s at once a vast ethnography of contemporary Frame :tion of the bourgeois mind. Bourdieu's subject is the cure, and his objective is most ambitious: to provide in he problems raised by Kant's Critique of Judgment b\ iy no judgment of taste is innocent. , rich, intelligent book. It will provide the historian ui ith priceless materials and it will bring an essential con-sociological theory." _ Fernand Braudel more distinguished contributions to social theory and recent years . . . There is in this book an account of a methodology of its study, rich in implication for a ields of social research. The work in some ways redefines ope of cultural studies." — Anthony Giddens, Partisan Review extraordinary intelligence." — Irving Louis Horowitz, Commonweal analysis transcends the usual analysis of conspicuous 1 in two ways: by showing that specific judgments and er less than an esthetic outlook in general and by show-sr, that the acquisition of an esthetic oudook not only >per-class prestige but helps to keep the lower orders in • words, the esthetic world view serves as an instrument >n. It serves the interests not merely of status but of :s this, according to Bourdieu, by emphasizing individ-and 'distinction' and by devaluing the well-being of ,hole." — Christopher Lasch, Vogue i was Professor of Sociologyatthe College de France, Paris. U T; I l.m.iid l ni'iisii\ IV v» ( .linbndge. \l.iss.kliiistip ISBN dal Critique Judgement of Taste ie Bourdieu anslated chard Nice 978067421277090000 96 / A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste which they receive their price, cultural competences are dependent these markets, and all struggles over culture are aimed at creating market most favourable to the products which are marked, in their ,i ners, by a particular class of conditions of acquisition, i.e., a particular market. Thus, what is nowadays called the 'counter-culture' may well the product of the endeavour of new-style autodidacts to free themselves from the constraints of the scholastic market (to which the less roní,, dent old-style autodidacts continue to submit, although it conc-.r. s their products in advance). They strive to do so by producing another market, with its own consecrating agencies, that is, like the high-so i( v or intellectual markets, capable of challenging the pretension of the > ,>.., cational system to impose the principles of evaluation of competences' and manners which reign in the scholastic market, or at least its most 'scholastic' sectors, on a perfectly unified market in cultural goods. T^e Economy of Practices But on things whose rules and principles had been instilled into her by her morher, on the way to make certain dishes, to play Beethoven's sonatas, to 'receive' with cordiality, she was quite sure that she had a right idea of perfection and of discerning how far others approximated to it. For these three things, moreover, perfection was almost the same, a kind of simplicity in the means, a sobriety and a charm. She repudiated with horror the introduction of spices in dishes that did not absolutely require them, affectation and abuse of the pedals in piano-playing, departure from perfect naturalness, and exaggerated talking of oneself in 'receiving.' From the first mouthful, from the first notes, from a simple letter she preened herself on knowing if she had to deal with a good cook, a real musician, a woman properly brought up. 'She may have many more fingers than I, but she lacks taste, playing that very simple Andante with so much emphasis.' 'No doubt a most brilliant woman full of parts, but it is a want of tact to speak of oneself in • such a case.' 'Possibly a very knowing cook, but she does not know how to do steak and fried potatoes.' Steak and fried potatoes, an ideal competition-piece, a kind of culinary Pathetic Sonata, a gastronomic equivalent to what is in social life the visit of a lady who comes for a servant's 'character' and who, in an act as simple as that, can sufficiently display the presence or absence of tact and education. Marcel Proust, Days of Reading T^e Social Space and Its Transformations If the research had stopped at this point it would probably not raise great objections, so self-evident is the idea of the irreducibility of artistic taste. However, as has already been shown by the analysis of the social conditions of the aesthetic disposition, the dispositions which govern choices between the goods of legitimate culture cannot be fully understood unless they are reintegrated into the system of dispositions, unless 'culture', in the restricted, normative sense of ordinary usage, is reinserted into 'culture' in the broad, anthropological sense and the elaborated taste for the most refined objects is brought back into relation with the elementary taste for the flavours of food.1 The dual meaning of the word 'taste', which usually serves to justify the illusion of spontaneous generation which this cultivated disposition tends to produce by presenting itself in rhe guise of an innate disposition, must serve, for once, to remind us that taste in the sense of the 'faculty of immediately and intuitively judging aesthetic values' is inseparable from taste in the sense of the capacity to discern the flavours of foods which implies a preference for some of them. The abstraction which isolates dispositions towards legitimate culture leads to a further absrraction at the level of the system of explanatory factors, which, though always present and active, only offers itself for observation through those elements (cultural capital and trajectory in the case analysed below) which are the principles of irs efficacy in the field in question. The consumption of the most legitimate cultural goods is a particular case of competition for rare goods and practices, whose particularity no doubt owes more to the logic of supply, i.e., the specific form of compe- 100 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations f 101 anon between the producers, than to the logic of demand and tastes, i e ■ the logic of competition between the consumers. One only has to re^ move the magical barrier which makes legitimate culture into a separate universe, in order to see intelligible relationships between choices as seemingly incommensurable as preferences in music or cooking, sport of' politics, literature or hairstyle. This barbarous reintegration of aesthetic consumption into the world of ordinary consumption (against which if endlessly defines itself) has, inter alia, the virtue of reminding us that the' consumption of goods no doubt always presupposes a labour of appropriation, to different degrees depending on the goods and the consumers-or, more precisely, that the consumer helps to produce the product he consumes, by a labour of identification and decoding which, in the case of a work of art, may constitute the whole of the consumption and gratification, and which requires rime and dispositions acquired over time. Economists, who never jib at an abstraction, can ignore what happens' to products in the relationship with the consumers, that is, with the dispositions which define their useful properties and real uses. To hypothesize, as one of them does, that consumers perceive the same decisive attributes, which amounts to assuming that products possess objective or, as they are known, 'technical' characteristics which can impress themselves as such on all perceiving subjects, is to proceed as if perception only seized on the characteristics designated by the manufacturers' brochures (and so-called 'informative' publicity) and as if social uses could be derived from the operating instructions. Objects, even industrial products, are not objective in the ordinary sense of the word, i.e., independent of the interest and tastes of those who perceive them, and thev do not impose the self-evidence of a universal, unanimously approved meaning. The sociologist's task would be much easier if, when faced with each relationship between an 'independent variable' and a 'dependent variable', he did not have to determine how the perception and appreciation of what is designated by the 'dependent variable' vary according to the classes determined by the 'independent variable', or, in other words, identify the system of pertinent features on the basis of which each of the classes of agents was really determined.2 What science has to establish is the objectivity of the object which is established in the relationship between an object defined by the possibilities and impossibilities it offers, which are only revealed in the world of social uses (including, in the case of a technical object, the use or function for which it was designed) and the dispositions of an agent or class of agents, that is, the schemes of perception, appreciation and action which constitute its objective utility in a practical usage.3 The aim is not, of course, to reintroduce any form of what is called 'lived experience', which is most often merely a thinly disguised projection of the researcher's 'lived experience';4 but to move beyond the abstract relationship between consumers with interchangeable tastes and products with uniformly perceived and appreciated properties to the relationship between tastes which vary in a necessary way according to their social and economic conditions of production, and the products on which they confer rheir different social identities. One only has to ask the question, which economists strangely ignore, of the economic conditions of the production of the dispositions demanded by the economy, i.e., in this case,5 the question of the economic and social determinants of tastes, to see the necessity of including in the complete definition of the product the differential experiences which the consumers have of it as a function of"the dispositions they derive from their position in-economic space. These experiences do not have to be felt in order to be understood with an understanding which may owe nothing to lived experience, still less to sympathy. The habitus, an objective relationship between two objectivities, enables an intelligible and necessary relation to be established between practices and a situation, the meaning of which is produced by the habitus through categories of perception and appreciation that are themselves produced by an observable social condition. Class Condition and Social Conditioning Because it can only account for practices by bringing to light successively the series of effects which underlie them, analysis initially conceals the structure of the life-style characteristic of an agent or class of agents, that is, the unity hidden under the diversity and multiplicity of the set of practices performed in fields governed by different logics and therefore inducing different forms of realization, in accordance with the formula: [(habitus) (capital)} + field = practice. It also conceals the structure of the symbolic space marked out by the whole set of these structured practices, all the distinct and distinctive life-styles which are always defined objectively and sometimes subjectively in and through their mutual relationships. So it is necessary to reconstruct what has been taken apart, first by way of verification but also in order to rediscover rhe kernel of truth in the approach characteristic of common-sense knowledge, namely, the intuition of the systematic nature of life-styles and of the whole set which they constitute. To do this, one must return to the practice-unifying and practice-generaring principle, i.e., class habitus, the internalized form of class condition and of the conditionings it entails. One must therefore construct the objective class, the set of agents who are placed in homogeneous conditions of existence imposing homogeneous conditionings and producing homogeneous systems of dispositions capable of generating similar practices; and who possess a set of common properties, objectified properties, sometimes legally guaranteed (as possession of goods and power) or properties embodied as class habitus (and, in particular, systems of classificatory schemes).'1 variables and systems of variables In designating these classes (classes of agents or, which amounts to the same thing in this context, classes of conditions of existence) by the name of an occupation, one is me erns 102 J The Economy of Practices rely indicating that the position in the relations of production gov-practices, in particular through the mechanisms which control access ; to positions and produce or select a particular class of habitus. But this : is not a way of reverting to a pre-consrructed variable such as 'socio-occupational category'. The individuals grouped in a class that is constructed in a particular respect (that is, in a particularly determinant re- i spect) always bring with them, in addition co the pertinent properties by which they are classified, secondary properties which are thus smuggled : into the explanatory model.7 This means that a class or class fraction is defined not only by its position in the relations of production, as identified through indices such as occupation, income or even educational level, but also by a certain sex-ratio, a certain distribution in geographical space (which is never socially neutral) and by a whole set of subsidiary characteristics which may function, in the form of tacit requirements, as real principles of selection or exclusion without ever being formally stated (this is the case with ethnic origin and sex). A number of official criteria in-fact serve as a mask for hidden criteria: for example, the requiring of a given diploma can be a way of demanding a particular social origin. One needs to examine what the list of the criteria used by the analyst derives from the state of the struggle between the groups separated by these criteria, or more precisely from the capacity of groups denned by these cri- .! teria, to get themselves recognized as such. There would be less likelihood of forgetting that unskilled workers are to a large extent women and immi- : grants if groups based on sex or nationaliry of origin had constituted them selves as such within the working class. Furthermore, the fallacy of the apparent factor would not be so frequent if it were not the simple recransb : tion onto the terrain of science of the legitimating strategies whereby groups tend to put forward this or that legitimate property, the overt prin- ■ ciple of their constitution, to camouflage the real basis of their existence. Thus the most selective groups (a concert audience or the students of a grande ecole) may doubly conceal the real principle of their selection: by : declining to announce the real principles of their existence and their reproi , duction, they are obliged to rely on mechanisms which lack the specific, syf-? temaric rigour of an explicit condition of entry and therefore allow exceptions (unlike clubs and all 'elites' based on co-option, they cannot vet . the whole set of properties of the 'elect', i.e., the toral petson). The members of groups based on co-option, as are most of the corps pro-tected by an overt or covert numerus damns (doctors, architects, professors, ; engineers etc.) always have something else in common beyond the characteristics explicitly demanded. The common image of the professions, which is no doubt one of the real determinants of 'vocations', is less abstract and unreal than that presented by statisticians; it takes into account not only the nature of the job and the income, but those secondary characteristics which are often the basis of their social value (prestige or discredit) and :v The Social Space and Us Transformations / 105 which, though absent from the official job description, function as tacit re-. quirements, such as age, sex, social or ethnic origin, overtly or implicitly guiding co-option choices, from entty into the profession and light through a career, so that members of the corps who lack these traits are excluded or marginalized (women doctors and lawyers tending to be restricted to a female chenrele and black doctors and lawyers to black clienrs or research). In shorr, the property emphasized by the name used to designate a cate-goty, usually occupation, is liable to mask the effect of all the secondary properties which, although constitutive of the category, are not expressly indicated. Similarly, when one is trying to assess the evolution of a social category (identified by occupation), etude errors are inevitable if, by considering only one of the pertinent properties, one ignores all the substitution effects in which the evolution is also expressed. The collective trajectory of a social class may be manifested in the fact that it is becoming 'feminized' ot 'masculinized', growing older or young, getting poorer or richer. (The decline of a position may be manifested either in 'feminization'—which may be accompanied by a rise in social origin—or in 'democratization' or in 'ageing'.) The same would be true of any group denned by reference to a position in a field—e.g., a university discipline in the hierarchy of disciplines, a title of nobility in the aristocratic hierarchy, an educational qualification in the academic hierarchy. The particular relations between a dependent variable (such as political opinion) and so-called independent variables such as sex, age and religion, or even educational level, income and occupation tend to mask the complete system of relationships which constitutes the true principle of the specific strength and form of the effects registered in any particular correlation. The most independent of 'independent' variables conceals a whole network of statistical relations which are present, implicitly, in its relationship with any given opinion or practice. Here too, instead of asking statistical technology to solve a problem which it can only displace, it is necessary to analyse the divisions and variations which the different secondary variables (sex, age etc.) bring into the class defined by the main variable, and consider everything which, though present in the real definition of the class, is not consciously taken into account in the nominal definition, the one summed up in the name used to designate it, or therefore in interpreting the relationship in which it is placed. Typical of the false independence between so-called independent variables is the relationship between educational qualification and occupation. This is not only because, at least in some areas of social space (to which educational qualifications give some degree of access), occupation depends on qualification, but also because the cultutal capital which the qualification is supposed to guarantee depends on the holder's occupation, which may presuppose maintenance or increase of the capital acquired within the family or at school (by and for promotion) or a diminishing of this capital (by 104 / The Economy of Practices ': 'de-skilling' or 'de-qualification'). To this effect of occupational conditi, i in which one has to distinguish the specific effect of the work which, I very nature, may demand a more or less great, more or less constant inv ment of cultural capital, and therefore more or less continuous maintcn of this capital, and the effect of the possible career which encourages or: eludes cultural invesrments likely to assist or legitimate promotion—mi be added the effect of occupational milieu, i.e., the reinforcement of d rions (especially cultural, religious or political dispositions) by a group ■ !--, is homogeneous in most of the respects which define it. Thus one woul. have to examine in each case to what extent occupational conditions of istence assist or hinder this effect, which would mean taking into accouni the characteristics of the work (unpleasantness etc.), the conditions in which it is performed—noise, or silence permitting conversarion etc.—i . temporal rhythms it imposes, the spare time it allows, and especially the form of the horizontal or vertical relations it encourages at the workp ,_-during work or in rest periods—or outside. This effect no doubt explains a number of differences between office workers (ledger clerks, bank clerks, agency clerks, typists) and commerci; employees (mainly shop assistants), which are nor entirely accounted foi either by differences linked to class fraction of origin (office workers are. | rather more often the children of farmers; commercial employees the children of small employers) or by differences in educational capital (the lirst more often have the BEPC, the second a CAP). The commercial employees and the office workers, who are distributed r much the same way as regards sex, age and income, are separated by important differences in dispositions and practices. Office workers are more ascetic—they more often expect their friends to be conscientious or well brought up, more often prefer a neat, clean and ridy interior and like I!-. , Guetary, Mariano, the Hungarian Rhapsody, L'Arle'sienne, Raphael, Wa -.-ij and Leonardo. By contrast, commercial employees more often look for friends who are sociable, bons vivanrs, amusing and stylish, for a comfori able, cosy interior, and prefer Brassens, Ferre, Francpise Hardy, the Ttalighl - . "I of the Gods, the Four Seasons, Rhapsody in Blue, Utrillo or Van Gogh. j Among the effects which the relationship between class fraction and prac-' tices simultaneously reveals and conceals, there is also the effect of the - nation in the distribution of the secondary properties attached to a class. Thus, members of the class who do not possess all the modal properties ■ e.g., men in a strongly feminized occupation or a worker's son at ENA...... have their social identity deeply marked by this membership and the soc .:' image which it imposes and which they have to situate themselves in v. ..