The Sum of Small Things: A Theory of the Aspirational Class Hardcover – May 23, 2017

I’m not clear there’s a deeper message that goes with this bookThe basic theme is that traditional conspicuous consumption has given its way to1. “Inconspicuous consumption” on expensive “moats” from the riff-raff that only the rich can spot each other engaging in, with examples ranging from clear nail polish to Ivy League education and better healthcare.2. “Conspicuous leisure” the poor cannot not dream of if they are to hold on to their less flexible jobs (example: breastfeeding, hitting the gym at lunchtime)3. Purchasing the fruits of “conspicuous production,” as best exemplified by the movement toward “authentic products” that cost a fortune to make because they deliver on some parameter the consumer fixates on. For example, specialty coffee (as opposed to still very expensive Starbucks), fixed-gear bikes, vinyl records, mechanical wristwatches etc.It’s never, not once, 100% clear if the author is bemoaning this change or merely documenting it as the current state of affairs. She does celebrate cities, however, and dedicates a chapter to them as the setting where these patterns of consumption were born.She also draws a distinction between the old conspicuous consumption, which was entered into by a proudly idle leisure class and the new forms of 21st century conspicuous consumption: the latter is squeezed into the heavy schedule of the “meritocracy” that earned its money through work and is often aimed toward ensuring that the privilege is passed on to its children.My summary of the book is as follows: the author and her PhD candidates have done TONS of work documenting consumption patterns of the 5 quintiles of the income distribution across time. The book is worth reading just to peruse those tables. I’m happy I bought it, basically. On the other hand, the analysis regarding the three “new” forms of consumption is a bit too facile for my taste. Rich people spend on all this stuff because they can. Period.Some of them (the author included) also do so because they mistakenly believe their offspring will get to run the world, provided they can send them to Princeton. That last assumption is so naive, you have to laugh. Trust me, I’m Greek. I’ve seen this play out in real time and pretty it ain’t.So my recommendation is the following: download the stats on which this book was based from the author’s sundry academic papers and reach for the work of Mark Greif. Greif does a ten times better job than Elizabeth Currid-Halkett of describing all these phenomena, for the simple reason that he does not sit on the fence; he truly hates all this baloney, as well he should.

Remarkable: This is a book that manages to pull together a huge amount of data, analyze it and draw conclusions from it that are both insightful and yet highly readable. The trick of course is to separate the "boring stuff" - all those statistical tables that occupy a huge part of the book - from the chapters interpreting the results of the analysis. Those chapters are given pride of place upfront; they are written in elegant English and filled with interesting anecdotes and observations that enliven the discourse and brings it home. Many people will recognize themselves in this portrait of a new class in America, that the author has aptly named "the aspirational class".The author often refers to Veblen's classic Theory of the Leisure Class, and rightly so. Veblen's book defined the Gilded Age, coining an unforgettable term for it: conspicuous consumption. Elizabeth Currid-Halkett's book is just as important for our times. It provides valuable insights that will make you understand what is happening to the middle class, and to the upper end of the middle class in particular. Not necessarily just the ultra rich, but more broadly, the well-off, those who have accumulated "cultural capital" (though that is something that only a good - and costly - education can give - yet such an education is not the exclusive monopoly of the ultra rich, families with middling income can manage it too).In short, the author makes you realize that today, it is no longer conspicuous but "intangibles", or inconspicuous consumption, that are class-defining.She argues that the new consumption patterns are "pernicious", that they ultimately will perpetuate and deepen class differences and inequality. Maybe. I am not convinced that is the case, because while some of the "consumption pattern" such as the investment in one's children's education might indeed lead to a continuation of the family in the upper reaches of society, other types of consumption have very different effects.For example, the fallout from preferring fair-trade coffee, organic food (that is pesticide and hormone-free) or artisanal products is just huge: And it is already visible in the revival of American manufacture (after a decades-long downward trend due to globalization and automation), which is, everyone knows, essentially based on the growth of small businesses (under 20 employees). And of course this kind of demand also underpins artisanal activities and organic agriculture around the world...These aspects however are not covered in the book, which makes sense: They are really beyond the scope of this (already large) volume of work. I am confident that the author will explore these aspects in another future work, she has already contributed deep insights in a recent paper prepared for the WEF (and available online). What we need now is a yet deeper look in this new class, which is essentially the tip of the iceberg, if you define the "iceberg" as the middle class itself. We need to know how it will evolve, will it get bigger? How will its tastes and "social consciousness" affect production in the US and abroad? These are all fascinating questions now that this book, with its brilliant definition of a new class, has opened the way for further investigation.

The latter half is relatively interesting if you're already sort of into this topic (if you are, the first half is utterly obvious and well-known, if you're new to this topic maybe some the content will feel interesting). Unfortunately, the writing is not great: it's extremely repetitive (in terms of overall structure, within paragraph structure, and even within sentence structure and word choice) making it sound like an unfortunate mix between condescending and unorganized. It gets better as the book progresses.

The book contains about 30 pages of interesting reading embedded in 200 pages of text. It adds small bits of new statistical data (displayed in very small-print graphs) which updates but does not fundamentally alter work done previously by dozens of others from Veblen to Robert Frank and David Brooks. The writing is clear but at times mind-numbingly repetitive. On the plus side there is some useful new terminology and some entertaining personal anecdotes (mostly about LA-based culture) but for anyone who follows recent adult cultural trends there is not much new here.

Dr Currid-Halkett manages to do something very difficult in "The Sum of Small Things"; getting the balance right between readability and academic rigour. At the heart of the book is a deep analysis of the consumption habits of Americans, looking at differences between income cohorts and over time, and using this data set to make meaningful conclusions about inequality, the rise of "inconspicuous consumption", and what these trends might mean for both the US and the wider global economy. But she also manages to make the topic extremely interesting (and sometimes amusing); there is a high degree of self-awareness in her writing and this is a relevant read both for those who see much of the "aspirational class" in themselves and for anyone wanting to understand the more general economic trends behind this that will affect us all.Overall I very much enjoyed this, and could see the thinking behind this being developed by Currid-Halkett in further ways in potential follow-ups; it would be interesting to dive into the public policy aspects of this in more detail, in particular with regard to Education.

Reasonably interesting but a bit repetitive and not too many take always for em.

The author shows convincing data about the gap between the elite and the rest of the population, but sound rather accusing of the rich who now, instead of investing into material elements (silver spoons, giant TVs, sports cars) now dare to invest into education and expensive food habits.Personally I find investing into Yale, kale or breast feeding a good choice, and if this becomes aspirational for the broader population, earth is a better place than one where people aspire to drive around in 400hp sports cars.Net - interesting facts, but no usable consclusions.

There are some detailed descriptions of anecdotal examples of human behavioral trends in this book, but the analysis is missing the point. It is wrong to describe the sum of these trends as “conspicuous production” (as opposed to conspicuous consumption). Consumer society led to humans no longer making their own lives, as in the past, but buying their lives ready made. The real trend is the réalisation that deep satisfaction derived from the slow and careful creation of ones own life, and of observing other humans creating. Sure, it may be a luxury to have the time to breastfeed my child, but the only people concerned are me, my child and her father. It’s not about showing off or status but about our own feelings. Same as when I bake a cake.

While at times the author sounds repetitive and you get lost in tables and charts, the overall idea the book tries to share with us is well worth the read.It will make you reconsider many aspects of how and why you spend your money.