[My-ci] Stefano Harney: Unfinished Business, The Cultural Commodity and its Labour Process

Ned Rossiter ned at nedrossiter.org
Mon May 12 13:57:18 CEST 2008


Stefano Harney: Unfinished Business, The Cultural Commodity and its  
Labour Process
http://roundtable.kein.org/node/771

We argue that the problems of managing in the creative industries  
cannot be fully understood in the current and most common overviews  
of the industries. We review the two ways the industries are  
understood as social trends before suggesting that they are both  
insufficiently broad and encompassing. We then use the history of  
cultural studies, its origins and engagements, to extend the horizon  
of the creative industries and also to focus on where the work takes  
place in these industries. This in turn leads us to post-workerist  
thought and its conception of the cultural commodity, a conception  
with modify with cultural studies. We then return within this wider  
frame to what we regard as the central problematic for management  
with the rise of the creative industries: the location of the labour  
process that produces the cultural commodity and its value.

Overview of the Creative Industries

In what follows we are going to argue that the rise of the creative  
industries has in general been understood too narrowly. This narrow  
understanding has had implication for the way that the problems of  
management in the creative industries have been framed. To make this  
argument, we are going to draw in the first instance on cultural  
studies in Britain, and then on post-workerist thought from Italy. We  
will not be making comprehensive reviews of these bodies of thought,  
but rather selecting from them to make our point. We will conclude  
with what we regard as the implications for understanding the  
conditions of labour in the creative industries, and consequently  
with a reframing of the questions of control that Barbara Townley  
(1993) has quite rightly noted still trouble most management  
imperatives.

The method of this article will of necessity be somewhat speculative,  
and its scope broad. But where possible we will try to give examples  
of what we mean, and try to focus on how to pose problems for  
management under the expanded conditions considered here. And  
although we will be drawing on bodies of thought from outside  
management studies proper, we will also try to suggest ways in which  
management studies could engage these bodies of thought as we seek to  
augment management studies with them. We will begin with how the  
overview of the rise of the creative industries is currently described.

That description breaks into two views, views which ultimately  
complement and reinforce each other. In the first view the rise of  
creative industries is understood as an invasion of the arts not just  
by business, but specifically by management. To say that the arts  
have been invaded by business is to join a long conversation about  
the fate of art in what Walter Benjamin (1969) called the age of  
mechanical reproduction. It is to look back at least to the Frankfurt  
School, if not to Nietzsche, and to follow the conversation all the  
way to Baudrillard (1975) and Zizek (2007). In this view the  
commodification and the marketization of art changes its innate  
character and its social character. But while this is a rich and  
vital conversation in the background of any consideration of the rise  
of the creative industries, its chronology does not correspond to the  
more recent and stark rise of these industries. This is why it is  
important to insist that this rise be understood not as the invasion  
of business, or capitalism as these authors would have preferred, but  
of management. Because management implies labour, and not just any  
kind of labour but organized labour, massified and industrialized in  
some form.

So the first way that a broad view of the creative industries is  
established is by tracking the arts not through their own  
commodification, but through the commodification of those who produce  
them. The arts move from the workshop to the workplace in this view.  
Some of this movement is technological. Where once one designed a  
plate in a workshop today one designs a computer game in a workplace.  
But the movement from workshop to workplace most especially  
designates a new condition of labour, and new tools are only an  
aspect of this new condition.

There are those who regard this movement into the workplace within a  
tradition of critique stressing exploitation, but also at its best,  
stressing the historical specificity of that exploitation. Thus the  
best of the recent ethnographies of the creative industries, No  
Collar by Andrew Ross (2004) focuses on the harnessing of the persona  
of the artist to a workplace culture of overtime and total commitment  
in Silicon Alley firms. And a series of articles and talks by Angela  
McRobbie (2008) on fashion, feminism and creativity point to the  
paradox for workers of the pleasures of making art even in the  
workplace. These scholars as well as scholars represented in the  
recent reader MyCreativity stress the unique quality of the  
exploitation taking place in the creative industries. They often  
stress the precariousness of work in the creative industries echoing  
the Marxist exploration of the un-freedom of free wage labour, and  
the struggle over labour time.

