Part XLIII - The Belief in Luck

This is a series about the book, Theory of the Leisure Class, by American economist Thorstein Veblen, published in 1899.  Chapter Eleven is titled The Belief in Luck.

Veblen says the propensity to gamble is another trait of the barbarian temperament and is common among sporting types and those given to warlike and emulative activities.  He claims this archaic trait serves no purpose in the modern society.  It relates to his economic ideas in a negative way because it hinders the ‘highest industrial efficiency’ of a community where ‘it prevails in any appreciable degree’.

The chief factor in gambling as a habit is the belief in luck, which he says is traceable to a stage of human development prior to the predatory culture.  He says this belief is ‘one form of the artistic apprehension of things.’  

Let's consider an example where there is a contest of strength and wagers are taken.  He describes the outlook of the person betting on the outcome as not just about winning the wager and coming away richer.  It is predatory because of the belief that the psychological weight of the wager enhances the victory for the winner and makes the losing side more humiliated and defeated.  The belief in luck makes the person placing the bet feel as though he has enhanced the chances of success for his contestant by putting the force of his will behind them.

Veblen explains this as going back to when men held animistic beliefs, when they felt that objects had a ‘quasi-personal individuality’ and were ‘possessed of volition…or of propensities’.  I remember as a very small child believing that the flat stones that formed the paving on the side of our house had feelings.  Their familiarity as a place for pretend tea parties with my friends was a source of comfort to me.  Because the stones evoked emotions in me, it seemed logical to assume they had emotions as well.  I suppose with this as a starting point, it is only a short journey to believing that one can propitiate or cajole them to bring you luck.  From there, it makes sense to hold these objects as talismans of good luck.

“There are few sporting men who are not in the habit of wearing charms or talismans to which more or less of efficacy is felt to belong.”

I don’t know about the statistics, but I remember Paula Radcliffe had a lucky necklace.  Clothing, objects, mascots, foods and ritualpreparations are all among the animistic aids to winning at various sports.

Veblen seems to say in so many words that anyone who has this sort of wacky view of things can have limited reliability in the modern world.  In order to be useful, people need to have the aptitude and habit of relating facts in terms of cause and effect, physical laws of nature, take personal responsibility, etc.

Further more, he contrasts the outlook of a primarily agricultural society to that of an industrial community. 

“Under a system of handicraft an advantage in dexterity, diligence, muscular force, or endurance may, in a very large measure, offset such a bias in the habits of thought of the workmen. Similarly in agricultural industry of the traditional kind, which closely resembles handicraft in the nature of the demands made upon the workman. In both, the workman is himself the prime mover chiefly depended upon, and the natural forces engaged are in large part apprehended as inscrutable and fortuitous agencies, whose working lies beyond the workman’s control or discretion.
 As industrial methods develop, the virtues of the handicraftsman count for less and less as an offset to scanty intelligence or a halting acceptance of the sequence of cause and effect. The industrial organization assumes more and more of the character of a mechanism, in which it is man’s office to discriminate and select what natural forces shall work out their effects in his service. The workman’s part in industry changes from that of a prime mover to that of discrimination and valuation of quantitative sequences and mechanical facts.”

Veblen refers to the term ‘ignava ratio’ (Latin for ‘idle argument’) which is a philosophical idea ‘If it’s meant to be, it will happen.’  He discusses this alongside of ‘anthropomorphic divinity’, which he says is a higher development following on from the animistic belief.  I don’t think Veblen holds religion in high esteem.  He sees it as upholding a sense of status, which of course it does in that people are understood to have lower status than the deity they worship. 

And that, is my précis of the ideas in Chapter Eleven.

Part XLII - Walking Sticks

This is a series about Theory of the Leisure Class, a book by American Economist Thorstein Veblen.  This post ends the discussion of Chapter 10, Modern Survivals of Prowess.  Only four more chapters to go!

