Free to Those Who Can Afford It A Research Agenda for the Everyday

Free to Those Who Can Afford It: A Research Agenda for the Everyday Affordance of Privilege ABSTRACT In recent decades, the study of stratification has expanded in focus from poverty to its counter position of privilege, conceived of as an institutionalized package of economic, social and cultural advantages. In this paper, we argue that zero-priced material goods, known as ‘free stuff,’ comprise the unacknowledged glue holding this institutionalized set of passes in place in everyday life. Free stuff, from corporate perks to meal accoutrements and easy access to wifi and bathrooms, resembles a non-market transaction, therefore rendering it largely invisible to both consumers and scholars. We contend that free stuff is central to the economy and stratification hierarchies within it. We position freebies within theories of gift exchange and agree that there is ‘no such thing as a free lunch,’ since zero-priced products are embedded in systems of exchange. However such exchanges enact a higher toll for the poor and the working classes than for professionals and elites. Free stuff does important work; it eases social interaction and adds value to unrewarding labor arrangements, an argument we develop with evidence from three cases of recipients of ‘freebies:’ the professional, the culture industry promoter, and the poor urban dweller. Through comparison of each of these cases, we build an argument that freebies and perks are affordances of class position, whether in their abundance in the case of the professional’s ease with perks or in their absence in the case of the pauper’s subsistence. We conclude by putting forward a theory of free stuff and inequality: the higher-up recipients are on the class hierarchy, the more invisible are the costs of their perks. 1. INTRODUCTION Privilege has been revived in stratification studies, and elites foregrounded in a sociological tradition historically centered on poverty. Although Veblen’s (1899) early attention to the ‘leisure class’ was echoed occasionally over the past century (e.g. Cookson and Persell 1985), the study of elites was powerfully reinvigorated in Anglophone sociology by the wide dissemination of Pierre Bourdieu’s work on cultural capital (1984; 1996). Scholarship since then, especially focused on education and consumption, has sought to uncover the mechanisms by which privilege is created, exercised, and reproduced (Karabel 2005; Khan 2011; Savage and Williams 2008; Sherman 2007; Stevens 2007). Such research is imperative in our times; we are witnessing an extraordinary rise in inequality in America, such that in 2007 the top one percent of Americans controlled 23.5 percent of the country’s income, the highest share since the 1920s. 2 Income inequality transforms the standards of belonging in a consumer culture, afflicting middle class families with economic insecurity and spreading “affluenza” (Frank 1999). Within sociology, privilege is conceived as an institutional structure continually reproduced through actions that enable social and economic advantages—whether enabling some to claim belonging to elite institutions (Benzecry 2009; Bourdieu and Passeron 1977) or to feel at ease in a variety of social settings (Khan 2011; Sherman 2004). However, a key accessory of privilege that has been overlooked is the set of goods priced at zero, which we call ‘free stuff.’ The inverse of spending, free stuff is commonly known as ‘perks,’ ‘freebies,’ ‘comped’ (‘complimentary’) products, and ‘swag.’ Free stuff, by virtue of its relative invisibility to recipients and its seeming marginality in traditional definitions of the economy, has largely gone unnoticed in sociology. However, free stuff does important work; it is central to the functioning of organizations, jobs, economies and class hierarchies. Because of its unequal availability to people depending on their position in social strata, free stuff works like an invisible glue supporting class hierarchy in everyday life. We offer an analysis of class advantage that begins with access to material stuff, in all its manifestations from napkins, condiments, loyalty customer ‘points,’ wifi, paper clips, private jets, vacations, drinks, toilet paper, and dinners, to name a few. This stuff is central to elite advantage and social closure, and the flipside is also true: daily challenges await those who can’t afford free stuff—an irony we will explain. In this article, we trace the flow of free stuff to develop an ‘affordance’ perspective of privilege. This perspective focuses attention on exactly how resources, from cash to cultural capital, are made useful in day-to-day life. Affordances offer a broader way to think of economic advantage and disadvantage than currently possible with standard measures of income and wealth. Unlike income and wealth, affordances are not merely fungible or reducible to monetary sums. The value of free stuff is not only in what one can fetch for it on the market, but also in what it enables recipients to do and the time it frees up in not having retrieve, find, or even think about. But scholars of symbolic and material wealth have not taken notice of the small and subtle but enormously consequential stuff that comes with, and upholds, class position. This article first engages with strands in economic sociology to outline the multiple meanings of the price of zero. Next we introduce the ‘affordance’ of stuff as a material and routine basis for privilege. These ideas are put to use as we follow the circulation of free stuff in three case studies: the corporate professional, the culture industry promoter, and the ‘down and out’ urban outcast. We argue that free stuff is irreducible to economic value, because its affordance values are worked seamlessly into social experience; because it ‘does work’ when used as a device to manipulate labor in cultural economies; and because its apparent ‘freeness’ masks what can be at times staggering retrieval costs, often borne by the most vulnerable populations. Thus we propose a theory for the centrality of freebies in social stratification: free stuff is part of class structure; its costs become less visible as one moves higher up the class ladder. 