Other authors focus on the kinds of productivity opened up by the  
organisation of the arts into the creative industries. Most visible  
here is the work of Richard Florida (2003) who sees not a new  
precarious worker in the creative industries but a new labour  
aristocracy he calls the creative class. Florida’s work is  
nonetheless important in the way it makes the link to economic  
development, and especially gentrification explicit. In this way,  
Florida offers us the broad view of the creative industries as a new  
engine of the economy, as before him prophets of internet technology  
or for that matter plastics and chemicals had privileged a new  
workplace and class formation within the emerging regime of  
accumulation. The emphasis not just on new forms of production, but  
also new forms of investment is perhaps more comprehensively analysed  
by Neil Smith in his book New Urban Frontiers (1996). Smith makes the  
link not only between the emergence of the creative industries and  
gentrification, but also to the new role of finance in powering this  
partnership and policing in enforcing it. Florida’s work is also  
anticipated however by another body of scholarship particularly  
emerging in the United Kingdom and Australia in the early 1990s, on  
cultural policy. Scholars like Tony Bennett (1995) sought to steer  
the combination of accumulation by dispossession, new workforce  
discipline, and reinvestment that Neil Smith apprehends by advocating  
a new science of cultural policy. In the more critical registers, as  
for instance in the vast assemblage of analysis in the work of Toby  
Miller, cultural policy studies not only situated the emerging  
creative industries within the larger scale of political economy but  
linked it to the popular struggles and subjectivities stressed by  
cultural studies, a point to which we will return. (See Miller &  
Yudice, 2002, and Miller, 2006 for examples.)

Overall this understanding of the creative industries as the coming  
of management to the arts, the move from workshop to workplace, is a  
rich vein of analysis, particularly so with the critical work of  
Ross, McRobbie and Miller. We do not mean to suggest anything less.  
For instance, Andrew Ross (1997, 2007) has linked his perceptive  
study of small software firms to other studies of the fashion  
industry and the sweatshop and the new labour militancies of China  
and thus to what Toby Miller (2006) has helpfully termed the new  
international division of cultural labour . Angela McRobbie (2008)  
draws our attention to the struggle over pleasure as a pressure point  
of politics, tracing this struggle from its highest levels of  
analysis in feminist thinking, to its re-emergence around the  
question of art as a labour of the workplace. By doing so she allows  
us to link her analysis to the workerist tradition we will sample  
later, where the emergence of affect, including pleasure and pain, as  
the raw material of work but also its product has been called the  
becoming-woman of labour by theorists like Michael Hardt and Toni  
Negri (2000).

Another Overview?

Nonetheless we can see why we must try to exceed this framing of the  
creative industries as the movement from workshop to workplace, as  
the coming of management into the arts, when we consider its opposite  
and complementary vision. This is the vision of the coming of  
creativity into management. Such a vision has perhaps been most  
succinctly if hyperbolically summarized by Daniel Pink (2006) who  
announced that the M.F.A. is the new M.B.A. That a Masters in Fine  
Arts should now be the ultimate qualification for today’s manager  
might not surprise those artists who have experienced the degree as  
the professionalization of their practices. But it was a phrase aimed  
at the business school and designed to shock it into a certain  
recognition about the new qualities of managing. Again with this view  
we have to distinguish between a long history of management thinking  
of the labour process as a kind of art work to be, if not created,  
than certainly arranged, orchestrated, recomposed, and of course  
redesigned. Many a business school student has had to sit through the  
tendentious introduction to management as both an art and a science.  
And early writings in management often aestheticized the labour  
process and the labourer even as these writings sought to establish  
the scientific, or at least social scientific basis of management.  
Even Taylor’s pig iron worker was stylized. And Mary Parker Follett  
is today recovered in part for her attention to sensibility and  
interpretation in the workplace. Such interpretation takes the  
subjective form of intuition in subsequent work on muddling managers  
by Charles Lindblom, and limited information by Herbert Simon. In  
more recent times we have seen the growth the massive literature on  
innovation and creativity, even more specific attention to the arts  
as a lens on the organisation of work in the ‘Art of Management and  
Organisation’ group at Essex University.

