Leggende romagnole, avventure metropolitane, suggestioni dal mondo e altre divagazioni in evoluzione pluriennale.
mercoledì, febbraio 19, 2014
giovedì, febbraio 13, 2014
sabato, febbraio 08, 2014
The E-Book and The Competing Network Effects
Issued on November the 6th, 2013
Course of Innovation on Cultural Industries - Final Essay
Master's Cultural Economics and Entrepreneurship
Erasmus University - Rotterdam, 2013-2014
Subititle:
Phases and Waves of Innovation in the Book Publishing Industry:
Insiders, Outsiders and Their Competing Strategies.
Introduction
This paper deals with the ongoing innovation in the book publishing industry. Combining empirical survey and aggregated statistical data about the EU and US market, the paper suggests that the ongoing process in the publishing industry is the second wave of the innovation that has already shocked the movie and music industries. Both outsiders and insiders are major incumbents and the competition revolves around alternative network effects: consistently with the established patterns, outsiders are the main innovators; insiders, however, seem to have embedded radical innovation as well.
In order to address the topic, the paper presents the following sections. (1) Section 1 reports an empirical online survey of the available formats and prices to purchase a popular book. (2) Section 2 summarizes the economic theory about the dynamics of innovation. (3) Section 3 introduces aggregated data about the US and EU book publishing industry, focusing on product differentiation, distribution channels, and industrial ecosystem. (4) Section 4 discusses the competition between outsiders and insiders in term of alternative network effect. (5) Section 5 brings in the determinants that could shape the ongoing innovation process and the next industry ecosystem.
Download the Essay on Google Drive
mercoledì, febbraio 05, 2014
Un pedone in periferia (per la sua bicicletta)
Uscito dalla doccia, guardai il tavolino all'altro angolo della stanza. Un rivolo d'acqua era uscito dal vaso che avevo innaffiato poco prima. La flebile corrente attraversava il tavolo fino all'angolo opposto. Il cellulare era al centro della pozza che si era formata: muto, come spento. Lo presi in mano, lo asciugai, ma nulla, andato.
Mi sedetti allora sul letto sorridendo. Sulla scrivania vicino al computer potevo vedere i biglietti da visita raccolti durante il giorno a Maastricht. Mentre fuori dalla finestra non c'era più la mia bicicletta. Rientrato alla stazione di Rotterdam, non l'avevo più trovata. Né la mia, né quella di chi viaggiava con me. Insieme eravamo andati alla vicina stazione di polizia. Pazienti, gli uomini di turno ci avevano dato un foglio sul deposito degli oggetti smarriti. Poteva essere che le nostre biciclette non fossero state rubate, ma rimosse dalla vigilanza della città. Nel caso, potevamo ritrovarle nel luogo indicato. Come, però, loro non lo sapevano. Affare del comune. Occorreva attendere lunedì.
Due giorni dopo, lunedì arrivò. Al numero dell'ufficio oggetti smarriti rispondeva una segreteria automatica in olandese. Inutilizzabile. Il volantino rimandava però a un sito web e a un indirizzo. Avevo tempo fino alle 16.30. Salii in metropolitana, la percorsi fino alla periferia nord ovest della città, fino quasi a Schiedam. Fuori dalla stazione un groviglio di cavalcavia, sottopassaggi, binari in uso e binari abbandonati. Mi incamminai. Una, due direzioni, poi infine quella giusta.
Essere un pedone in periferia crea disagio. Le strade sono piene di rumore, nessuno percorre il marciapiede. I detriti sotto le pareti dei ponti ricordano i telefilm americani. Un pilone diventa una barriera, allunga la tua marcia di alcune decine di metri. Il tempo scorreva. Mancavano solo quindici minuti alla chiusura del deposito.
Trovai la via, ma il numero era lontano. Dovevo ritornare nella direzione da cui venuto. Attraversai il grande ponte di nuovo. Alte porte a soffietto, gru, montacarichi, ruspe, camion: nessun uomo. I numeri scendevano ma il tempo passava. La via sembrava terminata, ma piegava a sinistra. Intravedevo l'inizio di quella successiva. Forse il deposito era stato spostato. Solo pochi minuti ancora. E dovevo fare solo una domanda. Molto probabilmente, la mia bicicletta non era lì. Era stata rubata. Un pomeriggio sprecato.
Dietro alla ringhiera verde, più lontano al centro del cortile, vidi allora un enorme gruppo di biciclette. Accelerai il passo. Nella facciata principale dell'edificio c'era il simbolo del comune di Rotterdam. Ero arrivato. L'orologio segnava le 16.29, gli impiegati uscivano.
Corsi all'ingresso. Sudato, sciarpa fuori posto, zaino a tracolla, mappa nelle mani. L'ultimo della fila mi chiede se mi può aiutare. Gli racconto la mia storia al volo, mi invita a entrare e chiude la porta dietro di sé. Accende il computer, cerca la data da me indicata, mi fa vedere le foto delle bici prelevate quel giorno. Una, no. Due, no. Tre, no. Quattro, aspetta, forse sì. La ingrandisce. E' lei. “Hai il lucchetto mi chiede?”. Ce l'ho. “Un documento?”. Anche. “La carta per pagare 20 euro”. Ci sono. “Il codice fiscale olandese?”. Solo a casa. “Fa lo stesso”, mi consola. Inserisce i mie dati e andiamo alla bici, parcheggiata in mezzo a centinaia di altre.
Poco dopo pedalo sotto il sole del tramonto sul canale di Delfshaven. Nel punto più bello, mi fermo, scendo dalla bici, la appoggio alla ringhiera e le chiedo scusa. Non la parcheggerò più in divieto di sosta. Non lascerò che la portino in mezzo a quella periferia meccanica e in mezzo a tutte quelle altre bici anonime. Mi ha già sostenuto per vari mesi sotto pioggia e sole. Merita rispetto.
Proseguo fino al mercato di Blaack. Compro un nuovo lucchetto per sostituire il vecchio reciso nella rimozione. La bancarella è sotto casa di un amico. Citofono. Mi invita a salire per una birra. Apre la porta, mi allunga la mano per un cinque e porge le condoglianze per la mia bici.
Sorrido. “Sono stato a Schiedam. Ho una storia da raccontarti” gli dico entrando.
Mi sedetti allora sul letto sorridendo. Sulla scrivania vicino al computer potevo vedere i biglietti da visita raccolti durante il giorno a Maastricht. Mentre fuori dalla finestra non c'era più la mia bicicletta. Rientrato alla stazione di Rotterdam, non l'avevo più trovata. Né la mia, né quella di chi viaggiava con me. Insieme eravamo andati alla vicina stazione di polizia. Pazienti, gli uomini di turno ci avevano dato un foglio sul deposito degli oggetti smarriti. Poteva essere che le nostre biciclette non fossero state rubate, ma rimosse dalla vigilanza della città. Nel caso, potevamo ritrovarle nel luogo indicato. Come, però, loro non lo sapevano. Affare del comune. Occorreva attendere lunedì.
Due giorni dopo, lunedì arrivò. Al numero dell'ufficio oggetti smarriti rispondeva una segreteria automatica in olandese. Inutilizzabile. Il volantino rimandava però a un sito web e a un indirizzo. Avevo tempo fino alle 16.30. Salii in metropolitana, la percorsi fino alla periferia nord ovest della città, fino quasi a Schiedam. Fuori dalla stazione un groviglio di cavalcavia, sottopassaggi, binari in uso e binari abbandonati. Mi incamminai. Una, due direzioni, poi infine quella giusta.
