<p>It is notorious that in their selection of serviceable goods in the retail
market purchasers are guided more by the finish and workmanship of the
goods than by any marks of substantial serviceability. Goods, in order to
sell, must have some appreciable amount of labor spent in giving them the
marks of decent expensiveness, in addition to what goes to give them
efficiency for the material use which they are to serve. This habit of
making obvious costliness a canon of serviceability of course acts to
enhance the aggregate cost of articles of consumption. It puts us on our
guard against cheapness by identifying merit in some degree with cost.
There is ordinarily a consistent effort on the part of the consumer to
obtain goods of the required serviceability at as advantageous a bargain
as may be; but the conventional requirement of obvious costliness, as a
voucher and a constituent of the serviceability of the goods, leads him to
reject as under grade such goods as do not contain a large element of
conspicuous waste.</p>
<p>It is to be added that a large share of those features of consumable goods
which figure in popular apprehension as marks of serviceability, and to
which reference is here had as elements of conspicuous waste, commend
themselves to the consumer also on other grounds than that of
expensiveness alone. They usually give evidence of skill and effective
workmanship, even if they do not contribute to the substantial
serviceability of the goods; and it is no doubt largely on some such
ground that any particular mark of honorific serviceability first comes
into vogue and afterward maintains its footing as a normal constituent
element of the worth of an article. A display of efficient workmanship is
pleasing simply as such, even where its remoter, for the time
unconsidered, outcome is futile. There is a gratification of the artistic
sense in the contemplation of skillful work. But it is also to be added
that no such evidence of skillful workmanship, or of ingenious and
effective adaptation of means to an end, will, in the long run, enjoy the
approbation of the modern civilized consumer unless it has the sanction of
the Canon of conspicuous waste.</p>
<p>The position here taken is enforced in a felicitous manner by the place
assigned in the economy of consumption to machine products. The point of
material difference between machine-made goods and the hand-wrought goods
which serve the same purposes is, ordinarily, that the former serve their
primary purpose more adequately. They are a more perfect product—show
a more perfect adaptation of means to end. This does not save them from
disesteem and deprecation, for they fall short under the test of honorific
waste. Hand labor is a more wasteful method of production; hence the goods
turned out by this method are more serviceable for the purpose of
pecuniary reputability; hence the marks of hand labor come to be
honorific, and the goods which exhibit these marks take rank as of higher
grade than the corresponding machine product. Commonly, if not invariably,
the honorific marks of hand labor are certain imperfections and
irregularities in the lines of the hand-wrought article, showing where the
workman has fallen short in the execution of the design. The ground of the
superiority of hand-wrought goods, therefore, is a certain margin of
crudeness. This margin must never be so wide as to show bungling
workmanship, since that would be evidence of low cost, nor so narrow as to
suggest the ideal precision attained only by the machine, for that would
be evidence of low cost.</p>
<p>The appreciation of those evidences of honorific crudeness to which
hand-wrought goods owe their superior worth and charm in the eyes of
well-bred people is a matter of nice discrimination. It requires training
and the formation of right habits of thought with respect to what may be
called the physiognomy of goods. Machine-made goods of daily use are often
admired and preferred precisely on account of their excessive perfection
by the vulgar and the underbred who have not given due thought to the
punctilios of elegant consumption. The ceremonial inferiority of machine
products goes to show that the perfection of skill and workmanship
embodied in any costly innovations in the finish of goods is not
sufficient of itself to secure them acceptance and permanent favor. The
innovation must have the support of the canon of conspicuous waste. Any
feature in the physiognomy of goods, however pleasing in itself, and
however well it may approve itself to the taste for effective work, will
not be tolerated if it proves obnoxious to this norm of pecuniary
reputability.</p>
<p>The ceremonial inferiority or uncleanness in consumable goods due to
"commonness," or in other words to their slight cost of production, has
been taken very seriously by many persons. The objection to machine
products is often formulated as an objection to the commonness of such
goods. What is common is within the (pecuniary) reach of many people. Its
consumption is therefore not honorific, since it does not serve the
purpose of a favorable invidious comparison with other consumers. Hence
the consumption, or even the sight of such goods, is inseparable from an
odious suggestion of the lower levels of human life, and one comes away
from their contemplation with a pervading sense of meanness that is
extremely distasteful and depressing to a person of sensibility. In
persons whose tastes assert themselves imperiously, and who have not the
gift, habit, or incentive to discriminate between the grounds of their
various judgments of taste, the deliverances of the sense of the honorific
coalesce with those of the sense of beauty and of the sense of
serviceability—in the manner already spoken of; the resulting
composite valuation serves as a judgment of the object's beauty or its
serviceability, according as the valuer's bias or interest inclines him to
apprehend the object in the one or the other of these aspects. It follows
not infrequently that the marks of cheapness or commonness are accepted as
definitive marks of artistic unfitness, and a code or schedule of
aesthetic proprieties on the one hand, and of aesthetic abominations on
the other, is constructed on this basis for guidance in questions of
taste.</p>
<p>As has already been pointed out, the cheap, and therefore indecorous,
articles of daily consumption in modern industrial communities are
commonly machine products; and the generic feature of the physiognomy of
machine-made goods as compared with the hand-wrought article is their
greater perfection in workmanship and greater accuracy in the detail
execution of the design. Hence it comes about that the visible
imperfections of the hand-wrought goods, being honorific, are accounted
marks of superiority in point of beauty, or serviceability, or both. Hence
has arisen that exaltation of the defective, of which John Ruskin and
William Morris were such eager spokesmen in their time; and on this ground
their propaganda of crudity and wasted effort has been taken up and
carried forward since their time. And hence also the propaganda for a
return to handicraft and household industry. So much of the work and
speculations of this group of men as fairly comes under the
characterization here given would have been impossible at a time when the
