The Follies of John Kenneth Galbraith

But, within the economics guild, Galbraith barely exists. Sure his name floats around in the waters here and there, but I have never met an economist who actually took him seriously.  Occasionally, I would see a reference to Galbraith’s claim that the function of advertising was to manufacture desires. Said reference was usually provided as a launching point to show that advertising does nothing of the kind.  

So, Galbraith was the non-economist’s economist and the economist’s non-economist.  I was never tempted to read him.

But, then the Library of America (Arbiter of Taste) published a volume of Galbraith.  Clearly the Universe was whispering in my ear, “Time to Read Galbraith.”  Who am I to argue with the Whisperings of the Universe?

In one way, Galbraith was exactly what I assumed he was—a rather sloppy and lousy economist.  My goodness, there it is, that Sasquatch of economics: an actual sighting of someone arguing post-Friedman that inflation is caused by wage demands, not that silly money stuff about which you may have heard.   

But, it turns out that Galbraith’s rather dated economics is a minor part of the argument as a whole; indeed, strip out the sloppy macroeconomic model, and The Affluent Society would be a vastly better book.

One way to read The Affluent Society is that it is merely Walden, Part 2.  

By the mid-20^th century, it was obvious: America was a very affluent society.  Indeed, the level of wealth in mid-20^th century America was staggeringly high by historical standards.  And, we are even more affluent now than we were when Galbraith was writing.  

As we have gained all this new wealth, we have all this new stuff.  Getting wealth and new stuff makes us happier, right?  So, surely we must all be in some sort of perpetual ecstasy these days.  

But, we aren’t.  Why?  “Among the many models of the good society, no one has urged the squirrel wheel.”  Yes, we want more wealth and better stuff, but there is always even newer and even better stuff on the horizon, so we are left with a perpetual feeling that we aren’t quite at the Stuff Frontier.  This breeds dissatisfaction.  Sure, I have a new iPhone, but that new iWatch sure seems even more Awesome.

At this point in the argument, Galbraith starts running into problems.  He doesn’t like the fact that we always want more.  He thinks we should be content with the basic necessities of life. But along comes The Corporation (insert shudder) which through Advertising (insert screams of terror) manufactures in us false desires for the things which they are producing.  Left to ourselves, we would have a different set of desires.  

And, what, pray tell, would that look like?  How exactly are our desires being corrupted?  “Houses; automobiles; the uncomplicated forms of alcohol, food and sexual enjoyment; sports; and movies require little prior preparation of the subject for the highest enjoyment.  A mass appeal is thus successful, and hence it is on these things that we find concentrated the main weight of modern want creation.”  Hmmm.  Something seems amiss in that there list of manufactured enjoyments.  

Ah, yes, he clears it up in the next sentence: “By contrast, more esoteric desires—music and fine arts, literary and scientific interests, and to some extent even travel—can normally be synthesized, if at all, only on the basis of a good deal of prior education.”  

If only we were all as enlightened as John Kenneth Galbraith to like the proper things, the things requiring a fine (preferably Ivy League) education, you know things like fine art and sophisticated forms of alcohol and sophisticated food, and, yes, even sophisticated sexual enjoyment (oh, JKG, how it would have been nice for you to have explained that one), if only we all had these educated tastes, then those corporations (shudder) and their advertising (terror) would not be so effective.

And, suddenly, the game is up.  Clearly that Advertising doesn’t seem to be working on dear old J. Kenneth Galbraith.  He sees right through it and enjoys his sophisticated pleasures.  That is because his desires are natural and not manufactured.  He likes Cognac and Mozart because it is natural to like Cognac and Mozart—all you need is a fine education. You, unenlightened Reader, like Beer and Football because corporations convinced you to like them.  And I, Your Humble Narrator, like cognac, beer, Mozart and football because…hmmm.  I am stuck there.

One way of looking at it: all our desires are manufactured.  Nobody is born liking Led Zeppelin or Drake.  Some people develop good taste and like the former; some don’t and like the latter.  Why?  Taste formation is a complicated thing.  But, it is not clear that our desires are any more manufactured in an age of television advertising than they were in the Dark Ages.  People liked decorative clothing long before corporations came along to tell them they should like them.

Another way to look at it: we have necessities: food and shelter.  But, once you have shelter from the rain, it is wrong to want insulation to keep you warm in winter?  Is it wrong to want air conditioning to keep you cool in the summer?  Is it wrong to want a man cave so you can put in a large screen TV and an epic audio system so you can watch football in a state of total immersion?  Nobody wanted any of those things before they were invented.  But, it sure is nice now that they are invented, even though I only have two of the three.  Is it bad that in idle moments I think I would be really nice to have the third?

Galbraith would surely say it is wrong, but that is because his preference set is quite different than mine.  You see, dear old JK Galbraith has a sophisticated set of preferences based on objective reality.  I am not exaggerating.  JKG knows that because of all those false wants, we spend too much on private goods (you know, things you buy for yourself) and not enough on public goods (you know, things the government buys for you).  

You aren’t allowed to disagree with JKG on that point, by the way: “This disparity between our flow of private and public goods and services is no matter of subjective judgement.”  If you think we aren’t underfunding public goods, you are a flat-earther.  It is objectively true.

Now that line of argument would be intriguing if John Kenneth Galbraith could actually stick to his argument.  But, he can’t.  You see: only some public goods are underfunded.  Military expenditures are overfunded.  Uh…  So, public goods that Galbraith wants more of are underfunded and public goods Galbraith wants less of are overfunded.  And Galbraith knows this because…well, because, he, unlike the rest of us who disagree with objective truth, sees through the attempt to manufacture false desires.

What genuinely puzzles me about Galbraith is how he is so certain that his own desires haven’t been manufactured.  How does he know he isn’t the deluded one and the people he thinks are deluded aren’t seeing clearly? 

In the end, The Affluent Society is a flawed book.  But flawed in a way that makes it eminently worth reading.  It makes you think.  That is high praise.  

Higher praise: I was faced with the choice on where to keep Galbraith’s book.  Does it belong in the economics section or the non-economics, nonfiction section of my library?  He now lives in the latter—this is very high praise.  Before reading him, I assumed he would be filed under economics and relegated to being a bad economics book.  But, the parts that are good in this book, the non-economics parts, are worthy enough of respect, that he got filed outside of economics.  I am not sure he would see that as praise, but it is.