Essere un pedone in periferia crea disagio. Le strade sono piene di rumore, nessuno percorre il marciapiede. I detriti sotto le pareti dei ponti ricordano i telefilm americani. Un pilone diventa una barriera, allunga la tua marcia di alcune decine di metri. Il tempo scorreva. Mancavano solo quindici minuti alla chiusura del deposito.
Trovai la via, ma il numero era lontano. Dovevo ritornare nella direzione da cui venuto. Attraversai il grande ponte di nuovo. Alte porte a soffietto, gru, montacarichi, ruspe, camion: nessun uomo. I numeri scendevano ma il tempo passava. La via sembrava terminata, ma piegava a sinistra. Intravedevo l'inizio di quella successiva. Forse il deposito era stato spostato. Solo pochi minuti ancora. E dovevo fare solo una domanda. Molto probabilmente, la mia bicicletta non era lì. Era stata rubata. Un pomeriggio sprecato.
Dietro alla ringhiera verde, più lontano al centro del cortile, vidi allora un enorme gruppo di biciclette. Accelerai il passo. Nella facciata principale dell'edificio c'era il simbolo del comune di Rotterdam. Ero arrivato. L'orologio segnava le 16.29, gli impiegati uscivano.
Corsi all'ingresso. Sudato, sciarpa fuori posto, zaino a tracolla, mappa nelle mani. L'ultimo della fila mi chiede se mi può aiutare. Gli racconto la mia storia al volo, mi invita a entrare e chiude la porta dietro di sé. Accende il computer, cerca la data da me indicata, mi fa vedere le foto delle bici prelevate quel giorno. Una, no. Due, no. Tre, no. Quattro, aspetta, forse sì. La ingrandisce. E' lei. “Hai il lucchetto mi chiede?”. Ce l'ho. “Un documento?”. Anche. “La carta per pagare 20 euro”. Ci sono. “Il codice fiscale olandese?”. Solo a casa. “Fa lo stesso”, mi consola. Inserisce i mie dati e andiamo alla bici, parcheggiata in mezzo a centinaia di altre.
Poco dopo pedalo sotto il sole del tramonto sul canale di Delfshaven. Nel punto più bello, mi fermo, scendo dalla bici, la appoggio alla ringhiera e le chiedo scusa. Non la parcheggerò più in divieto di sosta. Non lascerò che la portino in mezzo a quella periferia meccanica e in mezzo a tutte quelle altre bici anonime. Mi ha già sostenuto per vari mesi sotto pioggia e sole. Merita rispetto.
Proseguo fino al mercato di Blaack. Compro un nuovo lucchetto per sostituire il vecchio reciso nella rimozione. La bancarella è sotto casa di un amico. Citofono. Mi invita a salire per una birra. Apre la porta, mi allunga la mano per un cinque e porge le condoglianze per la mia bici.
Sorrido. “Sono stato a Schiedam. Ho una storia da raccontarti” gli dico entrando.
martedì, febbraio 04, 2014
Rotterdam: Classic and Contemporary
domenica, gennaio 26, 2014
Lettera a un mese quasi terminato
Caro gennaio 2014,
mi farebbe piacere una tua nota per sapere come stai e che aria tira tra le pieghe delle tue date. Avrei una domanda per te, ma solo ora arrivo a fartela. Purtroppo in questi tuoi primi 26 giorni non ho potuto dedicarti troppa attenzione.
Niente di straordinario, ma sono stato impegnato a inventare scenari economici, descriverli secondo logica, verificare che la mia versione del mondo fosse al contempo consistente e originale rispetto a quella consolidata, e che il tutto – questa forse è la cosa più importante - fosse comprensibile a chi lo leggeva per la prima volta.
L'avevo fatto altre volte, hai ragione, ma mai così intensamente. Tali e tanti erano i concetti da gestire che mi sono visto obbligato a vivere solo in loro compagnia. Al mattino, al pomeriggio, di sera, di frequente anche la notte. E comunque sempre, non li abbandonavo mai. Non ho scritto una sola vera storia in senso narrativo, solo brevi saggi, ma ho vissuto per tre settimane come un vero scrittore fa. Quasi sempre solo, anche se in realtà solo non lo sono stato mai. Ero con le mie idee di fronte alla tastiera, ma vi parlavo anche quando passeggiavo lungo il canale di Ommoord, al super mercato, in bicicletta verso la biblioteca.
Anzi era in quei momenti a passeggio e in biciche il dialogo era più foriero. Chiacchieravo a volte alacremente con le mie idee, cercando di trattarle come persone adulte. Alcune mi alteravano. Le chiamavo, le invocavo, ma nulla, niente, maledette assenteiste. Spuntavano solo molto più tardi scompaginando tutti i giochi. Altre erano più presenti, ma metterle in ordine, metterle in pagina, altro caos. C'erano idee originali, che erano conclusioni nate, ma non ne volevano saper di lasciar spazio alle cugine che le tenevano in piedi. Alcune conclusioni infine le ho dovute abbandonare. Erano delle ottime punte ma non facevano squadra. Non mi collaboravano con l'introduzione. Non che tra l'introduzione e la conclusione fosse più semplice: trovare l'ordine giusto tra decine di paragrafi al centro è impresa titanica. A volte ti convinci di esserci riuscito, ma tornando indietro sul lavoro svolto ti rendi conto che non è così. Il lettore non ti capirebbe. E allora scaldi un caffè e riparti con le trattative.
Beh, insomma, gennaio, ora mi capisci. E scrivi di monumenti, e scrivi di moda, e scrivi di fondo europei, e pure di me stesso. Credimi, tutte le idee che ho dovuto mettere assieme erano un gregge troppo ampio per distrarsi. Ho dovuto fare come i pastori in transumanza. Dormire fianco fianco alla tastiera per non lasciare per strada neppure un'intuizione.
Nel mio viaggio, ho avuto giusto il tempo di una dolcezza, una condoglianza, un po' di calore per gli amici. Di tutto questo, molto di più ne sarebbe servito. Lo so, lo so, scrivendo di me stesso mi sono promesso di migliorare, ma non sempre è così facile ricacciare dentro la rabbia che ti esplode al momento sbagliato o calare al momento giusto la parola di supporto che poi ti fa compagnia con quando ormai è già tardi.
Comunque non era degli altri, ma di te che in questa lettera si doveva parlare. Ti scrivevo per un consiglio, in verità. Da dentro la storia, non riesco a leggere bene la trama. Forse tu, che sei di passaggio, hai le idee più chiare. Quand'è che interpreto meglio il mio personaggio? Quando, solitario, sgranocchio un pomodorino scondito tra i fogli in disordine di una storia che nasce, o quando, saltando di qua e di là, mi tuffo più vivacemente nella vita perdendo tempo in chiacchiere?
Non fare l'offeso, per favore, per il tempo trascorso. Mio caro gennaio, oggi è il 26, abbiamo dunque ancora alcuni giorni davanti a noi. No, no, non te li posso dedicare tutti, ma il tempo per ascoltare un consiglio, me lo ritaglio comunque. E' utile. A partire da tuo fratello febbraio e poi, basta un anno solo, è il tuo gemellino 2015 sarà tra noi. Vorrei agire al meglio in loro presenza.
Niente di straordinario, ma sono stato impegnato a inventare scenari economici, descriverli secondo logica, verificare che la mia versione del mondo fosse al contempo consistente e originale rispetto a quella consolidata, e che il tutto – questa forse è la cosa più importante - fosse comprensibile a chi lo leggeva per la prima volta.
