Named after an English financier who lived during the Tudor dynasty, Gresham’s Law states that bad money drives out good. One could argue, persuasively in fact, that the same principle holds true in both food and in culture.
The bad drives out the good.
Why? For no other reason than because it is more easily understood, accessed, and enjoyed. For example, if you’ve ever been to a McDonalds or a Burger King and ordered yourself a hamburger, you probably aren’t fooling yourself into thinking that this is a culinary masterpiece. The meat is likely far from fresh (or organic or free range), the preparation was hasty and done without any of concern of a master chef, and the finished product does little more than put taste of our pallet and satisfy a (large) portion of our daily caloric needs. However, many people enjoy these products day in and day out. And it’s entirely possible that they actually enjoy it as well. (I can’t think of any other reason they keep coming back.)
What would happen if you gave them a genuine Kobe beef burger, made with the freshest beef, and delicious other ingredients? One of two things. Either their life would be absolutely changed and transformed by the burger’s deliciousness, or they wouldn’t even like the way it tasted. They would have become so used to the taste of the common McDonalds burger that when the best beef in the world meets their mouth, they don’t even know it.
Culturally thinking, there’s an obvious parallel. Often times, the music, art, or films which are the most popular (define that however you will, whether in terms of sales or buzz or whatever) are not the films that are the best in terms of artistic creativity. Granted, every so often a truly beautiful piece of artwork comes along and is accepted by some of the mainstream pop culture lovers. But even then, it’s not embraced at a level that comes anywhere close to the level at which the regular, common art is.
At this point, I’m forced to wonder — how do we even know and understand what’s the best of something? Isn’t “best” subjective? Especially in relation to art, music, film, sculpture, books, and the like. Sure, we know of the classics, like The Beatles or Michael Jackson or Shakespeare, and we use them as a benchmark for all other things to come after them, but how do we know that they are any good? Do we believe they’re good because other people told us so? Conversely, why do we believe other things are crap?
Moving back to food, knowing what is the “best” is slightly more simple. We generally use our sense of taste to determine what’s the best. If I said that OK Cafe (off West Paces Ferry in Atlanta) has the best Mac and Cheese that I have ever tasted, I have come to this statement through a process of comparison to all the other Mac and Cheese dishes I’ve ever had and decided that it is this one that my pallet likes best. But some out disagree. It depends primarily on what your pallet and taste-buds are accustomed to. You may not be able to enjoy the differing textures and the layers of cheesy complexity found in OK Cafe’s Mac and Cheese because you’re so used to the Kraft Mac and Cheese from the blue box. (And if you fall into this category, I shall indeed pray for your pallet!)
While some may not see much wrong with the Kraft Mac and Cheese from the blue box, many do. They understand that true quality cannot be mass produced, nor properly produced for the masses. To site Dwight Macdonald, discussing culture in a similar way, “Since Mass Culture is not an art form but a manufactured commodity, it tends always downward, toward cheapness…” Macdonald has essentially proven that the Kraft Mac and Cheese is no good. Why? Simply because it is mass produced, for mass consumption.
Consider what we deem to be the best things in the world: black truffles, Ferraris, Patek Philippe watches, bespoke Armani suits, Kobe beef, Cristal champagne, Prada shoes, and Hermes ties. (While yes, that list is heavily populated with things men like, the same could be said about Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik, Chanel, or Louis Vuitton) They are better than the rest of the world’s products because the are rarer, of higher quality, and only available to a select audience. As far as brands are concerned, they could be likened to the works of Mozart, Mattise, and (Arthur) Miller.
It’s also interesting to note that the more commonplace these things become, the less value they have in the eye of the consumer. There is an incredible luxury in possessing art which few others can obtain.
As it relates to food, can we definitively say that a certain type is better than another? Is taste and “bestness” simply subjective, relegated to individual preferences? Or are there global standards by which to judge? If there are global standards, where did they come from?
source: Dwight Macdonald, “A Theory of Mass Culture.” Popular Culture: A Reader, Guins and Cruz. Sage, 2005.
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