Copyright © 2011 SAGE Publications. Not for sale, reproduction, or distribution.
Gifts and Reciprocity
them to black areas or missed appointments or told
them that the properties had already been sold, while
telling the matched white actors that the properties
were still for sale. “Redlining” is another technique
found to be used by real estate agents. This involved
agents marking on a map areas (generally black)
within which neither mortgages nor home insurance
was available. In the first half of the twentieth century,
“block busting” was a technique used by unscrupulous agents to introduce blacks into all-white areas to
panic whites into cheap sales of their homes, which
the agents then sold to desperate blacks for a profit.
Work by Ingrid Gould Ellen has shown that there has
been a continuous increase in the number of mixed
tracts in the United States since the 1980s and that
examples of stable integrated tracts have been increasing. This is largely through the success of blacks being
able to move out of the ghetto. There is little evidence
of whites moving into or near the ghetto.
Ceri Peach
See also Ethnicity/Race; Geography; Inequalities; Poverty;
Social Exclusion; Spaces and Places; Urban Cultures
Further Readings
Ellen, Ingrid Gould. Sharing America’s Neighborhoods: The
Prospects for Stable Racial Integration. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Press, 2000
Massey, Douglas S., and Nancy A. Denton. American
Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993.
Park, Robert E. “The Urban Community as a Spatial
Pattern and a Moral Order.” In The Urban Community,
edited by Ernest W. Burgess, 3–18. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1926.
Philpott, Thomas. The Slum and the Ghetto: Neighborhood
Deterioration and Middle-Class Reform, Chicago,
1880–1930. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978.
Taeuber, Karl E, and Alma F. Taueber. “The Negro as an
Immigrant Group.” American Journal of Sociology 69,
no. 4 (1964): 374–382.
GIFTS
AND
RECIPROCITY
Long before objects were bought and sold, they were
given, circulated, and venerated. The intensely meaningful, demanding, and ambivalent nature of gift
exchange has long been recognized. In giving a gift, it
seems, we give a part of ourselves; something of our
657
emotions, hopes, and fears is embodied or carried
along in the giving of a gift. Further, the acceptance of
a gift, a remarkably formal process even today, somehow indebts and obligates the receiver, binding him or
her to reciprocate. Where giver and receiver are of similar standing or are relatively equal in power, gifts are
received with polite words of thanks, while the giver
will often “downplay” the act of giving with words
like “It isn’t much but . . . .” Where power relations are
deeply unequal, gifts are often given anonymously, as
in charitable acts, so that the giving does not humble or
obligate the receiver. In mythology, the generous giver
is sometimes masked, hooded, or exceptionally elusive so as not to confront the receiver with obligations.
For example, Robin Hood is an aristocrat who
appears poor and so may give to the poor as their
equal, while the figure of St. Nicholas/Santa Claus
“gives” without actually giving, or even existing,
and allows families to give generously but indirectly
through an enchanted medium. The children who
hope to receive presents from Santa Claus are obligated only by a vague, yet significant, request to “be
good” in a small reciprocation of Santa’s goodness.
Complexity of Gift Exchange
However, the force of reciprocity in gift giving is certainly not confined to mythical tales or what might
be thought of as “sentimental” occasions, such as
holidays and birthdays. The notion of give and take
and the “special” relationships this can generate
are central to the understanding of power, and of
political and military alliances. In the field of new
reproductive technologies, we speak of the giving or
donation of sperm and eggs; but where the individuals, biotechnology companies, or nation-states concerned seem to be acting solely in economic terms,
their activities are widely condemned and sometimes
judged illegal. In the realms of everyday leisure and
entertainment, the force of giving, sharing, and reciprocating is vitally important. What is given often
cannot be measured, certainly not by the abstract
system of money: when a friend cooks a meal for
you, the “value” of this act cannot be calculated in
terms of cost of ingredients, cost of heating and lighting, and cost of labor devoted to the production of
the meal. In reciprocation, you may cook a meal for
your friend, but you might do any number of other
things, such as listen to their troubles or forgive them
for their perceived role in a preceding event: persons,
Copyright © 2011 SAGE Publications. Not for sale, reproduction, or distribution.
658
Gifts and Reciprocity
objects, and feelings seem to merge or travel together
in gift exchange. The complexity and ambivalence
of these reciprocal relations seem to persist even in
the most high-tech forms of virtual social networking
where photos, videos, and stories are exchanged with
an expectation of reciprocation, though the sanctions
protecting this expectation are largely eliminated by
the distance afforded by the technological medium.
To what extent new technologies might curtail, transform, or even enhance moral relations of reciprocity
is a hotly contested issue that will motivate further
research in the humanities and social sciences.
In exchanging gifts, then, both parties seem to be
drawn into a process that is not reducible to the economic. Indeed, where the economic value of the gift
is low, negligible, or irrelevant, the emotional impact
of gift exchange may be at its highest—such as in the
giving of a kiss or the paying of a compliment. Most
forms of gift exchange involve an expectation or
even an obligation to “repay” the gift by reciprocation at some point in the future, but not immediately.
For example, if you buy a friend a birthday present,
you feel snubbed if he or she does not reciprocate at
your birthday: the person who has not reciprocated
may appear lesser, somehow drained of moral worth.
Yet we would undoubtedly feel very uncomfortable
if the birthday gift were reciprocated immediately; it
would be as if your act of gift giving was cancelled
out. The rule seems to be that if you receive, you
must give, appropriately and in turn. There is, then,
a moral or ethical dimension to gift exchange that is
fundamentally irreducible to economic calculation,
even as economic or financial value seems to dominate more and more aspects of modern life.
