Conspicuous Consumption and the Law Student

-- By DavidGarfinkel - 16 Apr 2010

Conspicuous Consumption as a Useful Metaphor

In The Theory of the Leisure Class, Veblen discusses how the competitive and hierarchal nature of society often creates conspicuous consumption. He contends that conspicuous consumption necessitates demonstrating status in the form of visual indicators. Veblen's conspicuous consumption can serve as a useful framework for understanding part of the law student's decision making process and why that process often results in so many students “pawning off their licenses.” This essay intends to go beyond the mere material aspect of conspicuous consumption, which is obviously prevalent throughout American society and exists within the law school. What interests me more are the different shapes conspicuous consumption takes upon entering law school and what processes shape this new form that leads to the eventual decision to pawn our licenses.

The New Competition and Hierarchy Created by Law School

Upon entering college, students are suddenly displaced from the traditional society they originated from. For most 18 year olds in the upper-middle class, college is their first true experiment in freedom. Students are whisked away from the societal competition and hierarchy of their parents. Part of this results from students no longer being part of a society divided between an industrial class and a leisure class, but instead being in a new society made entirely of the leisure class with limited financial capabilities. In many aspects, humanity is competitive and hierarchical by nature. These competitive elements inevitably seep in and take on some form as the college student strives to establish his place relative to his peers. However, this competitive process takes an accelerated form with the beginning of law school application process. The student (many of which will start law school relatively soon after graduating from college) begins to realize that society is even more hierarchal and that there are tiers within the leisure class. And the first true commodity the student has as an indicator of his future position is the law school name: rankings play a predominant role in which school most students will choose (in some respects, the individual encounters his first Geffen good).

Competition and hierarchy are reinforced upon starting law school. This is where law school in many ways differentiates itself from many other types of graduate institutions.

I don't think this assertion is adequately supported (or even true). My roommate is in the poetry program and it is quite different in how it grades its students. Nevertheless, there is still competition—it is simply manifesting itself in less recognizable forms. They battle to publish, get on a journal, teachers attention, etc. But of course, poetry is but one graduate instution. I think this sentence absolutely falls apart once you look into other, less artsy, professional or graduate programs. However, I don't think this is a bad point, as long as it is slightly tweaked.

The next sentence gets to where I think this needs to go: the curve. I think there are many points to be made about how the curve and how it ties into Veblen. To me, it is a deceiving cover reflecting not how hard productive one is or how good of an attorney that person will be, but rather reflects superficial qualities—if it reflects anything at all! And, the curve (the hierarchy) creates waste because it tells you nothing about (a) how well people are being taught or (b) how well people are learning. Just some thoughts.

Columbia Law School, for instance, creates elements of competition and hierarchy through its grading curve and doling out of titles, like Stone and Kent. But the hierarchical elements of law school run even deeper. Students enter the law school with a concept of hierarchy due to the fact that their acceptance was based significantly on how they did in comparison to everyone else on a single test.

I'm going to repeat my objection here, only because most enter college with a test score. Almost all American post-secondary instutions have test scores. My high school program had test scores! Law school may place an unhealthy reliance on a test score. I just don't think this is a strong point.

And following the beginning of classes, students are asked to apply to a variety of programs and positions with limited seats, such as moot courts, fellowships, and board positions. The first day the school creates an atmosphere that stratifies students, and to ensure a sense of security in position, like the members of the leisure class Veblen discusses, students who cannot demonstrate material wealth, for financial and cultural reasons, must look for other “commodities” to serve as a demonstration of their position in the micro-society of law school. First semester grades end up become the go-to commodity and the lengths students go to try get top marks is similar to the efforts investment people put into attaining material objects. In some sense, there is a similar fetishization of grades that one sees in certain material objects. And this process is continually renewed through new arenas, from summer job searches to clinic/journal applications—especially law review.

Pawning Our License as the beginning of a new conspicuous consumption

The problem the law student faces in her attempt to attain these titles and objects of status is the realization that they do not carry over after law school, let alone after the first year or two of law school.

I still have problems with this paragraphs for two reasons. (1) It just is not true. As I mentioned Stone and Kent carry over. Maybe extracurriculars don't but maybe they do. Either way, there is no evidence to support this (and no way you can get it). (2) The more important issue is that these titles might be meaningless from the start. Certainly a debatable proposition, but, many of these titles are quite useless ornaments on the law school resume. (3) Again, I think you are treading shallow water here—you fail to differentiate law school from any other institution. This seems like a problem with American education in general. Specifically, I think this is more of a problem at the high school/college level.

So instead EIP becomes the gateway into a competition with a more lasting impact, as students compete to get into top law firms. Again, this decision is significantly colored by the ranking of the individual firm, with sights set on achieving the coveted title of associate at Sullivan or Wachtell, etc.

Unless you are attached to this line, I think it should go. For me, I know it is false. I also know a couple classmates who care more about location, size, etc. than ranking. Which sort of goes to rebut your next point about it being a Geffen good. I think the line could stay, but it needs to be qualified in a heavy manner, which is, that people end up working at the firm for prestige vs. what would make them truly happy in life. My subsequent edits reflect this.

The individual is willing to sacrifice a higher amount of time, happiness, and personal worth to get into a big firm. The lawyer is reduced to a line on a business card. And for the prestige the lawyer creates waste, making less per hour than other potential opportunities. The status symbol of the law firm gives the student something to hold onto. The firm distinguishes his place in the social hierarchy with more obvious effect than grades and titles. So by the beginning of the third year, most law students have transitioned from the old social hierarchies of college and law school to the hierarchy of the leisure class of America, the point one arrives at after graduation. And as the lawyer becomes more entrenched in his new position in the hierarchy, it becomes harder to regain the pawned license. The individual is forced into new competitions that will define his status and actively takes part in the material aspect of conspicuous consumption that was central to Veblen’s thesis.

My edits are interspersed throughout. I see no need to post the original as it can be accesses through the history function.

In my opinion, there are three directions you can go with this. The first is preserving the general structure and just fine tuning the weak points of the argument (the realistic option with exams approaching). Beyond that, there are two possibilities: focus a little on the curve. I think that there are powerful implications of a clinging to normalized bell curve that speaks powerfully to your point. I didn't add them, because I think that goes beyond the job of an editor. But one does not have to think long about some of the sinister implications of a forced curve: it can mask bad teaching, it differentiates on meaningless criteria, and it does not tell you anything about the disparity of student quality. I think some of these ideas can be rolled into your paper and some can't. Third, it is just my opinion that this paper could be better off losing Veblen and instead focusing more on hierarchical / class structures. My favorite part of the paper deals with how you talk about going from one hierarchy to the next. It sort of conjured up an image in my mind where in high school we all were on a large totem pole and then the top 1/3 was shaved off the top and shuffled up on another totem pole whereby the top 1/3...etc. I see many directions you can take this, all of which look promising. I think it is just a question of time and how well I am interpreting your feelings on the issue.