JEAN-PIERRE HASSOUN
In The Passions and the
Interests
(1977), Albert O. Hirschman surveyed the history of ideas in an effort to
understand how lucrative activities such as commerce, banking, and speculation
could, at different times in the same places, be either stigmatized and counted
among the worst social defects, such as greed and avarice, or become
legitimate, and ultimately come to stand as behavior models. In his view, this
long evolution of ideas crystallized around the paradigmatic opposition
between passions and interests. Thinkers as diverse as Saint Augustine, Thomas
Aquinas, Calvin, Pascal, La Rochefoucauld, Montesquieu, Vico, Hobbes, Adam
Smith, Max Weber, and though only alluded to, Freud, dissected human nature to
find answers to the question of how to handle the harmful passions, of which
greed was one of the most recurrent manifestations. Should such passions be
censored or repressed? Should the passions be allowed to play themselves
against each other, thereby canceling each other out? Should they instead be
channeled, sublimated, used, even valued and praised? The question runs all
through Western thought, concerned as it has been to reconcile ‘moral’
imperatives generally rooted in Christian tradition with the imperatives of
economic development.
But if we change the focus,
leaving aside ideas understood as guides to human action during a given period
and conceiving the market act as what I will call a ‘total market action’
occurring within a specific institutional arrangement that has its own social
dynamic and time frame, the moral and normative paradigms assumed to legitimate
the field of economic activity come to seem rather abstract. What reason is
there to think that in action the passions fade away, yielding to cold
calculation and control? Do passion- fueled emotions become ‘disenchanted’ in
that, as we understand it, the ultimate function and goal of the passions is
rational? Are they destined to
Translation
by Amy Jacobs. I first touched on the subject of this chapter at a conference
of the Social Studies of Finance Association (SSFA), 17 May 2002, entitled
‘Paris, place financiered My thanks to Marie Buscatto, Jerome Gautie, Karin
Knorr, Paul Lagneau-Ymonet, Alex Preda, and Florence Weber for their comments
on previous versions of this text.
be
‘instrumentalized’ in the service of higher moral and collective interests? The
concept of a ‘metamorphosis’ of the passions seems to partake more of an opaque
moral, even transcendental alchemy than of analysis in terms of social uses and
symbolic issues? As I see it, while these ideas may refer to an ideological
and normative transformation that occurred within the history of ideas, they
diminish or leave unexplored the social mechanisms by which it is possible to manage the passions in action,
rather than transform them.
My
purpose here is to take up the classic question of relations between passions
and interests without being boxed into a paradigmatic opposition between the
two terms and without giving privilege of place to the idea that passions are
transformed into interests.
Rather than ‘dissect the
human soul’ atopically, I propose to examine the problem from a vantage point
firmly anchored in both place and time: the financial market trading floor
during intense moments of market action and the intense emotions such action
causes and brings to the surface.
I define
market emotions as those moments in market activity when increased intensity in
trading activity provokes intense affective states characterized by (1) physical
and mental disturbance or excitement and (2) the individual production of
metaphors that fleetingly transfigure the relation of market actor to market
activity. In contrast to the usual definition of emotion, I do not establish a
correlation between emotion and disturbance or abolition of appropriate
reactions for adapting to events. On the contrary, I am interested in
situational emotion within the market process and in how that emotion is
expressed by market actors.
Studies
of financial trading floors have focused on the physical morphology of ‘the
crowd’ and its effects on volatility (Baker 1984a, b), the ambiguities of
trader behavior (Marks 1988), the effects of computerization on the physical
market (Jorion 1994), and relations among market strategies, institutional
frameworks, and social norms (Abolafia 1996, 1998; Hassoun 2000a,
2002) . While these authors agree
that such markets constitute oversocialized worlds, they have not studied the
human passions expressed in them as a research object. It is true that emotions
are of marginal interest to economic theory, and when they are taken into
account, the focus tends to be exclusively on their possible effects on
individual behavior (Elster 1998). In theoretical thinking on financial
markets, ‘emotional reactions’ are most often associated with investors’
‘irrational exuberance’, a notion used to explain how speculative bubbles
happen (Shiller 2001).
And yet
anyone who has directly observed financial market actors knows that emotions
and their verbal and physical expression are a daily part of these activities.
I had repeated opportunities to realize this during the year-long ethnographic
study I conducted (1997-8) at the Palais Brongniart, site of the Paris Stock
Exchange or Bourse. In addition to daily observation, I spoke with
approximately fifty persons, all present and officially working there, in both
formal recorded interviews and ordinary conversation. I also regularly spent
time with some in the Palais de la Bourse cafeteria, and lunched with them several
times in nearby restaurants. After the markets were computerized in May 1998
(see Godechot, Hassoun, and Muniesa 2000), I remained in contact with
approximately twenty professionals, thereby collecting retrospective views on
this development. Given that language was one of the ‘pillars’ of open-outcry
trading-floor activity, somewhat as networks, mathematical formulas, and
computers are of electronic financial markets (Beunza and Stark 2004, Chapter
4, this volume), actors’ accounts and vocabulary occupy an important place in
this article.1
Emotions
on the trading floor are to be read first of all on faces, where strong tension
and concentration may be perceived, but also at those moments when facial
muscles, and the body with them, suddenly go loose. Emotions are perceptible in
the interaction rites of a place where physical proximity dominates (Hassoun
2000&); they are on daily display in the form of angry verbal outbursts,
shoving, friendly, ambiguous, or aggressive back- slapping, complicitous hand
taps, hateful or empathetic looks, yelling, swearing, and insults. Financial
market actors’ behavior openly expresses such varied emotions as sympathy,
admiration, anger, aggressiveness, feelings of rivalry, shame, and humiliation.