Of course much of this history need not be seen within the frame of  
the arts. Intuition or innovation fit into human sciences in other  
ways too. What interests us more here is the movement from art as a  
trope for management activity, to art as the objective of management.  
Because what seems to characterize this historical moment of the  
creative industries is precisely the latter.

Chris Bilton’s Management and Creativity (2006) is emblematic of this  
change. Now it is not just that creativity is required to manage the  
worker, or even that creativity is required to innovate the product,  
but that creativity is the ends, not just the means, of the labour  
process. In other words something like art is to emerge at as the  
final product. A product open to interpretation and aesthetic  
judgement, a product in dialogue with other products, a product that  
is not used up in use but instead produces new versions of itself, a  
product that will be coded differently by different users, a product  
that will in a sense have both audiences and critics. Here the  
creative industries lead not from the outside as they do with Richard  
Florida in drawing older economic formations its their orbit, but  
from the inside.

In other words what marks the creative industries in these  
complementary broad views of their development is on the one hand the  
arts as the object of management, and on the other hand the arts as  
the objective of management. Seen from management’s perspective, the  
inside perspective, the creative industries mark the vanguard of  
management’s new objective, to make the commodity into art. Seen from  
the perspective of the arts, from the outside, the creative  
industries mark the transformation of the arts into something not  
made for themselves but made specifically for management. Of course  
again one can draw a distinction within each view, within the arts as  
the object of management and the arts as the objective of management,  
between those who see mostly the benefits of such tendencies, and  
those who highlight the perils.

The benefits of the arts produced as an object of management and the  
benefits of management aiming to produce art are of course chiefly  
the same, economic growth, expanded circulation and distribution,  
access and participation, and profit. The perils are also the same.  
The arts are said to be further degraded by the degradation of the  
artist, the arts become an invidious technique for getting at the  
souls of workers and consumers, with possibilities of exploitation  
lurking in both conditions. At any rate, what seems clear is that the  
two broad perspectives are really one, from different angles.  
Management sees art as its objective, and art sees management coming,  
sees itself as management’s target. What this bifurcated view cannot  
tell us however is why this happening, and why now. Here it is no  
accident that the figures emerging from cultural studies to confront  
the creative industries point repeatedly to the expanded domain of  
labour, not culture or the arts, in their analysis.

Ross, Miller, and McRobbie all focus on the deepening and the  
widening of interdependencies of work witnessed in the creative  
industries, from the depths of affective labour to distances of  
outsourced labour. This attention by these major figures in cultural  
studies to the expanded domain of labour in the creative industries  
helps us to rethink the famous cultural turn provoked by that  
intellectual movement. We can turn to cultural studies briefly then  
to begin to answer the question of why the creative industries have  
come to prominence now, and what problems this might pose for  
managing in the creative industries.

Back to Cultural Studies

Cultural studies itself can be understood as a kind of proliferation,  
whose principle of expansion was to find new value where before none  
was acknowledged. Indeed cultural studies found new value both by a  
kind of deepening of itself, and by a widening of its attention.  
Cultural studies reached across disciplines like literature,  
sociology, and communications, across genres, from television, to  
music, to fashion, across class and race and gender to locate value  
in the popular, and across theoretical terrain from psychoanalysis,  
to deconstruction, to Marxism finding new value in older traditions.  
But cultural studies also deepened the stakes of its encounters,  
insisting on the critical quality of its work, on the transgressive  
effects of its analysis, and the links between its imperatives and  
political movements.

