One of the chapters in the book we are reading, Predictably Irrational by Dan Ariely, focuses on the effect of expectations. The basic premise is that if we believe something will be good, that will influence how good it actually is. For example, a 50 cent asprin will probably be better than a 5 cent asprin, but that's not because of the pill. That's because you assume the first pill will be more effective based on the price, so your body acts to release more hormones that decrease pain, which thus decreases your pain. This doesn't happen with simply price. Let's think about Coke and Pepsi. Most people prefer Coke. However, in a blind taste test, it is true that people tend to prefer Pepsi. This means that people will actively choose Coke over Pepsi, even if it tastes relatively worse. Why? Expectations. Coke is associated with a rich American cultural history. Pepsi is not. Coke is just a sugary soda with a great advertising campaign. We're all fooled by it, but in a way, that fooling can be good, because it makes us enjoy Coke a lot more.
Now my thought is, how does this apply to art?
Yesterday, I was browsing through the exhibits at the ESP showcase. Clearly, the students put a reasonable amount of work into their projects, and their projects were probably reasonably good (or at least not completely terrible). Still, it was hard for me to invest myself in their work. It was hard for me to take their poetry seriously.
Was the issue the quality of their writing? Or was the issue that these were a bunch of teenagers who are relatively unknown?
Of course I am not expecting the highest quality from a bunch of teenagers. However, especially in regards to the poetry, I didn't think there was a significant difference between these teenagers and current writers today. Honestly I'm not a big fan of post-modern writing today, but many are, so clearly there's a niche for it somewhere.
I think with much of this writing, especially nowadays, it matters less how you write and more how you look when you write. It's about the appearance of cool, not just with the book, but with the authors themselves.
Here's an example. For most people, Maya Angelou is the only living (or recently deceased) poet they can actually name. I haven't read too much Maya Angelou, but I assume she is reasonably good at what she does. On the other hand, I don't think her magic comes from the words alone. She is also an excellent speaker, and she has a very interesting life story. These things add to the image of Maya Angelou. See, I haven't read her poetry, and I already assume it's good.
I started reading The Stranger by Albert Camus last night, and as I was reading it, I couldn't help but think "Albert Camus is so cool." His writing did not contain any flowerly language, but I was completely seduced by his style, which is straightforward and light with a touch of cynicism. Perhaps the reason I was more instantly drawn in was because I read about Albert Camus in Cultural Amnesia, and Clive James spent at least 6 pages talking about how Albert Camus was so cool.
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| Look at him. Look at that trench coat. |
So perhaps one of the ways to make good art is not to improve craft, but instead to shape yourself as a human being to make yourself appear more charming and likeable. Then, people will go into your art with the assumption that it will be good because they like you, and the art will be much more pleasing to them because of that.

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