And generally, these emotional phenomena are fully verbalized, either at the
moment the feelings are felt, or in the discussion and reminiscing that fuel
daily life in these places, which, whatever else they are, are places of work.
Before
considering more closely the contexts in which such emotions emerge, it is
useful to specify the different types of market actors exposed to feeling them.
Brokers
regularly employed by Bourse brokerage firms execute buying and selling orders
for off-the-floor clients, but they also develop sophisticated know-how for
attaining their ends and in this sense are directly involved in the market
performance.
Brokers
also engage in spieling (from German ‘game to play’) with the
firm’s compte
maison
(house account); that is, buying and selling with the firm’s money
independently of client orders. All spieling profits are divided up as bonuses
among employees on the relevant trader team. The compte maison can of course show a
negative balance (in which case it is called the compte erreur) from losses due to
trading errors, disputes among traders, or losing spiels, all potential sources
of what I am calling market emotions since, even though personal funds are not
at stake, spieling involves hope of gain in the form of bonuses.
Independent
floor traders (IFT) were established by the Marche a Terme International de
France, Societe Anonyme (Matif SA) to create liquidity.2
IFTs
sometimes called speculators, work for themselves and generally act as
‘scalpers’, initiating positions that they then ‘turn around’ as quickly as
possible for immediate profit.3 They risk their own money, along
with their professional existence since they can ‘get blown off’ the market at
any moment.
Boxemen provide live ‘market
commentary’ by telephone to the desks; flashers gesture information between traders and
boxemen. Couriers run in all directions transmitting time-stamped orders to
computer operators for registration. Employees in these categories are also
fully exposed to market emotions through their participation in collective
performances and the general hub-bub and excitement.
The
intensity and frequency of emotion are of course unequally distributed among
these groups, but to construct the research object it seems reasonable to
adopt a transversal perspective rather than emphasizing social or functional
differentiation. Observation, interviews, and conversations all suggest that
market action—buying and selling, winning and losing—is likely to produce
emotions among those who engage in it, whatever their occupational status or
financial means.
Though market emotion is
never fully disconnected from monetary gain or loss, this directly utilitarian
relation hardly exhausts the phenomenon. Here I wish to explore its other
component—the passions—without effacing or neglecting the question of financial
profit or loss, i.e. interests.
The
emotional phenomena discussed here can only be approached sociologically if we
are careful not to dissociate what causes the emotion from what the emotion
itself may bring about in the immediate social environment. The following
interview excerpts provide a means of examining the connections between
situations in which emotions are experienced and the effects of those emotions
on local social surroundings.
One day
I bought 5600 contracts in one hour. For the same client. He’s THE client, you
use the formal with him.. .I once sold 4000 contracts with him, another time
4800; once I bought 3000. But [that one] was the biggest [trade] I’ve done...
You’ve got everybody watching you, they can’t believe their eyes. And it was unbelievable— you’d’ve
thought we were on the Notionnel.4 In the space of a minute he’s
going, ‘Buy 200’, ‘You got it!’ ‘Buy 300’, ‘I’ll give ya 200!’. The NIPs were
staring at us, it showed up on the CAC5 —we were creatures from
outerspace, there’s no other word for it. (Head of a trader team)
Keep in
mind that the CAC [Futures] record is 73 000 contracts in one day. Once, at the
Sirap, we did 43 000 contracts on the CAC in a single day. We were way over 50%
[of pit volume]—we were the kings of the universe! There was nobody but us. You
couldn’t do a trade without going to see the Sirap—impossible! I was all over
the place. In all the commentaries it was ‘Sirap, Sirap’ all day long. That
evening all
the boxemen came to me saying, ‘What a hard-on you musta had!’ (Head of a
boxemen
team)
The
emotions here narrated were produced by accomplishing a trading performance
that consists, in the case of a broker-client relation, of buying or selling a
high number of contracts at the rate the client demands, or, for independent
traders, selling or getting extraordinarily high volumes of orders. This type
of performance is measured in comparison to either a single deal or a trading day and may
be either individual or collective. It can take the form of a ‘record’, and
thus shows that market activity involves internalized social experience that
produces local memory disconnected from economic functions and goals, since
thinking of number of contracts sold in a day as a record creates a symbolic
function that then coexists with the economic goal implied in thinking of each
trade as separate from all others.