By this point you’ll think Veblen has some sort of malicious obsession with the leisure class and you might be right.  I think it’s more likely that he wants to make his point, sell his book, build his career, to still be quoted over 80 years after his death.  One of the small asides he makes in this chapter is about the walking stick.  I’m not certain why this grabbed me, unless it was because of the other book I was reading at the time, Charles Dickens’ Little Dorrit, published between 1855 and 1856.  I’m fairly certain that English gentlemen will have carried walking sticks in this time and perhaps there was a reference I didn’t note at the time.

In any case, Veblen makes the point that walking-sticks are generally recognised as being carried by ‘...the men of the leisure class proper, sporting men, and the lower-class delinquents…[also] men engaged in the pecuniary employments’.  I’m sure Mr Banks in Mary Poppins carried such a thing (or perhaps it was an umbrella). 

“The walking-stick serves the purpose of an advertisement that the bearer’s hands are employed otherwise than in useful effort, and it therefore has utility as an evidence of leisure. But it is also a weapon, and it meets a felt need of barbarian man on that ground. The handling of so tangible and primitive a means of offense is very comforting to anyone who is gifted with even a moderate share of ferocity.”

If you could ask Senator Charles Sumner about his experience with Representative Preston Brooks in 1856 following a speech Sumner gave about admitting Kansas to the union as a free state, I'm sure he would confirm Veblen's views about walking sticks as weapons.

At some point walking sticks were no longer de rigueur but umbrellas were more useful.  Women carried parasols for a while as well.  However, Veblen is certain that neither your usual men engaged in industry nor most women would carry walking sticks, unless in the case of infirmity which is a different matter.  A while back Bill shared a  Youtube video in which an old woman used her walking cane to beat a young man attempting a 'happy slap'.  I'm sure the video is a fake, but there are some tough old women up here in the North of England, no question about that.  I wouldn't mess with anyone carrying a stick!  Would you?

A Dozen Ways to Kill an Institute

The first night Vivien came to the WI with me, she won a jar of jam in the raffle.  A few months later at the Christmas party, she won dinner for two (with wine) at a posh restaurant.  She won a bottle of champers at the next Christmas party.  More recently, she won first place in the bake off for her Victoria Sponge cake.  Lucy won second prize.  I felt myself in wonderful company; shame I'm not a bigger cake fan, but there you are.  Vivien's prize for the cake was another bottle of champagne.  She insisted we get together and share it.

The 'Champagne Sub-group', as Julia has dubbed us, met the other night and discussed this and that (mostly all things crafty) over snacks and champagne.  It was great fun.  Bill took Lucy, Julia and I to Vivien's house.  Vivien's husband, Steve, brought us home.  

I was saying that I'd not got much further with this book, but the inside cover had a list of 'sins' and I could already claim a few.  I said I'd share the list, so this is it.  I suspect these concepts could be applied to many groups or gatherings.

1.  Don't come to the meetings, but if you do, come late, and if the weather doesn't suit you, don't think of coming.

2.  If you do attend the meetings, find fault with the work of the officers and other members.

3.  Never accept office, as it is easier to grouse than to do things.

4.  Nevertheless, get cross if you are not elected to the Committee: but if you are, do not attend the Committee meetings.

5. If asked by the President to give your opinion on some important matter, tell her you have nothing to say.

6.  After the meeting, tell everyone how things ought to be done.

7.  Do nothing more than is absolutely necessary, but when other members willingly use their ability to help things along, say that the Institute is run by a clique.

8.  Sit at the back and chat throughout the business, then ask to have various items repeated.

9.  Don't bother about getting new members - let the secretary do that.

10.  When you have anything to say, address your remarks to your neighbour instead of the chair.

11.  Chain smoke and bring your knitting.

12.  If you fail to carry out your obligations, blame the Committee and say the Institute is no good.

Adapted from a similar feature in "The Ulster Countryman"

Unhooking

Sometimes it is the clicking together of two ideas that takes me down a new path.  Like having a curiosity about something together with meeting someone with a passion for it; a divorce coming about the same time as a job offer in another country; 

recognising the vast number of hours I spend writing each post and stumbling across this post. 

