The Theory of the Leisure Class: An Economic Study of Institutions

Chapter 6 delves into the logic behind people’s propensity to consume luxury goods that are not publicly visible, such as luxury undergarments or high-end kitchen utensils. These goods are all characterized by an inflated commercial value disproportionate to their serviceability, yet they are coveted because of their projected desirability. Whereas the previous chapter explored conspicuous expenditure as motivated by the desire to emulate the wealthy and project an image of decency, this chapter argues conspicuous consumption can also shape an individual’s taste—defined as an appreciation of beauty, utility, duty, fitness, or scientific truth. People spend money on private luxuries because they are conditioned to believe in the intrinsic worth of consuming: wealth is meritorious on its own, even when it is not used to project a public image.

Conspicuous waste is deeply moral in modern societies in which the right to own private property is sacrosanct. This is because wealth is traditionally considered meritorious and pecuniary spending is a mark of basic decency. This principle holds true even for thieves: those capable of swindling large amounts of money are more likely to escape high penalties than those who are less successful. Thieves who justify their actions by evoking their wives and children’s rights to live in a “decent” manner are more easily relatable.

Another type of decent private spending is what Veblen dubs “devout consumption,” defined as wasteful expenditure on religious worship. He notes that poorer neighborhoods tend to spend more on ornately decorating their spaces of worship than their own houses, even though these churches or sacred buildings do not directly contribute to people’s physical comfort. Devout consumption is therefore an extension of vicarious consumption, which dictates that any pecuniary spending should not bring comfort to the consumer but project an image of reputability for the master of that institution. For example, Veblen claims, services in older faiths become formulaic rather than substantive over time. They serve the same role as a footman to his master. The footman’s service is without substance, and by virtue of being wasteful, elevates the status of the master as wealthy, moral, and leisurely.

Pecuniary reputability—wasteful spending for the sake of appearing respectable— affects people’s standards of beauty and utility. Expensive items are generally considered more worthy and more beautiful, even if they are not proportionately practical. For example, a handcrafted spoon many times more expensive than a machine-made spoon may not produce a proportionate increase in utility, yet its price is justifiable because it conforms to a sense of beauty dictated by its high cost. Even if there is very little external difference between the machine-made and the handmade spoons, the latter, being more expensive, confers a type of beauty affected not by appearance but by monetary value.

Of course, objects can possess intrinsic beauty independent of their pecuniary worth. This is the case with precious stones and other rare minerals, which are considered intrinsically beautiful but also happen to be commercially valuable.

Veblen points out that it might not always be useful to distinguish between monetary worth and beauty, as the relationship can be reciprocal: beautiful expensive objects serve the primary function of conferring honor on the person who possesses them, and this, in turn, can heighten the perception of those objects’ beauty. Expensiveness itself becomes an attribute of beauty. In other words, for an item to be worthy of appreciation, it must possess both intrinsic aesthetic worth and commercial value.

Fashion is a prime example of the blending of expensiveness and beauty: A piece of clothing can be intrinsically pleasing to the eye, yet it must also confer a sense of respectability for it to be in fashion. If it is aesthetically pleasing but does not convey a sense of wealth, it is eschewed by high society. This is true of other consumables as well. For example, flowers that are inexpensive and common are often considered less beautiful than their rarer, more costly counterparts.

As industrial changes allow more people to access luxuries, the leisure class increasingly values commercial beauty over intrinsic aesthetic beauty. For example, private grounds might more easily be maintained by grazing cows than by human labor, but in pecuniary culture, using cows in that capacity is considered unsightly and demeaning. Similarly, domesticated animals that serve a lucrative purpose—such as cattle, fowl, and sheep—are considered less visually pleasing than animals that serve no monetary purpose—such as birds, cats, dogs, and show horses. The latter are beautiful because of their honorary status: their wastefulness imparts a sense of wealth to their owners. Veblen notes that pets, of course, can serve a purpose (cats catch mice, dogs aid in hunting), but their social worth lies primarily in their expensiveness—they cost a lot to purchase and maintain.

Veblen applies the same principle of pecuniary beauty to people. In “barbaric” societies in which a woman’s worth is measured by her labor, the standard of beauty is a “robust, large-limbed woman” (97). This is the case of women depicted in Homer’s poems. He describes their physiques much more than their facial features. Later, when women are prized for the leisure they represent, the ideal of female beauty shifts from robust to delicate: Women are prized if they have dainty hands and feet, delicate facial features, and slender waists. This is pushed to the extreme when women’s bodies are mutilated for the sake of projecting wealth: in 19th-century Western culture, for example, women are forced to constrict their waists, whereas in Chinese culture of the same period, they are expected to bind their feet. Veblen believes these practices are repulsive and unnatural, but habituation has conditioned men and women to value them as aesthetically pleasing. The consumer is not always aware of the connection between their sense of beauty and pecuniary reputability: they are led to believe certain truths through force of habit, i.e., a small waist or small feet are intrinsically beautiful, when in fact, society assigns beauty to physical features based on arbitrary trends. Veblen cites a proverb to summarize the connection people make between an object’s value and the value of the person who possesses it: “A cheap coat makes a cheap man” (104).

Veblen ends the chapter by discussing expensive items that offer no additional serviceability but derive their heightened value from high-quality workmanship in modern industrial communities. The additional effort put into producing artisanal or handmade goods, compared to machine-made items, is more valuable because it makes them less “common” than standardized goods. Consuming goods that are accessible to most people does not confer honor, whereas having the extra income to buy high-quality, small-batch items gives a person a sense of status. In sum, the law of conspicuous waste dictates that items that are more obviously wasteful ultimately are more likely to become valuable.