This
type of emotion has multiple social meanings and effects. It can bring about
territorial polarization: ‘You’ve got everybody watching you’, ‘I was all over
the place; In all the commentaries’, ‘way over 50%’. It allows for explicitly
establishing a symbolic hierarchy among the different exchanges operating at
the Palais de la Bourse: ‘You’d’ve thought we were on the Notionnel’. It
reflects and intensifies competition between the different status groups (‘The
NIPs were staring at us’), and it underlines the social feeling of having had
an exceptional experience (‘we were creatures from outer space’).
Territorialization,
competition, exceptional experience all work together to infuse actors with the
feeling they are participating in a contest:
The biggest moment I think,
or that I remember, was when interests rates were changed in ’93 ... We were at
around 130 on the Notionnel and had an order to sell a block of 1000 contracts
every 5 centimes. No one saw me move, and we sold 25 or 30 000 contracts in
under three hours. I’d say we really made the market that day—we brought it down two
points... It was a massacre, it went from 130 to 115. At closing I didn’t even
know my name... When you’ve lived through that, you’re almost a veteran, you
relativize, 4 points doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore... You sweat all
over the place saying it can’t be true, and it wears you out a little, but
those are good memories—real moments. (Desk sales, in touch with the floor)
The
competition here is among contestants struggling against each other to find the
desired buyer or seller, to be the fastest to find a buyer or seller, to move
at the right moment (‘no one saw me move’). But these same contestants will
come together immediately afterward as complementary parties to strike the next
deal. The competitive relations uniting exchange members are paradoxical,
involving both market competition and market alliance. And their twofold nature
goes together with an informal symbolic struggle among, on the one hand,
individuals following largely male norms and holding largely male values which
are only strengthened by working in a place from which women are virtually
absent, and on the other, the various Bourse brokerage firms, whose names, like
the colors of the jackets worn by their brokers, are coded in terms of
prestige. The twofold symbolic competition is accentuated by the fact that the
trading floors are also labor markets where one can change employers easily,
thereby converting accumulated prestige into supplementary financial income.
But once again, prestige accumulation can never be conceived exclusively in
terms of monetary convertibility. It must be seen in relation to professional
self-valuing, in turn heightened by this type of emotion. Emotion is an active
principle in the hands-on, in-the- pit professional self-construction process.
The
emotions provoked by successful ‘performance’, and the accounts of those
emotions, recall the ‘cult of performance’ described by Alain Ehrenberg (1991)
at a much broader social scale with regard to ‘extreme sports’ (bungie-jumping,
car and motorcycle racing, etc.). In France, people began practising such
sports at the same time the financial markets were taking off, and some
trading-floor actors I met did extreme sports on the weekend or during
vacation.
More generally, this type
of emotion partakes in the social fabric of open- outcry markets, contributing
to actors’ on-the-job internalization of a few specific social principles: the
pit is a territory; the different futures markets are hierarchically ordered;
the activity involves the staging of a social, inter- and intraprofessional
contest; prestige should be accumulated to develop professional renown.
Emotions can also arise
following abrupt, violent market movements that accentuate the uncertainty
consubstantial with these activities; and in response to events external to the
trading floor that upset market equilibrium: wars, conflicts, or political
decisions.
The Gulf
War was hell... the most torrid, turn-on moments I’ve ever known on the Bourse,
the headiest, the most destructive, too. We were at the farthest extremes...
I’m amazed that not everyone tells you about it because we and everybody’s
still talking about it today... For us it’s THE reference. In terms of
activity, the market exploded. It could lose 150 points, then lose them again
in another 20 minutes. It was going every which way. One day you lost 30 000
francs, the next you made 40 000.6 You were always in the air, you
didn’t know your own name. August 2, Iraqi troops enter Kuwait. We felt
immediately something really serious had happened—from the nervousness of the
market. I’ve never seen such panicky order-giving in all my time at the
Bourse... Ten times more orders than we could handle, with outrageous
quantities and price spreads. You could feel panic in everyone. I got the
chills, felt incredibly cold all over—then the sweats. ‘What’s going on?!’I
said. Because when it started, we didn’t know what it was. All we knew was that
it was total panic. And panic scares people. All the guys who come onto the Bourse
now, when we tell them about it they say, ‘I’d sure like to experience that!
Damn, that must’ve been something!’. (Boxeman-seller, later head of a broker
team and client manager)
I don’t
know how to explain it. It’s so wild. If a guy sees it who’s not in it, all he
could say is, ‘They should be locked up!’ It’s so violent when it takes off.