L'avevo fatto altre volte, hai ragione, ma mai così intensamente. Tali e tanti erano i concetti da gestire che mi sono visto obbligato a vivere solo in loro compagnia. Al mattino, al pomeriggio, di sera, di frequente anche la notte. E comunque sempre, non li abbandonavo mai. Non ho scritto una sola vera storia in senso narrativo, solo brevi saggi, ma ho vissuto per tre settimane come un vero scrittore fa. Quasi sempre solo, anche se in realtà solo non lo sono stato mai. Ero con le mie idee di fronte alla tastiera, ma vi parlavo anche quando passeggiavo lungo il canale di Ommoord, al super mercato, in bicicletta verso la biblioteca.
Anzi era in quei momenti a passeggio e in biciche il dialogo era più foriero. Chiacchieravo a volte alacremente con le mie idee, cercando di trattarle come persone adulte. Alcune mi alteravano. Le chiamavo, le invocavo, ma nulla, niente, maledette assenteiste. Spuntavano solo molto più tardi scompaginando tutti i giochi. Altre erano più presenti, ma metterle in ordine, metterle in pagina, altro caos. C'erano idee originali, che erano conclusioni nate, ma non ne volevano saper di lasciar spazio alle cugine che le tenevano in piedi. Alcune conclusioni infine le ho dovute abbandonare. Erano delle ottime punte ma non facevano squadra. Non mi collaboravano con l'introduzione. Non che tra l'introduzione e la conclusione fosse più semplice: trovare l'ordine giusto tra decine di paragrafi al centro è impresa titanica. A volte ti convinci di esserci riuscito, ma tornando indietro sul lavoro svolto ti rendi conto che non è così. Il lettore non ti capirebbe. E allora scaldi un caffè e riparti con le trattative.
Beh, insomma, gennaio, ora mi capisci. E scrivi di monumenti, e scrivi di moda, e scrivi di fondo europei, e pure di me stesso. Credimi, tutte le idee che ho dovuto mettere assieme erano un gregge troppo ampio per distrarsi. Ho dovuto fare come i pastori in transumanza. Dormire fianco fianco alla tastiera per non lasciare per strada neppure un'intuizione.
Nel mio viaggio, ho avuto giusto il tempo di una dolcezza, una condoglianza, un po' di calore per gli amici. Di tutto questo, molto di più ne sarebbe servito. Lo so, lo so, scrivendo di me stesso mi sono promesso di migliorare, ma non sempre è così facile ricacciare dentro la rabbia che ti esplode al momento sbagliato o calare al momento giusto la parola di supporto che poi ti fa compagnia con quando ormai è già tardi.
Comunque non era degli altri, ma di te che in questa lettera si doveva parlare. Ti scrivevo per un consiglio, in verità. Da dentro la storia, non riesco a leggere bene la trama. Forse tu, che sei di passaggio, hai le idee più chiare. Quand'è che interpreto meglio il mio personaggio? Quando, solitario, sgranocchio un pomodorino scondito tra i fogli in disordine di una storia che nasce, o quando, saltando di qua e di là, mi tuffo più vivacemente nella vita perdendo tempo in chiacchiere?
Non fare l'offeso, per favore, per il tempo trascorso. Mio caro gennaio, oggi è il 26, abbiamo dunque ancora alcuni giorni davanti a noi. No, no, non te li posso dedicare tutti, ma il tempo per ascoltare un consiglio, me lo ritaglio comunque. E' utile. A partire da tuo fratello febbraio e poi, basta un anno solo, è il tuo gemellino 2015 sarà tra noi. Vorrei agire al meglio in loro presenza.
venerdì, dicembre 27, 2013
giovedì, dicembre 26, 2013
Il colletto della giacca
Seduto di fronte alla fontana della sua vecchia città, attendeva l'arrivo degli amici da alcuni minuti. Si era alzato il colletto della giacca. Un po' per il vento freddo che a tratti soffiava, un po' per sentirsi protetto. Aspettava l'incontro con un po' di trepidazione. Aveva paura di dover parlare troppo.
La vera amicizia è come un esame ben riuscito: funziona quando lo studente ruba le parole al professore, salta su ogni argomento che sente suo, e lo espande. E' su quel filo che corre l'intimità. Un disco che ne richiama un altro, un luogo che ne trascina con sé mille ancora, un profumo che si ricorda insieme, un momento così condiviso che basta accennarlo per riviverlo. Si vede subito quando veri amici parlano: gli altri capiscono poco o nulla, non condividono il grande mondo a cui le piccole parole rimandano.
Col colletto alzato, si proteggeva dal freddo. Forse, avvolto nel suo nuovo mondo, aveva perso qualcosa di importante. Lontano, arrivano i grandi problemi o i grandi successi, ma non quella piccola serie di eventi quotidiani che spostano gli equilibri, cambiano le abitudini, mutano il linguaggio, riposizionano i confini di ciò che si dà per scontato.
“Allora”, sentì pronunciare assieme a un nomignolo che non sentiva da tempo e a una presa in giro sempre buona, perché legata a un difetto vero.
“Andiamo dentro” disse in risposta. Schernendosi dell'ultima bordata di vento che gli scompigliava i capelli, abbassò il colletto della giacca ed entrò assieme agli altri.
La vera amicizia è come un esame ben riuscito: funziona quando lo studente ruba le parole al professore, salta su ogni argomento che sente suo, e lo espande. E' su quel filo che corre l'intimità. Un disco che ne richiama un altro, un luogo che ne trascina con sé mille ancora, un profumo che si ricorda insieme, un momento così condiviso che basta accennarlo per riviverlo. Si vede subito quando veri amici parlano: gli altri capiscono poco o nulla, non condividono il grande mondo a cui le piccole parole rimandano.
Col colletto alzato, si proteggeva dal freddo. Forse, avvolto nel suo nuovo mondo, aveva perso qualcosa di importante. Lontano, arrivano i grandi problemi o i grandi successi, ma non quella piccola serie di eventi quotidiani che spostano gli equilibri, cambiano le abitudini, mutano il linguaggio, riposizionano i confini di ciò che si dà per scontato.
“Allora”, sentì pronunciare assieme a un nomignolo che non sentiva da tempo e a una presa in giro sempre buona, perché legata a un difetto vero.
“Andiamo dentro” disse in risposta. Schernendosi dell'ultima bordata di vento che gli scompigliava i capelli, abbassò il colletto della giacca ed entrò assieme agli altri.
martedì, dicembre 24, 2013
2014. Perfect seed is being there: paths and crossroads
Quante scoperte in questo 2013: grazie davvero a chi mi ha lasciato andare e a chi mi ha accolto. E per il 2014, magari le scoperte saranno ancora di più. Nuove bivi, strade, percorsi, prospettive. I miei auguri vi arrivano con una massima del mio “gabbiano preferito” e alcune mie immagini del mondo, nei luoghi che più mi hanno ispirato percorsi e alternative.
--- ENG--
So many discoveries in this 2013: thanks to those who let me go and to those who has welcome me. And 2014 will maybe bring in even more challenges. New crossroads, new paths, routes, and perspectives. My best wishes come together with a saying of my favorite seagull Jonathan and a few pics of my pictures of the world, in those spots that have most inspired me for journeys and alternatives.
---
---
--- ENG--
So many discoveries in this 2013: thanks to those who let me go and to those who has welcome me. And 2014 will maybe bring in even more challenges. New crossroads, new paths, routes, and perspectives. My best wishes come together with a saying of my favorite seagull Jonathan and a few pics of my pictures of the world, in those spots that have most inspired me for journeys and alternatives.
---
“Heaven is not a place, and it is not a time. Heaven is being perfect. And that isn't flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn't have limits.
Perfect speed, my son, is being there.”