-tion to, whether by acceptance or rejection. Similarly, relationships such as those between educational capital, or age, and income mask the relationship linking the two apparently independent variables. Age determines income ro an extent which varies according !o educational capital and occupation, which is itself partly determined by id cational capital and also by other, more hidden facrors such as sex and inherited cultural or social capital. In another case, one of the variables is to a degree merely a transformed form of the other. Thus, scholastic age (i e, age at a given educational level) is a transformed form of inherited cultural The Social Space and Its Transformations / 105 capital 'osr *'ears are a sreP rowari^s relegation or elimination. More senerally, the educational capital held at a given moment expresses, among other things, the economic and social level of the family of origin. (This results from a long process which is no way a mechanical relationship, since initial cultural capital may be only partially converted into educational capital or may produce effects irreducible to those of educational qualification, js one finds whenever social origin distinguishes individuals whose qualifications are identical.) : Likewise, in every relationship between educational capital and a given practice, one sees the effect of the dispositions associated with gender which help to determine the logic of the reconversion of inherited capital into educational capital, that is, the 'choice' of the type of educational capital which will be obtained from the same initial capital, more ofren literary for girls, more often scientific for boys. Again, the relationship of a given practice to age may conceal a relationship to educational capital when age is in (act the key to different modes of access to the position—by qualification or interna! promotion—and different school generations and different chances of access to the educational system (the oldest agents have lower educational capital than the youngest), or to social class, by virtue of the different social definitions of precociousness or backwardness in rhe various areas, particularly in schooling. In facr, the change in chances of access is only one aspect of a more systematic change which also involves the very definition of competence, and tends to make comparisons between the generations increasingly difficult. The conflicts between holders of competences of different ages and differenr educational levels—old school-certificate holder versus new bachelier {bacca-laureat-holder)—centre precisely on the definition of competence, with the old generation complaining rhat the new generation does not possess the competences formerly defined as elementary and basic: 'They can'r spell nowadays', 'They can't even add up'. And finally, the variations in cultural practice by size of town of residence cannor be ascribed to the direct effect of spatial distance and the variations in the supply of culture, until it is confirmed that the differences persist after discounting the effect of the inequalities in educational capital concealed (even in the occupational category) by geographical distribution. The opposition between Pans and the provinces needs to be analysed in a way similar to that used for the notion of 'educational level'. Relationships involving the variable 'place of residence' manifest not only the effect of cultural supply, linked to the density of objectified cultural capital and so to the objective opportunities for cultural consumption and the related re-inforcemenr of the aspiration to consume, but also all the effects of the unequal spatial distribution of properties and their owners (e.g., possessors of high educational capital), in particular rhe circular reinforcement each group performs on itself, for example, intensifying cultural practice if it is cultivated, discouraging it by indifference or hostility if it is not. When, as often happens, the analysis is conducted variable by variable, there is a danger of attributing to one of the variables (such as sex or age, each of which may express in its own way the whole situation or trend of 106 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 107 a class) the effect of the set of variables (an error which is encoura • ■ u the conscious or unconscious tendency to substitute generic alien ■>inns' e.g., those linked to sex or age, for specific alienations, linked to . ' Economic and social condition, as identified by occupation, gives i Spi.' cific form to all the properties of sex and age, so that it is the efE< 1 , \ the whole structure of factors associated with a position in socia ,i ~„ which is manifested in rhe correlations berween age or sex and practices The naivety of the inclination to attribute the differences recorded in ~'. lation to age to a generic effect of biological ageing becomes self-e, when one sees, for example, that the ageing which, in the privileged classes, is associated with a move to the right, is accompanied, among manual workers, by a move to the left. Similarly, in the relative precocity of executives, measured for example by the age at which they reach a" given position, one sees in fact the expression of everything whiL- ... vides them, despite the apparent identity of condition at a given 11 y ment, namely their whole previous and subsequent trajectory, arid -k-capital volume and structure which govern it. constructed class Social class is not defined by a property (not even the most determinant one, such as the volume and composition of. :| |. tal) nor by a collection of properties (of sex, age, social origin, ethnic origin—proportion of blacks and whites, for example, or natives an i j> migrants—income, educational level etc.), nor even by a chain of proper ties strung out from a fundamental property (position in the relations of production) in a relation of cause and effect, conditioner and conditioned; but by the structure of relations between all the pertinent p- i ties which gives its specific value to each of them and to the effects they exert on practices.8 Constructing, as we have here, classes as hoi i > geneous as possible with respect to the fundamental determinants of the material conditions of existence and the conditionings they impose, therefore means that even in constructing the classes and in interpreting the variations of the distribution of properties and practices in relatu 111 these classes, one consciously takes into account the network of stvnil-ary characteristics which are more or less unconsciously manip.il.:t-.v whenever the classes are defined in terms of a single criterion, even < pertinent as occupation. It also means grasping the principle of the objective divisions, i.e., divisions internalized or objectified in distinctive properties, on the basis of which the agents are most likely to divide and come together in reality in their ordinary practices, and also to mol-themselves or be mobilized (in accordance with rhe specific logic, linked to a specific history, of the mobilizing organizations) by and for individ ual or collective political action. The principles of logical division which are used to produce the classes are of course very unequally constituted socially in pre-existing social classifica- : ^c one extreme, there is the simple existence of the name of a trade t'°" >cial category', the product of classification by a governmental agency, r as INSEE (Institut national de la statistique et des etudes economi- '"' 1 or of the social bargaining which leads to industrial 'collective agree- rs'' and 31 c^e other extreme, there are groups possessing a real social % ntity recognized spokesmen and institutionalized channels for expressing ' ^ defending their interests etc. The secondary principles of division (such a"country of origin or sex), which are likely to be ignored by an ordinary "jlysis until they serve as a basis for some form of mobilization, indicate ' 'tential lines of division along which a group socially perceived as unitary niay sP'lC' more or 'ess deeply anc' permanently. Because the different factors in the system of determinations constituting a class condition (which can function as real principles of division between objectively separate or actually mobilized groups) vary greatly in their functional weights and therefore in their srructuring force, these principles of division are themselves set in a hierarchy; groups mobilized on the basis of a secondary criterion (such as sex or age) are likely to be bound together less permanently and less deeply than those mobilized on the basis of the fundamental determinants of their condition. To account for the infinite diversity of practices in a way that is both unitary and specific, one has to break with linear thinking, which only recognizes the simple ordinal structures of direct determination, and endeavour to reconstruct the networks of interrelated relationships which are present in each of the factors.9 The structural causality of a network of factors is quire irreducible to the cumulated effects of the set of linear relations, of different explanatory force, which the necessities of analysis oblige one to isolate, those which are established berween the different factors, taken one by one, and the practice in question; through each of the factors is exerted the efficacy of all the others, and the multiplicity of determinations leads not to indeterminacy but to over-determination. Thus the superimposition of biological, psychological and social determinations in the formation of socially defined sexual identity (a basic dimension of social personality) is only a particular, but very important, case of a logic that is also at work in other biological determinations, such as ageing. It goes without saying that the factors constituting the constructed class do not all depend on one another to the same extent, and that the structure of the system they constitute is determined by those which have the greatest functional weight. Thus, the volume and composition of capital give specific form and value to the determinations which the other factors (age, sex, place of residence etc.) impose on practices. Sexual properties are as inseparable from class properties as the yellowness of a lemon is from its acidity: a class is defined in an essential respect by the place and value it gives to the two sexes and to their socially constituted dispositions. This is why there are as many ways of realizing femininity as 108 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 109 there are classes and class fractions, and the division of labour beiv^-jr. the sexes takes quite different forms, both in practices and in representations, in the different social classes. So the true nature of a class or da-, fraction is expressed in its distribution by sex or age, and perhaps eve , more, since its future is then at stake, by the trend of this distribute, over time. The lowest positions are designated by the fact that they in-elude a large—and growing—proportion of immigrants or women (unskilled and semi-skilled workers) or immigrant women (charwomen). Similarly, it is no accident that the occupations in personal service: -medical and social services, the personal-care trades, old ones like hair-dressing, new ones like beauty care, and especially domestic servio which combine the two aspects of the traditional definition of female tasks, service and the home—are practically reserved for women. Nor is it accidental that the oldest classes or class fractions are also the classes in decline, such as farmers and industrial and commercial propn.--tors; most of the young people originating from these classes can on ■■ escape collective decline by reconverting into the expanding occupations. Similarly, an increase in the proportion of women indicates the whole trend of an occupation, in particular the absolute or relative devaluate i which may result from changes in the nature and organization of the work itself (this is the case with office jobs, for example, with the multiplication of repetitive, mechanical tasks that are commonly left to women) or from changes in relative position in social space (as in teaching, whose position has been affected by the overall displacement of the. profession resulting from the overall increase in the number of positions:; offered). One would have to analyse in the same way the relationship between marital status and class or class fraction. It has been clearly shown, for example, that male celibacy is not a secondary property of the small peasantry but an essential element of the crisis affecting this fraction of the.: peasant class. The breakdown of the mechanisms of biological and social: reproduction brought about by the specific logic of symbolic domination is one of the mediations of the process of concentration which leads to a deep transformation of the class. But here too, one would have to subject; the commonsense notion to close analysis, as has been done for educa-i tional level. Being married is not opposed to being unmarried simply as the fact of having a legitimate spouse to the fact of not having one. One., only has to think of a few limiting cases (some much more frequent than-, others), the 'housewife', the artist supported by his wife, the employer or executive who owes his position to his father-in-law, to see that it is dif-; ficult to characterize an individual without including all the properties, (and property) which are brought to each of the spouses, and not only the wife, through the other—a name (sometimes a distinguished 'de' as well), goods, an income, 'connections', a social status (each member of the couple being characterized by the spouse's social position, to different degrees according to sex, position and the gap between the two positions). The properties acquired or possessed through marriage will be omitte^ from the system of properties which may determine practices and properties if, as usually happens, one forgets to ask oneself who is the subject of the practices or, more simply, if the 'subject' questioned is really the subject of the ptactices on which he or she is questioned. As soon as the question is raised, it can be seen that a number of strategies are concretely denned only in the relationship between the members of a domestic group (a household or, sometimes, an extended family), which itself depends on the relationship between the two systems of properties associated with the two spouses. The common goods, especially when they are of some economic and social importance, such as the apartment or furniture, or even personal goods, such as clothing, are— like the choice of a spouse for son or daughter in other societies—the outcome of these (denied) power relations which define the domestic unit. For example, thete is every reason to suppose that, given the logic of the division of labour between the sexes, which gives precedence to women in matters of taste (and to men in politics), the weight of the man's own taste in choosing his clothes (and therefore the degree to which his clothes express his taste) depends not only on his own inherited cultural capital and educational capital (the traditional division of roles tends to weaken, here and elsewhere, as educational capital grows) but also on his wife's educational and cultural capital and on the gap between them. (The same is true of the weight of the wife's own preferences in politics: the effect of assignment by status which makes politics a man's business is less likely to occur, the greater the wife's educational capital, or when the gap between her capital and het husband's is small or in her favour.) social class and class of trajectories But this is not all. On the one hand, agents are not completely defined by the properties they possess at a given time, whose conditions of acquisition persist in the habitus (the hysteresis effect); and on the other hand, the relationship between initial capital and present capital, or, to put it another way, between the initial and present positions in social space, is a statistical relationship of very variable intensity. Although they are always perpetuated in the dispositions constituting the habitus, the conditions of acquisition of the properties synchronically observed only make themselves visible in cases of discordance between the conditions of acquisition and the conditions of use," i.e., when the practices generated by the habitus appear as ill-adapted because they are attuned to an earlier state of the objective conditions (this is what might be called the Don Quixote effect). The statistical analysis which compares the practices of agents possessing the same properries and occupying the same social position at a given time but separated by their origin performs an operation analogous to ordi- 110 / The Economy of Practices nary perception which, within a group, identifies the parvenus and the declasses by picking up the subtle indices of manner or bearing which betray the effect of conditions of existence different from the present ones or, which amounts to the same thing, a social trajectory different ftom the modal trajectory for the group in question. Individuals do not move about in social space in a random way, partly because they are subject to the forces which structure this space (e g.. through the objective mechanisms of elimination and channelling), and partly because they resist the forces of the field with their specific inertia that is, their properties, which may exist in embodied form, as disposr tions, or in objectified form, in goods, qualifications etc. To a given vol ume of inherited capital there corresponds a band of more or less equally probable trajectories leading to more or less equivalent positions (this i< the field of the possibles objectively offered to a given agent), and the shifi from one trajectory to another often depends on collective events—wars crises etc.—or individual events—encounters, affairs, benefactors etc — which are usually described as (fortunate or unfortunate) accidents, although they themselves depend statistically on the position and disposition of those whom they befall (e.g., the skill in operating 'connections' which enables the holders of high social capital to preserve or increase this capital), when, that is, they are not deliberately contrived by institu tions (clubs, family reunions, old-boys' or alumni associations etc.) or bj the 'spontaneous' intervention of individuals or groups. It follows from this that position and individual trajectory are not statistically independent; all positions of arrival are not equally probable for all starting points. This implies that there is a strong correlation between social po sitions and the dispositions of the agents who occupy them, or, which amounts to the same thing, the trajectories which have led them to oc cupy them, and consequently that the modal trajectory is an integi t of the system of factors constituting the class. (The more dispersed the trajectories are—as in the petite bourgeoisie—the less are practices reduc ible to the effect of synchronicaily defined position.) The homogeneity of the dispositions associated with a position and their seemingly miraculous adjustment to the demands inscribed in it result partly from the mechanisms which channel towards positions individuals who are already adjusted to them, either because they feel 'made' for jobs that are 'made' for them—this is 'vocation', the prolepiK sumption of an objective destiny that is imposed by practical refen n. i- :u the modal trajectory in the class of origin—or because they are seen. ir. this light by the occupants of the posts—this is co-option based on the immediate harmony of dispositions—and partly from the dialectic v.h.rh is established, throughout a lifetime, between dispositions and po:-i'.:i>iT., aspirations and achievements. Social ageing is nothing other than the slow renunciation or disinvestment (socially assisted and encouraged) which leads agents to adjust their aspirations to their objective chances to espouse their condition, become what they are and make do with wha> The Social Space and Its Transformations / 111 tl,ey have, even if this entails deceiving themselves as to what they are and what they have, with collective complicity, and accepting bereavement of all the 'lateral possibles' they have abandoned along the way. The statistical character of the relationship between initial capital and present capital explains why practices cannot be completely accounted for solely in terms of the properties defining the position occupied in social space at a given moment. To say that the members of a class initially possessing a certain economic and cultural capital are destined, with a given probability, to an educational and social trajectory leading to a given position means in fact that a fraction of the class (which cannot be determined a priori within the limits of this explanatory system) will deviate from the trajectory most common for the class as a whole and follow the (higher or lower) trajectory which was most probable for members of another class.12 The trajectory effect which then manifests itself, as it does whenever individuals occupying similar positions at a given rime are separated by differences associated with the evolution over time of the volume and structure of their capital, i.e., by their individual trajectories, is very likely to be wrongly interpreted. The correlation between a practice and social origin (measured by the father's position, the real value of which may have suffered a decline concealed by constant nominal value) is the resultant of two effects (which may either reinforce or offset each other): on the one hand, the inculcation effect directly ex-erred by the family or the original conditions of existence; on the other hand, the specific effect of social trajectory,13 that is, the effects of social rise or decline on dispositions and opinions, position of origin being, in this logic, merely the starting point of a trajectory, the reference whereby the slope of the social career is defined. The need to make this distinction is self-evident in all cases in which individuals from the same class fraction or the same family, and therefore presumably subject to identical moral, religious or political inculcations, are inclined towards divergent stances in religion or polirics by the different relations to the social world which they owe to divergenr individual trajectories, having, for example, succeeded or failed in the reconversion strategies necessary to escape the collective decline of rheir class. . This trajectory effect no doubt plays a large part in blurring the relationship between social class and religious or political opinions, owing to the fact that it governs the representation of the position occupied in the social world and hence the vision of its world and its future. In contrast to upwardly mobile individuals or groups, 'commoners' of birth or culture who have their future, i.e., their being, before them, individuals or groups in decline endlessly reinvent the discourse of all aristocracies, es-senriahst faith in the eternity of natures, celebration of tradition and the past, the cult of history and its rituals, because the best they can expect from the future is the return of the old order, from which they expect the restoration of their social being.14 This blurring is particularly visible in the middle classes and especially 112 / The Economy of Practices in the new fractions of these classes, which are grey areas, ambiguously located in the social structure, inhabited by individuals whose trajerm:,,^ are extremely scattered. This dispersion of trajectories is even found litre at the level of the domestic unit, which is more likely than in <:■:■;;.