It’s violent, the power of the market... when it starts moving. When we were in
the Gulf War, it was 300 000, 400 000 contracts a day for six months, it was
opening and closing.7 You’ve gotta be in it... It’s all that counts,
you clear out your head, you don’t hear anything anymore. I was in it all that
time, that’s why I spieled, because when you’ve got a position, you’ve got to
be in it. Then you’re not surprised when an order comes in, you know the rates,
you know who’s doing what, who’s buying, who’s selling... You’ve got to be in
it all the time to know where the market is, you’ve got to have a position and
know where to strike. (IFT)
The day Buba [Bundesbank]
rates went up, I lost 4000 ticks on my first operation.8 My first
operation! I was long for 300 contracts,9 at around 40 on average,
and I cut at 10. I lost 400 000 francs. But afterwards I re-initiated, and at
the end of the day I’d only lost 700 ticks. Losing 400 000 francs didn’t
paralyze me. I went back in and... no, what’s good about me is that when I get
slapped down, I’m already raging to get back in. Because, I say to myself,
they’re not going to take that away from me—C’mon, back to the front. I take
five minutes out from the exchange, smoke a cigarette, clear my head, and
charge back in. (Broker, later IFT)
One of
the social effects of such heady moments is the production of something
resembling collective memory, itself given strong verbal expression. Even
though the market actors I spoke with tended to cite the same events (primarily
the 1990-1 Gulf War, the 1991 putsch in Russia, the 1992 French referendum on
the Maastricht Treaty, and the European Central Bank’s 1993 interest rate
decision) and present them similarly, I would hesitate to qualify this as
full-fledged collective memory because it has not been stabilized within a
‘social framework’, either patrimonial, associative, or around a trade union
(Halbwachs 1922 [1924]).
Can what
I am calling market action be stabilized within a similar official, legitimate
social framework, thereby allowing diffuse, atomized professional memories to
be shaped into legitimate collective memory? A partial answer to this question
may be found in the City of London. In the street of the London International
Financial Futures Exchanges (Liffe) stands a statue of a floor trader, unveiled
at a public ceremony by the Mayor of London. Thus encompassed in a positive
public discourse, the statue confers a degree of social value on financial
trading and speculation professionals, and hence, indirectly, on their
emotions, inscribing them in lasting urban memory. In Paris, on the contrary,
a lack of institutional links, combined with an ideology which keeps market
activities in shadow, explains why these memory fragments cannot be aggregated
into a collective narrative and thus seem more atomized than truly collective
memory. But atomization does not prevent individuals from making retrospective
social use of remembered emotions.
The
second social and ideological meaning of this type of emotion has to do with
the extremely ambivalent attitude these actor-speakers have toward violence.
This is suggested by the ‘heady/destructive’ opposition. Once market shock and
the strong, unpleasant emotion accompanying it have been felt (‘it was a
massacre’; ‘it’s violent, the power of the market’) or once a blow has been
taken, the trader, either broker or independent, can only return to the
violence of the market (‘I charge back in’; ‘know where to strike’). Such
objective movements of violence and counterviolence can only strengthen the
ambient male norm and transform it into a social value. ‘I’d sure like to
experience that!’ say the newcomers, who have to become integrated and who understand
that the violence of the market also serves an initiation function. The
‘heady/destructive’ pair can also reflect a will to power, as when traders feel
or imagine that their moves can make the market itself move or change
significantly. It did occasionally happen that a sufficient number of independent
traders joined together to ‘push’ the market up or down after a moment of
relative price calm, flooding it with orders either to buy or sell. At such
times, they were openly pleased to have successfully, if only momentarily,
gotten on top of the ‘movement’ they had to confront and cope with in both real
and symbolic terms every day.
Such
counterviolence or will to power can also be observed when trading is
experienced as a kind of show-down with The Market, in which case it is
generally designated by means of the third-person singular pronoun il or more impersonally as ga (it or that). Here the
necessarily human relations that trading involves are effaced and an imaginary,
transcendental entity such as that presented in economic theory is constructed.
But in actors’ language, the market can also take on patently human (or
animal) characteristics: ‘The market is jumpy’; ‘It was healthier’; ‘It’s
barfing’.
General
formulas of this type may also be used to refer to institutional actors that,
while not physically present, ‘shape’ and ‘direct’ market orientations through
the buy and sell orders they transmit to the boxemen. This situation may also
give rise to indirect references to the Matif SA market and produce utterances
in which traders’ ambiguous, often resentment-charged relation with the
managing organization are symbolically staged, a relation which sometimes
resembles that between boss (Matif) and employees (market actors): ‘Matif...
was set up to serve the interests of the big French brokers... and it uses
them... When they can dip into the funds, they do so___ When they can get the
rules to
go in their favor, they apply them—that’s how I see it’ (IFT).
Lastly,
some traders manage to reappropriate market violence, to make hedonistic use of
sensations accompanying the emotions caused by it. This also means that there
are diverse sources and springs of professional identity. Hedonistic use of
violence may be likened to the uses made of the prestige linked to
performance-related emotions (see above). It too arises when professional
narcissism and the taste for competition are heightened and quickened.
But caution is in order
here. Just as sociologists speak of a ‘rationalization effect’ in the interview
context, so with market actors there may sometimes be a ‘hedonization effect’.
The ‘heady/destructive’ moments of their experience should be relativized,
situated in the long term of their professional trajectories, which obviously
do not consist in pure thrill, but a combination of thrill and routine.
Nonetheless, actors’ experience of these emotions, like their accounts of and
reminiscing about them, are an integral part of the appraisal, in symbolic
terms, that each of them makes of his social identity and/or the matter of
presenting self outside the market sphere.