Perfect speed, my son, is being there.”
(Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull)
| Algeria: Algeri |
| Italia: foreste di Camaldoli |
| Francia: spiaggia di Saint Marie de la Mer |
| Marocco: grotta "Africa" di Cape Spartel |
| India: piantagioni di cocco di Cochi |
| Edinburgo: Botanic Garden |
| Italia: campagne di Ravenna |
![]() |
| Italia: Colline di Romagna |
| Italia: Monti Sibillini |
| Egitto: Sinai |
| Italia: Su Tempiesu |
| Australia: Ayers Rock |
lunedì, dicembre 23, 2013
lunedì, dicembre 16, 2013
mercoledì, novembre 27, 2013
High Culture: Enclaving Art out of the Commodity-State
Issued on October the 30th
Class of Cultural Economics: Theory - Final Essay
Master in Cultural Economics and Entrepreneurship 2013-14
Erasmus University of Rotterdam
Erasmus University of Rotterdam
From the Rational Approach to the Value Based Approach.
Discourses about High Culture and Their Relevance to Economics
Introduction This paper claims that when people talk about high culture they reinforce a social practice aimed at enclaving art out of the commodity-state. The discourse practice about high culture affects the interaction between economics and the arts. Therefore, the distinction between high and low culture is still relevant in cultural economics.
In order to address the topic, the paper first recalls the shift between the rational approach and the value-based approach to cultural economics. The rational approach regards as irrelevant the distinction between high and low culture, preference formation being out of the scope of economics. Cultural economics, though, has gradually questioned the assumption of stable preference structure, along with the standard theory of value. A value-based approach has consequently entered cultural economics as an alternative.
In the value-based approach, people do not maximize their utility, but realize their values. Rather than invest economic capital to acquire commodities out of market exchanges, people employ their cultural capital to share artistic goods in their social networks with friends, colleagues and artists. These social networks and the relevant social practices can be captured applying the metaphor of the conversation.
Within the artistic conversation, people currently reinforce the distinction between high and low culture. The distinction has an economic impact: High culture has restricted access to the commodity state, while low culture is free to enter the market as standard goods. Economic decisions follow accordingly, such as public funds allocation. The distinction between high and low culture is therefore relevant in cultural economics.
Standard Economic Approach and Methodological Individualism
In standard economics, the market is a social system that matches sellers, who offer goods and services in return for a payment, and buyers, who want to purchase desired items by paying for them(1). Price mechanism informs the interaction, as a combination of quantity of goods provided by suppliers and the willingness to pay of customers. Market exchanges take place, since both suppliers and customers have their incentives. Suppliers want to maximize profits. Customers desire to get the highest utility depending on their income and taste.
Standard economics, to sum up, assumes tastes and preferences as given inputs and theory does not deal with taste and preference formation. Rushton states that the neoclassical rational approach to economics is based on methodological individualism:
“Both rights-based liberal theories of ethics and the economists’ welfare economics involve trying to construct ethical systems as something rational, here meaning not the opposite of irrational, but rather a system independent of the culture, traditions, and personalities of the individuals who would live in such a world” (Rushton, 1999, p. 139-140).
Supply, demand, price mechanism, constraints, incentives, and markets are recurring topics in cultural economics:
Standard economics, to sum up, assumes tastes and preferences as given inputs and theory does not deal with taste and preference formation. Rushton states that the neoclassical rational approach to economics is based on methodological individualism:
“Both rights-based liberal theories of ethics and the economists’ welfare economics involve trying to construct ethical systems as something rational, here meaning not the opposite of irrational, but rather a system independent of the culture, traditions, and personalities of the individuals who would live in such a world” (Rushton, 1999, p. 139-140).
Supply, demand, price mechanism, constraints, incentives, and markets are recurring topics in cultural economics:
“What all economists do agree on is that cultural goods and services are economic goods. (…) These considerations alone make the case for an economic analysis of the production and consumption of cultural products and naturally lead to questions about what determines supply, demand and prices; in other words, we need to understand how market forces operate in the cultural sector” (Towse, 2010, p. 52).
The standard economic approach was in use when cultural economics was established as a discipline in 1966. At the time Baumol and Bowen (Baumol & Bowen, 1966) described the cost disease of the performing arts, showing that artistic labor benefited less than non-artistic labor of technological gain.
The standard economic approach, furthermore, is still commonly used by contemporary scholars. Frey, for example, supports the model as a powerful tool to capture the demand and the supply of the arts (Frey, 2003). Frey just transcends orthodoxy to include institutional constraints and psychological aspects. Institutional constraints arise in the interaction between different artistic organizations or between artistic organizations and public institutions allocating subsidies. Consumers' anomalies come with the so called “endowment effect”, ie for example when the owner of a painting is so tied up with the piece of art that she/he is not willing to sell it anymore. Producers' anomalies come when artists are willing to create even when little or no economic return is expected.
Though Frey admits that institutional and psychological inputs inform the cultural market, his analysis sticks to standard terms. For example, he considers an artist relevant for cultural economics as long as he gains from the arts a high share of his income. Economic capital and market interactions turn out to be the relevant issues. Frey concludes his personal view on the economic approach to culture as follows:
“It has been argued that the economics of the art would profit from going beyond the well-trodden paths, and integrating knowledge from the other social sciences, in particular psychology. This gives us the opportunity of understanding even better how human beings behave with respect to the arts. The economics of art has dealt with a large number of different issues and subjects. (…) But one of the most important aspects has been the relationship between culture and the market”.
The market, though, does not seem to be the social system where the core of cultural value is traded. Scholars have thus criticized the rational approach and fostered new approaches to cultural economics.
Cultural Economics and Critics of Methodological Individualism
Cultural economics has increasingly questioned methodological individualism and the standard economic theory of value. Scholars have proposed an interdisciplinary approach to account for specific feature of cultural goods, such as taste formation and non-economic values.
Blaugh, in his review of cultural economics research, points out the original pattern of taste formation. Blaugh reminds us that artistic goods are “experience goods”. Taste has to be acquired by repeated experiences of consumption and, as a consequence, “stable and identical tastes are an implausible assumption”, and “it is doubtful whether we can actually identify demand for art separately from the supply of the arts and vice versa”. (Blaugh, 2001, p. 125 & 127).
Taste formation is a topic in Hutter's research about the impact of cultural economics to economic theory:
“The standard assumption of stable preference structure is particularly inadequate in the cultural sector. Tastes are obviously socially shaped. Terms like 'acquired taste' demonstrate that this fact is well known” (Hutter, 1996, p. 265).
Hutter, however, brings our attention to other peculiarities of cultural economics. First, he questions the assumption about the stability of demand:
“Another standard assumption is stability of the demand that leads to a specific price paid and volume sold. However, in the 'thin' market for art objects, that assumption does not hold – demand at a particular auction is highly unpredictable” (ibidem, 1996, p. 265).
Finally, Hutter invites us to reflect on the theory of value:
“In the process of making and appreciating art, there is a form of valuation at work that is distinct from valuation in terms of monetary exchange value. Apparently, artistic quality cannot be broken down into more elementary characteristics. Despite occasional anecdotes of the contrary, there is fairly high consensus among participants in the various genres about which pieces have quality and which do not. This kind of valuation is different from traditional individual use valuation. It is a social kind of valuation, just like exchange valuation, yet it operates differently. I have already mentioned that artistic valuation involves a complicated scheme of certification and reputation building” (ibidem, 1996, p. 267).
In order to account for the social dimension of valuation, cultural economics has overcome the traditional notion of economic capital to include cultural capital. Throsby has theorized about cultural capital.
