
The fundamental impulse that sets
and keeps the capitalist engine in motion comes from the new
consumers, goods, the new methods of production or transportation,
the new markets, the new forms of industrial organization that
capitalist enterprise creates.
— Joseph Schumpeter,
Creative destructionSunday afternoon, like many other Borders Books sometime customers, I received an emailed sale coupon. After this desperately discounted Christmas retailing season, 40% off everything didn't seem like much of a deal. Since they were a closing a store, shouldn't the bargains be even greater?
It didn't matter, since the fine print noted the store they were closing was in Sacramento. Turns out this was not an invitation to jump on a plane or click through to the website.
It was just a mistake by another company circling the drain as its entire industry restructures into oblivion.
If moving from browsing dusty and incomplete local stores to zipping through seemingly limitless virtual storehouses was the extent of the change to the book business, I'd still be saddened, but could appreciate the trade offs of more titles for less immediacy, of lower cost for a different shopping experience.
Thirty-odd years ago, I had a small business selling used books out
of the house via the national network of sellers that subscribed to
Antiquarian Bookman. The weekly publication listed books customers were
seeking. Shops and independent book scouts like me scoured the fine
print for titles we had for sale. We'd scribble our price on a post
card along with a shorthand description of the edition and its
condition. Weeks later, we might make a sale, which we would package
and send to the retailer.
Today, that process is nearly
instantaneous and includes not just the book specialists who know what
they are selling, but amateurs who just want to clean out their
shelves.
I'm not sure winding the book business down to zero is precisely what Schumpeter had in mind when he said:
But in capitalist
reality as distinguished from its textbook picture [what counts is] the competition from
the new commodity, the new technology, the new source of supply,
the new type of organization (the largest-scale unit of control
for instance) – competition which commands a decisive cost or
quality advantage and which strikes not at the margins of the
profits and the outputs of the existing firms but at their foundations
and their very lives. This kind of competition is as much more
effective than the other as a bombardment is in comparison with
forcing a door...
As the bombardment continues in the distance, you can hear authors rhapsodizing about Kindle.
"This is the future of book reading. It will be everywhere," says Michael Lewis. And maybe he's right; the e-book reader (really a personal Amazon purchase kiosk) might be everywhere.
But what about the books?
As David Streitfeld wrote, more is changing than the way of buying books or what what physical form they take. Creative destruction is moving upstream to the publishers and closer to the creators. It's getting harder to make money from the original creative product.
Streitfeld finds online dozens of copies of a newly published paperback he's seeking available for as little as one cent, plus shipping.
How much do I want to pay,
and where do I want that money to go? To my local community via a
bookstore? To the publisher? To the author?
In theory, I want to support all of these fine folks. In practice, I decide to save a buck.
He buys a hardcover edition for 25 cents.
Jon Pareles describes how the process has evolved in pop music, where the destruction of local record stores
is only the tip of a melting ice berg. Songs and entire albums are being produced with
licensing, not listeners, in mind, because that's where the revenue is.
Selling recordings to consumers as inexpensive artworks to be
appreciated for their own sake is a much-diminished enterprise now that
free copies multiply across the Web.
While people still love music enough to track it down, collect it, argue over it and judge their Facebook
friends by it, many see no reason to pay for it. The emerging practical
solution is to let music sell something else: a concert, a T-shirt,
Web-site pop-up ads or a brand.
Gillian Welch described it, too.
Everything is free now,
That's what they say.
Everything I ever done,
Gotta give it away.
Someone hit the big score.
They figured it out,
That we're gonna do it anyway,
Even if doesn't pay.
But writing a book for free is still a very different decision than recording a song or putting up this post — even a thousand more in a year. Investigating a corrupt administration involves a different commitment than opining about someone else's reporting.
This lament is not new, and for now the amazing access we have to a still-unfolding proliferation of content makes it seem consumers have made the better bargain. The creators can play or be destroyed.
But perhaps we, too, are being creatively destroyed, little by little.
Consuming an entire book may soon seem as archaic as sitting still for the recitation of an epic poem or memorizing the catechism.
Or discovering a creative artist who is not yet a capitalist.
Recent Comments