The term spiel immediately establishes a
connection between certain phases of market action and emotions associated with
game-playing and gambling:
I’ve always spieled.. .on
the house account. The biggest thrill ever was when I did 40 000 contracts by
myself. You’ve gotta hold ’em, it’s like sports, you’ve gotta be there
physically, and that was my thing...[I discovered spieling] little by little,
with the strike force I had10... Because when you do orders there’re
always a few contracts left over, it never comes out just right, and those
extra contracts, you’ve either got to cut ’em 11 or handle ’em. And
little by little, well, the lure of profit, money, grows, and it made me spiel
a little to try to get back my losses, and that really pulled me into spieling
...You realize that our profession is a game in a way. In some way, it’s like a
casino...[Today,] the bigger the volume... the more it moves in all
directions, the happier I am. I really get off. It’s like when I was a broker,
the more they hit me over the head with orders, the happier I was. Like a
game...It’s a sport, too, because it’s physical. A job, yeah, it’s a job
because a job makes you a living. But I’d say, you know, it’s more a game. For
a guy like me who’s a gambler, it’s a feast...It’s kind of like roulette at the
casino, when you put your chip on a number and the wheel spins and it hits your
number—you get an adrenalin rush. I don’t get the rush when I initiate, but
right afterwards. It’s when I’m in ‘pose’ [position] and it moves with me—or in
the opposite direction. Win or lose. But the adrenalin rush comes then, when
I’m already in pose and it takes off, for me or against me. If it’s against
you, you need the adrenalin for handling the ‘pose’, you’ve gotta have a clear
head to get back in and try to bring it back to your prices. And when it rises,
it’s to try to bring it along with you, bring it into port. Then you say, hey,
it’s mine. It’s then, in fact. It’s not when you get in or when you get out,
it’s in between. (IFT on the Notionnel)
Using
Roger Cailloix’ categories for classifying games (1958), we can say that the
emotions described here bring together the principles and instincts of the agon characteristic of
competitive sport (‘it’s like sports, you’ve gotta be there physically’); alea or chance, as in gambling
(‘It’s kind of like roulette at the casino’); ilinx or the giddiness and intoxication
associated with the desired adrenalin rush but also with emotional ambivalence
(‘win or lose’); and even mimicry, if we think of the role-playing suggested
by the hesitation about personal identity reflected in the set of disparate
terms traders use to designate their occupation: ‘job’, ‘profession’, ‘a game’.
The
social effect of this type of emotion is less clear and more ambivalent than
for the other two, in that one characteristic of a ‘gambler’ is to be
egocentric and to fantasize being disconnected from the surrounding social
world. Obviously in the emotions described here, any sense of being disconnected
is quite fleeting. However, the speaker’s precision about the adrenalin- rush
experience suggests that despite the oversocialization of the place, market
action can generate a kind of violent—and very private—hedonism. The emphasis
on sensations, indeed microsensations, shows how important bodily engagement
and the heightening of the senses is in full professional engagement in the
market.
It
should be noted with regard to the gaming aspect, that trader hedonism is
particularly ambiguous and ambivalent: it may underline the exceptional nature
of what is experienced and strengthen professional identity, but it is also at
the core of ever-potential occupational destabilization.
The
aspects of market-actor experience constituted by performance and competition,
violence, and gaming can thus generate emotions with various, often convergent
social effects and meanings. Most importantly, they all show that market action
can have ‘other values’ or ‘rewards’ than directly economic ones, as Roy (1953)
showed for the context of industrial piecework, describing the private
strategies workers develop for meeting goals or production quotas, wherein they
experience ‘the pleasure of a game’. How closely can industrial piecework
constraints be compared with the constraint on traders to ‘produce’ futures
rates? Both worlds are subject to a pace set outside themselves. All traders,
salaried and independent, are affected by market volatility, and the pace and
volume of buying and selling orders produces strong constraints that, like
industrial piecework, give rise to selfcompensation strategies. These
strategies are brought to light by the various types of emotion.
For
those who are not eliminated from the trading-floor world by the pace and
strong emotions, the ‘heady’, ‘intense’, ‘real’ moments, including the most
aggressive and violent of them, can also be understood as a way of momentarily
turning the market’s function to other uses. It is significant that when traders
cease their activities, one of the things they say they miss most are the
moments of intense emotion. Indeed, acceding to such moments is often presented
as a kind of privilege, which suggests attribution of social value. For the
least educated, this ‘singularity’ fuels their sense of the unpredictability of
their social itinerary; they swing back and forth between a feeling of their
own audacity and a sense of illegitimacy, a pattern often found among
outsiders. For those with the most education, the relative social transgression
that such ‘freedoms’ represent also distinguishes them in their own eyes from
persons of the same generation who, after the same scholastic career, chose
more normed, predictable professions or occupations.
Rather
than indicating a way of using the passions that diverts or transforms them
into interests, traders’ behavior and experience suggests that they manage
interests through hedonistic use of the passions.
For Marcel
Mauss (1968 [1906]), the phenomena of acting in common and thinking in common
in shared time and space (particularly in religious rituals) can only be
explained by the existence of thought categories which, while not made
explicit, nonetheless guide consciousness and are constantly present in
language.