A New Theory of Cultural Value
Blaugh, in his review of cultural economics research, points out the original pattern of taste formation. Blaugh reminds us that artistic goods are “experience goods”. Taste has to be acquired by repeated experiences of consumption and, as a consequence, “stable and identical tastes are an implausible assumption”, and “it is doubtful whether we can actually identify demand for art separately from the supply of the arts and vice versa”. (Blaugh, 2001, p. 125 & 127).
Taste formation is a topic in Hutter's research about the impact of cultural economics to economic theory:
“The standard assumption of stable preference structure is particularly inadequate in the cultural sector. Tastes are obviously socially shaped. Terms like 'acquired taste' demonstrate that this fact is well known” (Hutter, 1996, p. 265).
Hutter, however, brings our attention to other peculiarities of cultural economics. First, he questions the assumption about the stability of demand:
“Another standard assumption is stability of the demand that leads to a specific price paid and volume sold. However, in the 'thin' market for art objects, that assumption does not hold – demand at a particular auction is highly unpredictable” (ibidem, 1996, p. 265).
Finally, Hutter invites us to reflect on the theory of value:
“In the process of making and appreciating art, there is a form of valuation at work that is distinct from valuation in terms of monetary exchange value. Apparently, artistic quality cannot be broken down into more elementary characteristics. Despite occasional anecdotes of the contrary, there is fairly high consensus among participants in the various genres about which pieces have quality and which do not. This kind of valuation is different from traditional individual use valuation. It is a social kind of valuation, just like exchange valuation, yet it operates differently. I have already mentioned that artistic valuation involves a complicated scheme of certification and reputation building” (ibidem, 1996, p. 267).
In order to account for the social dimension of valuation, cultural economics has overcome the traditional notion of economic capital to include cultural capital. Throsby has theorized about cultural capital.
A New Theory of Cultural Value
Throsby extends the social dimension of cultural value (Throsby, 2001). He accounts for the ideas that permeate the economic domain – price, utility, individual preference -, but also claims that cultural goods embed cultural values – spiritual, social, historical, symbolic, authenticity values – that cannot be captured by the willingness to pay of individuals, because cultural experiences arise when people become members of a group; “People form judgments about cultural value not just by introspection but by a process of exchange with others”. (Throsby, 2001, p. 33)
Throsby names the discussed set of values that people share in their social interactions. Throsby names these values cultural capital. When cultural capital is involved, traditional assumptions of price formation are not met. On the demand side, tastes are time dependent. They increase with time and every act of consumption seems to affect future consumption. On the supply side, creators do not behave as profit maximizers. Creators, quite to the contrary, allocate relevant labor capital even when price predicts little or no return in economic capital. Therefore, Throsby concludes:
“If we are serious about striving for theoretical completeness, and eventually for operational validity in decision-making, it is essential that cultural value be admitted alongside economic value in the consideration of the overall value of cultural goods and services” (Throsby, 2001, p. 41).
The value-based approach is the approach to cultural economics which tries to account for the social construction of artistic value. Arjo Klamer has developed this approach.
The Value-Based Approach to Economics
Throsby names the discussed set of values that people share in their social interactions. Throsby names these values cultural capital. When cultural capital is involved, traditional assumptions of price formation are not met. On the demand side, tastes are time dependent. They increase with time and every act of consumption seems to affect future consumption. On the supply side, creators do not behave as profit maximizers. Creators, quite to the contrary, allocate relevant labor capital even when price predicts little or no return in economic capital. Therefore, Throsby concludes:
“If we are serious about striving for theoretical completeness, and eventually for operational validity in decision-making, it is essential that cultural value be admitted alongside economic value in the consideration of the overall value of cultural goods and services” (Throsby, 2001, p. 41).
The value-based approach is the approach to cultural economics which tries to account for the social construction of artistic value. Arjo Klamer has developed this approach.
The Value-Based Approach to Economics
Cultural values pose a main question to cultural economic theory, “How do social interactions generate, shape, and trade cultural capitals?”. This question is the starting point of Klamer's value-based approach to economics. “Researchers may ask themselves how values come about, in which ways they are realized, affirmed, evaluated and valorized” (Klamer, 2011, p. 465).
Klamer provides a new approach to economics which takes into account cultural capital and preference formation. Abandoning the rational focus on the market system, Klamer suggests taking the standpoint of the people involved in the process of social construction of value. Therefore, the name “value-based approach”.
According to Klamer, cultural goods are discursive constructions. Cultural goods may be exchanged in the market, as standard economic goods, and thus get a price, yet, most of the time, people deal with the cultural capital of economic goods to realize personal, social, societal, and transcendental values in their social interactions and social communities.
Klamer talks about “conversation” to light up how these interactions and communities work:
“Conversation defines all the exchanges, the chatter, the publications, the literature, the conferences, the meetings that constitute these communities, and participation in the conversations establishes who is counted as a member of these communities” (Klamer, 2009, p. 250).
Within a conversation what matters is not the intrinsic value of the object, but the shared meaning about the object that is socially defined: “Goods become cultural when people treat them as such: in the way they talk about them and in the process of valuation, evaluation and valorization”. (Klamer, 2013, ch. 12). Conversations, therefore, define who and what belong to the artistic conversation. Let's briefly discuss both points.
When someone wants to establish himself as an artist, he must enter the artistic conversation. The process implies a high opportunity cost: he must invest a great amount of time, labor and social networking. Economic profit is seldom gained. However, sharing the artistic conversation appears as a value itself. A value that interacts with other conversations, generating an ongoing flow of cultural capital. The artistic conversation may convey high status and positively affects conversations with friends. The artistic conversation, though, may be demanding and reduce our investment and success in the family conversation.
The artistic conversation defines, as well, what pieces of art are cultural goods. The artistic conversation rules stocks and flows of cultural capitals related to the relevant cultural goods. Artists and public co-create the value of cultural goods. They together define what cultural goods are good for, and what cultural goods are allowed to do.
Several cultural goods, for example, are not allowed to enter the market. They are named “high culture” and they have restricted access to the commodity state. Arjun Appaduraj has introduced the notion of commodity and discussed the restrictions to the commodity state. His insights may eventually help us to tease out the social process that goes on in the cultural conversation when people talk about high culture and restrict its access to the market.
The Social Life of Things: Goods vs Commodities
Klamer provides a new approach to economics which takes into account cultural capital and preference formation. Abandoning the rational focus on the market system, Klamer suggests taking the standpoint of the people involved in the process of social construction of value. Therefore, the name “value-based approach”.
According to Klamer, cultural goods are discursive constructions. Cultural goods may be exchanged in the market, as standard economic goods, and thus get a price, yet, most of the time, people deal with the cultural capital of economic goods to realize personal, social, societal, and transcendental values in their social interactions and social communities.
Klamer talks about “conversation” to light up how these interactions and communities work:
“Conversation defines all the exchanges, the chatter, the publications, the literature, the conferences, the meetings that constitute these communities, and participation in the conversations establishes who is counted as a member of these communities” (Klamer, 2009, p. 250).
Within a conversation what matters is not the intrinsic value of the object, but the shared meaning about the object that is socially defined: “Goods become cultural when people treat them as such: in the way they talk about them and in the process of valuation, evaluation and valorization”. (Klamer, 2013, ch. 12). Conversations, therefore, define who and what belong to the artistic conversation. Let's briefly discuss both points.
When someone wants to establish himself as an artist, he must enter the artistic conversation. The process implies a high opportunity cost: he must invest a great amount of time, labor and social networking. Economic profit is seldom gained. However, sharing the artistic conversation appears as a value itself. A value that interacts with other conversations, generating an ongoing flow of cultural capital. The artistic conversation may convey high status and positively affects conversations with friends. The artistic conversation, though, may be demanding and reduce our investment and success in the family conversation.
