Status in the New Asia
Of
Vietnam’s 90 million people, about 20 million are on Facebook; around
half that number live below the poverty line. A society so defined
inhabits many universes at once. A teenager on a scooter among the
whining legions of scooters, his bike burdened with a cage full of live
chickens, passes a glitzy new “Thai Tapas Bar.” Global and local, high
concept and the scramble for survival, intersect. Everyone lives
somewhere. A growing number of people live everywhere. Vietnam, a
war-ravaged peasant society within living memory, has bounded toward a
churning urban modernity that has echoes across the world.
The global rich inhabit one country, the global middle class another, the global poor a third. There is much more in common among the global rich across national borders than between rich and poor within those borders. Perhaps it was ever so. But the world lived in ignorance, most exploitable of conditions. Awareness has changed things. It is a force multiplier and a motivator. It is near irreversible once acquired. It drives the ache for status, as evident now in Ho Chi Minh City as Hollywood.
The
notion that globalization equals homogenization has become a
commonplace. You travel 10,000 miles and find yourself gazing at a
Domino’s Pizza or a Dunkin’ Donuts. Upscale neighborhoods are full of
the same kinds of ads for personal fitness trainers. Malls are filled
with the same “power brands.” Children show the same tendencies toward
pudginess or even obesity as their diets are changed by global fast
food. The Vietnamese rich want the same Prada bags as the rich
throughout the world, the new middle class craves the same symbols of
their rise, and the poor are just poor like the poor everywhere.
But
these are bromides. Homogenization is in fact far from the whole story.
Perhaps it would be truer these days to say that the same thing that
people throughout the world want is something different.
If
they have the means they want the glass hand-blown, the liquor
slow-aged and the fabric hand-sewn. They want something with a
distinctive story. They want to know how the pigs behind that succulent
ham got their acorns. They want to know how the barrel behind the
bourbon was made. They long to demonstrate their knowledge, now so
easily acquired, and reveal their particular taste.
“Mass” is becoming a problematic word in the global marketplace. Bespoke and crafted and boutique are good words.
Better
the couple of guys in Denver who start a microbrewery or the former
hedge-fund honcho making a superior gin near Edinburgh than the slick
marketers of power-branding. Integrity and authenticity are new
watchwords. Globalization, it transpires, is also about growing
fragmentation. It involves consumer rebellions against being herded by
conglomerates toward the same brands in the same malls.
These
developments are of course problematic for big industrial groups, whose
partial answer has been to set up divisions focused on acquiring or
developing the handcrafted, small breweries and distilleries able to
counter the “mass” image. But consumers of ever greater sophistication
may challenge the integrity and authenticity of such products.
A
successful Vietnamese businessman confided to me that when he receives a
gift of a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label (surely one of the
world’s great blended whiskies) he sends it back because it is
insultingly ordinary. What he is looking for is a Gold Label, or a Blue
Label, or a Platinum Label (whiskies have come to resemble credit cards
and frequent-flyer memberships in their status-conferring labels), or
some very distinctive, long-aged single malt.
This in the end is where the Ho Chi Minh trail led: to the familiar and universal quest for status and respect.
As Constantine Phipps writes in “What You Want: The Pursuit of Happiness,” his wonderful new novel in rhyming verse:
Status gives pleasure, wholly genuine,
but also wields a dreaded discipline,
policing our activity far more
than do the sacred scriptures, or the law.
Its stern enforcers are esteem and blame.
There is no way out of the status game ...
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