?” said Jim, who did not know in the least what he was saying.
But there is really no reason to persist in this history In spite of scruples, which were as much due to pride as to generosity, Jim Lascelles married the Goose Girl at Saint Sepulchre’s Church on the First of April. On that significant occasion the presiding genius of Hill Street displayed an amount of Christian feeling which, in the opinion of a contemporary, was without parallel in his experience.
The entire family of Slocum Magna, including Milly, whose pigtail was the color of a yellow chrysanthemum, and was tied with a ribbon, came up to London and stayed a whole week at Morley’s Hotel. Among other things, they all went one day to see the Exhibition, and found there wasn’t one. Papa dined twice in Hill Street, and met dukes and people; and he brought back the report that Aunt Caroline was less worldly than he had feared she was. He gave his daughter away on the glorious First; and Muffin wore her new mauve on that occasion. In the opinion of all qualified persons it was quite as successful as the peerless original. Polly, who took after her papa, and had more intellect than all the rest of the family put together, Dickie and Doggo included, looked charmingly proper in a “costume” more reticent than Muffin’s. Her young man assisted the Dean of Dunstable, the uncle of the bride, in performing the ceremony.
Jim Lascelles and the Goose Girl spent a month in the land of Cervantes and Velasquez. They are living now at the Red House at Widdiford. Jim is quite likely to be elected to an Associateship of the Royal Academy before long. At least, he is getting very good prices for his work, and his “Miss Perry” has been esteemed a rare triumph for British art. His “Naiad” also, purchased by the Chantrey Bequest, has been generally and justly admired.
The accomplished mother of the rising artist took the disinterested advice of a well-wisher, and a fortnight after her son’s brilliant marriage—the Morning Mirror described it as such—she left “P.P.C.” cards on the Miss Champneys at the Chestnuts, and moved “nearer to the center.” It may have been coincidence, or it may have been cause and effect, but within a fortnight of her installation at No. 5, Beaufort Mansions, W., “The Fair Immortal” was accepted on a royalty by an eminent firm of publishers, and made its appearance in
the course of the summer It won such unanimous approval from the Press and the public, that it can now be purchased for sixpence of any self-respecting bookseller in the United Kingdom; its fortunate authoress has signed contracts for work for the next three years and has been elected a member of three of the best ladies’ clubs in the metropolis.
Muffin’s season at Hill Street was an even greater triumph than her sister’s—but thereby hangs a tale for a wet afternoon. Aunt Caroline, in spite of her advanced years, is worth “a good many dead ones” at present, and in the opinion of her oldest friend her manner has more amenity. Perhaps it is that the influence of youth has been a good one in her life. It is right to think so since there is no reason to believe that she has altered her opinion of the clergy.
Polly has not yet married her parson, but she is certain to do so. Serious people, however, “make haste slowly,” as the wise Italians say. It is well that they should. Charley has found his way to Sandhurst all right, and feels himself to be a field-marshal already. Dickie has lately been presented to a living worth eleven hundred a year—a really preposterous emolument, considering the widespread depression in things ecclesiastical. However, in justice to Dickie, it should be stated that he was always quietly confident that something would come of his left-arm bowling. And so it ought if you break both ways.
Milly has been two terms already at her Brighton boarding school. In the opinion of her mistresses she is the best inside right at hockey on the South Coast. If she is not chosen to play against Wales in the forthcoming international match she will be much disappointed.
Entertaining at Cheriton House is still to seek. The thing threatens to become a national scandal. Comparisons, highly unfavorable to the present peer, are being constantly drawn by convinced free-fooders and the praisers of past times. The noble earl, however, is fully occupied at present in steering a course between the Scylla of Hill Street on the one hand, and the Charybdis of No. 5, Beaufort Mansions on the other. The presiding genius of the former locality,
however, defines a coxcomb as a person who never means anything. Still, it doesn’t do to be too sure in these days.
As an instance of the need for honest doubt, George Betterton did not lead the fair Priscilla to the altar after all. The world understood that a religious difference was the rock which sundered them. Whether George had too little religion and Priscilla had too much, is one of those things that has never been elucidated clearly. But, beyond all shade of controversy, they were never brought to the question. Priscilla made quite a good marriage, all the same. As for George—well, what really happened to him is a story for one of those typical English afternoons in which it is really not fit for a dog to be out. People say that George is much improved lately.
In conclusion, we feel bound to record our opinion that it is gravely to be doubted whether Jim Lascelles will make as great a painter as Velasquez. Considering his youth, his attainments, and his temper, we were among those who predicted a high destiny for the young fellow, but that was before “the wicket rolled out so plumb.”
Authorities upon the subject are not slow to inform us, however, that it is better to marry the girl you want to, and to live at the Red House at Widdiford, and be a county magistrate, and to have a couple of expensive sons in the Services, and to have your girls dressed by Redfern and presented at Court, than to appear on a pedestal by public subscription in front of the National Gallery three centuries after you have ceased to take an interest in the verdict of posterity.
Quot homines tot sententiæ. These wiseacres may be right, or they may not be right. It is only the Caroline Crewkernes who are infallible.
THE
END