-classes to bring together spouses (relatively) ill matched not only as regards social origin and trajectories bur also occupational status and edi cational level. (This has the effect, among other things, of foregrou \ h-\i what the new vulgate calls 'the problems of the couple', i.e., essentially, the problems of the sexual division of labour and the division of sexua labour.) In contrasr to the effect of individual trajectory, which, being a dcvi; tion from the collective trajectory (that may have a zero slope), is immc diately visible, the effect of collective trajectory may not be noticed as such. When the trajectory effect concerns a whole class or class fraction, that is, a set of individuals who occupy an identical position and are er -gaged in the same collective trajectory, the one which defines a risini or declining class, there is a danger of attributing to the properties syn-chronically attached to the class, effects (e.g., political or religious opinions) which are in reality the product of collective transformations. Tb analysis is complicated by the fact that some members of a class fractior may have embarked on individual trajectories running in the opposite direction to that of the fraction as a whole. This does not mean that their practices are not marked by the collective destiny. (It is questionable, foi example, whethet craftsmen or farmers whose individual success seems to run counter to the collective decline cease to be affected by that decline.)13 But here too one must avoid substantialism. Thus, some of the properties associated with social class which may remain without efficacy or value in a given field, such as ease and familiarity with culture in an; area strictly controlled by the educational sysrem, can take on their full force in another field, such as high society, or in another state of the same field, like the aptitudes which, after the French Revolution, enabled the French aristocracy to become, in Marx's phrase, 'the dancing-masters of Europe'. capital and the market But everything would still be too simple \i it were sufficient to replace a factor, even a particularly powerful one such as socio-occupational category, which derives a major part of fts effects from the secondary variables it governs, by a system of factors fundamentally defined by its structure.16 In fact, what is determinant in a given area . is a particular configuration of the system of properties constituting the constructed class, defined in an entirely theoretical way by the whole set of factors operating in all areas of practice—volume and structure of capital, defined synchronically and diachronically (trajectory), sex, age, marital status, place of residence etc. It is the specific logic of the field, of. what is at stake and of the type of capital needed to play for it, which . The Social Space and Its Transformations / 113 jverns those properties through which the relationship between class ,d practice is established. jf this double correlation of each explanatory factor is not performed, every sort of error is likely, all of them resulting from ignoring the fact that what is 'operative' in the factor in question depends on the system it is placed in and the conditions it 'operates' in, or, more simply, from failing to raise the question of the real principle of the efficacy of the 'independent variable', by proceeding as if the relationship found between the factor—designated bv what is usually no more than an indicator of it (e.g., educational level) _and this or that practice (e.g., the rate of response to political questions, or the capacity to adopt the aesthetic disposition, or museum-going etc.) did not itself have to be explained. To understand why rhe same system of properties (which determines and is determined by the position occupied in the field of class struggles) always has the greatest explanatory power, whatever the area in question—eating habits, use of credit, fertility, political opinion, religion etc.—-and why, simultaneously, the relative weight of the factors which constitute it varies from one field to another—educational capital being most important in one area, economic capital in another, and so on—one only has to see that, because capital is a social relation, i.e., an energy which only exists and only produces its effects in the field in which it is produced and reproduced, each of the properties attached to class is given its value and efficacy by rhe specific laws of each field. In practice, that is, in a particular field, the properties, internalized in dispositions or objectified in economic or cultural goods, which are attached to agents are not all simultaneously operative; the specific logic of the field determines those which are valid in this market, which are pertinent and active in the game in question, and which, in the relationship with this field, function as specific capital—and, consequently, as a factor explaining practices. This means, concretely, that the social rank and specific power which agents are assigned in a particular field depend firstly on the specific capital they can mobilize, whatever their additional wealth in other types of capital (though this may also exert an effect of contamination). This explains why the relationship which analysis uncovers between class and practices appears to be established in each case through the mediation of a factor or particular combination of factors which varies according to the field. This appearance itself leads to the mistake of inventing as many explanatory systems as there are fields, instead of seeing each of them as a transformed form of all the others; or worse, the error of setting up a particular combination of factors active in a particular field of practices as a universal explanatory principle. The singular configuration of the system of explanatory factors which has to be con- 114 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Us Transformations / 115 structed in order to account for a state of the distribution of a particii jr class of goods or practices, i.e., a balance-sheet, drawn up at a paru. . moment, of the class struggle over that particular class of goods or practices (caviar or avant-garde painting, Nobel prizes or state contracts, an enlightened opinion or a chic sport), is the form taken, in that field, bi rhe objectified and internalized capital (properties and habitus) which defines social class and constitutes the principle of the production of classified and classifying practices. It represents a state of the system of properties which make class a universal principle of explanation and classification, defining the rank occupied in all possible fields. A Three-Dimensional Space Endeavouring to reconstitute the units most homogeneous from the point of view of the conditions of production of habitus, i.e., with respect to the elementary conditions of existence and the resultant condi-: tionings, one can construct a space whose three fundamental dimensions are defined by volume of capita], composition of capital, and change in these two properties over time (manifested by past and potential trajectory in social space).17 The primary differences, those which distinguish the major classes of: conditions of existence, derive from the overall volume of capital, understood as the set of actually usable resources and powers—economic capital, cultural capital and also social capital. The distribution of the different classes (and class fractions) thus runs from those who are best provided with both economic and cultural capital to those who are most deprived in both respects (see figure 5, later in this section). The members of the professions, who have high incomes and high qualifications, who very often (52.9 percent) originate from the dominant class (professions or senior executives), who receive and consume a large quantity of both material and cultural goods, are opposed in almost all respects to rhe office workers, who have low qualifications, often originate from the working or middle classes, who receive little and consume little, devoting a high proportion of their time to car maintenance and home improvement; and they are even more opposed to the skilled or semi-skilled workers, and still more to unskilled workers or farm labourers, who have rhe lowest incomes, no qualifications, and originate almost exclusively (90.5 percent of farm labourers, 84.5 percent of unskilled workers) from the working classes.18 The differences stemming from the total volume of capital almosr always conceal, both from common awareness and also from 'scientific-knowledge, the secondary differences which, within each of the classes defined by overall volume of capital, separate class fractions, defined by different asset structures, i.e., different distributions of their total capital among the different kinds of capital. Among the difficulties which this model aims to account for in a unitary and systematic way, the most visible is the observation, which others have often made (e.g., C.S. VII), that the hierarchies, both in the dominant class, between the executives and the employers, and in the middle class, between the junior executives and the craftsmen or shopkeepers, vary according to tne activity or asset in question. This effect seems to support the relativist'0 critique of the social classes until it is seen that there is a relationship between the nature of these activities or assets, for example, theatre-going or possession of a colour TV, and the structure of each group's capital. Once one takes account of the structure of total assets—and not only, as has always been done implicitly, of the dominant kind in a given structure, 'birth', 'fortune' or 'talents', as the nineteenth century put it— one has the means of making more precise divisions and also of observing the specific effects of the structure of distribution between the different kinds of capital. This may, for example, be symmetrical (as in the case of the professions, which combine very high income with very high cultural capital) or asymmetrical (in the case of higher-education and secondary teachers or employers, with cultural capital dominant in one case, economic capital in the other). One thus discovers two sets of homologous positions. The fractions whose reproduction depends on economic capital, usually inherited—industrial and commercial employers at the higher level, craftsmen and shopkeepers at the intermediate level—are opposed to the fractions which are least endowed (relatively, of course) with economic capital, and whose reproduction mainly depends on cultural capital—higher-education and secondary teachers at the higher level, primary teachers at the intetmediate level. The industrialists, who are grouped with the commercial employers in surveys by representative sample because of their small number, declare considerably higher incomes than the latter (33.6 percent say they earn more than 100,000 French francs, as against 14.5 percenr of the commercial employers). Those classified as industrialists in the INSEE survey (C.S. I) are much closer to the new bourgeoisie than are the commercial employers: many more of them declare salaries and invesrment income, many fewer declare industrial, commercial or non-commercial profits. For the working classes, who are strongly ranked by overall capital volume, the data available do not enable one to grasp the differences in the second dimension (composition of capital). However, differences such as those between semi-skilled, educationally unqualified, provincial factory workers of rural origin, living in an inherited farmhouse, and skilled workers in the Paris region who have been in the working class for generations, who possess a 'trade' or technical qualifications, must be the source of differences in life-style and religious and political opinion. 116 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 117 Given that, as one moves from the artists to the industrial and commercial employers, volume of economic capital rises and volume of cij. rural capital falls, it can be seen that the dominant class is organized in a chiastic structure. To establish this, it is necessary to use various i-r- ) tors borrowed from a survey which has the advantage of distinguishing between public-sector and private-sector executives (C.S. V) to examine successively, the distribution of economic capital and the distribution of cultural capital among the fractions; the structures of these distributions must then be correlated. Although it is self-evident when one considers indicators of wealth (as will be done later), the hierarchy of the class fractions as regards possession of ■ economic capital, running from industrial and commercial employers to teachers, is already less visible when, as here, one is only dealing with indices of consumption (cars, boats, hotels) which are neither entirely adequate nor entirely unambiguous (see rable 6). The first (cars) also depends on the type of professional activity, and the other two depend on spare time, which, as one learns in other ways, varies inversely with economic capital. Home ownership also depends on stability in the same place of residence (lower among executives, engineers and teachers). Incomes are very unevenly underestimated (the rate of non-declaration may be considered an indicator of the tendency to under-declare) and very unequally accompanied by fringe benefits such as expense-account meals and business trips (which are known to rise as one moves from teachers to private-sector executives and employers). As regards cultural capital, except for a few inversions, which reflect sec- : ondary variables such as place of residence, with the corresponding supply of culture, and income, with the means it provides, the different fractions are organized in an opposite hierarchy (see rable 7). (Differentiation accord-" ing ro the type of capital possessed, literary, scientific or economic and political, is mainly seen in the fact that engineers show more interest in music and 'intellectual' games such as bridge or chess than in literary acrivities— theatre-going or reading he Figaro Litteraire.) These indicators no doubt tend to minimize the gaps between the different fractions. Most cultural consumption also entails an economic cost: the-: atre-going, for example, depends on income as well as education. Moreover, equipment such as FM radios or hi-fi systems can be used in very different ways (e.g., classical music or dance music), whose values, in terms of the dominant hierarchy of possible uses, may vary as much as the different types. of reading-matter or theatre. In fact, the position of the different fractions ranked according to their interest in the different types of reading-matter tends ro correspond to their posirion when ranked according to volume of cultutal capital as one moves towards the rarer types of reading, which are known to be those most linked to educational level and highest in the hierarchy of cultural legitimacy (see table 8). One also finds (C.S. XIV, table 215a) that the over-representation of teachers (and students) in the audience of the different theatres steadily de- .:■ It 6 v £ .SPS O n"-i h*i t\] * * * * ^ CO ^ V> CI ~< CN iR * * * fc- 5 1 •■ S 3 r\ r-i (mW ; 00 G\ I-"- CN : f-J O 'O rf{ P s£> G\ CO O G\ t^i •si 2 0 -fi 122 / The Economy of Practices the professions (especially doctors and lawyers), relatively well endowed with both forms of capital, but too little integrated into economic life r use their capital in it actively, invest in their children's education but al: and especially in cultural practices which symbolize possession of the ma-terial and cultural means of maintaining a bourgeois life-style and whicl provide a social capital, a capital of social connections, honourability and . . respectability that is often essential in winning and keeping the confi dence of high society, and with it a clientele, and may be drawn on, for example, in making a political career. Given that scholastic success mainly depends on inherited cultural capital and on the propensity ro invest in the educational system (and that the latter varies with the degree to which maintained or improved social position depends on such success), it is clear why the proportion of pupils in a given school or college who come from rhe culturally richest fractions rises : with the position of that school in the specifically academic hierarchy (mea-sured, for example, by previous academic success), reaching its peak in the . institution responsible for reproducing the professorial corps (the Ecole Normale Superieure). In fact, like the dominant class which they help to reproduce, higher-education institutions are organized in accordance with two opposing principles of hierarchy. The hierarchy dominant within the educational system, i.e., the one which tanks institutions by specifically aca- . demic criteria, and, correlatively, by rhe proporrion of their students drawn from the culturally richest fractions, is diametrically opposed to the hietar- ■: chy dominant outside rhe educational system, i.e., the one which ranks in- . stitutions by the proportion of their students drawn from the fractions richest in economic capital or in power and by the position in the economic or power hierarchy of the occupations they lead to. If the offspring of the dominated fractions are less represented in the economically highest :> institutions (such as ENA or HEC) than might be expected from their previous academic success and rhe position of these schools in the specifically scholastic hierarchy, this is, of course, because these schools refuse to apply purely scholastic criteria, but it is also because the scholastic hierarchy is most faithfully respected (so that the science section of the ENS is preferred to Polytechnique, or the Arts faculty to Sciences Po), by rhose who are most dependent on the educational system. (Blindness to alternarive ranking principles is most nearly complere in the case of teachers' children, whose whole upbringing inclines them to identify all success with academic success.) The same chiastic structure is found at the level of the middle classes, ■ where volume of cultural capital again declines, while economic capital increases, as one moves from primary teachers to small industrial and commercial employers, with junior executives, technicians and cleric! -workers in an intermediate position, homologous to that of engineers and executives at the higher level. Artistic craftsmen and art-dealers, who earn their living from industrial and commetcial profits, and are close in ■ The Social Space and Its Transformations / 123 those respects to other small businessmen, are set apart from them by their relatively high cultural capital, which brings them closer to the new petite bourgeoisie. The medical and social services, drawn to a relatively large extent from the dominant class,19 are in a central position, roughly homologous to that of the professions (although slightly more tilted to-wafds the pole of cultural capital); they are the only ones who receive not only wages or salaries but also, in some cases, non-commercial profits (like the professions). It can immediately be seen that the homology between the space of the dominant class and that of the middle classes is explained by the fact that their structure is the product of the same principles. In each case, there is an opposition between owners (of their own home, of rural or urban property, of stocks and shares), often older, with little spare time, often the children of industrial or agricultural employers, and non-owners, chiefly endowed with educational capital and spare time, originating from the wage-earning fractions of the middle and upper classes or from the working class. The occupants of homologous positions, primary teachers and professors, for example, or small shopkeepers and commercial entrepreneurs, are mainly separated by the volume of the kind of capital that is dominant in the structure of their assets, i.e., by differences of degree which separate individuals unequally endowed with the same scarce resources. The lower positions—and, correlatively, the dispositions of their occupants—derive some of their characteristics from the fact that they are objectively related to the corresponding positions at the higher level, towards which they tend and 'pre-tend'. This is clearly seen in the case of the wage-earning petite bourgeoisie, whose ascetic virtues and cultural good intentions—which it manifests in all sorts of ways, taking evening classes, enrolling in libraries, collecting stamps etc.