The artistic conversation defines, as well, what pieces of art are cultural goods. The artistic conversation rules stocks and flows of cultural capitals related to the relevant cultural goods. Artists and public co-create the value of cultural goods. They together define what cultural goods are good for, and what cultural goods are allowed to do.
Several cultural goods, for example, are not allowed to enter the market. They are named “high culture” and they have restricted access to the commodity state. Arjun Appaduraj has introduced the notion of commodity and discussed the restrictions to the commodity state. His insights may eventually help us to tease out the social process that goes on in the cultural conversation when people talk about high culture and restrict its access to the market.
The Social Life of Things: Goods vs Commodities
Appaduraj brings in the distinction between goods and commodities to explore the social life of things, and light up the political construction of value that we have so far discussed with the conversational metaphor. Appaduraj introduces his aim as follows:
“Focusing on the things that are exchanged, rather than simply on the forms and functions of exchange, makes it possible to argue that what creates the link between exchange and value is politics, construed broadly” (Appaduraj, 1988, p.3).
In order to follow the political construction of value, Appaduraj introduces the distinction between goods and commodities. Appaduraj defines commodities as goods meant for exchange. What he wants to show us is that there are goods that are not meant for exchange. Though the standard economic approach focuses only on commodities, Appauraj tells us that the commodity state, the moment of exchange either in the market or in a barter, is just a phase in the social life of goods. Goods can enter or exit the commodity state, following pathways of “enclaving” and “diversion”:
“Whereas enclaving seeks to protect certain things from commoditization, diversion frequently is aimed at drawing protected things into the zone of commoditization” (ibidem, p. 26).
Appaduraj points out two features of the political debate around commoditization that are relevant for our discussion about high culture. First, Appaduraj reveals that artistic production has always had restricted access to the commodity phase:
“The more complex case concerns entire zones of activity and production that are devoted to producing objects of value that cannot be commoditized by anybody. The zone of art and ritual in small-scale societies is one such enclaved zone, where the spirit of commodity enters only under condition of massive cultural change. (…) It is typical that objects which represent aesthetic elaboration and objects that serve as sacra are, in many societies, not permitted to occupy the commodity state (either temporally, socially, or definitionally) for very long” (ibidem, p. 22-23).
Then, Appaduraj adds that contemporary societies distinguish themselves from traditional ones because more and more goods are allowed to enter the commodity phase:
“In modern capitalist societies, it can safely be said that more things are likely to experience a commodity phase in their own careers, more contexts to become legitimate commodity contexts, and the standards of commodity candidacy to embrace a large part of the world of things than in non capitalist societies” (ibidem, p. 15).
To sum up, art in modern societies is at the crossroad of divergent pathways. There is a long term trend enclaving art out of the commodity state; and there is a shorter term trend diverting art into the commodity state. When people in the artistic conversation talk about high culture, they seem to resume the old trend and enclave a few high culturally valued objects out of the commodity-state.
High Culture: Enclaving Art out of the Commodity State
“Focusing on the things that are exchanged, rather than simply on the forms and functions of exchange, makes it possible to argue that what creates the link between exchange and value is politics, construed broadly” (Appaduraj, 1988, p.3).
In order to follow the political construction of value, Appaduraj introduces the distinction between goods and commodities. Appaduraj defines commodities as goods meant for exchange. What he wants to show us is that there are goods that are not meant for exchange. Though the standard economic approach focuses only on commodities, Appauraj tells us that the commodity state, the moment of exchange either in the market or in a barter, is just a phase in the social life of goods. Goods can enter or exit the commodity state, following pathways of “enclaving” and “diversion”:
“Whereas enclaving seeks to protect certain things from commoditization, diversion frequently is aimed at drawing protected things into the zone of commoditization” (ibidem, p. 26).
Appaduraj points out two features of the political debate around commoditization that are relevant for our discussion about high culture. First, Appaduraj reveals that artistic production has always had restricted access to the commodity phase:
“The more complex case concerns entire zones of activity and production that are devoted to producing objects of value that cannot be commoditized by anybody. The zone of art and ritual in small-scale societies is one such enclaved zone, where the spirit of commodity enters only under condition of massive cultural change. (…) It is typical that objects which represent aesthetic elaboration and objects that serve as sacra are, in many societies, not permitted to occupy the commodity state (either temporally, socially, or definitionally) for very long” (ibidem, p. 22-23).
Then, Appaduraj adds that contemporary societies distinguish themselves from traditional ones because more and more goods are allowed to enter the commodity phase:
“In modern capitalist societies, it can safely be said that more things are likely to experience a commodity phase in their own careers, more contexts to become legitimate commodity contexts, and the standards of commodity candidacy to embrace a large part of the world of things than in non capitalist societies” (ibidem, p. 15).
To sum up, art in modern societies is at the crossroad of divergent pathways. There is a long term trend enclaving art out of the commodity state; and there is a shorter term trend diverting art into the commodity state. When people in the artistic conversation talk about high culture, they seem to resume the old trend and enclave a few high culturally valued objects out of the commodity-state.
High Culture: Enclaving Art out of the Commodity State
The capitalist pathway of diversion has extensively driven art into the commoditization sphere. Pop culture – music, paintings, books, plays, live performances in general – are often specifically conceived for the market. Cultural economics has indeed coined the term “cultural industries” to include all the industries engaged in the creation, reproduction, and distribution of cultural goods. The bulk of standard economic studies deals with cultural industries.
However, established pieces of art or new pieces of pop art, thought to be of high value, tend to become exceptions to the commoditization trend. People in the artistic conversation label these particular old and new pieces of art “high culture”. When “high culture” discourse starts, a pathway of enclaving comes in and the commodity phase is restricted. High culture goods tend to acquire the features of shared goods, as Klamer defines them (Klamer, 2013, p. 4): (1) at least two people must share the ownership to make them real; (2) the ownership is not legal, but social or moral; (3) neither market transaction nor governmental action can alter the ownership; (4) price is unstated, yet values of goods are clear to the users; (5) experiencing the goods implies a social contribution; (6) acts of consumption increase the overall value of the goods.
Moreover, when high culture is at stake, public intervention comes in to solve market failure or to favor low income audience: subsidies or donations may cover the high fixed costs of a classic orchestra performance or allow a reduction in the entry ticket for students. Finally, incentives, such as cultural prizes, may intervene to stimulate high culture productions, whereas cultural industries, such as publishing or music industries, would focus on profit maximization.
More examples could be included. This essay, however, is not meant to provide empirical analysis of the different means to restrict art commoditization, nor is meant to evaluate their economic efficiency. The given examples are useful only to prove that the social activity around high culture effects economic behavior of consumers, donors, and administrators. As a result, high culture, meant as a social practice to enclave a few pieces of art out of the commodity-state, is relevant for cultural economics.
Conclusion
However, established pieces of art or new pieces of pop art, thought to be of high value, tend to become exceptions to the commoditization trend. People in the artistic conversation label these particular old and new pieces of art “high culture”. When “high culture” discourse starts, a pathway of enclaving comes in and the commodity phase is restricted. High culture goods tend to acquire the features of shared goods, as Klamer defines them (Klamer, 2013, p. 4): (1) at least two people must share the ownership to make them real; (2) the ownership is not legal, but social or moral; (3) neither market transaction nor governmental action can alter the ownership; (4) price is unstated, yet values of goods are clear to the users; (5) experiencing the goods implies a social contribution; (6) acts of consumption increase the overall value of the goods.