For my
part, I have tried to deduce from the subjective meaning that traders attribute
to their emotions some of the objective effects of those emotions in the social
space of the trading floor. To further the initial investigation into relations
between passions and interests, I will now try to identify categories of
indigenous emotion (or passion) along the lines of Hubert and Mauss’s
categories of indigenous thought. My hypothesis here is that on trading floors,
which can also be defined as a shared space and time, emotions can likewise be
seen (above and beyond their social effects) as the most spontaneous type of
individual symbolizing activity. To grasp the symbolic framework of market
passions, I shall first identify the most frequently occurring signifiers used
to express market emotions (Table 5.1).
Like the
contexts emotions emerge in (performance, violence, gaming, and gambling), the
boundaries of these lexical fields are not impermeable. Metaphor use here,
which both establishes a protective distance and works to appropriate market
action as a social activity, is not always limited to high- emotion situations,
and may be found at less than exceptional moments, where the metaphors used
have even stronger sexual connotations: ‘feel up’ or ‘stroke’ the market,
‘touch [= get] a contract’, be ‘in the air’,12 ‘screw an order’,
‘get the pussy’,13 ‘give the market a screw’. Also to describe more
routine market life, there is a series of metaphors related to eating—attack
‘la fourchette’,14 ‘the market is barfing’, etc.—together with
regular references to liquidity, which according to some symbolic grids goes
with sexuality or bodily intimacy. Jean-Frangois Barre (1991) has noted the
recurrence of such terms in international finance writing and suggested
possible symbolic meanings.
Though
the financial transactions market actors conduct are real and inscribed in
specific economic and social relations, could actors be said to momentarily
disconnect them from reality when they change the (signified) of a difficult or
perilous trade by using a signifier linked to a sports contest, a drive for
power, or sexual acts?15 The question is also raised by a comment
that came up in various forms in the interviews: ‘You can’t think about what
each trade represents financially...if you did, you couldn’t last’. This
suggests that the ‘distancing’ should be thought of as a kind of individual
self-regulation, one that can only benefit the market and the market managing
institution (Matif SA).
Passion
and emotion bring about symbolic productions necessary for coping with the
violence of the most extreme phases of market action
Table 5.1. The Panoply of Emotions
|
(temporal compression and
thus intensity of actions and risk, and unpredictable volatility). But the need
to symbolize is operative in everyday language also. Passions and emotions are
fully present at this level, too, and interest logic does business with the
symbolic logic of emotions.
As will
surely have been noticed, market actors do not use euphemisms when expressing
their emotions. They speak directly, boldly, do not mince words or water down
expressions, have little regard for the proprieties. Restrictive social norms
do not apply here and expression of the passions is an integral part of the
interpersonal and linguistic environment.
On Matif
trading floors in Paris and still today on the floors of Wall Street, the
Chicago Mercantile Exchange, and the Chicago Board of Trade, there are no real
sanctions or reprimands for externalizing feelings or showing aggressiveness
(Marks 1988; Abolafia 1996). When emotions lead to serious insults or, on very
rare occasions, physical aggression, these infractions are sanctioned by fines
or temporary suspensions, but in general, it is socially permissible to express
feelings. Here, sport (often evoked by actors to describe market social
relations) seems the only relevant area of comparison.
Given
the regulative frames for these activities, it would be too much to say that
emotional expression is pacified, as Norbert Elias (1994 [1939]) wrote of
sports arenas, conceived as pockets of tolerance and regulation within the
‘civilizing process’. Financial markets too would seem to be temporal and
spatial enclaves in which aggressiveness may be more freely expressed, spaces
where ‘discharge of affects’ and ‘the aggressive expression of pleasure’ (pp.
165-6) are not only allowed to develop and prosper but are socially valued. It
seems fair to think that an indirect effect of this is to personalize market
relations a bit further, even though such relations are reputed to be neutral.
In banks, for example, social relations are framed by reserve and discretion;
expression of emotion is censured, repressed, kept in check because considered
harmful to the proper functioning of this socioprofessional world. Why, then,
is expression of emotion more readily tolerated on trading floors?
One part
of the answer is that marking ‘interpersonal distance’ on the trading floor
may prove counterproductive (Hassoun 2000a, 2002). Familiarity (limited use of
polite expressions, generalized use of the familiar form, loud talking, etc.)
is the norm; otherwise the pace of market relations would slow and each trader
would have fewer trading partners. I used the term interpersonal liquidity to designate this relation
between daily trading volume and the interpersonal norms and know-how that
increase the likelihood of participants finding trading partners easily and
quickly. Interpersonal liquidity, then, is akin to the liquidity of financial
theory, an indigenous category evoked by traders not just regularly but almost
obsessively. In financial theory, liquidity is exclusively quantitative,
measured by volume of daily exchanges ensuring that investors will be able to
buy or sell a contract rather than getting stuck on the market without a
trading partner. Human relations in the pit have to be liquid too; that is,
smooth enough for transactions to take place with the least possible
disturbance or dysfunction.