—very clearly express the aspiration to rise to the higher position, the objective destiny of the occupants of the lower position who manifest such dispositions. To reconstruct the social conditions of production of the habitus as fully as possible, one also has to consider the social trajectory of the class or class fraction the agent belongs to, which, through the probable slope of the collective future, engenders progressive or regressive dispositions towards the future; and the evolution, over several generations, of the asset structure of each lineage, which is perpetuated in the habitus and introduces divisions even within groups that are as homogeneous as the fractions. To give an idea of the range of possibilities, it need only be pointed out that an individual's social trajectory represents the combination of: the lifelong evolution of the volume of his capital, which can be described, very approx-imarely, as increasing, decreasing or stationary; rhe volume of each sort of capital (amenable to the same distinctions), and therefore the composition of his capital (since constant volume can conceal a change in structure); 124 / The Economy of Practices and, in the same way, the father's and mother's asset volume and structure and their respective weights in the different kinds of capital (e.g., father stronger in economic capital and mother in cultural capital, or vice versa, or equivalence); and therefore the volume and structure of the capital of both sets of grandparents. To account more fully for the differences in life-style between the il-t ferent fractions—especially as regards culture—one would have to take account of their disrribution in a socially ranked geographical space. \ group's chances of appropriating any given class of rare assets (as mea sured by the mathematical probability of access) depend partly on its imparity for the specific appropriation, defined by the economic, cultural and social capital it can deploy in order to appropriate materially or symbolically the assets in question, that is, its position in social space, and partly on rhe relationship berween its distribution in geographical space ' _-. and the distribution of the scarce assets in that space.20 (This relationship can be measured in average distances from goods or facilities, or in travelling time—which involves access to private or public transport.) In othn words, a group's real social distance from certain assets must integrate tk geographical distance, which itself depends on the group's spatial .1 , 1-bution and, more precisely, its distribution with respect to the "focal point' of economic and cultural values, i.e., Paris or the major regional centres (in some careers—e.g., in the postal banking system—employ ment or promotion entails a period of exile)."1 Thus, the distance of farm workers from legitimate culture would not be so vast if the specifically cultural distance implied by their low cultural capital were not corn-pounded by their spatial dispersion. Similarly, many of the difference -observed in the (cultural and other) practices of the different fractions of the dominant class are no doubt attributable to the size of the town they live in. Consequently, the opposition between engineers and private-sector executives on the one hand, and industrial and commercial employers on the other, partly stems from the fact that the former mostly live in Pans and work for relatively large firms (only 7 percent of private-sector executives work in firms employing from 1 to 5 people, a1-against 34 percent in medium-sized firms and 40 percent in firms < -i.-ploying more than 50 people), whereas the latter mainly run small rn-(in the 1966 survey by SOFRES [Societe franchise d'enquetes par son dages]—C.S. V—6 percent of the industrialists had from 1 to 5 employees; 70 percent, 6 to 49; 24 percent, more than 50; in commerce, the corresponding figures are 30 percent, 42 percent and 12 percent) and mostly live in the provinces and even in the country (according to r> 1968 census, 22.3 percent of the industrialists and 15.5 percent of i1 -commercial employers lived in a rural commune, 14.1 percent and 11.8 percent in communes of less than 10,000 inhabitants). The model which emerges would not be so difficult to arrive at if it did The Social Space and Its Transformations / 125 not presuppose a break with the common-sense picture of the social world, summed up in the metaphor of the 'social ladder' and suggested ■ by all the everyday language of'mobility', with its 'rises' and 'falls'; and a no less radical break with the whole sociological tradition which, when it is not merely tacitly accepting the one-dimensional image of social space, as most research on 'social mobility' does, subjects it to a pseudo-scientific elaboration, reducing the social universe to a continuum of abstract strata ('upper middle class', 'lower middle class' etc.),22 obtained by aggregating different forms of capital, thanks to the construction of indices (which are, par excellence, the destroyers of structures).23 Projection onto a single axis, in order to construct the continuous, linear, homogeneous, one-dimensional scries with which the social hierarchy is normally identified, implies an extremely difficult (and, if it is unwitting, extremely dangerous) operation, whereby the different types of capital are reduced ro a single standard. This abstract operation has an objective basis in the possibility, which is always available, of converting one type of capital into another; however, the exchange rates vary in accordance with the power relation between the holders of the different forms of capital. By obliging one to formulate the principle of the convertibility of the different kinds of capital, which is the precondition for reducing the space to one dimension, the construction of a two-dimensional space makes it clear that the exchange rate of the different kinds of capital is one of the fundamental stakes in the struggles between class fractions whose power and privileges are linked to one or the other of these types. In particular, this exchange rate is a stake in the struggle over the dominant principle of domination (economic capital, cultural capital or social capital), which goes on at all times between the different fractions of the dominant class. Reconversion Strategies Reproduction strategies, the set of outwardly very different practices whereby individuals or families tend, unconsciously and consciously, to maintain or increase their assets and consequently to maintain or improve their position in the class structure, constitute a system which, being the product of a single unifying, generative principle, tends to function and change in a systematic way. Through the mediation of the disposition towards the future, which is itself determined by the group's objective chances of reproduction, these strategies depend, first, on the volume and composition of the capital to be reproduced; and, secondly, on the state of the instruments of reproduction (inheritance law and custom, the labour market, the educational system etc.), which itself depends on the state of the power relations between the classes. Any change in either the instruments of reproduction or the state of the capital to be reproduced therefore leads to a restructuring of the system of reproduc- 126 / The Economy of Practices One of the difficulties of sociological discourse lies in the fact that, like all language, it unfolds in strictly linear fashion, whereas, to escape oversimplification and one-sidedness, one ought to be able to recall at every point the whole network of relationships found there. That is why it has seemed useful to present a diagram which has the property, as Saussure says, of being able to 'present simultaneous complications in several dimensions', as a means of grasping the correspondence between the structure of social space—whose two fundamental dimensions correspond to the volume and composition of the capital of the groups distributed within it—and the structure of the space of the symbolic properties attached to those groups. But rhis diagram does not aim to be the crystal ball in which the alchemists claimed to see at a glance everything happening in the world; and like mathematicians who also treat what they call 'imagery' as a necessary evil, I am tempted to withdraw it in the very act of presenting ir. For there is reason ro fear that it will encourage readings which will reduce the homologies between systems of differences to direct, mechanical relationships between groups and properties; or that it will encourage the form of voyeurism which is inherent in the objeccivist intention, putting the sociologist in the role of the lame devil who takes off the roofs and reveals the secrets of domestic life to his fascinated readers. To have as exact an idea as possible of the theoretical model that is proposed, it has to be imagined that three diagrams are superimposed (as could be done with transparent sheets). The first (here, figure 5) presents the space of social condi- ~ tions, as organized by the synchronic and diachronic distribution of the volume and composition of the various kinds of capital; the position of each group (class fraction) in rhis space is determined by i the set of properties characteristic in . the respects thus denned as perti- * nent. The second (figure 6) presents the space of life-styles, i.e., the distribution of the practices and properties which constitute the life-style in (; which each of these conditions man- A ifests itself Finally, between the two A previous diagrams one ought to in- ; sert a third, presenting the theoretical space of habitus, that is, of the generative formulae (e.g., for teach- ; ers, aristocratic asceticism) which underlie each of the classes of prac- ; tices and properties, that is, the transformation into a distinct and distinctive life-sryle of the necessities and facilities characteristic of a condition and a position. The figures presented here are not plane diagrams of correspondence analyses, al- -though various such analyses were drawn on in order ro construct them, and although a number of these are organized in accordance with a similar structure (including J the analyses of the survey data which are presenred below). Among the limitations of such a ; construct, the most important are due to the lacunae in the statistics, . which are much better at measuring consumption or, at best, income (setting aside secondary and hidden profits) and property than capital in the strict sense (especially capital invested in the economy); others are . due to the inadequacies of the analytical categories. These are very un- The Social Space and Its Transformations / 127 equally homogeneous even as re-gards rhe pertincnr criteria and, in the case of the industrial and commercial employers, make it impossible, for example, ro identify the holders of a capital that can exert power over capital, i.e., big business. (For lack of rigorous indicators of the dispersion of rhe different categories, the economic and cultural dispersion of rhe mosr heterogeneous categories—farmers, industrial and commercial employers, craftsmen and shopkeepers—has been indicated by writing the corresponding names vertically between the extreme limits defining the group.) It has ro be remembered that the position marked by the names always represents the central point in a space of variable extent which may in some cases be organized as a field of competition. In the absence of a survey (perhaps impossible to carry out in practice) that would provide, with respect to the same representative sample, all the indicators of economic, cultural and social wealrh and its evolution which are needed in order ro construcr an adequate representation of social space, a simplified model of that space has been constructed, based on information acquired rhrough earlier research, and on a set of data taken from various surveys, all done by INSEE and Therefore homogeneous at least as regards the construction of the categories (see appendix 3). From the INSEE survey of 1967 on leisure activities (tables relating to men) I have taken indicators of spare rime such as length of rhe working week (C.S. IV); from the 1970 survey on vocational training (tables relating to men) I have taken data on the father's occupational category (social ttajectory), the father's educa- tional level (inherited cultural capital) and the subject's educational level (scholastic capital) (C.S. II); from the 1970 survey on incomes, I have taken information on total incomes, rural and urban property, shares, industrial and commercial profits, wages and salaries (economic capital) (C.S. I); from rhe 1972 survey on household consumption, data on the total amount spent, possession of a washing-machine and Telephone, forms of tenancy of main and second residence (C.S. Ill); and from the 1968 census, data on the size of the town of residence. For each of the groups represented, I have also indicated, firstly, the distribution of the occupants of each group according to the social trajectory which has brought them there, with histograms showing the proportion of each group having come from each of the different classes. For rhe sake of lcgibiliry, these histograms are reproduced only for a few illustrative categories. They suffice ro show that the proportion of individuals from rhe dominant class (black) rises strongly, while the proportion from the working classes (white) declines, as one moves up the social hierarchy. (The histogram for the 'semi-skilled' workers, not reproduced here, is inrermediate between those of the unskilled and skilled workers.) For the upper and middle classes at least, one really needs to be able to give the distribution by fraction of origin. Secondly, I have indicated the history of the group as a whole. This is shown by rhe arrows, pointing up, down or horizontally, which indicate that between 1962 and 1968 the group in question expanded (by at least 25 percenr), conrracted or Figure 5 (shown in black) The space of social positions. Capital volume (+) father higher educatic" f opera non-commercial books cm an piano- antique shops Coionne concůíiii go i i bridge co ok talis Re-n^T Duty 50-60 hrs. work Warhol Xenak:s Webern Beulez To-! Quel left-bank galleries avantgarde fssMvals Higher-ed, teachers & Artistic producers & KandilSky Brecht TEP TN P L'e Monde Chinese ^sfaurant 4orc3isjn lancji F rance-ťviu si que fiea market DííiiHca! or philosophical 5K3yr> TiisrfipS Mo^emes V Ex [mansion Bach frozen food mountains I Professions ^ [ 2.1 children I S3.000F - C 57,100F whisky Vßaarsiy Private-sector executives 2 children Knoll furniture 40-50 hrs. work Paris region Engineers Secondary teachers Public-sector executives ™ 'rave; ftŕ-fi stocks and shares termis water-skiinc; second hums urban property boulevard theatre buying home ■ movie camera cíli care ^paS flbble Watteau U Fkjaro Co métííe-F-s iigaise Nouvcl Observateur lithographs lig^c grills- Braaue C40,100F Breughel museum Vivaldi L Express Goya BuAuel towns > 100,000 pop. Ftomariesquo churches Kafka cycling'holidays country walking campmp swimming Frsrtcf^CutU-re tenc home champagne salad father wage*amer Renault 16 mineral wate Drasserss JacejufcS Douar art collection riijht-banK queries Conrtaissanc© 6®% Ar!:? Automobile Club foreign-car riding 1 102.000F hotel holiday auction C 47.7O0F busires.ii meals Peugyot 504 Citrcftn DS GS trade fairs 2.1 children 50-60 hrs. work Íl PriH Gcncaurt till (r>"ai narrat ve Hit,"! hunting Lector, pouf Tdus J 62.000F towns < 50.000 pop. tout tfargenl homeowner music-hall father employer Cultural capital (+) Economic capital 0 Havel wages / salaries psychology Stravinsky cm&na club father BEPC surfing wes^inc yoga Van Gogh hang-gilding Irekkiny mmibus ceramics ecology modern jazz Social and medical services ^ Economic capita) (+) Cultural capital O "L _Ji industrial and commercial profits 41 -Vlart. nhtjioc;' rtp-v AI.mi nwrn fíhajjsoííy řfi Sin- I 53.000E- . .. : 1,7 children = Primary teachers * baccalauréat i^mp rulKc1"-Suíaiioí; ei Vie C 36.000? i BEC-BEH Technicians library artce-Soir-' - Europe RenauU W iiiTíga 1100 Junior administratíve executives father CEP Buffet c BEPC 1.7 children Renault a 40-45 hrs. Sheila work johnny Hailyda? Office workers J? Commercial employees « sparkling > 60 hrs, work ice sewing do-i f-yourself j Foremen ■ beer bicycle i fishing funfair LlL CAP-BP I 21.000F 1.9 rhildrai TV watching sports villages farming profits I I I 3 children i«ve atones. Deny E é víta n Lou i s de FiinôR pef3Jiqu& Pernoc spark!'líg while v Figure 6 (shown in grey) The space of life-styles. I 18nO00F - C26.000F 45-50 hrs. work ÍMtbf J Skilled workers —*»- | public dances 2.8 children Fernandel BrigStío Bardoí rugby potatoes ordmary red wir bacon EL f 1 no qualification father no qualification Capital volume (3) HO I The Economy of Practica The Social Space and hi Tramformations / 131 remained stable. They thus make visible the opposition between the new, strongly growing fracrions and the established, stable or declining fractions. I have thus endeavoured to show both the state of the power relation between the classes which constitutes the structure of the social space at a given moment and also something which is simultaneously an effect of and a factor in the transformation of that structure, namely the reconversion strategies whereby individuals (and groups) strive to maintain or improve their position in social space. The synoptic schema, by bringing together information from areas which rhe usual classificatory sys-rems separare—so much so that they make mere juxtaposition appeat unthinkable or scandalous—and so making manifest the relationships among all the properties and practices characteristic of a group, which are perceived intuitively and which guide the classificarions of everyday life, forces one to look for the basis of each of these systems of 'choices', on the one hand in the social conditions and conditionings characteristic of a given position in objective social space, which are expressed in those choices but in a misrecogniz-able form, and on the other hand, in their relationship to the other systems of 'choices', by reference to which their specifically symbolic meaning and value are defined. Because life-styles are essentially distinctive, a number of features do not take on their full significance until they ate brought into relation not only with the social positions they express but also with features appearing at an opposite pole of this space. This is the case, for example, wirh rhe opposirions which are established primordially between the positions most remote from each other in one or both of the fund mental dimensions of social space (i.e., with respect to volume and composition of capital): Goya and Renoir, avant-garde theatre and boulevard theatre, Jacques Bre! and Tino Rossi, France-Musique and France-Inter or Radio Luxembourg, cinema clubs and variery shows and so forth. In addition to the information gathered direcrly by rhe survey, I have used a number of indices of cultural consumption, such as possession of a piano or records, TV-viewing, visits to museums, exhibitions, variety shows and the cinema, membership in a library, evening classes, collections, sports, all taken from the 1967 INSEE survey on leisure activities (C.S. IV); informa-tion on the consumption and life-styles of members of the dominant class (hi-fi equipment, sailing, cruises, btidge, picture collections, champagne, whisky, sports etc.) from surveys by the SOFRES and CESP (C.S. V and VI); information on theatre-going from a survey by SEMA (Sociere d'economie et de marhematiques apphquees) (C.S. XIV); on favourite actors, from the surveys by IFOP (Institut francais de l'opinion publique) (C.S. XIV): on the reading of daily and weekly newspapers and magazines, from the sutveys by the CSE (Centre de sociologie europeenne) and CESP : (C.S. XXVIII); and on various cultural activities (ceramics, pottery, funfairs ere.) from the survey by the Ministry of Culture (C.S. VII). In rhe resulting figure, each pertinent item appears only once and is therefore valid for a whole zone (of varying extent depending on the case) of social space, although it most strongly characterizes the category to which it is closest. (Thus the item 'wages/salaries', marked half-way up the left-hand side of figure 5 