Moreover, when high culture is at stake, public intervention comes in to solve market failure or to favor low income audience: subsidies or donations may cover the high fixed costs of a classic orchestra performance or allow a reduction in the entry ticket for students. Finally, incentives, such as cultural prizes, may intervene to stimulate high culture productions, whereas cultural industries, such as publishing or music industries, would focus on profit maximization.
More examples could be included. This essay, however, is not meant to provide empirical analysis of the different means to restrict art commoditization, nor is meant to evaluate their economic efficiency. The given examples are useful only to prove that the social activity around high culture effects economic behavior of consumers, donors, and administrators. As a result, high culture, meant as a social practice to enclave a few pieces of art out of the commodity-state, is relevant for cultural economics.
Conclusion
The rational approach to economics takes as irrelevant the distinction between high and low culture. Frey points out that “there is no such thing as good or bad art” (Frey, 2003, p.26). Art, according to Frey, is indeed what individual actors purchase on the market. However, Throsby shows that, along with economic capital, cultural goods embed cultural capitals, and Klamer reveals that cultural goods help people to realize their values far beyond the market. People talk about cultural goods in the artistic conversation, and, there, they define what art is and how they behave in respect to art. In the artistic conversation, the distinction between “high” and “low” culture is still an ongoing discourse practice and shapes the way society deals with the art. While low culture is free to enter the commodity state, high culture has restricted access to the commodity sphere. Going back to Appaduray, high culture represents, for modern societies, what sacred art used to represent in traditional societies.
(1) For an overview of the concepts of market, supply, and demand in classical economics see for example Towse, 2010, part I – ch. 3, 4, 5.
Bibliography
Bibliography
Appaduraj, A. (1988). The social life of things. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Baumol, W. & Bowen, W. (1966). Performing Arts: The Economic Dilemma. Hartford: Twentieth Fund.
Blaug, M. (2001). “Where are we now in cultural economics? In Journal of Economic Surveys, 15(2), April: 123-143.
Frey, B. (2003). Arts and Economics. New Yor-Heidelberg: Springer.
Hutter, M. (1996). “The impact of cultural economics on economic theory”. Journal of Cultural Economics, 20(4), 263-268.
Klamer, A. (2009). “The Lives of Cultural Goods”. In Amariglio, J., Childers J. W., & Cullenberg, S. Sublime Economy: On the Intersection of Art and Economics. Oxford: Routledge.
Klamer, A. (2011). “Value of Culture”. In Towse, R. (2011). A Handbook of Cultural Economics. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar.
Klamer, A. (2013). Doing the right thing. (memo)
Rushton, M. (1999). “Methodological Individualism and Cultural Economics”. Journal of Cultural Economics, 23(3), 137-147.
Throsby, D. (2001). Economics and Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Towse, R. (2010). A Textbook of Cultural Economics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Baumol, W. & Bowen, W. (1966). Performing Arts: The Economic Dilemma. Hartford: Twentieth Fund.
Blaug, M. (2001). “Where are we now in cultural economics? In Journal of Economic Surveys, 15(2), April: 123-143.
Frey, B. (2003). Arts and Economics. New Yor-Heidelberg: Springer.
Hutter, M. (1996). “The impact of cultural economics on economic theory”. Journal of Cultural Economics, 20(4), 263-268.
Klamer, A. (2009). “The Lives of Cultural Goods”. In Amariglio, J., Childers J. W., & Cullenberg, S. Sublime Economy: On the Intersection of Art and Economics. Oxford: Routledge.
Klamer, A. (2011). “Value of Culture”. In Towse, R. (2011). A Handbook of Cultural Economics. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar.
Klamer, A. (2013). Doing the right thing. (memo)
Rushton, M. (1999). “Methodological Individualism and Cultural Economics”. Journal of Cultural Economics, 23(3), 137-147.
Throsby, D. (2001). Economics and Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Towse, R. (2010). A Textbook of Cultural Economics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
domenica, novembre 10, 2013
sabato, novembre 02, 2013
domenica, ottobre 20, 2013
Rotterdam: Autumn in Ommoord
sabato, ottobre 19, 2013
venerdì, ottobre 18, 2013
The spot, the student and the critic being
My world is a spot. There is a chair. A body holding up a brain.
In the morning, I write, critizing what I read before.
In the afternoon, I read, preparing the critics of the day ahead.
In the evening, I broader the scope, reading more, to know better how to criticize.
In the night, when the last stream of conscious passes by, I wonder if I should criticize it all.
I feel like a brain, but my brain feels like running a body sometimes.
However, I am too tired, and I give up, I take it the way it is.
I critic, thus I am, or at least I try to be, sitting in this world-spot as critic as I can be.
In the morning, I write, critizing what I read before.
In the afternoon, I read, preparing the critics of the day ahead.
In the evening, I broader the scope, reading more, to know better how to criticize.
In the night, when the last stream of conscious passes by, I wonder if I should criticize it all.
I feel like a brain, but my brain feels like running a body sometimes.
However, I am too tired, and I give up, I take it the way it is.
I critic, thus I am, or at least I try to be, sitting in this world-spot as critic as I can be.
giovedì, ottobre 10, 2013
Il testo in codice sull'economia e il mondo
I suoi discorsi incominciavano sempre con una certa enfasi, come se annunciassero ogni volta una rivoluzione. “Ho già in mente un affare da un milione di euro l'anno in tre anni. Devo solo lavorare per costituire i dieci mila euro di capitale iniziale. Prima di tornare in Francia, ho già aiutato un amico a mettere su una scuola di inglese per cinesi. L'attività funziona, il paese è grande, tornerò là se trovo la voglia di restarci almeno tre anni. E' quanto serve per allargare la rete”.
Il giovane francese era sempre tagliente ed estremo nei giudizi. Affare o merda, business o filosofia. E l'enfasi emergeva ancor di più per la piccola taglia: corporatura minuta, scarpe e jeans abbondanti, felpa con cappuccio, sigaretta in mano. Nell'altra mano spesso un caffè, talvolta un telefono per illuminare angoli di vita metropolitana: un parcheggio pieno di bici, un graffito, una vetrata scheggiata. Dalla tasca emergeva talvolta un blocco appunti nero, con carta bianca, opaca, senza righe né quadretti. Appunti, disegni, grafici, punti di domanda. E poi pagine bianche e scrittura.
Le ragazze lo guardavano con simpatia e sospetto. Le più grandi spinte da un certo sentimento materno verso quel nichilismo, le più giovani un poco irritate, forse anche dubbiose sull'atteggiamento. Quei vestiti, quel modo di fare, quel cinismo ricordavano troppo un vecchio noir francese in bianco e nero per non dubitare che il giovane francese potesse soltanto recitare una parte.
L'ultima volta che lo vidi rispose con la solita enfasi. “Mi immagino qualcosa di avventuroso per i prossimi mesi: avere un'idea, andare in un paese e realizzarla”. Anche quella volta nel taschino aveva il suo blocco appunti con carta opaca. “Ci sto annotando delle ipotesi su un libro, sull'economia e sul mondo”.
“E di che parli?” chiesi lui.
“Lo sto scrivendo in francese, con molte abbreviazioni, così non sarà facile leggerlo neppure per chi parla francese”.
Fece una pausa per chiudere una sigaretta passandosela fra le labbra.
“Non credo che arriverò a dirtelo ora”, aggiunse infine prima di strisciare le scarpe verso la fermata della metropolitana.