visibly more perfect goods were not the cheaper.</p>
<p>It is of course only as to the economic value of this school of aesthetic
teaching that anything is intended to be said or can be said here. What is
said is not to be taken in the sense of depreciation, but chiefly as a
characterization of the tendency of this teaching in its effect on
consumption and on the production of consumable goods.</p>
<p>The manner in which the bias of this growth of taste has worked itself out
in production is perhaps most cogently exemplified in the book manufacture
with which Morris busied himself during the later years of his life; but
what holds true of the work of the Kelmscott Press in an eminent degree,
holds true with but slightly abated force when applied to latter-day
artistic book-making generally—as to type, paper, illustration,
binding materials, and binder's work. The claims to excellence put forward
by the later products of the bookmaker's industry rest in some measure on
the degree of its approximation to the crudities of the time when the work
of book-making was a doubtful struggle with refractory materials carried
on by means of insufficient appliances. These products, since they require
hand labor, are more expensive; they are also less convenient for use than
the books turned out with a view to serviceability alone; they therefore
argue ability on the part of the purchaser to consume freely, as well as
ability to waste time and effort. It is on this basis that the printers of
today are returning to "old-style," and other more or less obsolete styles
of type which are less legible and give a cruder appearance to the page
than the "modern." Even a scientific periodical, with ostensibly no
purpose but the most effective presentation of matter with which its
science is concerned, will concede so much to the demands of this
pecuniary beauty as to publish its scientific discussions in oldstyle
type, on laid paper, and with uncut edges. But books which are not
ostensibly concerned with the effective presentation of their contents
alone, of course go farther in this direction. Here we have a somewhat
cruder type, printed on hand-laid, deckel-edged paper, with excessive
margins and uncut leaves, with bindings of a painstaking crudeness and
elaborate ineptitude. The Kelmscott Press reduced the matter to an
absurdity—as seen from the point of view of brute serviceability
alone—by issuing books for modern use, edited with the obsolete
spelling, printed in black-letter, and bound in limp vellum fitted with
thongs. As a further characteristic feature which fixes the economic place
of artistic book-making, there is the fact that these more elegant books
are, at their best, printed in limited editions. A limited edition is in
effect a guarantee—somewhat crude, it is true—that this book
is scarce and that it therefore is costly and lends pecuniary distinction
to its consumer.</p>
<p>The special attractiveness of these book-products to the book-buyer of
cultivated taste lies, of course, not in a conscious, naive recognition of
their costliness and superior clumsiness. Here, as in the parallel case of
the superiority of hand-wrought articles over machine products, the
conscious ground of preference is an intrinsic excellence imputed to the
costlier and more awkward article. The superior excellence imputed to the
book which imitates the products of antique and obsolete processes is
conceived to be chiefly a superior utility in the aesthetic respect; but
it is not unusual to find a well-bred book-lover insisting that the
clumsier product is also more serviceable as a vehicle of printed speech.
So far as regards the superior aesthetic value of the decadent book, the
chances are that the book-lover's contention has some ground. The book is
designed with an eye single to its beauty, and the result is commonly some
measure of success on the part of the designer. What is insisted on here,
however, is that the canon of taste under which the designer works is a
canon formed under the surveillance of the law of conspicuous waste, and
that this law acts selectively to eliminate any canon of taste that does
not conform to its demands. That is to say, while the decadent book may be
beautiful, the limits within which the designer may work are fixed by
requirements of a non-aesthetic kind. The product, if it is beautiful,
must also at the same time be costly and ill adapted to its ostensible
use. This mandatory canon of taste in the case of the book-designer,
however, is not shaped entirely by the law of waste in its first form; the
canon is to some extent shaped in conformity to that secondary expression
of the predatory temperament, veneration for the archaic or obsolete,
which in one of its special developments is called classicism. In
aesthetic theory it might be extremely difficult, if not quite
impracticable, to draw a line between the canon of classicism, or regard
for the archaic, and the canon of beauty. For the aesthetic purpose such a
distinction need scarcely be drawn, and indeed it need not exist. For a
theory of taste the expression of an accepted ideal of archaism, on
whatever basis it may have been accepted, is perhaps best rated as an
element of beauty; there need be no question of its legitimation. But for
the present purpose—for the purpose of determining what economic
grounds are present in the accepted canons of taste and what is their
significance for the distribution and consumption of goods—the
distinction is not similarly beside the point. The position of machine
products in the civilized scheme of consumption serves to point out the
nature of the relation which subsists between the canon of conspicuous
waste and the code of proprieties in consumption. Neither in matters of
art and taste proper, nor as regards the current sense of the
serviceability of goods, does this canon act as a principle of innovation
or initiative. It does not go into the future as a creative principle
which makes innovations and adds new items of consumption and new elements
of cost. The principle in question is, in a certain sense, a negative
rather than a positive law. It is a regulative rather than a creative
principle. It very rarely initiates or originates any usage or custom
directly. Its action is selective only. Conspicuous wastefulness does not
directly afford ground for variation and growth, but conformity to its
requirements is a condition to the survival of such innovations as may be
made on other grounds. In whatever way usages and customs and methods of
expenditure arise, they are all subject to the selective action of this
norm of reputability; and the degree in which they conform to its
requirements is a test of their fitness to survive in the competition with
other similar usages and customs. Other thing being equal, the more
obviously wasteful usage or method stands the better chance of survival
under this law. The law of conspicuous waste does not account for the
origin of variations, but only for the persistence of such forms as are
fit to survive under its dominance. It acts to conserve the fit, not to
originate the acceptable. Its office is to prove all things and to hold
fast that which is good for its purpose.</p>
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