and opposed to 'industrial and commercial profits', is valid for the whole of the left-hand side of the social space, i.e., for the university and secondary teachers, senior executives and engineers and also the primary teachers, junior executives, technicians, clerical workers and manual workers. Similarly, the item 'stocks and shares'—top right—applies to employers, the professions, private-secror executives and engineers.) It can be seen immediately that possession of a piano and the choice of the Concerto for the Left Hand are most typical of members of the professions; that walking and mountaineering are particularly characteristic of secondary teachers and public-sector execurives; or that swimming, placed half-way between the new petite bourgeoisie and the private-sector executives or the engineers, belongs to the life-style of both these sets of occupations. Thus, grouped around the name of each class fraction are those features of its life-style which are the most pertinent because they are the most distinctive—though it may in fact share them with other groups. This is the case, for example, with the use of a library, which appears in the area of the junior executives, primary teachers and technicians, although it is at least as frequent among secondary and university teachers; but the latter are less marked by the practice since it is part of their occuparional role. rion strategies. The reconversion of capital held in one form to another, more accessible, more profitable or more legitimate form tends to induce a transformation of asset structure. These reconversions correspond to movements in a social space which has nothing in common with the unreal and yet naively realistic space of so-called 'social mobility' studies. The same positivistic naivety which sees 'upward mobility' in the morphological transformations of different classes or fractions is also unaware that the reproduction of the social structure may, in certain conditions, demand very little 'occupational heredity'. This is true whenever agents can only maintain their position in the social structure by means of a shift into a new condition (e.g., the shift from small landowner to junior civil servant, or from small craftsman to office worker or commercial employee). The social space, being structured in two dimensions (overall capital volume and dominant/dominated capital), allows two types of movement which traditional mobility studies confuse, although they are in no way equivalent and are unequally probable: vertical movements, upwards or downwards, in the same vertical sector, that is, in the same field (e.g., from schoolteacher to professor, or from small businessman to big businessman); and transverse movements, from one field to another, which may occur either horizontally (a schoolteacher, or his son, becomes a small shopkeeper) or between different levels (a shopkeeper, or his son, 132 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 133 becomes an industrialist). Vertical movements, the most frequent ones ; only require an increase in the volume of the type of capital already dorni- ■■■ nant in the asset structure, and therefore a movement in the structure of'-. rhe distribution of total capital which takes the fotm of a movement: within a field (business field, academic field, administrative field, medicaT-field etc.). Transverse movements entail a shift into another field and the reconversion of one type of capital into another or of one sub-type into another sub-type (e.g., from landowning to industrial capital or from literature to economics) and therefore a transformation of asset structure which protects overall capital volume and maintains position in the vertical dimension. The probability of entering a given fraction of the dominant class from another class is, as we have seen, in inverse ratio to the position of that fraction in the hierarchy of economic capital. (The only exception is the 'liberal professions', which tend to transmit both economic and cultural capital and have the highest rate ot endogenous recruitment.) Similarly major sideways movements within the class (industrialists' sons becoming secondary or higher-education teachers, or vice versa) are extremely rare Thus, in 1970, the probability of becoming an industrial or commercial employer was 1.9 percent for a professor's son, and the probability of becoming a teacher was 0.8 percent for an industrialist's son and 1.5 percent for a commercial entrepreneur's son. The probability of becoming a craftsman or shopkeeper was 1.2 percent for a primary teacher's son, and the probability of becoming a primary teacher was 2.4 percent for a craftsman's son and 1 4 percent for a small shopkeeper's son (C.S. 11, secondary analysis). class mobility and mobile classes The recent changes in the relationship between the different classes and the educational system—with the 'schooling boom' and the accompanying changes in the system itself—and also the changes in the social structute resulting from the new relationship between qualifications and jobs, are the consequences of intensified competition for academic qualifications. One important factor in intensifying this competition has doubtless been the fact that those fractions of the dominant class and middle class who are richest in economic capital (i.e., industrial and commercial employers, craftsmen and tradesmen) have had to make greatly increased use of the educational system in order to ensure their social reproduction. The dispariry berween the scholastic capital of the adults of a class or class fraction (measured by the proportion who have a qualification equal or superior to the BEPC) and the schooling rate of the corresponding adolescents is much mote pronounced among craftsmen, shopkeepers and industrialists than among office workers and junior executives. This break in the usual correspondence berween the children's educational participation rates and the parents' cultural capital indicares a profound change m dispo- sitions towards scholastic investment. Many fewer small craftsmen and shopkeepers aged 45-54 than office workers have at least the BEPC (in 1962, 5-7 percent as against 10.1 percent), but their 18-year-old sons ate equally likely to be in school (42.1 percent and 43.3 percent in 1962). Similarly industrialists and commercial entrepreneurs have less educational capital than technicians and junior executives (20 percent and 28.9 percent respectively have at least the BEPC), but their sons are equally likely to be in school (65.8 percent and 64.2 percent). The same process has begun among farm workers, as is shown by the rapid rise in their children's schooling rate between 1962 and 1975." When class fractions who previously made little use of the school system enter the race for academic qualifications, the effect is to force the groups whose reproduction was mainly or exclusively achieved through education to step up their investments so as to maintain the relative scarcity of their qualifications and, consequently, their position in the class structure. Academic qualifications and rhe school system which awards them thus become one of the key stakes in an interclass competition which generates a genera! and continuous growth in the demand for education and an inflation of academic qualifications. To the effects of the competition between groups struggling for 'upclassing' and against 'downclassing' (dedassement), a competition that is organized around the academic qualification {titre) and more generally around all the 'entitlements' by which groups assert and constitute their own scarcity value vis-a-vis other groups, must be added the effect of what might be termed a structural factor. Generally increased schooling has the effect of increasing the mass of cultural capital which, at every moment, exists in an 'embodied' state Since the success of the school's educative action and the durability of its effects depend on how much cultural capital has been directly transmitted by the family, it can be presumed that the efficiency of school-based educative action tends to rise constantly, other things being equal. In short, the same scholastic investment becomes more profitable, a fact which no doubt contributes to inflation by bringing diplomas within reach of a greater number of people. Bearing in mind that the volume of corresponding jobs may also have varied over the same period, one may assume that a qualification is likely to have undergone devaluation if the number of diploma-holders has grown more rapidly than the number of suirable positions. Everything seems to suggest that the baccalauréat and lower qualifications are the ones most affected by such devaluation. To this must be added the less obvious devaluation resulting from the fact that if the number of corresponding jobs does keep pace, the positions themselves are likely to lose some of their scarcity value. This is what has happened, for example, to jobs at all levels of the teaching profession. The very rapid growth in girls' and women's education has been a sig- 134 / The Economy of Practices nificant factor in the devaluing of academic qualifications. Because rhe " image of the division of labour between the sexes has also changed, mo-i women now bring academic qualifications onto the labour market which B previously were partly held in reserve (and were 'invested' only in the I! marriage market); and the higher the diploma, the more marked this growth has been (see table 10). Just as all segregation (by sex or any il other criterion) tends to slow down devaluation by its numerus clausui' effect, so all desegregarion tends to restore full strength to the devaluing mechanisms; and, as an American study of the effects of racial desegregation has shown, the least qualified are the ones who feel the effects most : directly. Indeed, it presents no paradox to suggest that the chief victims of the devaluing of academic qualifications are those who enter the labour* market without such qualifications. The devaluation of diplomas is accompanied by the gradual extension of the monopoly held by academic-? qualification-holders over positions previously open to the academically unqualified, which has the effect of limiting the devaluation of qualifications by limiting the competition, but only at the cost of restricting the career openings available to the unqualified and of reinforcing the academic predetermination of occupational opportunity. In certain areas, particularly the civil service, this leads to a decline both in the dispersal of the holders of the same qualifications among different jobs and in the dispersal of the qualifications of holders of equivalent jobs, or, in other words, a reinforced correlation between academic qualification and job occupied. The market in jobs open to formally qualified candidates has grown constantly, inevitably at rhe expense of the formally unqualified. Universal recognition of academic qualifications no doubr has the effect of unifying the official set of qualifications for social positions and of eliminating local anomalies due to the existence of social spaces with their own rank-ordering principles. However, academic qualifications never achieve total, exclusive acceptance. Outside the specifically scholastic market, a diploma is worth what its holder is worth, economically and socially; the rate of return on educational capital is a function of the economic and social capital that can be devoted to exploiting it. The change in the distribution of posts among qualification-holders Table 10 Rate of employment of women aged 23-34, by education, 1962 and 1968' Year CEP CAP BEPC Bac 1962 1968 43.8 46.3 59.7 60.6 59.8 63.5 67.1 74.3 67.9 77-5.. Source: 1968 census. a. It was not possible to isolate women without qualifications. The Social Space and Its Transformations / 135 which resulrs automatically from the increased number of formally qualified agents means that at every moment a proportion of the qualifica-lion-holders—starting, no doubt, with those who are least well endowed wjfh the inherited means of exploiting their qualifications—are vicrims of devaluation. The strategies by which those who are most subject to devaluation endeavour to fight against it, in the short term (in the course of their own careers) or in the long term (through the strategies they employ for their children's schooling), constitute one of the decisive factors in the growth in rhe volume of qualifications awarded, which itself contribures to devaluation. The dialectic of devaluation and compensation thus tends to feed on itself. reconversion strategies and morphological transformations The strategies which individuals and families employ with a view to safeguarding or improving their position in social space are reflected in transformations which modify both the volume of the different class fractions and the structure of their assets. Table 11 has been constructed so as to give at least an approximate idea of these Transformations. Since ir was not possible (though it would have been desirable) to establish in narrowly defined caregories the changes in total income and income structure for the period 1954-1975 (instead, table 12 indicates these changes, in broad categories, for the period 1954-1968), I have indicated the distriburion by source of income and the total income declared to the tax authorities, the source used by INSEE. It is known, however, that the degree of underestimation varies greatly. According to A. Villeneuve.^ wages and salaries should be multiplied by 1.1, farmers' profits by 3.6, investment income by 2.9 and so forth. Once these corrections are applied, the members of rhe professions, and especially the farmers, craftsmen and small shopkeepers, return ro their real places. The categories (relatively) richest in economic capiral (as represented by mdicatots such as stocks and shares, rural or urban property etc.) tend to regress very sharply, as is shown by the decline in their volume (in the case of the farmers, craftsmen, shopkeepers and industrialists) and by the fall or relatively small increase in rhe proportion of young people. (The facr that this has not occurred in the 'small shopkeeper* and 'craftsman' categories is explained by the coming of a new style of shopkeeper and craftsman.) Part of rhe apparent increase in rhe educational (and, no doubt, economic) capital of these categories is probably due to the fact that the reduction in their numbers chiefly concerns their lower strata. Bv contrast, the fracrions richesr in cultural capiral (measured by educational qualifications) have greatly expanded. They have acquired more young people, a higher proportion of women, and a higher rate of educational qualification. The categories most typical of this process are office workers and shop workers, technicians, junior and senior executives, primary teachers and especially secondary and tertiary reachers (in the last case the interlinked changes are particularly intense). Among engineers, how- 136 J The Economy of Practices V V s ° C C £ 5 s.e i 6 r is 6 a el 2 "9 P, S - £ £ X 00 O OvCv^ r- o a■ «*i .-. - - - ~r ^ r —i r^r r- o ~3 "> £ § S .JO C o -«t o ; o c 2 0 ^ \j 5 in N C j\ •r, i-^ ■O ^0 C\ m * rj" O » g ' ¥ J= a, " 0 .Eas-3-s be™" 2 o s § 3 8 lii «4, u t 11 !_ IS15 -a = o if Mill ^ 111'^ 11% *1 ell -.HmtrjC-Co TA? 5^w? and Its Transformations / 157 ever, the process seems to have stopped, since the rate of increase is lower for the youngest generation than for the group as a whole. Another remarkable fearure is the relative stability of the 'liberal professions', whose deliberate policy of numerus clausus has prevented numerical growth and feminization and helped to maintain scarcity value. The new reproduction strategies which underlie these morphological changes are seen partly in the increased importance of salaries in the income of the traditionally 'self-employed' categories and partly in the diversified assets and investments of the senior executives, who tend to hold their capital in both economic and cultural form, unlike the employers, who mainly hold economic capital. Salaries and pensions, as a proportion of employers' incomes, rise from 12.9 percent in 1956 to 16.4 percent in 1965; in 1975, with new classifications, they make up 19.2 percent of the income of craftsmen and small shopkeepers and 31.8 percent of the income of industrialists and commercial entrepreneurs. (By contrasr, among farmers, the proportion remains much the same: 23-8 percent in 1956, 23.5 percent in 1965 and 24.8 percent in 1975.) In 1975, the proportion of income derived from investment in land, buildings, stocks and shares is much higher among private-sector than public-sector senior executives (5.9 percent and 2.7 percent respectively). The teconversion of economic capital into educational capital is one of the strategies which enable the business bourgeoisie to maintain the position of some ot all of its heirs, by enabling them to extract some of the profits of industrial and commercial firms in the form of salaries, which are a more discreet—and no doubt more reliable—mode"of appropriation than 'unearned' investment income. Thus, between 1954 and 1975 the proportion of industrial and commercial entrepreneurs fell sharply, whereas there was a very strong rise in the proportion of salary-earners, who owed their position to their academic qualifications—executives, engineers, teachers and intellectuals (although, at least in the case of private-sector executives, a significant proportion of total income may be derived ftom shares, as table 13 indicates). Similarly, the disappearance of many small commercial or craft firms conceals rhe reconversion work which individual agents perform, with varying degrees of success, in accordance with the demands of their particular situation, and which results in a transformation of the relative weight of the different fractions of the middle classes (see table 14), Here, too, the decrease in the proportion of small shopkeepers, craftsmen, and farmers has been accompanied by an increase in the proportion of primary-school teachers, technicians, and the personnel of the medical and social services. Furthermore, the relative morphological stability of an occupational ... group may conceal a transformation of its structure resulting from the conversion in situ of agents present in the group ar the beginning of the period (or their children) or their replacement by agents from other groups. For example, the relatively small decline in the overall volume of Table 12 Changes in morphology and asset structure of the class fractions, 1954- 1968. Volume in 1968 Index of change in volume, 1954-1968 (1954=100) Class fraction Both Men Both Men sexes (1) only (1) sexes (1) only (1) Index of change in number of under-35s, 1962-1968 (1962=100) (1) Educational capital, 1968, by % of male quali6cation-holders Farm workers Farmers Manual workers Clerical and commercial Junior executives Craftsmen Small shopkeepers Big commercial employers Industrialists All industrial and ii i i' it i .11-' ■ ■ ■!■ Professions 588,200 527,200 51 54' 2,459,840 1,527,780 62 65 7,698,600 6,128,840 119 123 3,029,900 1,188,300 146 121 2,014,000 1,197,360 177 168 622,800 532,340 85 88 1,028,160 515,440 81 85 213,500 143,840 116 110 79,160 68,940 93 93 1.943,620 1,360.560 OA 96 14J.520 114,920 119 112 <~-\t;lnt ' II 1 1',, 183 _ Annual income (francs), Average 1965 household (primary assets (francs), Higher-ed. income) Jan. 1, 1966 BEPC (1) Bac (1) diploma (1) (2)_($) 67 1.0 0.4 0.2 72 1.6 0.7 0.4 116 2.3 0.4 0.2 133 14.0 3.7 1.5 151 19.0 16.5 7.7 109 4.1 1.5 1.0 107 6.7 2.8 1.4 148 12.1 8.0 5.2 98 10.8 6.1 7.5 110 6.4 3.0 : 1.9 122 ■> 1 6.3 11 1^ . 13.3 p= .1 9,859 23,854 14,811 16,149 26,887 45,851 .•-1 35,000 46,000 92,000 '■'Ua>fe in«ii i /i/*/.- /_' 1^ -l>.. I J, UC Jy . Farm workers Farmers Manual workers Clerical and commercial Junior executives Craftsmen Small shopkeepers Big commercial employers Industrialists All industrial and commercial entrepreneurs Professions Senior executives 10.2 27.6 4.8 11.8 14.0 23.6 38.2 2.3 5.2 2.9 6.0 8.1 20.7 18.9 3.2 6.6 8.5 33.1 39.0 40.8 50.3 66.3 Sources: (1) INSEE, Censuses; (2) H. Roze, 'Prestations sociales, impot direct et echelle des revenus', Economic et Statistique, February 1971; (3) P. L'Hardy, 'Les disparites du patrimoine', Economic et Statistique, February 1973; (4) G. Banderier, 'Les revenus des menages en 1965, 595 29.8 9.2 1.5 96.7 95.9 1.4 1.8 6.9 10.9 78.5 3-7 23.8 23.5 16.4 9-9 66.7 279 4.6 0.8 98.0 97.5 0.8 0.8 69.6 23.2 5.4 1.8 95.9 95.9 2.6 2.1 73.1 18.5 6.8 1.8 91.6 94.4 4.9 2.1 — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 7.1 6.4 79.2 7-3 12.9 16.4 7.0 6.7 56.5 9.6 28.9 5.0 71.8 73-0 9.4 6.0 Collections tk t'INSEE, M 7, December 1970; (5) P. L'Hardy, 'Structure de l'epargne et du patrimoine des menages en 1966/ Collections de I'INSEE, M 13, March 1972. 140 I The Economy of Practices | 5 00 u"\ so r- .5 c 0\ ^ ^ rq cf\ Q\ (Ti cCi fN CS V3 V3 r-i Cs -fl" iri CO. r-i fN 1^ GS rC\ f*. H IN iA -fl* . s£> 00 O d ^ h I I V Cfl t?v ffl m so so d v\ o Cs m O O O so G\ Cs i I, which they are closely identified, both objectively (they constitut.