You
are at your mother-in-law’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, and what a sumptuous
spread she has put on the table for you! The turkey is roasted to a golden
brown; the stuffing is homemade and exactly the way you like it. Your kids are
delighted: the sweet potatoes are crowned with marshmallows. And your wife is
flattered: her favorite recipe for pumpkin pie has been chosen for dessert.
The
festivities continue into the late afternoon. You loosen your belt and sip a
glass of wine. Gazing fondly across the table at your mother- in- law, you rise
to your feet and pull out your wallet. “Mom, for all the love you’ve put into
this, how much do I owe you?” you say sincerely. As silence descends on the
gathering, you wave a handful of bills. “Do you think three hundred dollars
will do it? No, wait, I should give you four hundred!”
This is
not a picture that Norman Rockwell would have painted. A glass of wine falls
over; your mother- in- law stands up red- faced; your sister- in- law shoots
you an angry look; and your niece bursts into tears. Next year’s Thanksgiving
celebration, it seems, may be a frozen dinner in front of the television set.
What’s going on here? Why does an offer for direct payment put such a damper on
the party? As Margaret Clark, Judson Mills, and Alan Fiske suggested a long
time ago, the answer is that we live simultaneously in two different worlds-
one where social norms prevail, and the other where market norms make the
rules. The social norms include the friendly requests that people make of one
another. Could you help me move this couch? Could you help me change this tire?
Social norms are wrapped up in our social nature and our need for community. They
are usually warm and fuzzy. Instant paybacks are not required: you may help
move your neighbor’s couch, but this doesn’t mean he has to come right over and
move yours. It’s like opening a door for someone: it provides pleasure for both
of you, and reciprocity is not immediately required.
The
second world, the one governed by market norms, is very different. There’s
nothing warm and fuzzy about it. The exchanges are sharp- edged: wages, prices,
rents, interest, and costs- and- benefits. Such market relationships are not
necessarily evil or mean-in fact, they also include self- reliance,
inventiveness, and individualism-but they do imply comparable benefits and
prompt payments. When you are in the domain of market norms, you get what you
pay for-that’s just the way it is.
When we
keep social norms and market norms on their separate paths, life hums along
pretty well. Take sex, for in stance. We may have it free in the social
context, where it is, we hope, warm and emotionally nourishing. But there’s
also market sex, sex that is on demand and that costs money. This seems pretty
straightforward. We don’t have husbands (or wives) coming home asking for a $50
trick; nor do we have prostitutes hoping for everlasting love.
When
social and market norms collide, trouble sets in. Take sex again. A guy takes a
girl out for dinner and a movie, and he pays the bills. They go out again, and
he pays the bills once more. They go out a third time, and he’s still springing
for the meal and the entertainment. At this point, he’s hoping for at least a
passionate kiss at the front door. His wallet is getting perilously thin, but
worse is what’s going on in his head: he’s having trouble reconciling the
social norm (courtship) with the market norm (money for sex). On the fourth date
he casually mentions how much this romance is costing him. Now he’s crossed the
line. Violation! She calls him a beast and storms off. He should have known
that one can’t mix social and market norms-especially in this case-without
implying that the lady is a tramp. He should also have remembered the immortal
words of Woody Allen: “The most expensive sex is free sex.”