Social
relations on the Matif floor not only had to be familiar and smooth- running,
but also had to be unstable; that is, capable of being made and unmade in an
instant so that others could be made, and thereby capable of following price
instability. The second normative injunction, then, the complement to interpersonal
liquidity, can be conceptualized as relational volatility. This notion is a
means of qualitatively assessing the tolerance of instability and dispersion so
beneficial to market relations in that it enables everyone to multiply market
opportunities as fast as possible. Relational volatility can be linked to the
financial notion of volatility used to assess and measure price instability and
spread. Along with the adjective liquid, the vol, as it is called, is part of the daily
linguistic environment, and is used even by actors who have only the vaguest
theoretical understanding of it.
Interpersonal
liquidity and relational volatility are two sides of the same sociological
coin. This somewhat paradoxical pair of normative injunctions— which says, in
essence, be on good terms with the greatest possible number of people without
being too closely tied to any of them—may be considered a sociological parallel
to the liquidity and volatility of financial theory. It is as though the
imperative to produce a high quantity of rates and trades in a short time had
produced its own social norms.
It is
within this framework that the relatively free and licit expression of emotion
becomes understandable. In the continual search for relational and
organizational efficiency, restricting expression of market-related affect
could clog up the works, as is shown by how hard it was for the Matif SA
throughout its history (1986-2000), and other organizers of open-outcry
markets throughout the world, to impose strict dress codes or behavioral norms
on members.
This is
a case of necessity determining the law (or norm), an idea which might in turn
explain why in economic practices as in sports there is a ‘controlled
decontrolling of affect’ (Elias and Dunning 1986). The market, seen here as a
social institution, could be said to tolerate and ‘accompany’ the expression of
market emotions in implicitly functionalist fashion. Because professionals are
able to let loose, they can handle the intense pace, liquidity volumes, and
high financial and social risk that are integral parts of their work.
In this context, the
passions and their expression are not transformed, nor do they evaporate.
Instead they are liberated, and integrated into the social norms constructed
and imposed by these markets. Like social relations, emotions need to be
relatively liquid and volatile, and expression of emotion relatively free and
unrestrained.
Given
the symbolic aspects and social and institutional uses of market emotion, the
Freudian notion of sublimation seems relevant. It should be applied with great
care, however. Freud specifies that in addition to modifying the object and
aim, sublimation is linked to social evaluation or effect. Economic
activities—in this case the series of market acts—are obviously not directly
connected to sexuality. But when they are a source of intense emotion, and even
when they are carried out more calmly and routinely, they are often spoken of
and symbolized in sexual terms, as shown. This justifies thinking that at least
one of their sources is related to sexual energy. The object has obviously been
modified, but the sublimation process seems incomplete because the vocabulary
used is explicitly sexual, while also having a variety of other connotations
such as physical confrontation and sports competition, these too possibly
related to libidinal energy. As for what Freud called ‘social evaluation’, it
is to be found in the uses that can be made of emotions that have been converted
into symbolic benefits (recognition and other narcissistic satisfactions,
status and territorial appropriation, influence and domination, etc.).
The
meaning and value of market emotions can also be grasped in the terms of
classic economic reasoning. The emotions that traders seek out and experience
could, it seems to me, be considered external to the primary goals of the
market in two ways: (1) market movements give the trader or speculator the
sought benefit of extreme emotions over and above (or next to or below) his
potential financial gains, and (2) the individual’s quest for emotion may
simultaneously provide financial-market managing institutions with increased
dynamism in terms of liquidity and volatility.
It is necessary to keep in
mind that on these markets, an increase in activity is always beneficial to
market managers because it generates business for them. The Matif SA actually
encouraged fits of activity by handing out bonuses (in the form of discounts on
every trade realized) and awards for best trader of the month. The winner’s
name was ritually announced over the microphone to the whole floor and the
award was accompanied with luxury gifts (champagne, expensive ties or scarves).
This attitude on the part of the market organizers corresponds to the behavior
of some independent traders who, with no precise strategy, bought and sold as
many contracts as possible, betting on the profitability of such frenetic
behavior but also looking for strong emotions. ‘Do the helicopter’, ‘turn
over’, or ‘grind out’ contracts are three expressions market members used to
qualify behavior they viewed as ‘extreme’ or ‘crazy’.
In seeking an answer to the
initial question, we should perhaps focus not on the transformation of passions
into interests, which from Montesquieu, concerned with society at large, to
Adam Smith directly concerned with the market, was presented as a virtue, but
rather on emotions conceived in terms of their differentiated yet intertwined
social and institutional uses. These may be situated on three levels or
identified as three ‘registers’ of market action, ranging from macro to micro:
1. The overall functioning of
the market, which burns or runs on the energy and apparent disorder of affect,
stimulating, making licit, and integrating emotions and various expressions of
them within the local normative framework that serves its informal regulation
system (market as social institution).
2. The social construction of
the professional market position, which requires a great number of distinctive
experiences and prestige accumulation, especially since it is itself not
firmly institutionalized. This includes phenomena of committing to memory and
valuing (professional self-affirmation on a social stage).