- ,1;, important part of these people's social identity) and subjectively. Bur 11 _s concern to preserve self-esteem, which encoutages attachment to the nominal value of qualifications and jobs, would not be sufficici r maintain a misperception of this devaluation, if there were not also some complicity from objective mechanisms. The most important of the^.. i.t first, the hysteresis of habitus, which causes previously appropriate categories of perception and appreciation to be applied to a new state of the qualification market; and, second, the existence of relatively autonomous markets in which the value of qualifications declines at a slower rate. The hysteresis effect is proportionately greater for agents who are more remote from the educational system and who are poorly or only vaguely informed about the market in educational qualifications. One of the most valuable sorts of information constituting inherited cultural capital is practical ot theoretical knowledge of the fluctuations of the market in academic qualifications, the sense of investment which enables one to get , the best return on inherited cultural capital in the scholastic market or on scholastic capital in the labour market, for example, by knowing the right moment to pull out of devalued disciplines and careers and to switch into those with a future, rather than clinging to the scholastic values which secured the highest profits in an earlier state of the market. By contrast, the hysteresis effect means that the holders of devalued di- :. plomas become, in a sense, accomplices in their own mystification, since, by a typical effect of allodoxia ('misapprehension'), they bestow a value on their devalued diplomas which is not objectively acknowledged. This . explains how those least informed about the diploma market, who have long been able to recognize a decline in real wages behind the maintenance of nominal wages, can nonetheless continue to accept and seek the paper certificates which they receive in payment for their years of schooling (despite the fact that they are the first victims of diploma devaluation, because of their lack of social capital). This attachment to an anachronistic idea of the value of qualifications The Social Space and Its Transformations / 143 _ doubt plays a parr in the existence of markets in which diplomas can (apparently, at least) escape devaluation. The value objectively and subjectively placed on an academic qualification is in fact defined only by the ■ totality of the social uses that can be made of it. Thus the evaluation of diplomas by the closest peer groups, such as relatives, neighbours, fellow -students (one's 'class' or 'year') and colleagues, can play an important role in masking the effects of devaluation. These phenomena of individual and collective misrecognition are in no way illusory, since they can orient real practices, especially the individual and collective strategies aimed at establishing or re-establishing the objective reality of rhe value of the qualification or position; and these strategies can make a real contribution toward actual revaluation. In the transactions in which the market value of academic qualifica-: tions is defined, the strength of the vendors of labour power depends— setting aside their social capital—on the value of their diplomas, especially when the relationship between qualifications and jobs is strictly codified (as is the case with established positions, as opposed to new ones). So it is clear that the devaluation of academic diplomas is of direct advantage to the suppliers of jobs, and that, while the interests of qualification-holders are bound up with the nominal value of qualifications, i.e., with what they guaranteed by right in the earlier situation, the interests of job suppliers are bound up with the real value of qualifications, in other words, the value that is determined at the moment in question in the competition among the candidates. (This is a structural de-skilling [de'qualification] which aggravates the effects of the de-skilling strategies that firms have been using for a long time.) The greatest losers in this struggle are those whose diplomas have least relative value in the hierarchy of diplomas and are most devalued. In some cases the qualification-holder finds he has no other way to defend the value of his qualification than to refuse to sell his labour power at the price offered; the decision to remain unemployed is then equivalent to a one-man strike.213 the cheating of a generation In a period of 'diploma inflation' the disparity between the aspirations that the educational system produces and the opportunities it really offers is a structural reality which affects all the members of a school generation, but to a varying extent depending on the rarity of their qualifications and on their social origins. Newcomers to secondary education are led, by the mere fact of having access to it, to expect it to give them what it gave others at a time when they themselves were still excluded from it. In an earlier period and for other classes, these aspirations were perfectly realistic, since they corresponded to objective probabilities, but they are often quickly deflated by the verdicts of the scholastic market or the labour market. One of the paradoxes of what is called the 'democratization of schooling' is that only when the working classes, who had previously ignored or at best vaguely 144 / The Economy of Practices concurred in the Third Republic ideology of 'schooling as a liberating force' (I'ecole liberatrice), acrually entered secondary education, did i| discover I'ecole conservatrice, schooling as a conservative force, by being relegated to second-class courses or eliminared. The collective disillusion, ment which results from the structural mismatch berween aspirations and real probabilities, between the social identity the school system - >,. to promise, or the one it offers on a temporary basis, and the social identity that the labour market in fact offers is the source of the disaff-: ,,,, towards work, that refusal of social fnitude, which generates all the refusals and negations of the adolescent countet-culture. This discordance—and the disenchantment it engenders—takes forms rhat are objectively and subjectively different in the various social classes Thus, for working-class youngsters, the transit through secondary schooling and through the ambiguous status of a 'student', temporarily freed from the demands of the world of work, produces misfirings of the dialectic of aspirations and probabilities which led their predecessors to accept their social destiny, almost always unquestioningly, and sometimes with positive eagerness (like the miners' sons who used to identify their entry into manhood with their first descent into the mine). The disenchantment with their work that is felt and expressed particularly acutelv by the most obvious victims of downclassing, such as baccalan holders obliged to take jobs as factory workers or postmen, is, in a wav. common to a whole generation. It finds expression in unusual forms of struggle, protest and escapism that the organizations traditionally involved in industrial or political struggle find hard to understand, because something more than working conditions is at stake. These youn^ pie, whose social identity and self-image have been undermined b; cial system and an educational system that have fobbed them off < & worthless paper, can find no other way of restoring their personal anil -cial integrity than by a total refusal. It is as if they felt that whar ^ ■ stake is no longer just personal failure, as the educational system encourages them to believe, but rather the whole logic of the academic in II tion. The structural de-skilling of a whole generation, who are bourv get less out of their qualifications than the previous generation would have obtained, engenders a sort of collective disillusionment: a whole generation, finding it has been taken for a ride, is inclined to ext< i1 ■ > all institutions the mixture of revolt and resentment it feels toward1. 1 r educational system. This anti-institutional cast of mind (which dv>"j strength from ideological and scientific critiques) points towards a denunciation of the tacit assumptions of the social order, a practical sr-ptn sion of doxic adherence to the prizes it offers and the values it professes, and a withholding of the investments which are a necessary condition ct its functioning. So it is understandable that, not only within families but also in educational institutions and political or union organizations, and abo'.c H 146 / The Economy of Practices Disenchanted 'First I did market research surveys. I had a friend in L. who was into that. I got a list of all the research firms in Paris. After two months phoning and writing, finally I got something. Then, several months later, they still hadn't got in touch with me. They weren't doing any more surveys. I was entitled to unemployment benefit, a thousand francs a month. We lived on that for seven months, then we did two months' grape-picking. Then 1 went back to surveys for seven months, working free-lance. Then I quit; the place was full of lesbians and they gave out the work to their favourites, so I got out. Anyway, we each work a bit in turns. In this sort of society, work isn't the main thing in life. Now, if things were run the way they are in China, I might want to work ten hours a day' (F., age 24, baccalauréat and a few months in an Atts faculty; father: privare means). 'Once you've flunked your bac, you're already in the shit. There are no possible careers and the jobs you can find are completely useless. 'All the jobs I did were boring, so I saved up some money so I could stop working for a few months. Anyway, I prefer to stop once in a while so I don't get into a rut. 'After I failed the bac, I spent the summer working as a moniror in a vacation camp. Then I gor a job with a newspaper in Dreux. I was a trainee sub-editor but after two months it was time to take out my union card so I went free-lance. But I didn't seem to fit in. Everything I wrote, they went through with a fine-tooth comb. I did photos, too. But there was a power struggle in the paper. I couldn't be bothered to I fight. After six months, they 3 stopped giving me work, so I left I ■ got taken in by the "public service" :S myth and I signed on at the Post Office. I was on sorting for three weeks. I couldn't take any more. It K was a work environment I'd never known before. It wasn't so much the people that got up my nose as the relations between them, the taic-telling. There was no solidarity. After three weeks I chucked it in. There were five of us auxiliaries, oni was fired on the spot for taking fif- £ teen minutes' extra break, so we all ; walked out. The worst of it is that £ you flunk your exams, you hated school, and you end up being treated as an intellectual. 'Next I got a job through the employment agency, as a cletk in at: office dealing with wholesale beef. There was a row about a bonus thai j: wasn't given to everyone. There was a slanging-march and I got out. I'd been there two and a half months. j In September I picked grapes and then I went back ro the employ- j ment agency. I was a courier on a-:, i scooter for six months. That was the craziest thing I've ever done. It's a ghastly job, you get com- j pletely paranoid on your scooter, imagining they're all trying to run > you down. I chucked it in, I . s couldn't take any more. 'After two months on the dole, 1; got a tempotary job, jusr for the holiday period, on the railways. I was on electronic reservarions, "op-, erator" they called it, or something; like that, and I stayed fot four The Social Space and Its Transformations / 147 months. I left because I wanted to jive in the country, and that's how I ended up here' (G., age 21, failed baccalauréat; father: policeman; mother: charwoman). Extracts from C. Mathey, L'entree dans la vie active, Cahiers du Centre d'etudes de l'emploi, 15 (Paris, PUF, 1977), 479-658 passim (interviews with 50 unemployed young people). in the work situation, whenever old-style autodidacts, who started out thirty years earlier with a certificat d'etudes (CEP) or a BEPC and boundless respect for culture, come into contact with young bacheliers or new-style autodidacts, who bring their anti-institutional stance with them into the institution, the clash of generations often takes the form of a showdown over the very foundations of the social order. More radical, less self-confident than the usual form of political contestation, and reminiscent of the mood of the first Romantic generation, this disenchanted 1 temperament attacks the fundamental dogmas of the petit-bourgeois order—'career', 'status', 'promotion' and 'getting on.' the struggle to kkep up The specific contradiction of the scholastic mode of reproduction lies in the opposition between the interests of the class which the educational system serves statistically and the interests of : those class members whom it sacrifices, that is, the 'failures' who are threatened with déclassement for lack of the qualifications formally required of rightful members. Nor should one forget those holders of qualifications which 'normally'—i.e., in an earlier state of the relationship : between diplomas and jobs—gave access to a bourgeois occupation, who, . because they do not originate from that class, lack the social capital to extract the full yield from their academic qualifications. The overproduction of qualifications, and the consequent devaluation, tend to become a structural constant when theoretically equal chances of obtaining qualifications are offered to all the offspring of the bourgeoisie (regardless of birth rank or sex) while the access of other classes to these qualifications ; :also increases (in absolute terms). The strategies which one group may .- employ to try to escape downclassing and to return to their class trajec-<:. tory, and those which another group employs to rebuild the interrupted path of a hoped-for trajectory, are now one of the most important factors in the transformation of social structures. The individual substitution strategies which enable the holders of a social capital of inherited 'connections' to make up for their lack of formal qualifications or to get the maximum return from those they have, by moving into relatively un-bureaucratized areas of social space (where social dispositions count for more than academically guaranteed 'competences'), are combined with - collective srrategies aimed at asserting the value of formal qualifications and obtaining the rewards they secured in an earlier state of the market. 148 / The Economy of Practices fib The Social Space and Its Transformations / 149 Whereas in 1962 only 1.5 percent of semi-skilled workers aged 15-24 had the BEPC, and 0.2 percent rhe baccalauréat or a higher diploma, in 1975 the corresponding percentages were 8.2 and 1.0. Among white-collar workers, where by 1962 even in the oldest age-group there was a relatively high percenrage of diploma-holders, the proportion of rhe very highly qualified rose faster among the young, so that by 1975 a larger proportion of rhem had higher qualifications than did the older workers (in 1962, 25.0 percent of office workers aged 15-24 had rhe BEPC, 2.0 percent the baccalauréat, and 0.2 percent a higher education degree, compared with 38.0 percent, 8.0 percent and 1.0 percent in 1975; the corresponding figures in 1975 for older staff members were 16.1 percent, 3.3 percent and 1.4 percent). In addition to all the changes in the relations between colleagues of different generations that are implied in these statistics, one has to bear in mind the changed relation to work which results from putting, agents with higher qualifications into jobs that are often de-skilled (by automation and all the forms of job mechanization which have turned white-collar staff into the production-line workers of the great bureaucracies). There is every reason ro rhink that the opposition between the somewhat strict and even stuffy rigour of the older staff and the casual style of the younger workers, which is doubrless perceived as sloppiness, especially when it includes long hair and a beard (the traditional emblems of the bohemian artist or intellectual), expresses rarher more than a simple generation gap. 150 I The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 151 The combined effect is to encourage the creation of a large number of semi-bourgeois positions, produced by redefining old positions or ii \ -j,. ing new ones, and designed to save unqualified 'inheritors' from r. i.,. classing and to provide parvenus with an approximate pay-off for their devalued qualifications. The strategies agents use to avoid the devaluation of their diplomas are grounded in the discrepancy between opportunities objectively available at any given moment and aspirations based on an earlier structure . > t,|, jective opportunities. This discrepancy, which is particularly acute at certain moments and in cerrain social positions, generally reflects a failui ,i, achieve the individual or collective occupational trajectory which v..; ir scribed as an objective potentiality in the former position and in th u jectory leading to it. When this 'broken trajectory' effect occurs—for example, in the case of a man whose father and grandfather werepolytecb-niciens and who becomes a sales engineer or a psychologist, or in the case of a law graduate who, for lack of social capital, becomes a comn i n i. cultural worker—the agent's aspirations, flying on above his real trajectory like a projectile carried on by its own inertia, describe an ideal Trajectory that is no less real, or is at any rate in no way imaginary in the ordinary sense of the word. This impossible objective potentiality, in; scribed at the deepest level of their dispositions as a sort of blighted hope or frustrated promise, is the common factor, behind all their differences, between those sons and daughters of the bourgeoisie to whom the educational system has not given the means of pursuing the trajectory most likely for their class and those sons and daughters of the middle and working classes who have not obtained the rewards which their academic qualifications would have guaranteed in an earlier state of the market —two categories who are particularly likely to try to move into the new positions. Agents who seek to avoid downclassing can either produce new occupations more closely matching their pretensions (which were socially justified in an earlier state of telations between qualifications and jobs) or can refurbish the occupations to which their qualifications do give access; redefining and upgrading them in accordance with their pretensions. When agents start to arrive in a job who possess qualifications different from those of the usual occupants, they bring hitherto unknown aptitudes, dispositions and demands with them into their relation with that job, in terms of both its technical and social definition; and this necessarily causes changes in the job itself. Among the most visible changes observed when the newcomers have high qualifications are an intensified division of labour, with autonomous status being given to some of the tasks previously performed, in principle or in practice, by less qualified jacks-of-all-trades (e.g., the diversification of the education and social welfare fields); and, often, a redefinition of careers, related to the emergence of expectations and demands that are new in both form and content. To make clear the break with the realist, static model implied in certain traditions of the sociology of work, ir has to be emphasized that the post cannot be reduced either to the theoretical post, i.e., as described in regulations, circulars or organization charts, or to the real post, i.e., as described on the basis of observation of the occupant's real function, or even to the relationship between the two. In fact, posts, as regards both their theoretical definition and their practical reality, are the site of petmanent struggles, in which position-holders may clash with their superiors or their subordinates, or with the occupants of neighbouring and rival positions, or amongst themselves (old-timers and newcomers, graduates and non-graduates and so on). Those aspiring to or holding a position may have an interest in redefining it in such a way that it cannot be occupied by anyone othet than the possessors of properties identical to their own. (Consider rhe struggles between graduates of ENA and Polytechnique or, in the middle classes, between different generations of nurses.) There is every reason to suppose that the job redefinition resulting from a change in the scholastic properties of the occupants—and all their associated properties—is likely to be more or less extensive depending on the elasticity of the technical and social definition of the position (which is probably grearer at higher levels in the hierarchy of positions) and on the social origin of the new occupants, since the higher their origin, the : less inclined they will be to accept the limited ambitions of petit-bourgeois agents looking for modest, predictable progress over a lifetime. These factors are probably not independent. Whether led by their sense of a good investment and their awareness of the opportunities awaiting their capital, or by the refusal to demean themselves by entering one of the established occupations whose elementary definition makes them invidious, those sons and daughters of the bourgeoisie who are threatened with downclassing tend to move, if they possibly can, into the most indeterminate of the older professions and into the sectors where the new professions are under construction. This 'creative redefinition' is therefore found particularly in the most ill-defined and professionally unstructured occupations and in the newest sectors of cultural and artistic production, such as the big public and private enterprises engaged in cultural production (radio, TV, marketing, advertising, social science research and so on), where jobs