Products and services that were once the preserve of a very wealthy few - from designer handbags to fast cars,
bespoke tailoring and domestic servants - are increasingly becoming accessible, if not to everyone, then
certainly to millions of people around the world. This may appall killjoy economists, but it is arguably even more
upsetting to those super-rich folk who have long been able to afford luxury, and may in one crucial respect even
regard it as a necessity. As Thorstein Veblen noted over a century ago in "The Theory of the Leisure Class" - the
book in which he coined the phrase "conspicuous consumption" - spending lavishly on expensive but essentially
wasteful goods and services is "evidence of wealth". In the 21st century, "being a conspicuous consumer is
getting harder and harder," says James Lawson of Ledbury Research, a firm that advises luxury businesses on
market trends. What does a billionaire have to do to get noticed nowadays?
Being a millionaire, for instance, is becoming commonplace. In 2004, there were 8.3 million households
worldwide with assets of at least $1 million, up by 7% on a year earlier, according to the latest annual survey by
Merrill Lynch and Capgemini. The newly wealthy are often desperate to affirm their status by conspicuously
consuming the favoured brands of the already rich. In developed countries this can be seen, in its extreme form,
in the rise of "bling" - jewellery, diamonds, and other luxuries sported initially by rappers. The number of luxury
buyers in the developed world is also being swelled by two other trends. First, consumers are increasingly
adopting a "trading up, trading down" shopping strategy. Many traditional mid-market shoppers are abandoning
middle-of-the-range products for a mix of lots of extremely cheap goods and a few genuine luxuries that they
would once have thought out of their price league.
Alongside this "selective extravagance" is the growth of "fractional ownership": timeshares in luxury goods and
services formerly available only to those paying full price. Fractional ownership first got noticed when firms such
as NetJets started selling access to private jets. It has since spread to luxury resorts, fast cars, and much more.
In America, From Bags to Riches - "better bags, better value" - lets less-well-off people rent designer handbags.
In Britain, Damon Hill, a former racing driver, has launched Pl International. A 2,500 ($4,300) joining fee, plus
annual membership of 13,750, buys around 50-70 driving days a year in cars ranging from a Range Rover
Sport to a Bentley or a Ferrari. As a result, "the price of entry for much of what traditionally was available to the
top 0.001 % is now far lower," says Mr Lawson, who notes the sorry implications for a would-be conspicuous
consumer: "How do I know if the guy who drives past me in a Ferrari owns it or is just renting it for the
weekend?"
Demand for luxury is also soaring from emerging economies such as Russia, India, Brazil, and China. Antoine
Colonna, an analyst at Merrill Lynch, estimates that last year, Chinese consumers already accounted for 11 % of
the worldwide revenues of luxury-goods firms, with most of their buying done outside mainland China. He
forecasts that by 2014, they will have overtaken both American and Japanese consumers, becoming the world's
leading luxury shoppers, yielding 24% of global revenues. These emerging consumers have a big appetite for
the top luxury brands - and the owners of those brands are increasingly keen to oblige. Russia is producing
today's most determinedly conspicuous consumers. Roman Abramovich, the best-known oligarch not in jail, has
conspicuously set new standards in buying mansions, ski resorts, and soccer teams. For the already rich,
strategies such as splashing out on ever-bigger houses, longer yachts or getting special treatment from luxurygoods firms do not contribute much marginal conspicuousness. Meanwhile, the list of new ways to get noticed
by the masses is shrinking fast. Even space tourism - impressive in 2001, when Dennis Tito paid Russia $20
million to visit the International Space Station - will soon be humdrum.
As it gets ever harder to consume conspicuously, are some traditional luxury consumers giving up trying?
According to Virginia Postrel, author of "The Substance of Style'', conspicuous consumption is much more
important when people are not far from being poor, as in today's emerging economies. In developed countries, in
particular, "status is always there, but the shift in the balance is towards enjoyment." For instance, the first thing
the newly super-rich tend to buy is a private plane. But that, she says, is "not so much about distinguishing
themselves from the masses as not being stuck with them in a security line". Yet rather than abandoning status
anxiety, the way the rich seek to display status may simply be getting more complex. As inequality grows again
in rich countries, some of the very rich worry about consumption that is so conspicuous to the masses that it
provokes them to try to take their wealth away. Some car-industry experts blame weak sales of the latest luxury
limousines on this fear.
As well as traditional conspicuous consumption and "self-treating'', Ledbury Research identifies two other
motives that are driving buying by the rich: connoisseurship and being an "early adopter". Both are arguably
consumption that is conspicuous only to those you really want to impress. Connoisseurs are people whom their
friends respect for their deep knowledge of, say, fine wine or handmade Swiss watches. Early adopters are
those who are first with a new technology. Silicon Valley millionaires currently impress their friends by buying an
amphibian vehicle to avoid the commuter traffic on the Bay Bridge. Several millionaires have already paid
$50,000 to clone their pet cat.