2. THE SPECIAL MEANING OF ZERO: DIFFERENTIATING COMPENSATION AND COMPLIMENTARITY Within the ‘new’ economic sociology, compensation has gained prominence as a relational and variable practice that is instrumental in marking the social value of workers, their labor, and their relationships (Zelizer 1996). Qualitative distinctions between types of compensation have been shown to symbolize social relations among people at work, such as the peculiar payment of the bonus, which in residential apartments buildings, symbolizes relationships between and among tenants and their doormen (Bearman 2005). When cash is unavailable, tokens will do: witness the many faces of cigarettes as currency in prison economies (Thompkins and Riggs forthcoming), and the myriad types of media and barter arrangements that the poor rely on for survival (Venkatesh 2006). Beyond these widespread varieties of media, we know that people also earmark money, endowing tokens and even cash (cold and hard in Simmel’s classic formulation) with multiple social meanings (Zelizer 1994). For instance, to the fashion model and the prostitute alike, earnings in their unpredictable markets are viewed as ‘easy money’ (Mears and Finlay 2005; Murphy and Venkatesh 2006). For the prostitute, easy money functions differently from formal labor market wages with an ‘easy come, easy go’ feel to it, spent as rapidly as earned on nonessentials like clothing and drugs. Money itself should not be seen as a ‘neutral veil,’ as in orthodox economic theory, but a social device and technology (MacKenzie, Muniesa and Siu 2007). Those that have this device are able to establish themselves as central social and political agents with access to wider channels of power. While theoretical work has traced the relationship between money and social power (Savage and Williams 2008), a comprehensive examination of elites would be incomplete without attention to non-monetary media like freebies. In keeping with economic sociology’s goal of expanding traditional definitions of the economy, we turn our attention to a seemingly trivial, marginal, and even non-economic practice: the circulation of free stuff. The designation ‘free’ is a temporary label through which goods move in and out over their ‘careers’ depending upon social contexts. Things once thought free may become commensurate with a price tag, such as clean air in environmental law (Espeland 2002) or plastic bags at the grocery store, occasionally now priced at $0.05 to incentivize their disuse. Similarly, companies may try to change consumer expectations for freebies, such as Pandora.com and the New York Times, both of which now charge for formerly free web content. Toothpicks and plastic straws start their careers as major commodities and tend to end them as giveaways (Appadurai 1986). Designations of ‘free’ are thus situational. Here we are concerned with such goods and services which have either an alternate or prior status as commodities but which are, in certain contexts and for certain people, rendered as nonmarket goods. It is this suspension of price that drives our interest: who gets which freebies, and why do they get them? Free stuff thus includes a wide range of goods and services, on one end are the taken-forgranted accoutrements of middle-class life like napkins and condiments and restrooms stocked with toilet paper at the ready. At the other end are ‘perks’ like private company jets to executives, swag bags to celebrities (Glaister 2005), corporate subsidies such as tax breaks for corporate retailers (Jonhston 2007), write-offs of personal expenses for business owners and freelancers, and the gifts and travel opportunities lavished on physicians by U.S. pharmaceutical firms. In between are things which flow more freely in some networks and professional contexts than others—from comped meals at new restaurants and theater tickets in empty playhouses, samples in retail stores and the giveaways of caffeinated beverages on college campuses and alcoholic ones in nightclubs. How should we delineate among the many media that range in purpose from compensation to complementary? Economists typically deal with wages and prices—defined as explicit quid pro quo formal market exchanges. Beyond wages and prices are murkier sociological waters: tips, bribes, fringe benefits, gifts, and perks. The tip is a customary extra supposedly made as payment for service, in deference to norms, or belief in karma (Bearman 2005 pp. 175 - 180; Rose-Ackerman 1998). In labor market studies, perks are typically conceptualized as fringe benefits from employment, which in the American setting, tends to mean private employment-based health insurance (Dobbin 1992), but professional perks can and do include far grander gestures. The difference between a bribe and a gift is largely one of legal classification and moral label; bribes are not inherently bad, they could in fact lead to more efficient markets (Rose-Ackerman 1998). Within this standard typology, free stuff, that which is complimentary, resembles the gift, and unlike the bribe, tip, or fringe benefit, is likely to be understood by receivers as something-for-nothing. As Marcel Mauss originally formulated, the gift may appear complimentary but it hardly comes free of cost; all gifts come with an expectation of social obligation and future reciprocity (Mauss 1954). Such expenses are blunted out of visibility in the gift exchange process, usually by a time delay that sufficiently hides the payback for all involved. As Michel Callon argues, whether or not an item given is understood as quid pro quo or as gift depends on how the exchange is framed, and crucially, when it is transacted (Callon 1998 p. 13-15). Interested calculativeness is ‘framed’ if the gift and the counter-gift link together too soon. Yet if enough time passes in the interval, the obligation goes unnoticed and ‘amnesia’ prevails in framing the exchange as disinterested non-calculativeness (see also Bourdieu 1984). Our aim is to analyze the central role of free stuff in upholding economic structure, thus expanding dominant conceptions of the economy beyond atomized cash exchange. This was also Mauss’ original agenda, despite his gift economy being grossly misread by contemporaries as an opposition between “the primitives” with non-monetary exchange and “the moderns” with rational calculation of money. In fact, Mauss sought to position primitives and their communal orientation alongside modern forms of individualistic commerce, exposing the ideological divide between them as false (Hart 2001). 