and careers have not yet acquired the rigidity of the older bureaucratic professions and recruitment is generally done by co-option, rhat is, on the basis of 'connections' and affinities of habitus, rather than formal qualifications. This means that the sons and daughters of rhe Paris bourgeoisie, rather than directly entering a well-defined and lifelong profession (e.g., teaching), are more likely to enter and to succeed in positions, halfway between studenthood and a profession, that are offered by the big cultural bureaucracies, occupations for which the specific qualifications (e.g., a diploma in photography or filmmaking, or a sociology or psychology 152 / The Economy of Practices degree) are a genuine ticket of entry only for those who are able to supply ment the official qualifications with the real—social—qualifications.2' The relarive weight of the differenr caregories involved in the cultural pro-duction sysrem has radically changed in the last two decades. The new categories of wage-earning producers created by the development of radio and television and the public and privare research bodies (especially in the social sciences) have considerably expanded, as has the teaching profession, esp<-cially in its lower strata, whereas the artistic and legal professions, that is intellectual craftsmanship, have declined. These changes, together wirh m .. ways of organizing intellectual life (research committees, brain trusts, think tanks etc.) and new institutionalized modes of communication (conferences, debates, etc.) tend to encourage the emergence of inrellectual producers more directly subordinated to economic and political demands, bringing new modes of thought and expression, new themes and new ways: of conceiving intellectual work and the role of the intellectual. The main effect of these developments—together with the considerable growth in the student population, placed in the position of apprentice intellectuals, and the emergence of a whole set of semi-intellectual occupations—may well be to have provided 'inrellectual production' with something once reserved for 'bourgeois art', namely, an audience sufficiently large to justify the existence of specific agencies for production and distriburion, and rhe appearance, on the edges of the university field and intellectual field, of a sort of superior popularization—of which the nouveauxphilosophes are an exrreme case."8 But the site par excellence of this type of transformation is to be found in the group of occupations whose common factor is that they ensure a maximum return on the cultural capital most directly transmitted by the family: good manners, good taste or physical charm. This group includes the aesthetic and semi-aesthetic, intellectual and semi-intellectual occupations, the various consultancy services (psychology, vocational guidance, speech therapy, beauty advice, marriage counselling, diet advice and so on), the educational and para-educational occupations (youth leaders, runners of day-care centres, cultural programme organizers) and jobs involving presentation and representation (tour organizers, hostesses, ciceroni, couriers, radio and TV announcers, news anchormen and quiz show hosts, press attaches, public relations people and so on). Public and, especially, privare bureaucracies are now obliged to perform rep-resenrational and 'hosring' funcrions which are very differenr in both scale and style from those traditionally entrusted to men (diplomats, ministerial attaches and so on) often drawn from those fractions of rhe dominant class (the aristocracy and the old bourgeoisie) who were richest in social capital and in the socializing techniques essential to the maintenance of that capital. The new requirements have led to the emergence of a whole ser of female occupations and to the establishment of a legitimate marker in physical properties. The fact that certain women derive occupational profit from The Social Space and Its Transformations / 153 their charm(s), and that beauty thus acquires a value on the labour marker, has doubtless helped ro produce not only a number of changes in the norms of clothing and cosmetics, but also a whole set of changes in ethics and a redefinition of the legitimate image of femininity. Women's magazines and all the acknowledged authorities on the body and the legitimate ways to use it transmit the image of womanhood incarnated by those professional manipulators of bureaucratic charm, who are rationally selected and trained, in accordance with a strictly programmed career-strucrure (with specialized schools, beauty contests and so on), to fulfil the most traditional feminine functions in conformity with bureaucratic norms. The most indeterminate sectors of the social structure offer the most j favourable ground for rhe operations which, by transforming old posi- i rions or 'crearing' new ones ex nihilo, aim to produce areas of specialist f- expertise, particularly in the field of 'consultancy', the performance of [ which requires no more than a rationalized form of competence in a class I culture. The constitution of a socially recognized corps of experts specializing in advice on sexuality, which is now coming about through the gradual professionalization of voluntary, philanthropic or political associations, is the paradigmatic form of the process whereby agents tend, with that deep conviction of disinterestedness which is the basis of all missionary zeal, to satisfy their group interests by deploying the legitimate culture with which they have been endowed by the education sys-j tern to win the acquiescence of the classes excluded from legitimate culture, in producing the need for and the rarity of their class culrure. From marriage counsellors to the vendors of slimming aids, all those who now make a profession of supplying the means of bridging the gap between 'is' and 'ought' in the realm of the body and its uses would be nothing without the unconscious collusion of all those who contribute to producing an inexhaustible market for the products they offer, who by imposing new uses of the body and a new bodily hexis—the hexis which the new bourgeoisie of the sauna bath, the gymnasium and the ski slope has discovered for irself—produce the corresponding needs, expectations and dissatisfactions. Doctors and diet experts armed with the authority of science, who impose their definition of normality with height-weight tables, balanced diets or models of sexual adequacy; couturiers who confer the sanction of good taste on the unattainable measurements of fashion models; advertisers for whom the new obligatory uses of the body provide scope for countless warnings and reminders ('Watch your weight!' 'Someone isn't using . . .'); journalists who exhibit and glorify rheir own life-style in women's weeklies and magazines for well-heeled execurives—all combine, in the competition between them, to advance a cause which they can serve so well only because they are not always aware of serving ir or even of serving themselves in the process. And the emergence of this new petite bourgeoisie, which employs new means of manipulation to perform its role as an intermediary between the classes and which by its very existence brings about a transformation 154 I The Economy of Practices of the position and dispositions of the old petite bourgeoisie, can itself be_ understood only in terms of changes in the mode of domination, which, substituting seduction for repression, public relations for policing, advcr- " tising for authority, the velvet glove for the iron fist, pursues the symbolic integration of the dominated classes by imposing needs rather n i. inculcating norms. changes in the educational system Clearly it would be naive to see a merely mechanical process of inflation and devaluation at work. The massive increase in the school population has caused a whole set of irnn formations, both inside and outside the educational system, modifying its organizations and operation partly through morphological transformations at all its levels but also through defensive manoeuvres by its traditional users, such as the multiplication of subtly ranked paths through it and skilfully disguised 'dumping grounds' which help to blur percep-: tion of its hierarchies. For the sake of clarity, one may contrast two states of the secondary school system. In the older state, the organizarion of the institution, the pathways it offered, the courses it taught and the qualifi-. cations it awarded were all based on sharp divisions, clear-cut boundaries; the primary /secondary division produced systematic differences in all dimensions of the culture taught, the teaching methods used and the; careers promised. (It is significant that the division has been maintained or even strengthened at the points where access to the dominant class is now decided—that is, at the point of streaming for the baccalauréat, and in higher education, with the division between the grandes écoles and the rest.) In the present state of the system, the exclusion of the great mass of working-class and middle-class children rakes place not at the end of primary schooling but steadily and impalpably, all through the early years of secondary schooling, through hidden forms of elimination such as repeated years (equivalent to a deferred elimination); relegation into second-class courses, entailing a stigma that tends to induce proleptic recognition of scholastic and social destiny; and finally, the awarding of devalued certificates. (It is remarkable that just when the division into two streams—strictly speaking, there were always three, with 'higher primary" education and the whole set of internal training courses and competitions offered by all the major government departments—was tending to disappear and to be teconstituted at another level, Christian Baudeloi and Roger Esrablet discovered this dichotomy, which no one would have thought of denying since it was the clearest manifestation of the scholas-. tic mechanisms of reproduction.)" Whereas the old system with its strongly marked boundaries led to the internalizing of scholastic divisions clearly corresponding to social divisions, the new system with its fuzzy classifications and blurred edges encourages and entertains (at least among the new 'intermediaries' in social space) aspirations that are themselves blurred and fuzzy. Aspiration levels are now adjusted to scholastic hurdles and standards in a less strict and I The Social Space and Its Transformations / 155 t 3IS0 a less harsh manner than under the old system, which was character- i ized by the remorseless rigour of the national competitive examination. > li is true that the new system fobs off a good number of its users with devalued qualifications, playing on the faulty perceptions that are encouraged by the anarchic profusion of courses and diplomas which are difficult ro compare and yet subtly ranked in prestige. However, it does 1 not force them into such abrupt disinvestment as the old system: the { blurring of hierarchies and boundaries between the elected and the re- | jected, between true and false qualifications, plays a part in 'cooling out' f and in calm acquiescence in being cooled out. The new system favours j the development of a less realistic, less resigned relationship to the future I than the old sense of proper limits, which was rhe basis of an acute sense j of hierarchy. The allodoxia which the new system encourages in innu- ! merable ways is rhe reason why relegated agents collaborate in their own 1 relegation by overestimating the studies on which they embark, over- | .:'•: : valuing their qualifications, and banking on possible futures which do not really exist for them; but it is also the reason why they do not truly ! accept the objective reality of their position and qualifications. And the ! : : reason for the attracriveness of the new or renewable positions lies in the fact that, being vague and ill-defined, uncertainly located in social space, often offering (like the occupations of'artist' or 'intellectual' in the past) none of the material or symbolic criteria—promotion, benefits, increments—whereby social time, and also social hierarchies, are experienced and measured, they leave aspirations considerable room for manoeuvre. They thus make it possible to avoid the sudden, final disinvestment imposed by occupations that are clearly delimited and defined from recruitment to retirement. The indeterminate future which they offer, a privilege hitherto reserved for artists and intellectuals, makes it possible to treat the present as a sort of endlessly renewed provisional status and (o regard one's 'sration' as an accidental detour, like the paintet who works in advertising but continues to consider himself a 'true' artist and insists that this mercenary trade is only a temporary expedient that will be abandoned as soon as he has put by enough money to be independent. These ambiguous occupations exempt their pracritioners from rhe work of disinvestment and reinvestment that is implied, for example, in switching from a 'vocation' as a philosopher to a 'vocation' as a philosophy teacher, or from artist to publicity designer or art teacher—or ar . least allow them to defer their transfer indefinitely. It is not surprising that such people should be drawn to schemes of 'continuing education' (education permanente), a perpetual studenthood which offers an open, unlimited furure and contrasts diametrically wirh the system of national competitions designed to demonstrate, once and for all, and as early as possible, that what is done cannot be undone.31 Again, it is understandable that, like artists, they should so readily embrace the aesthetic and ethical modes and models of youth: it is a way of showing to oneself and others that one is not finite, finished, defined. In 156 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Us Transformations /157 place of abrupt, all-or-nothing breaks, between study and work, bet" , | work and retirement, there is an impalpable, infinitesimal slippage ( ,M j sider all the temporary or semi-permanent occupations, often take , j students approaching the end of their course, which cluster around thi t established positions in scientific research or higher education or, a another level, consider the phased retirement now offered by the mi . 'advanced' firms). Everything rakes place as if the new logic of the r-du cational system and economic system encouraged people ro defer for a long as possible the moment of ultimate crystallization toward which al the infinitesimal changes point, in other words, the final balance-sha-, which sometimes takes the form of a 'personal crisis'. It goes without saying that the adjustment between objective chance, and subjective aspirations that is thereby established is both more subtl< and mote subtly extorted, but also more risky and unstable. Maintaining vagueness in the images of the present and future of one's position is a way of accepting limits, but it is also a way to avoid acknowledging rhem, or to put it another way, a way of refusing them. But it is a refusa' in bad faith, the product of an ambiguous cult of revolution whicl '• springs from resentment at the disappointment of unrealistic expectations. Whereas the old system tended to produce clearly demarcated social identities which left little room for social fantasy but were comfortable and reassuring even in the unconditional renunciation which they demanded, the new system of structural instability in the representation of social identity and its legitimate aspirarions rends to shift agents from rhe terrain of social crisis and critique to the terrain of personal critique and crisis. competitive struggles and displacement of the structure It can be seen how naive it is to claim to settle the question of 'social change' by locating 'newness' or 'innovation' in a particular site in social space. For some, this site is at the top; for others, ar rhe botrom; and it is always elsewhere, in all the 'new', 'marginal', 'excluded' or 'dropped-out' groups, for all those sociologists whose chief concern is to bring 'newness' into the discussion at all costs. But to characterize a class as 'conservative' or 'innovating' (without even specifying in what respect it is so), by tacit recourse to an ethical standard which is necessarily situated socially, produces a discourse which states little more than the site it comes from, because it sweeps aside what is essential, namely, the field of struggles, the system of objective relations within which positions and postures are defined relationally and which governs even those struggles aimed at transforming it. Only by reference to the space in the game which defines them and which they seek to maintain or redefine, can one understand the strategies, individual or collective, spontaneous or organized, which are aimed at conserving, transforming or transforming so as to conserve. Reconversion strategies are nothing other than an aspect of the permanent actions and reactions whereby each group strives to maintain or change its position in the social structure, or, more precisely—ar a stage jn the evolution of class societies in which one can conserve only by changing—to change so as to conserve. Frequently the actions whereby each class (or class fraction) works ro win new advantages, i.e., to gain an advantage over the other classes and so, objectively, to reshape the structure of objective relations between the classes (the relations revealed by rhe statistical distributions of properties), are compensated for (and so cancelled out ordinally) by the reactions of rhe other classes, directed toward the same objective. In this particular (though very common) case, the outcome of these opposing actions, which cancel each other out by the very countermovements which they generare, is an overall displacement of the structure of che disrnbution, berween the classes or class fractions, of the assets at stake in the-competition (as has happened in the case of the chances of university entrance—see table 15 and figure 7). Table 15 shows the relarionship between morphological change in the different classes and class fractions and rhe extent to which the members of these classes and class fractions make use of the educational system. The volume of the groups whose social reproduction was based, at the beginning of the period, on economic inheritance tends to decline or remain stationary, while, over the same period, their children—who will, to a large extent, join the wage-earning categories at the same level of the social hierarchy—make increasing use of the educational system. Those class fractions which are expanding, which are mainly rich in culrural capital and which used the educational system as their main means of reproduction (junior and senior executives, clerical workers) tend to increase rheir children's schooling in much the same proportion as the self-employed categories occupying an equivalenr posirion in the class structure. The reversal of rhe relative positions of the commercial employers and clerical workers, and also of the farm workers and industrial manual workers, is explained both by the intensified schooling that is forced on the numerically declining categories (commercial employers, farm workers) and by the rise in the overall statistical characteristics of these categories (seen, for example, in their educational qualifications), resulting from change in their internal structure— towards less dispersion—and, more precisely, from the fact that their lower strata have been parricularly hard hir and have disappeared or reconverted. The schooling rates shown in the graph are probably overestimates, since the statistics only take account of young people living at home, more especially, no doubt, at lower levels of the social hierarchy. The slight narrowing of the range which is apparent in the most recent period is due partly to a saturation effect in the highest categories and partly to the fact that the statistics ignore the distribution of adolescents from different classes between academic courses that are themselves strongly ranked. Between 1968 and 1977, the proportion of industrial workers' children (who made up to 40.7 percent of the 17-year-old age groups in 1977) in the fifth grade of 158 / The Economy of Practica -D c 0 o « due CO I to sD c r-1 > 0 ß °> 3 .is > 2.8 6(J o 6 —2 t> o if] m ^ fO fN 'O (n n n h- vq Ö rt^ h (N c\ d oo CO (N SO g s o . ° „ *3 o B * S31 S 3 G S e 3 6 = t2£2J= a u c u o ,2 2,* S -2 = §55 s? if c 0\ ^ o ^ s c » 3 (£ £ ~ u & CAT) JS C (J O 3 B w U3 .5 is a k 2 o 1 ^ T&> i'oc/a/ 5^?« Its Transformations / 159 Figure 7 Displacement of schooling rates of 16- to 18-year-olds, 1954-1975. .-♦ senior executives, 92 professions junior executives 79 63 1 jt employers sf,'' 62 commercial employees manual workers -'45 jt farm workers ■"38 (The dotted lines indicate the schooling rates of 18-year-olds between 1968 and 1975.) 1954 1962 1968 1975 Sources: INSEE, Censuses 19H 1962, 1968, 1975; INSEE, Donnees sociales, 1973, p. 105; P. Boutdieu and J.C. Passeton, The Inheritors (Chicago and London, University of Chicago Press, 1979), p. 4; Bourdieu and Passeton, Reproduction (London and Beverly Hills, Saee Publications' 1977), p. 225. 