Whatever one’s assessment of the success of this project, or its  
aftermath, the possibility of cultural studies itself required  
certain material conditions. These were the expansion of the  
university, the expansion of popular culture through new technology,  
and the collapse of representative democracy under the weight of new  
social movements. Again the interpretation of these sweeping changes  
in society will be a matter of debate. But what seems beyond contest  
to us is the obvious but often neglected result: populations today  
are more deeply involved in creativity than at any time in history.  
Art is closer to people than at any time in history. They make and  
compile music. They design interiors and make-over their bodies. They  
watch more television and more movies. They think about food and  
clothes. They write software and surf the net for music videos and  
play on-line games together. When people are not working, they are  
doing this other work (or the work renewing their capacities to work,  
in the gym or the classroom, but that is another story.) The point is  
there is a massive daily register of judgement, critique, attention,  
and taste. There is also a massive daily practice in the arts, from  
underground music, to making gardens, to creative writing camps. And  
with this there is production of subjectivities which are literally  
fashioned, which are aesthetic, which are created. Cultural studies  
in some ways merely responded to this deepening and widening of  
cultural activity in populations.

But more importantly for us, cultural studies brought into focus the  
new raw material that would form the basis of the creative  
industries. If one is to look beyond the phenomenal aspects of the  
creative industries and to ask why these industries have arisen, if  
one is truly to develop the kind of vision that can contextualise  
management in the creative industries, starting with this massive  
daily activity in populations begins to give us a sense of the  
wealth, of the value latent in popular culture, a value soon to be  
realized in the creative industries. Cultural studies reminds us that  
the creative industries, much like cultural studies itself, are a  
response to this new value in society. But cultural studies still  
does not tell us how the creative industries managed to capitalize on  
this value.

Because while we owe a debt to cultural studies for seeing the value  
in all this activity, for investing so heavily in it and bringing  
theory to bear on it, we can also see now, with the rise of the  
creative industries that if anything cultural studies did not value  
this activity enough. Or rather perhaps we should say cultural  
studies did not value it accurately. For cultural studies, despite  
its investment, tended to focus on this massive daily activity in the  
population as a matters of circulation, consumption and distribution.  
For cultural studies, the struggle was over the forms of consumption,  
and the way cultural commodities were recoded and appropriated, as  
famously in Stuart Hall’s work on television. It was over the  
circulation of these commodities, and the consequences of the  
expanded circulation of cultural forms, as in the studies of soap  
operas and their adaptions and receptions globally. But it was also a  
struggle over the hierarchical qualities of this circulation and was  
thus tied to the struggles over the distribution of cultural value,  
most famously the valorisation of popular cultural commodities, as  
for instance in the case of Black British cultural expressions. This  
politics of redistribution led cultural studies to other sites in  
search of this valorisation, to communities, clubs, homes, and  
subcultures (and away from workplaces, factories and offices). It  
also led cultural studies to value different subjectivities for the  
way they consumed, circulated, and distributed cultural forms, and to  
open fronts of new recognition among these subjectivities in an  
effort to redistribute cultural value. In short, cultural studies, in  
the main, focused on three of Marx’s four circuits of production.

Some of this emphasis on circulation and consumption was intended to  
blunt the productivist tendencies cultural studies encountered on the  
Left, as for instance in labour process studies, and some of it was  
designed to recast older notions of reception and education in the  
arts, mostly on the Right, as for instance in Leavisite criticism.  
And indeed there were always attempts to balance the circuits, as for  
instance in the Sony Walkman study (Du Gay et. al, 1996), a study  
that often finds its way on to business school course in Britain  
today. Some of the emphasis on the politics of distribution had much  
to do with the university as a site of social welfare where resources  
and knowledges could be allocated differently. And as we mentioned  
earlier some of this shift in political emphasis responded to the new  
social movements whose most radical, if often unrecognised, stance  
was to push welfare state politics out of its productivist stance and  
into the realm of expanded distribution.

But what is already implied in cultural studies, and becomes explicit  
in the creative industries, is that the struggle over cultural  
commodities was not just a struggle about the redistribution of  
value, but also about its absolute expansion. In other words what was  
already emerging was the idea that a cultural commodity could produce  
more value not just at its point of production, as is traditionally  
understood in Marxist thought, but along the other circuits. This is  
because what cultural studies begins to grasp is that opening up the  
circulation of cultural forms appeared to create new value  
everywhere. If we want to think of this concretely, think of the way  
cultural studies was caricatured as finding resistance everywhere, or  
valuing body art or comic books, and thus appearing to lose the  
ability to make distinctions on value. In fact, this ambition in  
cultural studies was a symptom of this new condition of value. As the  
creative industries would soon show us, there was indeed more and  
more value to be had in body art and comic books, and even in putting  
resistance to work, as the cultural theorist and activist Franco  
Berardi (Bifo) suggested in a recent talk at the Tate Britain (2008).