3 The idea of invisible webs of exchange behind free stuff is well-established in libertarian economics, as in the mantra, ‘there’s no such thing as a free lunch,’ a phrase made famous by Milton Friedman whose 1975 book immortalized the saying in the title. Free lunch itself is a much older term referring to cold meat and cheese platters offered in 19th century pubs, which made up for the expense with back-door charges like steeper drink prices. In the neoclassical view, ‘free lunches’ in the form of public goods, like healthcare, public parks, and yes, subsidized school lunches, run on taxpayer subsidies at the cost of hindering private enterprise. Or, the opposite allocation of public funds can be argued in the case of ballooning subsidies to corporations, in which taxpayers foot the bill for private industry to run amok (Johnston 2009). Despite these competing ideological tints behind the saying, ‘no such things as a free lunch’ generally refers to hidden costs, often in the form of time or resources. Stuff may appear free to observers and actors alike, but someone picks up the tab—either in the form of amnesiadisguised obligation in gift exchange theory or in back-door charges. What, then, are the various meanings of things perceived as free? As Viviana Zelizer has argued, contrary to Simmel’s worried claim that big sums of money wield dangerously large shares of social power, small sums can sometimes be the most symbolically powerful. Zelizer found that in 19th century France, one franc may be awarded to parents for a child’s wrongful death (1994, p. 19-20). This franc symbolique is endowed with enormous weight that no hefty fine could match. Like this small sum, a price of zero has greater meanings than its economic worth. Free stuff may in fact be priceless. It comes with an affective bonus for recipients. In behavioral economics, the special feeling from goods priced at zero have been amply demonstrated. People attach special meaning to free things, and consumers perceive the benefits of free products higher than goods priced cheaply, beyond what economic models of cost-benefit analysis would predict (Shampanier, Mazar and Ariely 2007). 4 When Amazon.com, for instance, introduced free shipping to some countries in Europe, a glitch led to the price in France being fixed at one franc rather than zero. This tiny sum (about $0.10 US) was enough to prevent significant changes in Amazon orders in France, while the rest of Europe with free shipping enjoyed a relative online shopping bonanza (Shampanier, Mazar and Ariely 2007). The meanings of freebies are also contextual. While retail consumers may react positively to free items, consumers of sexual services prefer to pay full cost. As Elizabeth Bernstein finds, escorts and high-end prostitutes offer freebies and discounts to reward loyal customers, but customers adamantly refuse; waiving monetary payment threatens to undermine the constructed boundaries between sexual exchange and real intimacy (Bernstein 2007). Hence, freebies, despite their economic value at zero, can have enormous social meanings. The goodie bag is a useful example. Also known as the swag bag, it contains various and usually non-essential items packaged into a neat duffle bag given to high-profile tastemakers and celebrities in attendance at parties, award ceremonies and such. 5 The value of celebrity swag bags has grown in size and notoriety, most visibly at the Oscars Awards, which in 2005 gave away goodies including designer champagne, vouchers for cruise vacations, and caviar eye cream, to the value of $120,000 (Glaister 2005). An informal sampling of newspaper reports indicate that gift bags have proliferated at award ceremonies in the last decade, their contents ratcheting up in an attempt to outdo last year’s shows. In fact, at the 2011 Oscars Awards, mere bags could not contain the swag; a ‘goodie room,’ also called the ‘luxury lodge,’ was on hand for nominees to more easily transport large merchandise (plasma televisions, etc). Grandiose swag has consequences. It spills over into consumer culture to exacerbate relative poverty: in one popular account, the escalating value of award show goodie bags is putting strain upon uppermiddle class families who routinely dole out goodie bag at their children’s parties (Ayres 2006). Applying gift exchange theory, we may locate celebrity swag as compensation for celebrities’ implied endorsements, itself a huge and growing enterprise (Kurzman et al. 2007). The president of a gift company has defined the gift bag as an economic transaction, noting that celebrities ‘are the trendsetters and can make the difference for a product’ (Glaister 2005). In addition to indirectly endorsing free goods, swag functions to ‘thank’ celebrities for attending the show. Without stars to walk the red carpet in (oftentimes borrowed or gifted) clothing and jewels, the shows would generate little interest or advertising revenue. Hence, the goodie room is indirect payment for stars bestowing their status on an event. This is, in fact, how the IRS sees it: swag recipients are required to report and pay taxes on freebies, since ‘donating’ sponsors write them off as business expenses paid for publicity purposes. 6 For the recipient of swag, however, it is unlikely to be recognized as anything but something-for-nothing. It requires no immediate effort or reciprocity. The stuff comes their way because they are just being; they may be exchanging something (being famous) but the obligation has no recognizable effort. The celebrity gets a goodie room for doing just what celebrities do: showing up (which, in turn, enhances their own profiles). The affective outcome of getting lavish goods seemingly for free are likely enormous. One sponsor coordinate refers to award season as ‘celebrity Christmastime,’ noting that ‘Even the richest person in the world still gets excited by being gifted’ (in Kurzman et al 2007). Complimentary stuff is, after all, a compliment, an acknowledgement of one’s social standing and a marker of status. This is starkly different from the recipient of other complimentary products such as the Publisher’s Clearinghouse car or cruise vacation, the exciting announcement of which comes regularly into the mail of middle-class households with multiple exclamation points around the bold face word ‘FREE.’ The cruise vacation, the winner learns, comes with considerable and visible strings attached, such as attending a seminar about real estate opportunities to enter a lottery to win the cruise. There may be no free lunch for either the celebrity or the Publisher’s Clearinghouse winner, since in each case someone pays somehow for the gift. But there is variation in how invisible the reciprocity appears to recipients: freebie-for-being for those of celebrity status; freebie-for-doing for middle class residents. Thus, we have the beginnings of a theory of free stuff, perks, freebies and comped goods: In exchanges of freebies, there is a decoupling of the good from the payment, and the exchange is better masked for upper classes than for lower ones. 7 People in privileged positions enjoy relative invisibility of their obligations for free stuff; their stuff appears to be received rather than sought. For non-elites, there are immediate and visible retrieval costs. But in order to develop this claim further, we must first find a way to trace the work that free stuff does. 3. WHAT DOES FREE STUFF DO? AFFORDANCES AND CLASS Is it possible to measure the value of free stuff? While freebies’ market sums vary in range and could be calculated and compared, commensuration between freebies and dollars loses much of what free stuff does to support privilege and enforce status as Espeland (2002) might warn. Its value lies in, among other features, the effort, time and attention its presence ‘frees up’ for the recipient, as well as the unique ways it offers opportunities and tools for the seamless accomplishment of a privileged life. Thus, we want to recognize that free stuff can indeed command financial value, and that users may indeed extract financial value from it, but this is not the whole story. To develop an inclusive conceptualization of the value of free stuff, we think of free stuff in terms of its affordances. The term ‘affordance’ has origins in the perceptual psychology of James Gibson (1979), who used the term to refer to what an actor’s environment enables her to do. A four-way urban intersection affords four possible routes and not five. Affordances have to conjoin with the actor’s capabilities, and are always relational. A staircase is an instrument of mobility for some, but it is an obstacle to mobility to people who rely on a wheelchair to get around. Donald Norman, who widely disseminated the term in public and scholarly circles, encapsulates Gibson’s idea as ‘the actionable properties between the world and an actor’ (Norman 1990). The term has since spread far afield, and has been used as a way to refer to the opportunity structures and limitations of human interface with computers (David and Pinch 2008; Gaver 1996; Knorr Cetina 2005), communication technologies (Arminen 2005; Francis and Hester 2007; Luff, Hindmarsh and Heath 2000) and everyday objects (Adey 2008; Molotch and McClain 2008; Sellen and Harper 1997; Whalen and Whalen 2004) . The term has also been deployed to refer to the situational resources in conversational interaction (Heath and Luff 2000; Heritage and Clayman 2010), and in institutional arrangements (Meyer and Rowan 2006). 8 We use the term to describe positive situational benefits of goods and services which actors may be occasioned to enlist towards benefit. The concept can expand our understanding of privilege. Financial wealth is rightly central in studies as it offers the best common metric through which to compare advantage (Conley 1999). At the same time, wealth is not more than a conceptual proxy for what might be done with it - what it affords through both use and exchange values. Yet people command affordances in addition to, and independent of, their wealth. Affordances are inclusive of social capital and cultural capital, as each expand and enhance the actionable properties of the social world for the benefit of actors, be it in getting a job (Granovetter 1973) or giving off appropriate signs of membership in the elite (Bourdieu 1984). Under a variety of labels, sociologists have adopted variants of an affordance perspective over and over again, such as the implicit liberation of men’s time and attention when women perform the ‘second shift’ in the household (Hochschild and Machung 2003), or in the benefits of white privilege which McIntosh (1988) describes as “an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools and blank checks.” In our perspective, the second shift affords relief from domestic burdens while the metaphorical knapsack of white privilege affords social ease of everyday interaction. Through the concept of affordances we seek an understanding of privilege grounded in the actual and circumstantial ways some burdens are relieved and some resources, such as perks, are enlisted to support it. For the majority of Americans, perks such as restroom use, condiments, and office supplies are largely unnoticed until they are needed, when the ‘safety net’ they afford breaks down. For Western populations, free flowing water in public environments is nearly a universal example; it supports vast practices associated with cleanliness and convenience (Shove 2003). But far more esoteric free affordances are similarly taken-for-granted yet indispensable to specific communities of practice and organizations. In the nightlife economy, this takes shape in free flowing liquor; in fashion and entertainment industries, free flowing garments and accessories. The importance of free flowing water and liquor are not meaningfully fungible with their market worth so much as they derive their value from the ways they appear as if my magic in the routine happenstance of the lives of some people and precisely because they are not selfevidently economic transactions. Recipients may or may not make use of affordances but regardless have an enhanced set of resources they may be occasioned to draw upon—in case—in the practice of everyday life. College-dormitory condom distribution typifies this argument. Condoms afford some protection from disease and pregnancy. But the utility of this affordance is multiplied by how (when freely distributed in dorms) it works seamlessly with the physical acts, social interactions, and geographic locations of potential users. A prophylactic available where it might be put to last-minute use has a utility which far outweighs its market worth. A condom in the dorm, as it were, is worth two dozen in the pharmacy because part of what it ‘affords’ is being at the ready for those who did not anticipate wanting one or making an effort to procure one beforehand. There is an entire background structure required to deliver the objects so seamlessly into the hands of those who might be occasioned to use them, but, for end-users, the structure is largely masked. This property of beneficial ease does not hold for many or even most contexts in which ‘free stuff’ is distributed. Some free stuff requires a great deal of retrieval work on behalf of recipients, diminishing the freedom from planning and labor it might otherwise afford. We hypothesize that one very important function of privilege lies in how such free stuff is largely delivered rather than retrieved. 