The Long-Awaited Silver Lining?

NPR's All Things Considered ran a great story on Tuesday's program asking experts of various stripes (futurists, historians, urbanists and the like) to imagine what America might look like when it emerges from what appears likely to be a transformative recession. And there, in the midst of all the gloomy theories, I heard what sounded to me like a major opportunity for those of us who make our living in the arts.

One of the experts pointed out that recent surveys of affluent Americans indicated that they are responding to the recession by cutting back on what they spend on "things," but not what they spend on "experiences." In other words, people who still have some pocket change to spend on luxury items are continuing to go out to movies, plays, concerts, and restaurants, but they're cutting back on the amount of actual stuff they acquire.

The same expert who pointed out this phenomenon goes on to speculate that America's retail sales may take a permanent hit even after the economy returns to positive growth, and that bankrupt chain stores like Circuit City and Linens 'N Things are unlikely to be replaced by similar stores if this recession results, as many believe it will, in a fundamental shift in American attitudes about money and what we do with it. If we no longer find it necessary to acquire as much physical stuff as we once did, there simply won't be a need for as many stores to peddle that stuff.

Now, economic shifts are always painful, and I don't mean to suggest that those of us peddling Experiences instead of Stuff should be rejoicing at the closing of our local big box retailers. Fewer stores obviously mean, at least in the short term, more people out of work, and therefore fewer people in a position to even make the choice between spending on the Minnesota Orchestra's Experiences or Best Buy's Stuff.

Still, the idea that Americans might move away from using the acquisition of material goods as a barometer of our success and happiness, and towards a greater interest in the experiences that the world has to offer, is frighteningly seductive, and it made me think of our orchestra's recent tour of Europe. While staying with friends in Vienna, I noticed that it is not at all uncommon there for people with what most of us would consider a good deal of money to live in relatively modest apartments without much in the way of material trappings.

But these same people think nothing of dropping €100 or more on a ticket to opening night at the Wiener Staatsoper. Which, of course, is no less ostentatious than spending €100 on some gewgaw for the mantelpiece of your 3000-square-foot suburban palace with 2-acre lawn. It's just different. And that difference - wealthy and even moderately well-off citizens choosing to spend their money on Experiences rather than Stuff - is what makes Vienna the cultural mecca that it is.

Obviously, no one really knows what the fallout from this period in our economic history will be, and how long it will take for everyone to define our own new "normal." But if you ask me, the possibility that Americans might choose to start leaning away from material consumption and towards experiential consumption is something that arts groups ought to be salivating over, and seriously preparing for.