Part of this has to do with the two meanings of value coming together  
in the cultural commodity, a condition cultural studies did indeed  
recognize. Value as wealth and value as norm seem to coexist in the  
cultural commodity, or perhaps we should say seem to jostle each  
other in the cultural commodity, revealing not just the split between  
them, but the split within themselves. Value as wealth always raises  
the spectre of surplus value, of wealth created through exploitation  
but also of the potential for expansion, for more wealth, in this  
split. Asking whether art should have a price on it always raises the  
question of what is wrong with a price and thus always brings to the  
surface the split in value as wealth. At the same time, cultural  
studies used this first question to raise a second, what is the split  
in value as norm, what is this norm we use against the spectre of  
price? Whose norm is it, and how was this norm itself generated,  
questions which split value as norm as surely as value as wealth was  
split. But this is not the whole story. Because with the rise of the  
creative industries we now see that bringing these two ideas of value  
together did not just provide a critique of each, as cultural studies  
helpfully insisted, but also increased the potency of each sense of  
value in a new combination that requires another step in our analysis.

Cultural Commodity

In fact we could say bringing these two senses of value together in  
the cultural commodity did not just open up both senses to critique,  
but opened up both senses in general. Both ideas of value in the  
commodity became unfinished, not just in the sense of open to  
interpretation but open to augmentation, to modification, to  
development, to redirection, in short, to labour. But not just any  
labour, not labour in the workshop-become-a-workplace or even  
creative labour, but labour beyond the workplace, labour in the other  
circuits. No longer was this labour merely there to keep things  
moving, or allocate things, or use them up to realize their value.  
This was labour that did the work of workplace labour, changing the  
commodity, adding to it, developing its value, and developing the  
value of its own labouring subjectivity.

This kind of commodity and the labour that attends it is described by  
Maurizio Lazzarato, the Paris-based Italian theorist in his seminal  
and much misunderstood article on immaterial labour. Leaving aside  
some of the other aspects of this term, here is his discussion of the  
cultural commodity:

Immaterial labour finds itself at the crossroads (or rather, it is  
the interface) of a new relationship between production and  
consumption. The activation of both productive cooperation and the  
social relationship with the consumer is materialized within and by  
the process of communication. The role of immaterial labour is to  
promote continual innovation in the forms and conditions of  
communication (and thus in work and consumption). It gives form to  
and materializes needs, the imaginary, consumer tastes, and so forth,  
and these products in turn become powerful producers of needs,  
images, and tastes. The particularity of the commodity produced  
through immaterial labour (its essential use value being given by its  
value as informational and cultural content) consists in the fact  
that it is not destroyed in the act of consumption, but rather it  
enlarges, transforms, and creates the "ideological" and cultural  
environment of the consumer. This commodity does not produce the  
physical capacity of labour power; instead, it transforms the person  
who uses it. Immaterial labour produces first and foremost a "social  
relationship" (a relationship of innovation, production, and  
consumption). Only if it succeeds in this production does its  
activity have an economic value (2003).

What is distinct for us here is not a new kind of labour, called  
immaterial by Lazzarato and characterized by communication, but the  
dominance of a new kind of labour process characterized for us by the  
unfinished quality and condition of the cultural commodity that is  
the object and objective of this labour process. It is cultural  
studies that helps us to focus on this idea of an unfinished  
commodity and its labour process, because it was cultural studies  
that first introduced the idea of a commodity that could be coded and  
recoded by those who take it up, and it is cultural studies that  
located this process of unfinishing the commodity (and the subject)  
in society at large, in the social factory and not in the workplace.  
It is also cultural studies that first gives us a sense of the  
magnitude of this social factory, and consequently of the magnitude  
of the work going on this social factory. And where there is work,  
can management be far behind? (Harney, 2005)

Managing Cultural Commodities?