4. FREE STUFF IN THREE CONTEXTS To test our claims, we offer a preliminary analysis, by no means conclusive, of free stuff in three contexts that are differently classed: the professional perk, the culture industry broker, and the urban poor. This strategy, to ‘follow the thing’ as Appadurai encourages (1986) allows us to trace not only the many settings where free stuff travels, but also to see who it connects, and what it affords to whom. The Professional Free stuff affords a great diversity of projects as it circulates, and this is especially the case for the professional class with untaxed, non-pecuniary benefits commonly called ‘perks’ (short for ‘perquisites’). 9 Management scholars Rajan and Wulf (2005) studied a survey of perks among Fortune 1000 and similar companies and found that two thirds of CEOs can schedule a company airplane, while a third of divisional managers are also able to do so (many more executives, of course, can find a seat on one). 10 A third of CEOs enjoy chauffer services and most higher-up executives benefit from country club memberships and comprehensive financial counseling. Perhaps most importantly, they found perks and salary are positively associated: the higher the salary, the greater the perks. The exception, however, was in the benefit of a company car, where lower-ranking executives were more likely to have this perk. We might speculate, however, that the higher the salary, the more likely it is that the chauffer does all the driving. Some management scholars argue that lavish corporate perks, in lieu of salary, deliver some benefits to the firm through the unique use-value of freebies for corporate executives (Rajan and Wulf 2005). Corporate jets and chauffer service relieve executives of burdens and discomfort and allow them to cast their full, well-rested attention to professional matters. If the cost of such things were monetized and paid to them as salary, they might not choose to pay for services which, in theory, support their productivity. Hence, the issuance of perks might be more worthwhile because it asserts control over how a type of compensation is used in ways that are thought to benefit the firm; it ‘affords’ the firm a type of control. More compellingly, the open consumption of perks are thought to be instruments for corporate managers to signal status to each other. While the status of CEOs is known and uncontroversial, receiving the same perk as the CEO marks out the status of the perk itself. This develops a status hierarchy internal to and controlled by the firm exactly because the perk cannot be bought on any market. For Henderson and Spindler (2004-5) perks in lieu of salary build executives’ dependency on (and hence loyalty towards) employers by granting executives’ extravagant lifestyles while undercutting their potential cash savings which might grant the employee emancipation from the employer. Further, perks create a drug-like dependency that can ‘deliver a tremendous amount of utility in the short term, none of which can be saved until later periods’ (p. 1863-4). Extravagance is central, they argue, and perks make it happen; the freebies ‘must be something that the employee would not choose to purchase herself; that is, perks cannot be fungible with cash, or they relieve the employee of expenses and enable him to save’ (p. 1865; emphasis added). We take an important lesson from management literature about the incommensurability of perks with cash sums. For the managerial elite (and in descending prevalence down the corporate ladder), perks appear to support seamless personal travel, luxury indulgences they themselves would be unlikely to actually purchase, and relief from complex headaches like personal finance. Moreover, many of these perks are situational and contextual; they make affordances in the moment, ‘at hand’ and ‘in case’ and, like other opportunity structures, are resistant to accumulation. To use a familiar example, consider how freebies work in a sociology department of a research university. Faculty in this department receive a constant stream of books they did not seek out. Each day, piles of boxes arrive with new textbook editions and promotional copies of more specialized literature from publishers. Acquaintances and colleagues of faculty members also send them their new work. Sometimes these items are of no use to the professors, such as when they are relevant to a subfield in which the professor’s interest has flagged, or as when textbooks are sent to faculty who do not use textbooks for their courses. Other times, these items are redundant with what professors have already purchased with their research accounts. Often a book is appreciated and kept by its faculty recipient, who must displace some other volume off the book-choked office shelves. In either case, the arrival of free books generates cast-offs, which tend to end up in the hands of graduate students. Very frequently, the books are conspicuously left in a space in the department which, by tradition, has been set aside for books and journals up for grabs. Other times, professors will give the books directly to students they think might be interested in them, or with whom they work closely. In these latter cases, the books serve to initiate or strengthen a patronage relationship with the grad student and may implicate the student in reciprocity. Once in student hands, a given book might be used for its actual intellectual content. But that usage is not incompatible from the symbolic benefits of building a professional library in the student’s office, showing that one is ‘serious’ to onlookers, even if interests in the actual material is tenuous at best (in our example, grad students have shared offices in the department). Often, students redistribute them to other grad students, further extending webs of reciprocity. Occasionally, students sell these books online or to local used bookshops and turn them into some cash. Look at the work our free books do, and the multiple projects they afford to actors. Leaving books out for the taking demonstrates departmental citizenship. Giving books to particular people helps develop and support hierarchal and lateral systems of reciprocity as Mauss (1954) might point out. They do the symbolic work of helping students signal seriousness in their careers and the breadth of their interests. Of course, they also do what books are supposed to do: they offer the utility of their content to those poised to take advantage of it. Some students transform them into cash and reap the benefit of that utility. We might commensurate the other types of value transacted through these books with a cash sum but the relevant actors themselves only occasionally reduce their value to market sums by selling them, and otherwise enlist a number of kinds of use-value including sorts that stem only from nonmarket exchange. We think part of what lends these books the qualitative value they hold for various people lies on how people are occasioned to come by them with no immediate effort. Students looking to browse unfamiliar areas of the field need not strategize how to do it in a market context – they can instead just pick up the book lying on the ‘free book table.’ There are no immediate downsides or costs. The book is gotten but hardly sought; it is all very convenient. The sociologists’ free book shares features in other professional worlds. Perhaps most substantively is the way a formal apparatus devoted to the dissemination of free stuff strives to put it in the hands of those who command the resources of others. In the case of the textbook, faculty members can capture the market potential of their undergraduate students when deciding what books to assign for their large lecture courses. The undergraduate students, in turn, often command the resources of their parents. 11 Thus free stuff does work. It defines membership in and boundaries of status groups just as it implicates people in exchange relationships. The best-known example of this dynamic is to be found in relationships between pharmaceutical companies and doctors, who in effect command the resources of their patients (or, as the case may be, of insurers). In a practice called ‘detailing,’ doctors are treated to gifts ostensibly couched as discussions of the virtues of certain drugs. The pharmaceutical gift cycle, a three-way exchange network between doctors, salespersons, and patients, exists to generate prescriptions (scripts) sometimes masking or even perpetuating risks and side effects for patients (Oldani 2004). One chronicler says some of these transactions merely involve treating a doctor and her staff to take-out lunch once a month. But they also include detailing sessions at exotic resorts, and nights out with lavish meals including doctors’ companions, perhaps followed by tickets to Carnegie Hall or the U.S. Open. 12 Often, drug samples are passed to doctors, and commentators report that physicians sometimes in turn distribute them to needy patients. Depending on the quality of the drug, however, doctors also may keep them for their own recreational use. According to the same source, in 2000, the industry spent $16 billion 13 through eighty thousand U.S. sales reps (or about one for every four doctors), all tasked to put such free stuff into the command of physicians (Brubaker 2002; Hawthorne 2003). Omnipresent options to take quasi-vacations are a substantive affordance, as are options to be entertained (or simply treated) by sales reps. Pharmaceutical samples build relationships with patients, not unlike books in a sociology department; they also afford getting high. For professionals, perks and freebies grease the wheels of everyday routine, offer benefits wealth alone cannot explain, and extend and solidify professional networks, often under the illusions that these benefits are unhinged from reciprocity. The Culture Industry Promoter Because freebies, like all goods, are relational and circulate among networks of people, they travel with the help of brokers. Such persons are clearly visible in culture industries, where goods attain value through cultural processes like the accruement of status and symbolic capital (Entwistle 2009). Culture industries thrive on such gatekeepers, or cultural intermediaries, who help to funnel goods into people’s hands and heads (Hirsch 1972). A whole ‘brand managerial class’ of cultural entrepreneurs and intermediaries has flourished in the last decades, from brand consultants, marketers, tastemakers like magazine editors, and publicists; all are likely to command bottomless pits of freebies, from clothes to food items to drinks, because in hawking these wares they must consume them and embody the brands they seek to communicate (Aronczyk and Powers 2010). The party promoter is a freebie broker par excellence. He (and in New York they are overwhelmingly male) does not pay for his drinks, dinners, or limousine rides. His currency takes form in his guests, who are typically models and actresses (overwhelmingly female), also partying for free so long as they can pay with ‘nocturnal capital’ (Grazian 2008). One such promoter, called a ‘model wrangler’ in a profile in The New York Post, reportedly earns $2,500 a night for bringing models to ‘swanky clubs’ in New York City, and he tells aspiring models, ‘You can definitely eat and drink for free’ (Niemietz 2009). 14 He pays with his social capital, rich with socially-valuable young women. Why are they valuable? We learned from conversations with club promoters in New York City that models are the lifeblood of the club industry. Successful club promotion is contingent on luring big spenders (predominantly men in finance who may charge the evening to professional accounts) willing to shell out thousands in a single evening, and a significant presence of attractive women is considered an essential draw (Rivera 2010). Club promoters tirelessly recruit female fashion models for this purpose, with promises they will be ‘comped’ and be treated as guests rather than as customers. Models rise to this occasion in order to consume nightlife services well out of accord with their often-meager earnings (Mears 2011); the low average wages in the modeling industry are masked by the affordances of a comped night out, and they get to participate in a lifestyle they could not actually pay for. These arrangements further legitimate the standard industry practice where modeling agents deflect all promotion costs and market risks to the models themselves, who often begin their careers in debt. While models face dim prospects to climb out of the red, they have great opportunities afforded by invitation to enjoy elite nightclubs for ‘free.’ The young woman in the nightclub, in keeping with gift exchange theory, pays in some way for her gifted champagne—perhaps with her implied sexual availability, or her beauty, which adds value to the club much like the art on the walls. The costs of these freebies are potentially high: young women face some risks in being plied with alcohol and put on display for the enjoyment of male strangers; furthermore becoming an elite ornamental object is an expensive and time-consuming endeavor. Yet such costs are not immediately obvious or recognized to those involved because the payment is a residue of everyday routine. The model pays for her comped drink by drinking it, and when promoters bring models to dinner before a night of hard partying, she pays for her dinner by having her dinner. There may be no such thing as a free dinner, but for this high cultural capital class, the reciprocity is in the occasion to do what one would do anyway. Thus free stuff invisibly binds the finance, nightlife, and fashion industries together in webs of reciprocity, allowing each to reap residual benefit from the needs of the other. By tracing the careers of such swag, affordances offer a conceptual tool to link objects to people to capabilities in different networks and practices. The drinks, dinners, and entertainment appear free, but only to those who can pay with high stores of aesthetic, culture, or social capital. Hence the haughty bourgeois formulation, “free to those who can afford it; very expensive to those who can’t,” quipped in the 1987 British film Withnail & I. As the culture industry promoter teaches us, perquisites have prerequisites. Receipt of swag comes on the condition of being the right kind of beneficiary. Nowhere is this more clear than when we compare freebies circulating among the wrong kind of beneficiaries: the poor. The Down-and-Out Much of the literature on the urban poor seeks to show how people achieve survival on extremely limited means (Duneier 1999; Stack 1974; Venkatesh 2006). Such work teaches us how the poor struggle through much of routine social interactions that middle classes take for granted, such as cashing checks, buying produce, interacting with police, and finding employment. Related research shows how, within these contexts of struggle, the poor routinely pay more for the exact same consumer products—more for groceries, financial services and cars—than their counterparts in better-off neighborhoods (Caplovitz 1963; Fellowes 2006). Alongside this ‘poverty tax’ there exists a freebie deficit that has been overlooked in the literatures. Not only do the poor receive fewer freebies, but the very nature of free stuff circulating in poor communities is different. Free stuff, for the poor, is not received but retrieved. The ‘costs’ of belonging to communities of freebies are greater than the down-and-out classes can afford. For instance, in Siberian cities as recently as 2001, only the poorest actually pay for electricity because they fear if they don’t they will be someday called to pay and be left without heat. The rest of the population simply does not pay because it remains illegal to shut off electricity for nonpayment of bills (Humphrey 2003). The poor paradoxically excused themselves from handed-out service. If, for elites and professional class people, free stuff is largely delivered, for working classes and urban outcasts, it must be retrieved. Consider how class context changes the ‘freeness’ of napkins and condiments in fast food restaurants. Even while the paper goods and condiments industries are major enterprises, national fast food chains give them away incidental to market purchases. For most, the retrieval costs are small to nonexistent, while for others, they are fairly high, and, indeed, they may be prohibitive. In middle-class shopping districts, napkins and ketchup are, as we have mostly come to expect, universally free. While we are aware of engineering innovations which make it harder, for example, to remove more than one napkin at a time from a dispenser, such items are up for the taking to pretty much anyone who wants it, and in whatever quantity. Yet in low-income communities, napkins, plastic forks, and condiments are distributed by workers from behind the counter who respond to requests for more barbecue sauce in very small increments, and they often deny requests for more. Hence, for most consumers, free stuff is an institutionalized affordance of seamless retrieval; for the poor, there is no such provision. This fast food arrangement models much else. Access to the toilet, another freebie commonly expected among middle and upper class citizens, actually depends on ‘passing’ an appearance bar. While, in the U.S., the system of public restrooms is remarkably thin compared to European counterparts, even modestly affluent people can more or less rely on private bathrooms as they participate in public life. In New York City, the vast majority of toilet users in Starbucks are noncustomers (Kwon 2005). There can be retrieval costs for everybody; people must still rely on ‘special cunning’ to be afforded the use of a restroom some times, but they also must rely on the right cultural and social signs that they are ‘clean’ to gain access (Molotch 2010). While restroom access can be a problem for anybody, Duneier (1999) offers the contrasting case of men who work selling used magazines on urban street corners who are even denied access to the restrooms of businesses they regularly patronize. With an unmaintained, often-locked, toilet-seat-and-toilet-paper-less public restroom in a nearby park as the only alternative, they often resort to alternative measures of relieving themselves including, for example, urinating in a paper cup and then pouring it in the sewer. Hand-outs to the poor have steep costs. In the homeless shelter system in New York City, free shelter is made available through a network of public and privately-funded shelters. Restrictions often exist on the number of consecutive nights a given client may stay there; sometimes this limit is just one night. This leads to a constant reshuffling of people from one institution to another who are housed on a first-come-first served basis, but, due to the constant shifts, there are few certainties, and each attempt at finding shelter is a gamble. Hence, those seeking shelter may begin their search for a bed early in the evening only to then crisscross the city late into the night looking for an opening. A free good is surely supplied by overnight shelters in the sense that clients surrender no financial resources in exchange, but they nonetheless pay staggering sums in time and energy for its retrieval. The long research tradition focused on negotiating hurdles associated with public assistance bears this out; getting ‘free’ help can be extraordinarily hard work. Yet true to the American ideology of rugged individualism, the poor are maligned in public discourse for accepting ‘handouts,’ a misnomer of grand proportions. Given the enormous retrieval costs paid by the poor for their freebies, the handout is more accurately described as a ‘come get.’ Those down-and-out are less likely to be invited into the comped economy than to get entangled in economies of sharing. In communities of scarcity, goods are exchanged with explicit reciprocity, thus enabling the sharing of access to food, shelter, and in the case of Philippe Bourgois’ ‘righteous dope fiends,’ needles and dope residue (Bourgois and Schonberg 2009). Enrolling into such a sharing network enables survival but at high costs of being immediately ripped-off or slowly sunk by needy neighbors with whom one has established mutual obligations. Even still, obligation among a needy network offers the dope fiend, for instance, insurance against dreaded symptoms of dope sickness. Likewise, in vulnerable urban communities, Carol Stack has shown the complex webs of obligation and social ties that sustain single female-headed households (1974). We contend that poor and marginal populations receive fewer handouts than middle class persons, and they lack access to such affordances laid out so neatly to higher classes. The difficulty of ‘hard living,’ then, is not just in the extraordinary chaos of lower-class livelihoods (Bettie 2003), but it is in the everyday challenge to retrieve the very stuff which is otherwise invisibly made available to those higher up the social strata. 4. CONCLUSION A nightclub promoter comps young women to a ‘free’ evening of entertainment; in her presence are numerous corporate types billing drinks to company accounts, including the drug company sales rep entertaining a number of young doctors for a night on the town. Here’s what happens: the comped evening ties the doctors to the drug company, and the residuals are captured neatly by the club, less the costs of promoters and their young female companions’ drinks—who, not incidentally, enjoy a lifestyle they cannot pay for, which furthers their commitment to unfavorable labor terms in creative industries. Free drinks do a lot of work here, uniting drug companies and fashion through work, sales, and consumption. Despite these multiple meanings and purposes, free stuff is absent in economic sociology and it remains excluded from traditional definitions of the economy. By virtue of the seamless ease with which perks structure the everyday lives of middle and upper-middle class people, they are largely invisible to actors as well. Yet free stuff is central to the economy—especially to executive labor and to the growing cultural industries—and also to class hierarchy. It is understood as something for nothing. But this is only true for the most privileged of recipients. Goods taken for granted as free have stratified access; the expectation of an available toilet declines depending on who you are. Wage inequality is a recognizable injustice, and frequently social scientists examine income and wealth gaps between genders, races, and other social categories. Perks, we believe, should be a part of discussions of inequality, worth, and social value. Free stuff allows privileged persons to pass easily through their everyday lives, without even noticing their enormous social advantages. On the flipside, the absence of freebies poses considerable difficulty for persons in a down-and-out subsistence. We have developed this argument through comparison of the circulation of free things in three contexts, from the professional perk, the promoter’s complimentary night out, and the urban outcast’s ‘handouts.’ Central to our argument is the claim that free stuff stabilizes the institution of class privilege, holds it together, and gives it inertia. We conclude with a theoretical proposition: in the presence of wealth, there is an attendant absence of price on a wide variety of goods. Future research could try to systematically quantify free stuff across populations of receivers; for instance, what is the total value of a model’s comped drinks and dinners, including the social capital advantages accrued by mingling in elite nightclubs, but minus the opportunity costs of getting a good night’s rest? Such studies will be valuable in helping students of labor markets understand how and why workers value precarious work arrangements. Culture industry workers are an especially useful case to study the power of perks in compelling labor to accept poor working conditions, and the circulation of freebies in these fields can teach us much about the role of cultural value in legitimizing seemingly irrational work preferences. Such research should also consider the emotional pay-off of freebies and the lessons of behavioral economics: it feels good to get in on the swag. However, future research should take care not to reduce freebies to mere market value. The effect of free stuff is that it opens up time, energy and attention, and provides a material safety net just in case. The value of freebies is in what it affords receivers. Free stuff develops relationships, it frees up time, it may pad wages and boost social statuses, but it cannot be reduced to quantifiable sums of money. Free stuff is far more interesting than fungible economic worth; its value affords the routine everyday enactment of privilege. To capture the rich affordances of free stuff, research should figure out how perks are negotiated in organizations, and how people interact and understand their free stuff. Do different groups of people understand their perks as extras, as compliments, as compensation (perhaps for poor wages), or as entitlements? We suspect that having ‘easy’ and thoughtless access to freebies constitutes, in part, upper-class status in the 21st century, a time of soaring American inequality. Khan (2011) has argued that American elites are learning how to be comfortable and at ease, rather than entitled, with their privilege. While Khan bases his argument in the logic of elite symbolic codes, like embodiment and taste, our argument emphasizes ease among elites with their stuff—material things like private jets, comped dinners, and bathrooms. Finally, to develop the theory of free stuff outlined here, future empirical studies must include analyses of how free stuff changes in form, content, and significance over time. Perks and bonuses among the corporate elite are rising with the tide of swelling executive compensation, and only recently in the wake of the 2007 financial meltdown have they attracted popular attention—and populist anger. Privilege in our formulation is more than the absence of obstacles faced by the have-nots; it is more than access to a symbolic language, one which allows elites to glide through everyday life and obstacles with ease. It is, rather, an institutional set of passes which structures everyday life, and as such, privilege includes the mundane and material stuff of routine interaction. Free stuff, in the aggregate, buttresses social divisions in invisible ways that this article has tried to make visible. This suggests a broader programme of research focused on privilege as a system of affordances, the actual mechanisms which translate abstractions like ‘wealth’ into concrete sustenance, specific opportunity, the exercise of power, personal autonomy, and seamless social routine.