In America, at least, says Marian Salzman, a leading trend-spotter, the focus of conspicuous consumption is
increasingly on getting your children into the best schools and universities. Harvard may be today's ultimate
luxury good. Getting into the right clubs is also as important a social statement as ever. America's young wealthy
may currently be seen at the Core Club in New York: membership is by invitation only, with a joining fee of
$55,000 plus annual dues of $12,000.
But perhaps the true symbol of exalted status in the era of mass luxury is conspicuous non-consumption. This is
not just the growing tendency of the very rich to dress scruffily and drive beaten-up cars, as described by David
Brooks in "Bobos in Paradise". It is showing that you have more money than you know how to spend. So, for
example, philanthropy is increasingly fashionable, and multi-billion-dollar endowments such as the Bill and
Melinda Gates Foundation are certainly conspicuous. However, since the new philanthropists are keen to
demonstrate that their giving produces results, this does not quite meet Veblen's threshold of being a complete
waste of money. So, the laurels surely go to those who are so wealthy that they are willing to buy adverts
encouraging the state to tax them. Kudos, then, to those conspicuously non-consuming wealthy American
opponents of recent efforts to abolish estate taxes: George Soros, Bill Gates senior (the father of the world's
richest man), and Warren Buffett.
Decide whether the following statements are True, False, or Not Given
1. Virginia Postrel believes that the newly rich buy private planes mainly to show how rich they are.
2. Sales of luxury limousines are falling because very rich people don't want to appear to be very rich.
3. Very rich people generally have little genuine knowledge of fine wines.
4. Membership of the Core Club is just on the basis of wealth.
5. Warren Buffett wants the government to make him pay higher taxes.
TEXT 2: Cleaning up
The current row over climate change sounds all too familiar. Germany, host of this year's G8 summit, is trying to
get the world to agree on what to do when the Kyoto Protocol on curbing greenhouse gases runs out in 2012.
America, which dislikes the tough targets that the Europeans want the world to sign up to, is proposing separate
negotiations between the world's big emitters. Environmentalists accuse it of trying to sidetrack the issue. The
line-up is much like the one that led to America's withdrawal from the Kyoto agreement in 2001.
Yet to conclude from this that nothing has changed would be wrong. Attitudes have shifted sharply over the past
six years, most importantly among businesspeople. Until recently, business tended to take a dim view of the idea
that the climate was changing. The notion implied that industry had damaged the planet, and should therefore
pay for the consequences. Since companies couldn't see the damage they were supposed to have done, they
preferred, by and large, to argue that it wasn't happening.
No longer. These days businesspeople are falling over each other to prove their greenness. That's partly
because the politics of climate change have moved so fast in America. Five bills in Congress would introduce
federal controls. Most of the serious presidential candidates for 2008 favour them. California now has binding
targets to cut CO2 emissions, and other states plan to follow. Many chief executives have come round to the
view that federal controls would be better than a patchwork of state laws. And if federal regulations are coming,
companies need to support them, in order to be involved in designing them. Hence the need to be seen to be
green.
However, companies are not driven purely by fear of regulation. Cleaner energy means new technologies, and
new money to be made. Businesspeople concerned to position themselves well for a carbon-constrained future
must do more than get themselves photographed with Al Gore: they need to invest in technologies that will
produce cleaner energy. There's scope for new investment. In 2003, the most recent year for which figures are
available, America's power-generation business, arguably the world's biggest single polluter, spent a rather
smaller proportion of its revenues on R&D than did America's pet-food business. But that 's beginning to change,
as our survey this week makes clear.
Global investment in renewable power-generation, biofuels, and low-carbon technologies rose from $28 billion in
2004 to $71 billion in 2006, according to New Energy Finance, a research company. The stock prices of deanenergy companies have been rocketing up. Silicon Valley's venture capitalists are piling into the business,
convinced that they can design revolutionary technologies, bring down prices, and turf out incumbents in the
energy business just as they did in the software business. Oil firms, carmakers, power generators, nervous of
being out-manoeuvred, are jacking up their investments in renewables and biofuels.
As the likes of General Electric and BP put money into cleaner technologies, costs will fall. The price of a watt of
solar photovoltaic capacity dropped from around $20 in the 1970s to $2. 70 in 2004 (though a silicon shortage,
caused by rocketing demand as a result of madly generous German subsidies, has pushed it up since). The
price of wind power has fallen from $2 per kilowatt hour in the 1970s to 5-8 cents now, compared with 2-4 cents
for coal-fired power. More investment will bring prices down further; and, as the gap shrinks, so the costs of
switching from dirty energy to the clean sort will fall.