In fact management, the management of the creative industries is in  
some ways far behind. Focused on the twin conditions of the arts as  
the object of management and as the objective of management in the  
movement from the workshop to the workplace, management in the  
creative industries has yet to come to grips with all this work out  
in the social factory, all of this unfinished business. The focus is  
still mainly on the workplace and its more traditional labour  
process, still productivist, still stuck in one circuit. But this is  
not to say management has not noticed all this potential value, and  
tellingly this tends to come in those parts of the management  
sciences more attuned to the other circuits, in marketing and in  
operations.

Two examples here would be viral marketing, and advanced distributed  
learning through game simulation as form of operations management,  
the former is supported by the murky corporate intelligence community  
and the latter by U.S. and U.K. military, both as promising methods  
of investigation into the social factory. The latter, also known as  
massive multiplayer online gaming (MMOG), offers a model of what is  
called network centric warfare where contributions can be made (work  
can be done) anywhere in the circuits, and not just in the command  
and control environment of military units (Bonk & Dennen, 2005). But  
most importantly simulations, unlike games, have no finish, and the  
efforts here are to bring the motivational advantages of gaming, a  
way of describing the effort bargain, under conditions without end.  
This work provides a model of operations where work would never be  
completed at any point, and where the product, whether conceived as  
training, intelligence, or war, is developed all along a distributed  
network, perpetually.

Viral marketing has recently been discovered by the Society of  
Competitive Intelligence Professionals and also is beginning to make  
an appearance in journals like Marketing Intelligence and Planning.  
Viral marketing, like experiential marketing and relationship  
marketing hint at a consumer who is already organized and indeed the  
latest thinking on viral marketing assumes this condition. It seeks  
to data mine competitors and then release negative information into  
the bloodstream of these organised consumers. But even more  
interestingly for our purposes the latest thinking in experiential  
marketing emphasises not just the participation of the consumer but  
the development of the experience through the work of that consumer.  
In that sense experiential marketing is prospecting the same  
territory as simulation, the territory of the unfinished cultural  
commodity.

There are of course more innocuous examples of this fitful interest  
in the social factory, examples that often make it into the  
curriculum precisely because students are hard at work on them. We  
are thinking for instance of the viral marketing campaign of Snakes  
on a Plane (2006), or the on-line simulation game Second Life (2003).  
But even these can been seen as they are by Tiziana Terranova (2004)  
as examples of free labour exploited by the network culture. And  
beyond these straightforward examples of management at work outside  
the workplace in the social factory, where to place the assembling of  
audiences, attentions, states of affect, that begin with the exhibit  
or the CD or the layout of the coffee house, but cannot capture all  
the value of these assemblages in moment of performance, the moment  
of the show? Is management to let all this wealth making capacity  
slip away, or into the hands of competitors?

Concluding Questions

This is the real condition of managing in the creative industries, a  
condition in which much of what management seeks is beyond its  
tradition grasp in the legal sense. Much of the labour it requires  
does not work for it, and will not remain with it. Of course there  
are other ways to view this larger picture of the creative  
industries, both from an orthodox business and economics perspective  
and from an orthodox Marxist perspective. It is possible to keep the  
circuits in their place. But we think it is worth thinking about  
these circuits today as intensely laboured, and to think of the  
creative industries as the effort of management to reach along these  
circuits. At very least this perspectives credits management in the  
creative industries with some ambition. After all, before the advent  
of the creative industries who but the state had the vision to  
imagine that the population as a whole, and not merely one’s own  
workforce, could be the object of management? And indeed from our  
point of view this precedent of state disciplinarity helps explain  
the growing number of management techniques that come to echo the  
techniques of state, and hint at the general productivity of the  
population now being available not just at the level of the  
workplace, but at the level of society, at the level of the social  
factory. The rise of strategy, of governance, of social  
responsibility and citizenship, of intelligence gathering, of brand  
loyalty do not just echo qualities and registers of the nation-state,  
they also borrow the techniques, like data mining, that were the  
disciplinary and security underpinnings of these grand ambitions. To  
manage in the creative industries is to enter into this contemporary  
statecraft, where the stakes are far greater than whether an artist  
can be supervised.

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