Il giovane francese era sempre tagliente ed estremo nei giudizi. Affare o merda, business o filosofia. E l'enfasi emergeva ancor di più per la piccola taglia: corporatura minuta, scarpe e jeans abbondanti, felpa con cappuccio, sigaretta in mano. Nell'altra mano spesso un caffè, talvolta un telefono per illuminare angoli di vita metropolitana: un parcheggio pieno di bici, un graffito, una vetrata scheggiata. Dalla tasca emergeva talvolta un blocco appunti nero, con carta bianca, opaca, senza righe né quadretti. Appunti, disegni, grafici, punti di domanda. E poi pagine bianche e scrittura.
Le ragazze lo guardavano con simpatia e sospetto. Le più grandi spinte da un certo sentimento materno verso quel nichilismo, le più giovani un poco irritate, forse anche dubbiose sull'atteggiamento. Quei vestiti, quel modo di fare, quel cinismo ricordavano troppo un vecchio noir francese in bianco e nero per non dubitare che il giovane francese potesse soltanto recitare una parte.
L'ultima volta che lo vidi rispose con la solita enfasi. “Mi immagino qualcosa di avventuroso per i prossimi mesi: avere un'idea, andare in un paese e realizzarla”. Anche quella volta nel taschino aveva il suo blocco appunti con carta opaca. “Ci sto annotando delle ipotesi su un libro, sull'economia e sul mondo”.
“E di che parli?” chiesi lui.
“Lo sto scrivendo in francese, con molte abbreviazioni, così non sarà facile leggerlo neppure per chi parla francese”.
Fece una pausa per chiudere una sigaretta passandosela fra le labbra.
“Non credo che arriverò a dirtelo ora”, aggiunse infine prima di strisciare le scarpe verso la fermata della metropolitana.
mercoledì, ottobre 02, 2013
The Value of my Master's
Issued on September the 23rd
class of Cultural Economics: Theory
Master in Cultural Economics and Entrepreneurship
Master in Cultural Economics and Entrepreneurship
A few months ago, I submitted my application for the Master’s in Cultural Economics and Entrepreneurship at the University of Rotterdam. In economics terms, my decision may be seen as follows: 1.850,00 € in tuition fees, about 10.000,00 € in travel cost to come and live in the Netherlands, no salary for eight months at least, and a concentrated effort at my office to make my time off at work accepted; in return, a 2000,00 € fellowship from my regional department, and an uncertain future increase in my income. The choice does not appear very rational!
Nonetheless, I did my best to make my resume appealing, to collect all my published papers, and to write a convincing motivation letter. I did my best to be a successful candidate.
My master’s decision was indeed an everyday example of value based choice. I will briefly recall the concept of value as used in this paper, try to map a few values relevant in the choice of my master, and show how these values are consistent with a psychological paradigm shift.
“Values are qualities of actions, goods, people, social entities that people find good, beneficial, important, useful, beautiful, desirable, constructive and so forth. Values are personal in the sense that individuals experience them as such and they are social in the sense values derive their impact from being shared among group of people” (Klamer, 2013, p. 7). Klamer distinguishes the following groups of values: social, societal, cultural, historical, moral, personal, transcendental, and functional.
According to classical economics, my master’s has got a functional value: I expect to increase my cultural capital and in return increase my social prestige and income. However, according to the current state of affairs, it is not so clear that any master’s may guarantee a job better than the one I have already. The lottery effect, ie the remote chance of picking up a great position, may play a role as in the creative side of cultural industries, but functional values are nonetheless too uncertain to be pivotal in my decision.
First, social values were at stage. I had developed among colleagues and external companies and associations few idiosyncrasies but a lot more strong friendships. In both cases, previous experiences were about to work as biases. I felt I could easily end up playing influence peddling without self criticism or growth. It was time to move on, invest my extended social capital in projects out of my city council or simply have a beer with that human capital free of working constraints.
Societal values were at stake as well. Public subsidies had been cut down and most of the administrators simply refused to inquiry about any further organizational model. According to local decision makers, culture had to act independently of private capitals constraints as a means to educate people. Strangely enough, the projects that were finally achieved failed to engage audience: people refused the paternalistic approach and criticized the public cultural investments, advanced at the expense of more basic services. It was time to overtake the frustration of balance sheets and reset the beloved cultural activities within a different frame. To some extent, I did want to study economics to go beyond the economics constraints I had got used to.
Cultural values, furthermore, framed my choice. As a traveler, I had enjoyed more and more the blurring frontiers of European Union. As a professional, I could not stand the steady contrast between Italian policies and European regulations. Rotterdam was the birth place of Erasmus. The university itself brought his name. What better place to attempt to get free from monetary anxiety and bring back the political and cultural idea of the founding fathers. One of my most inspiring sources had been A Certain Idea of Europe, a short essay by George Steiner trying to identify the bedrock of European identity. Steiner posited around bars and cafes as cultural circles, about landscape as a collection of walking distance stretches. I found that debate much more rewarding than the current one on public debt control. Could I contribute to refresh the mainstream of the conversation about a European utopia? That was exactly the task of a European cultural entrepreneur, I thought.
Through my initial readings – Morgan (Morgan, 1943) and Cameron and Quinn (Cameron & Quinn, 2011) among others - , I have finally also clarified a personal value. Suffering the constraints of my previous working position, as I briefly recalled before, I was actually complaining about the main pitfalls of hierarchical mechanistic institutions. My need for a new framework was indeed a dream for a more adhocrat attitude: think new, think different. Recalling my answers to the first survey we students were given at the seminar of cultural organization, I do realize, nonetheless, that the mechanistic metaphor is deeply routed in me. My vision of cultural business included planning, design, basically fitting creative production into an organizational routine. Here comes the personal challenge. Am I still able to get out of my mechanistic metaphor, enter a board conceiving an expo or a concert, and provide that board brand new insights? Inspiring contributions by the master's would be a relevant value in this respect.
To come to the conclusion, quite independently of pure economic rational analysis, I have decided to take a master’s in Rotterdam to foster an improvement in my social, societal, cultural and prsonal values. This combined set of values may be perhaps the hallmark of a shift of paradigms. Undertaking this new educational experience, I have tried to make my way from hedonic enjoyment, ie the relaxing sensation of mastering a well known work flow in a hierarchical and predictable city council in Italy, to personal expressiveness, ie the thrilling sensation of matching my skills with the challenging new ways of thinking of a multicultural Dutch university (Waterman, 1993, in Kombrink, 2003). If so, I hope to have optimally balanced skills and goals and enjoy that feeling of excitement “that takes the middle between boredom and anxiety, when the challenges are just balanced with our capacity to act” (Csikszentmihalyi 1975, 1988, in Kombrink, p. 17).
Bibliography
Cameron, K.; Quinn, R. (2011). Diagnosing and Changing Organizational Culture. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1975). Beyond Boredom and Anxiety. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1988). ‘The Flow Experience and its Significance for Human Psychology, In: M. Csikszentmihalyi & I.S. Csikszentmihalyi (eds.), Optimal Experience: Psychological Studies of Flow in Consciousness. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 15-35.
Klamer, A. (2013). Doing the right thing. A Value Based Approach to Economics.
Kombrink, D. (2003). Cultural Capital and Well-Being. Rotterdam: Erasmus University of Rotterdam.
Morgan, G. (1943). Images of Organization. London: Sage.
Waterman, A. S. (1993), ‘Two Conceptions of Happiness: Contrasts of Personal Expressiveness (Eudaimonia) and Hedonic Enjoyment’, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 64: 678-91.
sabato, settembre 28, 2013
Rotterdam: Discovery Festival 2013
Iscriviti a:
Commenti (Atom)
















