The world is full of
people in creative occupations. Taking a broad view of creative occupations as
those involving work with personal shaping of the product and service, about 40
percent of the world’s workers are in these occupations. Among them, artists
and craftspeople are the ones we most readily associate with creative work
because they instill their work not only with personal design and careful
craftwork but also with a passion that makes each piece a labor of love. We
recognize this most readily with artists making one-of-a-kind works, but many
craftspeople turning out decorative items also make each piece an individual
expression. They should get paid well for this, right?
Maybe not. In a new article in Administrative Science Quarterly, Aruna Ranganathan studied the
pricing of wood bangles made by craftspeople in southern India, finding that
the artistic ambitions of the craftspeople had a surprising effect on the
prices they charged, relative to prices charged by traders selling exactly the
same goods but not involved in their creation: they gave a discount to buyers
who appeared to be especially appreciative of their work. The reason became
clear from how they described their work. Unlike traders, who freely admitted
selling crafted work just to make money, the craftspeople took personal pride
in every piece they made and were especially attached to the best ones. Some items
they refused to sell; others they made sure to sell to people who seemed likely
to appreciate them and display them prominently.
This makes sense,
because every artist wants to be acknowledged and wants the work to be
appreciated. Indeed, this was especially important to the craftspeople
Ranganathan studied, who saw their work as having such strong elements of the
sacred that they viewed their workshops as being like temples. But what’s harder
to understand is how craftspeople determine whether someone will appreciate
their work. Not every transaction involves words, especially in an area that
attracts many tourists who don’t speak the local language, as was the case in
Ranganathan’s study. Instead, the craftspeople looked at the customers. And the
financial decisions they made based on what they saw might be surprising.
If a customer wore handcrafted
jewelry or clothing, or carried a handbag made from natural fibers, the
craftspeople considered these clear signals that they would appreciate great
craftwork. The craftspeople also believed that foreign tourists, who are fairly
easily identified, would see their work as more exotic and be more likely to
appreciate it. These two groups have something in common: they are likely to be
wealthier than local customers wearing inexpensive items such as plastic
jewelry and carrying synthetic handbags. Yet the craftspeople offered discounts
to both of the wealthier groups and charged more—market price or even above—to
the poorer customers. Market price (or higher) for the poor, discounts for the
rich. It seems strange and unfair, but in creative work money is just part of
the transaction—appreciation is the other part, and for the artist, this is a
tradeoff.
In reporting evidence
from social science, we often end up looking at behaviors that make sense on
one dimension and not on another. I perfectly understand the artist who is
willing to give a discount to have a piece appreciated. I don’t like the idea
of the richest customers getting discounts. I suppose the best thing to do is
not to bargain too much when buying art as a tourist. Hand-crafted items from
local artisans should provide the artisan with both appreciation and a better
standard of living.