Today I have errands to run to do with a crafting project, obligations to the running club's race sub-committee, a WI meeting to attend and we're launching a craft group.

Bill and I have been away from home for weeks at a time since his birthday trip to Cockermouth: to France; to the Making of Harry Potter museum near London; to Devon and Cornwall to support a 100-mile walk and to find the homes of his ancestors; to Manchester to visit granddaughter Charlotte, to Allendale fair with the running club.  I'd love to tell you all about all that.  However, the house and gardens are desperate for some TLC.  I need to remember how to exercise.  There are craft and sewing projects no longer willing to be put off.

Initially I blogged five days a week, then three.  I've blogged ahead for the weeks we would be away in order to keep that commitment.  Last Friday's absence was accidental.  I had written Veblen posts ahead but left that Friday open as it was my birthday.  I thought I might post something about that, but then forgot all about it in the mad rush of just returning home and having other places to go.  I hope to finish the last chapters of Veblen, just to have the satisfaction of completing something I started.  However, I am now releasing myself from regular posting.

I'm not planning to quit altogether, just to make it a less onerous job.  I've really loved 'meeting' the people who have commented here and whose blogs I have visited over the years.  I notice that most folks seem to run out eventually.  I don't think we run out of ideas (and I certainly haven't run out of photos) but for many of us real life has a way of taking over, of reminding us of our actual priorities.  I'm fortunate in that it's not any difficult circumstance that has forced me to change.  It's not turning 57 that has suddenly altered my outlook.  I've known for some time that I was going to have to make some choices, to act on the knowledge that I can do just about anything I want, but not everything I want.

So, you'll be figuring out what you want to do with that time you normally spent here, eh?  

If Walls Could Talk

Last week I talked about Amanda Vickery's book, The Gentleman's Daughter.  Today I want to share a few of the fun bits from Lucy Worsley's book, If Walls Could Talk - An Intimate History of the Home. 

I just wanted to share some things I learned about words, because you know how much I love words. For example, the origin of the term 'upper crust', from medieval days:

"At the bottom end of the hall an elaborately carved screen was constructed to hide the entrance to the kitchens.  It disguised the doors to the buttery (for storing drinks) and the pantry (where bread was kept).  The pantry was the workplace of the pantler, who handed out bread to the household. ... 'Trenchers' were slices of old bread which acted as throwaway plates.  They were formed from the burned and blackened bottoms of loaves. The more desireable top crust was eaten at once by the master and guests, hence the enduring term 'upper crust' for something posh." 

Ever wonder why desert and dessert were so similar in sound and appearance but nothing to do with one another?  Turns out they are in fact related terms:

"The separating out of sweet from savoury was an important development of the sixteenth century.  One step towards the breakdown of the communal household meal was the new Elizabethan practice of serving the sweets that now followed the main meat course in a different room.

Often a concert or play followed dinner in the great hall, so it was necessary to clear the tables away.  The action of removing the dirty plates from the tables was in French called the desert, the creation of an absence (the same word used for the Sahara).  This act of 'deserting' the table gave its name to the dessert or sweet course served elsewhere while the entertainers were setting up."

I always wondered about sculleries, given that this house and those of our neighbours all had one.  Most of us have modernised and joined the two kitchen-y rooms together, but I always wondered about the term 'scullery' since I associate sculling with some kind of boat.  Turns out sculleries were where the dishes were washed (also cleaning food, plucking birds, etc - the dirty stuff).  Escuelerie is the French word for 'dish room'.  

I've always wondered why Brits call 'cookies' biscuits (or why American's call them cookies). Lucy doesn't explain fully, but she does tell you about the term 'biscuit':

"Early ovens work quite differently from modern ones, where heat is provided continuously throughout the cooking process.  A stone- or brick-lined oven is heated before the food goes in, by the burning inside it of bundles of twigs called faggots.  Then the ashes are raked out, loaves are shovelled in, the door is closed and the bread is left to bake in the slowly cooling oven. 