Yet business's new enthusiasm for clean energy is a fragile green shoot in a dark landscape. Much could
happen to crush it. A sustained fall in the oil price, for instance, would undermine investment in costlier, cleaner
technologies. But the bigger risk is political. Businesses are investing in alternatives to fossil fuels because they
assume that carbon emissions will be constrained in the future. If governments do not act to curb emissions,
those investments will eventually wither. The best way for governments to encourage investment in cleaner
energy is to make the polluter pay by putting a price on CO 2 emissions. According to the Intergovernmental
Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), the body set up under the auspices of the United Nations to establish a
consensus on global warming, a price of somewhere between $20 and $50 per tonne of CO 2 by 2020-30 should
start to stabilise CO2concentrations at around 550 parts per million (widely reckoned to be a safeish level) by the
end of this century. A $50 price tag would raise petrol prices in America by around 15% and electricity prices by
around 35% - hardly draconian when set alongside recent fluctuations. The IPCC reckons that stabilising at
550ppm would knock around 0.1 % off global economic growth annually.
A carbon price can be established either through a tax or through a cap-and-trade system, such as the one
Europe adopted after signing up to Kyoto. A carbon tax would be preferable, because companies would then be
able to build a fixed price into their investment plans; but businesspeople and politicians are both strangely
averse to the word "tax". A cap-and-trade system can be made to work, but the price has to settle at a level that
affects commercial decisions. Europe's hasn't: the price has been too volatile, and, for much of its existence, too
low, to shift investment patterns much.
Europe has tightened its system up, and the carbon price has risen to a level which could start to make a
difference. But Europe, by itself, will not save the planet. It is America that matters, not just because it is the
world's biggest polluter, but also because without its participation, the biggest polluters of the future - China and
India - will not do anything. The best news in the fight against climate change is that business is starting to invest
in clean energy seriously. But these investments will flourish only if governments are prepared to put a price on
carbon. The costs of doing that are not huge. The costs of not doing so might be.
Electronic-paper displays, first developed in the 1970s, are finally making their way into a number of products.
Appropriately enough, Sony and several other manufacturers are using the technology in portable "e-book"
devices intended to replace books and newspapers. Colour LCDs are grids of tiny shutters, each of which
decides how much light to let through from a "backlight" behind the screen. Electronic paper, conversely, relies
on ambient light from the surroundings, just like ink on paper - so electronic-paper displays are sharp and easy
to read in bright sunlight. Better still, once the screen has been set to display a page of text, no electrical power
is needed to keep it there; power is consumed only when the screen is updated, which can extend the battery
life of mobile devices.
The technology is also easy on the eye, says Nico Verplancke of IBBT, a Flemish research institute. Last year,
he oversaw a trial of electronic-paper technology carried out by De Tijd, a Belgian newspaper. The newspaper
asked 200 readers to evaluate an electronic edition displayed on the iLiad, a device made by iRex Technologies
of Eindhoven, in the Netherlands. Their responses to the display were favourable. "The reading experience was
pretty amazing," says Mr Verplancke. "It was very close to reading normal paper." E Sony has developed a
similar device called the Reader, which went on sale in America last autumn. Like the iLiad, it uses electronicpaper technology from E Ink, based in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Ink's technology has also been used in the Motofone, Motorola's low-cost mobile phone for the developing world,
a Seiko wristwatch, a weather station, and a flash-memory stick. And it will appear in a new mobile device with a
five-inch (13cm) roll-up display that will be introduced in Italy later this year. The "Librofonino", an e-book reader
with a cellular connection for receiving information, was developed by Polymer Vision, based in the Netherlands,
and will be sold by Telecom Italia.
A second emerging technology is based on organic light-emitting diodes (OLEDs). Such displays, which are
based on the electroluminescence of organic compounds, are said to be thinner and brighter than LCDs, and
offer wider viewing angles. Since they emit light directly, OLED displays do not need a backlight. So far OLED
displays have appeared mostly in small devices such as music players and as the secondary display on the
outside of mobile phones. Sales of OLED displays in 2006 reached $615m, says Vinita Jakhanwal of iSuppli, a
market research firm. But the technology is improving and annual sales will grow to around $3 billion in 2012,
she predicts.
The technology's main drawback is that OLED displays only have a lifetime of around 20,000 hours, or a little
over two years in continuous use, so they are not yet suitable for use in laptops or TVs. But those working on the
technology are optimistic that this problem can be solved. "Every year, the R&D team is making strides," says
Dave Das of Samsung. The South Korean electronics giant is one of the biggest backers of OLED displays. The
firm is already using the technology in some of its mobile phones and music players and introduced a prototype
TV with a 40-inch OLED screen in 2005. Samsung is one of the biggest manufacturers of LCD TVs, but OLED
technology could offer better brightness and contrast and faster response. "It's better at displaying fast-moving
images, for example a football game," says Mr Das.
Another emerging technology, called iMoD, is being developed by Qualcomm, an American firm that developed
the CDMA technology that underpins modern mobile phones. The idea is to exploit microscopic mechanical
structures that reflect light in such a way that specific wavelengths interfere with each other to create vivid
colours, like those of a butterfly's wings. (The name is derived from "interferometric modulator display".)
Qualcomm says this approach can produce pure, bright colours using very little power. It has demonstrated the
technology in prototype form and hopes to license it to handset makers. Marlene Bourne, an analyst who covers
the field of "microelectromechanical systems", says iMoD is an impressive technology. As with electronic paper
and OLEDs, it is certainly worth keeping an eye on.