160 / The Economy of Practica The Social Space and Its Transformattons / 161 state secondary schooling remained constant (25.7 percent and 25.9 percent respectively), whereas the proportion of senior executives' and professionals' children rose from 15.4 percent to 16.8 percent. Moreover, in 1977, in this grade, 57.6 percent of the senior executives' and professionals' children were in section C (scientific), compared ro 20.6 percenr of rhe farm workers' children and 23.5 percent of the industrial workers' children. Conversely, only 9.8 percent of the senior executives' and professionals' children were in a 'technical' section, as against 24.6 percent of the farm workers' children and 28.7 percenr of the industrial workers' children. Similar tendencies are found in higher education, where students of working-class origin are increasingly relegated to the arts and science faculties or to shore technical courses, whereas the upper-class srudenrs rend ro be in rhe grandes ecolcs, the medical faculties or, if academically less successful, in the minor business schools. In the case of the social sciences, scientific discourse cannor ignore the conditions of its own reception. This depends ar all times on the state of the prevailing social problemaric, which is itself at least partly defined by the reactions to an earlier form of that discourse. Those who oversimplify the arguments of my earlier works, The Inheritors and Reproduction—which subsequent research has shown to err on the side of simplification—share with those who criticize them without understanding them a taste for simple truths and an inability to think relationally. Ideological stubbornness is not a sufficient explanation for naiveties such as that of referring to a 'rise in middle-class recruitment' ro universities between 1950 and I960 and concluding that the bourgeois university had been transformed into one 'dominated by the middle classes'.32 One only has to look at the position of the faculties—especially those of arts and science—in the hierarchy of higher-education institutions by social origin of rheir students to know what to think of such a statistical analysis (highly praised by Alain Peyrefiue, who regrets that it has not had the success it deserves, thereby giving further proof of his great knowledge of univetsity matters),33 These faculties, which are situated at the lowest point of a field naturally dominated by the grandes ecoles—and now even lower, to judge from the economic and social value of their diplomas, rhan rhe least presrigious and most recent of rhe business schools that have proliferated in recent years—have all the characteristics of dumping grounds, not least their level of 'democratization' (and feminization). It is as if rhe 'democratization' of secondary education were to be measured in a Technical high school in an indusrrial suburb. Nor could anyone speak of a 'middle-class-dominated' universiry unless he had, consciously or unconsciously, confused rhe level of representation of the middle classes in the faculty-student population with the chances of faculty entrance for the middle classes—in other words, confused change in rhe social composition of the faculties with change in the structure of probabilities of schooling, a structure which has been shifted upwards without real transformation. A similar process of homothetic development seems to take place whenever the strengths and efforts of the groups competing for a given type of asset or entitlement tend to balance one another out, as in a race in which, after a series of bursts in which various runners forge ahead or catch up, the initial gaps are maintained; in other words, whenever the attempts of the initially most disadvantaged groups to come into possession of the assets previously possessed by groups immediately above them in the social hierarchy or immediately ahead of them in the race are more or less counterbalanced, at all levels, by the efforts of better-placed groups to maintain the scarcity and distinctiveness of their assets. One rhinks of the struggle which the sale of letters of nobility provoked among the English aristocracy in rhe second half of rhe sixteenth century, triggering a self-sustaining process of inflation and devaluation of these titles. The lowest titles, such as esquire or arms, were the first to be affected, followed by the rank of knight, which was devalued so fast that the oldest holders had to press for the creation of a new title, that of baronet. But this new title, which filled the gap between knight and peer of the realm, was seen as a threat by the holders of the higher rank, whose value depended on maintaining a certain distance.3,1 Thus the newcomers conspire to ruin the existing holders by acquiring the titles which made them rare; the surest way to devalue a title of nobility is to purchase it as a commoner. The existing holders, for their part, objectively devalue rhe newcomers either by abandoning their titles to them in order to pursue rarer ones, or by inrroducing differences among the title-holders linked to seniority in accession to the title (such as the manner of possessing it). It follows thar all the groups involved in the race, whatever rank they occupy, cannot conserve their position, their rarity, their rank except by running to keep their distance from those immediately behind them, thus jeopardizing the difference which distinguishes the group immediately in front; or, to put it another way, by aspiring ro possess that which rhe group just ahead already have, and which they themselves will have, but later. The holders of the rarest titles can also protect themselves from competition by setting up a numerus clausus. Such measures generally become necessary whenever the statistical mechanisms 'normally' protecting the group arc found to be inadequate. The laisser-faire which is maintained so long as it discreetly protects the interests of the privileged group is replaced by a conscious protectionism, which calls on institutions to do openly what seemingly neutral mechanisms did invisibly. To protect themselves against excessive numbers, the holders of rare titles and rare jobs must defend a definition of the job which is nothing other than the definition of those who occupy the position at a given state of the relationship between titles and jobs. Declaring that the doctor, the archirect or the professor of the future must be what they are today, i.e., what they themselves are, they write into the definition of the post, for all eternity, all rhe properties it derives from its small number of occupants (such as the secondary properties associared with severe selection, including high social origin), that is, the limits placed on competition and on the changes it would bring. In place of statistical boundaries, which leave groups surrounded by 162 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 163 the 'hybrid' zone of which Plato speaks apropos of the boundary of b i,, and non-being, and which challenge the discriminatory power of socjjj taxonomies (Young or old? Urban or rural? Rich or poor? 'Middle-class' or 'lower-middle'?), the numerus clausus, in the extreme form it re.-:;.-,„ from discriminatory law, sets sharp, arithmetical limits. In place ol th,. ciples of selection, of inclusion and exclusion, based on a numb; - , j fairly closely interrelated and normally implicit criteria, it sets up an institutionalized and therefore conscious and organized process of serr.v.i tion and discrimination, based on a single criterion (no women, ,| r. Jews, or no blacks) which leaves no room for misclassification. In fact the most select groups prefer to avoid the brutality of discrimii at , , measures and to combine the charms of the apparent absence of criteria which allows the members the illusion of election on grounds of personal uniqueness, with the certainties of selection, which ensures n i. . mum group homogeneity. Smart clubs preserve their homogeneity by subjecting aspirants to very strict procedures—an act of candidature, a recommendation, sometimes presentation (in the literal sense) by sponsors who have themselves been members for a cerrain number of years, election by the membership or by a special committee, payment of sometimes very high initial subscriptions (5,000 francs per person at the Cercle du Bois de Boulogne in 1973, 9,500 . francs at the Saint-Cloud Golf Club in 1975), plus the annual subscription (2,050 francs at Saint Cloud) and so on. In fact; it would be pointless to : seek to discover whether the formal rules, which aim above all to protect the group against outsiders (not so much other classes, which are excluded from the start, as other fractions of the same class, or even parvenu members of the same fraction) and which generally prove superfluous, are intended to disguise the arbitrariness of election, or whether, on the contrary, the conspicuous arbitrariness which makes election a matter of indefinable Hair is intended to disguise the official rules. 'We take you if we like the look of you (C'est a la tete du client)' said one club chairman; and another: 'There are clubs where you need two sponsors and they accept almost anyone; there are others wirh two sponsors where they're very choosy.' Besides, everything depends on the quality of the sponsors: 'Normally you have ro. wait two or rhree years; with good sponsors, you don't wait at all' (a member of the management committee, Cercle du Bois de Boulogne). Similarly, although membership is not officially hereditary, a young woman who applies to join the Cercle du Bois de Boulogne will be asked if her father or elder brother is a member. All the evidence suggests that although a number of them are officially organized around some rare, selective activity, which is often a mere pretext (golf, polo, hunting, riding, pigeon-shooting, sailing etc.), smart clubs (les dubs chics) are opposed to specialized clubs, whose members are defined by possession of a common property (for example, a yacht in the case of the Cercle de la Voile de Paris), in that they rake account of the whole social person; and the more prestigious they are, and the more concerned they are to achieve a total harmony of interests and valufS ^or examP^e' the Jockey Club, the Cercle du Bois de Boulogne or jj; Noi'veau Cercle), the more this is the case. Because the social reality of the criteria of selection can only come from oUtside, that is, from an objectification of what is refused in advance as reductive and vulgar, the group is able to persuade itself that its own assembly is based on no other principle than an indefinable sense of propriety which only membership can procure. The miracle of mutual election achieves perfection with groups of intellectuals, who are not so naive as to concede the minimal objectification required to form a club. Because they rjlace their trust in the quasi-mystical sense of participation which does indeed define the participants, the excluded outsiders (who cannot even prove the existence of the exclusive group except involuntarily, through their denunciations of it), end up tilting against windmills when they attempt to point out the invisible barriers which separate them from the elect. Intellectual groups, particularly the most prestigious ones, are extraordinarily immune to objectification. This is not only because one has to belong in order to have a practical mastery of the mechanisms of membership; it is also because one cannot objectify the intellectual game without putting at stake one's own stake in the game—a risk which is at once derisory and absolute. The dialectic of downclassing and upclassing which underlies a whole set of social processes presupposes and entails that all the groups concerned run in the same direction, toward the same objectives, the same properties, those which are designated by the leading group and which, by definition, are unavailable to the groups following, since, whatever these properties may be intrinsically, they are modified and qualified by their distinctive rarity and will no longer be what they are once they are multiplied and made available to groups lower down. Thus, by an apparent paradox, the maintenance of order, that is, of the whole set of gaps, differences, 'differentials', ranks, precedences, priorities, exclusions, distinctions, ordinal properties, and thus of the relations of order which give a social formation its structure, is provided by an unceasing change in substantial (i.e., non-relational) properties. This implies that the social order established at any given moment is also necessarily a temporal order, an 'order of successions', as Leibniz pur it, each group having as its past the group immediately below and for its future the group immediately above (one sees the attraction of evolutionist models). The competing groups are separated by differences which are essentially located in the order of time. It is no accident that credit is so important in this system. The imposition of legitimacy which occurs through the competitive struggle and is enhanced by the gentle violence of cultural missionary work tends to produce pretension, in the sense of a need which pre-exists the means of adequately satisfying. And in a social order which acknowledges that even the most deprived have the right to every satisfaction, but only in the long run, the only alternatives are credit, which allows immediate enjoy- 164 / The Economy of Practices The Social Space and Its Transformations / 165 ment of the promised goods but implies acceptance of a future whic'n ,s merely the continuation of the past, or the 'imitation'—mock h cars, mock luxury holidays and so on. But the dialectic of downclassing and upclassing is predispo; function also as an ideological mechanism, whose effects conservative"""" fe discourse strives to intensify. Especially when they compare their pi conditions with their past, the dominated groups are exposed to the 11 sion that they have only to wait in order to receive advantages which reality, they will obtain only by struggle. By situaring the difference --tween the classes in the order of successions, the competitive struggL tablishes a difference which, like that which separates ptedecessot -i ir successor in a social order governed by well-defined rules of successioi , -s not only the most absolute and unbridgeable (since there is nothnvj -,, do but wait, sometimes a whole lifetime, like the petit bourgeois w quire their own houses at the moment of retitement, sometimes sev. i generations, like the petit bourgeois who extend their own foreshoi trajectories through their children) but also the most unreal and cv: cent (since a person knows that if he can wait, he will in any case what he is promised by the ineluctable laws of evolution). In short, v\ r the competitive sttuggle makes everlasting is not different cond. but the difference between conditions. Collective and individual delay has social consequences which further complicate this process. Relatively late arrival not only reduces the duration of enjoyment; it also implies a less familiar, less 'easy' relationship to the acti\ ity or asset in question, which may have technical consequences—e.g., in the use of a car—or symbolic ones—in the case of cultural goods. It may also represent the disguised equivalent of pure and simple privation when the value of the asset or activity lies in its distinguishing power (which •. clearly linked to exclusive or priority access) rather rhan in the intrinsic : r isfactions it gives. The vendors of goods and services, who have an ini r 1 in these effects of allodoxia, exploit these lags, offering, out-of-season (e.g. in the case of holidays), or when they are out of fashion (clothes, activities), things which have their full value only at the 'right* time. Once this mechanism is understood, one perceives the futility of abstract debates which arise from the opposition of permanence and change, structure and history, reproduction and the 'production of : ciety'. The real basis of such debates is the refusal to acknowledge th:" social contradictions and struggles are not all, or always, in contradiction , • with the perpetuation of the established order; that, beyond the antitheses of 'thinking in pairs', permanence can be ensured by change and ihe structure perpetuated by movement; that the 'frustrated expectations' which are created by the time-lag between the imposition of legitimal-needs ('musts', as the marketing men put it) and access to the means i satisfying them, do not necessarily threaten the survival of the system; friat the structural gap and the corresponding frustrations are the very source of the reproduction through displacement which perpetuates the structure of positions while transforming the 'nature' of conditions. It also becomes clear that those who point to what might be called 'cardinal' properties and speak of the 'embourgeoisement' of the working class, and those who try to refute them by pointing to ordinal properties, are equally unaware that the contradictory aspects of reality which they isolate are in facr indissoluble dimensions of a single process. The reproduction of the social structure can take place in and through a competitive struggle leading to a simple displacement of the structure of distributions, so long and only so long as the members of the dominated classes enter the struggle in extended order, that is, through actions and reactions which are compounded only statistically, by the external effects which the actions of some exert on the actions of others, in the absence of any interaction or transaction, and consequently in conditions of objectivity, without collective or individual control and generally against the agents' individual and collective interests. The limiting case of these processes of statistical action is panic or rout, in which each agent helps to produce what he fears by performing actions inspired by the feared effect (as in financial panics). In all these cases, the collective action, the mere statistical sum of uncoordinared individual actions, leads to a collective result irreducible or hostile to the collective interests and even to the particular interests pursued by the individual actions. This is seen clearly when the demoralization produced by a pessimistic picture of the future of a class contributes to the decline of that class; in a numbet of :ways, the members of a declining class contribute to the collective decline, like the craftsmen who push their children through school while complaining that the educational system discourages young people from enrering the : trade. Competitive struggle is rhe form of class struggle which the dominated classes allow to be imposed on them when they accept the stakes offered by the dominant classes. It is an integrative struggle and, by virtue of the initial handicaps, a reproductive struggle, since those who enter this chase, in which they are beaten before they start, as the constancy of the gaps testifies, implicitly recognize the legitimacy of the goals pursued by those whom they pursue, by the mere fact of taking part. Having established the logic of the processes of competition (ot rout) which condemn each agent to react in isolation to the effect of the countless reactions of other agents, or, more precisely, to the result of the statistical aggregation of their isolated actions, and which reduce the class to the state of a mass dominated by its own number, one can pose 166 I The Economy of Practices Ii M The Social Space and Its Transformations / 167 168 / The Economy of Practices J the question, much debated at present among historians,35 of the cor-Ji I tions (economic crisis, economic crisis following a period of expansion '> and so on) in which the dialectic of mutually self-reproducing object \ chances and subjective aspirations may break down. Everything suggrSrs \ that an abrupt slump in objective chances relative to subjective asp..,, i tions is likely to produce a break in the tacit acceptance which the dom-i iraated classes—now abruptly excluded from the race, objectively and ■ subjectively—previously granted to the dominant goals, and so to makei possible a genuine inversion of the table of values. ; -1 T^e Habitus and tip Space of Life-Sty (es The mere fact that the social space described here can be presented as a diagram indicates that it is an abstract representation, deliberately constructed, like a map, to give a bird's-eye view, a point of view on the whole set of points from which ordinary agents (including the sociologist and his reader, in their ordinary behaviour) see the social world. Bringing together in simultaneity, in the scope of a single glance—this is its heuristic value—positions which the agents can never apprehend in their totality and in their mulriple relationships, social space is to the practical space of everyday life, with its distances which are kept or signalled, and neighbours who may be more remote rhan strangers, what geometrical space is to the 'travelling space' (espace hodologique) of ordinary experience, with its gaps and discontinuities. But the most crucial thing to note is that the question of this space is raised within the space itself—that the agents have points of view on this objective space which depend on their position within it and in which their will to transform or conserve it is often expressed. Thus many of the words which sociology uses to designate the classes it constructs are borrowed from ordinary usage, where they serve to express the (generally polemical) view that one group has of another. As if carried away by their quest for greater objectivity, sociologists almost always forget that the 'objects' they classify produce not only objectively classifiable practices but also classifying operations that are no less objective and are themselves classifiable. The division into classes performed by sociology leads to the common root of the classifiable practices which agents produce and of the classificatory judgements they make of other agents'