Capitalism, says Eva Illouz, has been a powerful engine behind modern romantic love and the use of psychotherapy. In this interview, the Israeli sociologist discusses why money and emotions are more closely related than we imagine, how economically-oriented our private life is and whether money is becoming less potent as a status symbol in the wake of the financial crisis.
Has love changed since the introduction of money?
Money becomes a generalised medium of exchange with the emergence of capitalism. Prior to that, the labour market was restricted, the circulation of goods minimal and thus ownership the prerequisite for leading a pleasant life. There were only two ways to climb socially – and that was through inheritance or to marry wisely. Additionally, bondage was very widespread in the precapitalist world. But then, when the worker’s body became something that could be traded in a free market of labor, the worker could increase his wealth through intelligence and labour without having to surrender everything to an overlord, the standard of living suddenly ceased to be solely dependent on origins and marriage. Thus paradoxically the more monetized and capitalist an economy is, the more likely people are to marry for love – because marriage does not fulfil an economic vocation anymore.
In other words, freedom in love was a direct consequence of freedom of trade? Yes, the emergence of capitalism and the spread of romantic love went hand in hand. The free market economy released emotions from the bonds of economic necessity and this was given a further boost by industrialisation. The associated transfer of the production of goods from the household meant the family needed a new purpose and it was transformed from an economic to an emotional unit. To compensate for the discipline and competition and rationality of the atmosphere at the workplace, the home suddenly became a place of solace, authenticity and intimacy. And, for the first time in history, this made marriage for love not only legitimate for everyone but also highly desirable. Thus, capitalist society not only put the focus on the economic advancement of the individual but also reinvented private life with the search for emotional fulfilment becoming the main purpose in life. The intensification of private is the other side of the capitalist coin.
in your book “consuming the romantic utopia,” you show that the market is making increasing use of these private emotions, which used to act as a counterweight.
Yes, it is an interesting vicious and virtuous circle. Today, most people consume mainly to improve their social relationships. This means, we must try to earn more and more money so we can buy those things we believe we need to counter the alienation involved in working, obtaining money. We use money to better our emotional and personal lives. For example, we treat ourselves to luxury vacations to spend as much time as possible with our loved ones. We use enticing clothes, cosmetics and perfumes to attract potential partners – and to keep them. We buy cell phones to be easily reached by those we care about. When I was working on my book and wanted to find out what romance meant for people, almost everyone answered associate romance with candlelight dinners, Champagne, a visit to the cinema, a bouquet of roses. Depending on one’s financial circumstances, one takes a bottle of red wine and drives to the riverside in an old Saab. Or one flies to Paris for a weekend and proposes marriage on the Eiffel Tower. That is, people use goods, consume goods to put themselves and others in romantic situations. Thus, two processes took place concurrently – the reification of romantic love and the romanticization of goods: to experience romance you have to consume goods, and goods acquire a romantic meaning.
When and why did these developments take place?
They took place alongside the increase in the standard of living, which made it possible to spend more and more money on things unnecessary for survival. And alongside the gradual emergence of a culture of leisure, which increasingly commercialised the “need for regeneration” and, therefore, romance. A variety of facilities, such as the first dance halls, amusement parks and, above all, cinemas, were built and gave the notion of romantic love a further boost. Interestingly, the commercialisation of romance also contributed to its decline with the divorce rate having risen constantly from the beginning of the 20th century. This was due, in particular, to the ideal of romantic love propagated by the media, a concept that awakened expectations that were, on the one hand, legitimate and, on the other hand, exaggerated. We can see the effect of consumption in the fact that one of the most common reasons for divorce was the dispute about the household budget. Many women considered their husbands to be stingy. For their part, the men regarded their wives as profligate – as being addicted to consumption and pleasure.
the economisation of love continues to push its way into more and more aspects of our daily life. a striking symptom of this is that we have completely transferred the language of business to the vocabulary we use for relationships.
That’s right. We investigate our “market value” on dating sites and carry out relationship work – and when we have the feeling that we are giving more than we are receiving, we check whether everything adds up. Today, it is not only necessary that the chemistry works, the (emotional) accounts must also be balanced. And, in many cases, we don’t want to draw a line under a relationship because we have invested so much of ourselves in it – and we’d like a return on our investment, if you please. Now, although the production of goods is no longer carried out at home, we have more or less brought work back there on another plane.
How did this come about?
There is a general trend towards understanding all areas of life in economic terms. That’s why we view our emotional life along the lines of a financial budget. Today, the primary goal in life is to exploit our potential to the full. Coaches teach us to manage our emotions and to make our self into a productive unit. We regard making our dysfunctional soul functional again as an investment in our private and vocational future. And, incidentally, this is a highly profitable business. Ten years ago, one of two Americans used therapy in some form or other at least once in their lifetimes. Today, it is probably two out of every three.
Do you believe that not only the concept of romantic love but also psychotherapy arose directly from the spirit of capitalism?
Let’s put it this way – both are deeply rooted in the same protestant ideal of always striving for economic success. However, it was also Protestantism that abolished the catholic indulgences. In the time before Luther, it was commonplace for citizens to purchase redemption from their venial sins. Today, psychotherapy has assumed this role to a certain extent. Inter alia, we pay to be able to identify our errors as unconscious reactions to earlier deficits so we can forgive ourselves more easily. Additionally, since money became a religion and everyone holds the social position he or she has “earned,” we can no longer make God responsible for our fate. Only we hold our fate in our hands. Yet at the same time psychotherapy suggests that we can undo most of the damage that was done to us, that we can control our lives and destiny. Beyond the illusion of freedom it gives, that is an enormous psychological burden.
Let’s take a look into the future. do you think that the shockwaves of the global financial crisis and the continuing high volatility of the stock markets will change our attitude towards money? Will there be ever fewer “certain values” and, therefore, a decline in the power of status symbols? For example, will the number of Facebook friends or a demonstrative ecological commitment perhaps count more than the amount on one’s bank account?
It’s difficult to say. I have the impression that we have not so much lost our faith in money as in the elites who manage it for us. In my opinion, the change is taking place more on this plane. The relationship to our financial system is actually comparable to a married couple. We have been betrayed but have decided to try again. As a result of the crisis, we are no longer as trusting as we were, and have become more watchful. And we take steps to ensure it doesn’t happen to us again.
Eva Illouz is Full Professor of Sociology and Anthropology at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. For many years, she has been researching into the social and economic factors that influence the formation of emotions. Her best known books include “Consuming the Romantic Utopia” (2003) and “Cold Intimacies: The Making of Emotional Capitalism” (2006). In 2009, Germany’s “Die Zeit” newspaper named her as one of the twelve intellectuals who are most likely to influence thinking in the future.