3. The symbolic and linguistic
productions necessary for taking on and appropriating the financial, social,
and symbolic risks particular to the speculative act (the market individual).
Each of
these levels or registers of action—institutional regulation and stimulation,
prestige accumulation, symbolization—are closely linked at one moment or
another to emotions. Some of their meanings or effects may be thought of as
false notes, gaps, or contradictions with regard to the canonical conception of
competitive markets. Indeed, such behavior (along with the personal
dispositions it is rooted in) may contradict some of the basic theoretical
principles of such markets. For example, the fact that the market managing
institution (in this case the Matif SA) stands to profit financially from
emotional excitement, and indeed at certain moments stimulates and rewards such
emotion, may produce high risk- taking behavior, a phenomena that contradicts
the theoretical claim that normal agents are risk-adverse. Similarly, the fact
that the professional construction of market actors involves prestige-seeking,
at least partially contradicts the theoretical atomized character of markets
according to which agents are detached during market action from all reference
to or dependence on a social group or symbolic reference. In other words, if
competition—i.e. succeeding against others within a regulated framework— is a
licit principle in economic theory, prestige-seeking would seem off topic for
such theory. Lastly, the idea of taking on the market or making it move (if only
for a moment) also clearly contradicts the market atomicity principle according
to which no actor is strong enough to have an impact on prices and volumes. At
times, one actor or group of actors is indeed strong enough.
But is
pointing out hiatuses between economic theory and social practice heuristically
effective? It would seem preferable to think of the market act microhistorically, in its
specific time frame; that is, as a (market) action that can be broken down into qualitatively
distinct but ultimately interdependent sequences (see the interview excerpt on
the adrenalin rush). Once the paradigm of historicity and/or microhistoricity
has been introduced, we see that the three comprehensive explanatory levels or
registers—which may be considered a three-part paradigm—suggest a melting of
emotion into economic action, action whose complexity cannot be grasped unless
we take into account the emotional tension consubtantial with it.
These three levels or
registers must be understood as linked if they are to explain both the repeated
production of emotions and the social licitness of expressing them in the ways
they are expressed. Taken together, they transcend common oppositions between
economic and social facts, between rational action in the pursuit of self-interest
and impassioned irrational action, generating instead an approach in terms of
‘total market action’ (along the lines of Mauss’s ‘total social fact’). Even if
market actors, like those in many other parts of the social world, generally
distrust emotion and say they try to hold it in check, citing either the
necessary, almost mythic cool of calculation, the need for discipline, or the
importance of ethics, such emotions are an integral part of trading-floor
activity. They are not marginal, nor do they constitute aporia. Normative
judgments of the type just cited can only make it difficult to take into
account the market action as a complex whole. This is what market actors seemed
to be saying in their own fashion when they laid claim to their role in
‘making’ the market and its history, including in that claim—while neither
dissolving or mythicizing them—the taste and in some cases the quest for
prowess, risk, and money. That triptych of values works to forge a kind of
ethos from which emotions are not absent and in which they may even be
practical and necessary.
1. Though the trading floors
of Paris and London no longer exist, open-outcry markets are of course still
in operation in New York and Chicago. I have chosen to keep the greater part of
this account and analysis in the present tense.
2. From 1986 to 2000, French
futures markets were officially managed by the Matif SA, identified as a
specialized financial institution (IFS). Its main shareholders were France’s
major banks and insurance companies. The Matif was a hybrid institution with
somewhat difficult-to-reconcile functions; it was both a for-profit service
provider materially running the market and charging brokerage firms a small fee
for each deal, and the institution charged with overseeing activity and
ensuring rule compliance. At the time, this configuration could be qualified as
a French particularity, since British and American exchanges were and continue
to be member- owned (the Liffe in London, the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT) or
Chicago Mercantile Exchange (CME)). Matif SA has since been absorbed by
Euronext, itself a publicly traded company.
3. Initiating means starting a
buying and selling cycle that invariably ends in exit from the market.
4. Futures contracts traded on
the Notionnel were composed of a basket of French government bonds. Volumes
were greatest here. With some awe, traders called it a market of ‘big ones’.
5. CAC 40 Futures: market for
futures contracts based on the CAC 40 (basket of forty weighted French firms
representative of the national economy). The Matif also managed the Paris
Interbank Offered Rate (Pibor), the interest rate futures market.
6.
30,000 francs = €4,573.17.
7.
As agitated as for market openings and closings.
8.
The tick (also oreille, ‘ear’, in French jargon) is the basic price
change unit. It was 1 franc (approximately €0.15).
9.
Long: selling.
10.
Strike force: number of futures contracts a salaried
broker was permitted to trade.
11.
Cut a contract: sell regardless of price bought at.
12.
‘S’envoyer en l’air’ is the equivalent of ‘screw’ or
‘have it off’.
13.
‘Avoir la chatte’ (= pussy)= ‘avoir de la chance’, be
lucky.
14.
Fourchette: the difference between asking and bidding
prices. The word also means fork.
15. ‘Fuck the market’, ‘get
fucked by the market’ are current expressions.
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