When I used the bread oven at the Weald and Downland Museum, we stopped the oven's opening with a wooden door previously soaked in water to prevent it from catching fire. We sealed the gaps around the door with a strip of uncooked dough.  When this dough was baked, we knew that the bread inside must be finished too.  After the baking of the bread, the oven still contained just enough heat to bake a second round of cakes or biscuits.  The very word bis-cuit means 'second cooked'.

Cookie, was recognised in American English from 1703.  It comes from the Dutch word koekje,  for 'little cake', a diminutive of koek, for 'cake'.  I can only guess that Brits are more likely to take words from the French language, given the Norman invasion and all, in spite of the fact that their sovreign from 1689, was Dutch.  We could go on to talk about why the colour orange links Ireland, Holland and France, but that would be another post.

Getting back to If Walls Could Talk, it really is a good read, not least because she talks about what people actually did in bed.  You'll have to read her book to find out, but it's probably not what you're thinking.

Harry and Frank

One of the places we drove past on our way home was Camp du Drap d'Or (Field of Cloth of Gold). We didn't stop to look, but we remembered this was the meeting place of King Henry the VIIIth of England and King Francois I of France in June 1520.  Before this last trip to France I could have told you about Henry, but I wouldn't have been able to name Francois.

I think I'll remember the F-name now, having been to Fontainebleau, but of course that F is also for Francois.  

My foreign language experience in grade school was Spanish (taught by a lady on the TV) and so Spanish pronunciation comes more naturally. Trying to speak French is embarrassing, but any effort is well rewarded, so I give it a go.  

I was always in doubt about that last syllable in Fontainebleau and stumbled between blur and blue, but in fact it's blow; fon' ten blow, just in case you need to know.

The Royal Elephant is about wisdom and virtue.

It's hard to show you Fontainebleau (the portion that we saw, anyhow) without a squillion photos because it is such a jaw-dropping place.  

Under a chandelier...

 

I thought I would first write some of the stories I remember and about research I've done since. Just so I'll have some words to go with the pictures, you understand.   I know I've jumped into the middle, not starting at the front door and all, but we'll probably get there eventually.

Definitely a room with a view.

 

So anyhow, we're talking about two men who made big decisions.  Henry the VIIIth had the nerve to tell the Pope to push off and to start his own religion.  He had a problem to solve, getting a male heir.  He was prepared to take drastic steps to achieve that, though personally I think his younger daughter, Elizabeth I, was his highest accomplishment.   

Henry and Francois were allies in the Italian Wars against the Holy Roman Empire.  Francois's country was surrounded by territories under the control of his enemy, Charles V, so he formed an allegiance with  the Islamic ruler of the Ottoman Empire, an unusual decision for a Christian king.




Francois is known as having supported the development of a standardized French language . He initiated the French Renaissance, inviting Italian artists to help decorate his Palace at Fontainebleau.  He is also known for his big nose.

These photos are from the gallery named for him. I love history, architecture and decorative arts, but Renaissance paintings do not push my buttons. Instead of the paintings I appreciated the parquet floors, the huge windows, graceful chandeliers and the wood carvings.  Also, I remember reading about the advent of galleries in a book on medieval architecture.  I can highly recommend Castle:  A History of the Buildings that Shaped Medieval Britain, by Marc Morris. These long hall ways were popular in fine houses not just because they provided a space to show off one's art.  The windows let in light in a time before electricity and a gallery can also provide a hallway to link rooms.   This particular gallery goes links the monastery and the royal apartments.



Lately I learned that a gallery was also a popular place for having private conversations.  The long narrow shape allowed one to be more certain than in any other room that there were no eavesdroppers around.  



If I could figure out how to stick a gallery on this house I'd certainly do so, not for art (as if) or to gossip, but for the gorgeous tall windows.

Part XLI - Sport and Slang

This is part of a series discussing Theory of the Leisure Class, by Thorstein Veblen.  The tenth chapter is titled Modern Survivals of Prowess.

Given that Veblen believed the leisure class had tendencies for aggressive behaviour, he was concerned about the possibility of such persons to influence young lives in organisations such as ‘boys brigades’, which he felt were militaristic.  Given what I’ve read about the founding fathers of the Boys Brigade and the Boy Scouts, I wouldn’t say his concerns were unfounded.  They were both started here in Britain by men with military backgrounds. The early controversies about the Boy Scouts is  an interesting read.

Veblen was also concerned about ‘college spirit’ and athletics and the like in institutions for higher learning.  He felt that sports were a form of ‘adventuresome exploit’ and were ‘expression of emulative, partly activities deliberately entered upon with a view to gaining repute for prowess’.  One can hardly argue with this.  He lumped together prize-fights, bullfights, athletics, shooting, angling, yachting and games of skill.  Even if a few of these sports were not terribly physical and destructive they involved moving from a basis of hostile combat to developing skill and on to ‘cunning and chicanery’.  (Hmmm…can I add cycling to this list?). 

He said the boyish ‘addiction to sports’ indicated arrested development of a man’s moral character.  As with other comparisons, he again links members of the hereditary leisure class with the delinquent members of the lower classes in their obsession with sports.  (Given the mayhem created by those earning the title 'football yob' I must admit there is some mileage in his claim.)  

Veblen also thought there was an appreciable amount of ‘make believe’ in sporting, though not to the same extent with all games. 

“It is noticeable, for instance, that even very mild-mannered and matter-of-fact men who go out shooting are apt to carry an excess of arms and accoutrements in order to impress upon their own imagination the seriousness of their undertaking. These huntsmen are also prone to a histrionic, prancing gait and to an elaborate exaggeration of the motions, whether of stealth or of onslaught, involved in their deeds of exploit. Similarly in athletic sports there is almost invariably present a good share of rant and swagger and ostensible mystification — features which mark the histrionic nature of these employments.”

As a woman, I have to chuckle when I read this; it’s one of the things I like best about Veblen.  He also points out that sport (particularly football) is not only predatory, but it is a useless activity.  Of course, as an economist he would be unlikely to view sport – particularly professional sports – in the same light, but when he was writing there was nothing like the financial rewards there are today.

He also claims there is a great deal of slang involved in athletics which is largely drawn from ‘extremely sanguinary locutions borrowed from the terminology of warfare.’   I’ve looked for, but not found examples of this slang.  The commonalities of sports and war are well recognised, however, and I found some of the websites about slang in the military (I chose to link to WW I language; current slang is not as cute) and slang following the two world wars vaguely amusing.  

I really cracked up, though, when Veblen asserted

"Except where it is adopted as a necessary means of secret communication, the use of a special slang in any employment is probably to be accepted as evidence that the occupation in question is substantially make-believe."

Part of the growing cynicism I experienced at work before I retired was my frustration with the increasing use of weird words.  Have you ever played Buzzword Bingo?  Personally, I wish we could go back to mushy fruit and rotten apple throwing.

I have to say that Veblen is spot on with ‘make believe’.  Another thing he nailed is [emphasis mine]

“Sportsmen — hunters and anglers — are more or less in the habit of assigning a love of nature, the need of recreation, and the like, as the incentives to their favorite pastime. These motives are no doubt frequently present and make up a part of the attractiveness of the sportsman’s life; but these cannot be the chief incentives. These ostensible needs could be more readily and fully satisfied without the accompaniment of a systematic effort to take the life of those creatures that make up an essential feature of that “nature” that is beloved by the sportsman.”

My second husband was a keen hunter of deer and I can’t tell you how many times he told me how beautiful, how intelligent, graceful, sensitive, etc., he thought deer were.  Makes me kind of glad our marriage fell apart; in time he might have come after me with a bow and arrow.