Approaches
The social meanings and consequences of gift
exchange have been studied by philosophers such
as Friedrich Nietzsche and Jacques Derrida; by sociologists and social anthropologists, notably Marcel
Mauss, Claude Lévi-Strauss, Jean Baudrillard, and
Pierre Bourdieu; by economists, theologians, and literary critics; and by feminist scholars such as Luce
Irigaray. Many of these thinkers approach gift giving
in the broadest possible sense, covering not only the
exchange of presents but also the gift of being itself:
the gift of being alive, of the giving of life in birth,
and the giving of death in sacrifice. For Nietzsche,
gift giving is the “highest virtue,” and many thinkers
have explored the ethics of gift giving, arguing, in different ways, that the gift exchange process involves,
implies, or points toward a form of ethical relatedness
that is vital for the well-being of individuals and society but that is, perhaps, being erased, forgotten, or
replaced by patriarchal, consumerist, and technological culture. Gift exchange, then, has been presented
as a radical alternative to dominant liberal capitalist
modes of economic exchange. Capitalist economic
exchange is based on utilitarian and financial calculation that measures all values in terms of an abstract
system of money—as general equivalent. The goal
is the continual accumulation of capital, owned or
invested privately. Gift exchange, by contrast, tends
to generate social obligations of collective reciprocity, responsibility, and ethical relatedness. Moreover,
these “values” cannot be measured or calculated in
terms of monetary equivalence because their meaning
cannot be separated from the acts of exchange themselves, which are often ambivalent and are bound to
a temporality that is alien to financial calculation, as
we observed in the case of birthday presents.
The earliest instances of gift exchange are drawn
from religion. The obligatory exchange of gifts,
sometimes in the form of sacrifice to gods, spirits, or
ancestors, was practiced widely in classical civilization and continued throughout Christian antiquity
and into medieval societies. Gift exchange ceremonies also feature prominently in the Vedic scriptures
of Hinduism and in ancient Chinese law. Though
not always obligatory, the tradition of almsgiving,
the donation of money, food, or other goods to the
poor or needy on request, are important components
of Christianity, Islam, and Sikhism. Gifts and sacrifices were, and still are, given to gods in the hope
or expectation of protection, favor, or intervention.
Further, gods give of themselves: they make sacrifices
and perform deeds that, in turn, obligate and indebt
worshippers, making demands on them in a reciprocal but radically unequal relationship. While many
gifts are expensive, none is as costly as a sacrifice: an
act of giving that gives life as a gift to the receiver and
“gives” death to the giver. Sacrificial giving remains a
vital component of many religions.
Contemporary academic interest in notions of gift
exchange can be traced to Mauss’s hugely influential
Essai sur le don (1924, translated as The Gift, 1990).
Mauss, following the work of Emile Durkheim (his
uncle and the founder of modern sociology), understood collective rituals of gift exchange as ancient and
Copyright © 2011 SAGE Publications. Not for sale, reproduction, or distribution.
Gifts and Reciprocity
near-universal expressions of social “effervescence,”
the very energy that binds society. Indeed, the social
circulation of gifts and services has been understood
as the foundation of human culture, as constitutive
of the incest taboo and practice of exogamy through
which women were circulated (as “gifts”) among
neighboring tribes, forging alliances, deterring war,
and preventing incest. For the influential French
feminist Luce Irigaray, this circulation of women,
as commodities rather than as gifts proper, she contends, constitutes the very foundation of patriarchy
and the exploitation of women and nature by men.
Gift exchange appears to forge social bonds by
generating and maintaining relations of obligatory
reciprocity between elements of the social system,
both intersocial and intrasocial, but these social relations are not equal or symmetrical. Mauss studied
the so-called totemic religions of aboriginal Australia,
Pacific East Asia, and northwest America, arguing
that gift exchange creates and sustains links throughout the “social totality,” not only between tribes and
clans but also between ideas: between sacred and profane, living and dead, persons and things. For Mauss,
gift exchange consists of three interlocking moments:
the obligation to give, the obligation to receive, and
the obligation to reciprocate. The ambivalent nature
of gift exchange, that it is both happy and festive
yet also demanding and solemn, is traced by Mauss
to the etymology of the word gift, which in Greek,
Latin, and German connotes not only a present or
offering but also poison.
Mauss suggests that ceremonies such as the
potlatch in North America and the Kula of the
Trobriand Islands were “both practical and mystical” (1990, 73). Participation is both “self-interested” and obligatory (not freely chosen). Social
hierarchy, honor, and prestige are at stake and are
contested. These are definitely not societies of communistic equality, Mauss asserts; nor is there a notion
of individual freedoms and rights that characterizes
modern capitalist societies. Wealth is circulated such
that the participants “did not emerge any richer than
before” (9), and, Mauss claims, there is no economic
advantage in the ceremonies even for the chiefs. The
gift objects are living wealth; they generate social
meaning and value, and this value actually increases
through the act of exchanging. These festivals, for
Mauss, demonstrate that the notion of credit and
loan predate the emergence of barter and money, so
the attempts of both liberal and Marxist thinkers to
659
understand the development of economy from barter to money to credit are, for Mauss, quite simply
wrong. As a result of these studies, Mauss proposed
a new social democratic program of welfare and a
general spirit of generosity distinct from either liberal capitalist or Marxist communist thinking. This
was to be fostered by a reformed education system
that Mauss hoped would heal modern societies damaged by war and egotistic individualism. However, as
pointed out by Lévi-Strauss, Mauss did not elaborate
on the power differences between members of the
tribes, or on the existence of slavery in such societies,
and has been much criticized for these omissions.
Mauss focused particularly on the potlatch ceremony practiced traditionally by First Nation peoples
of North America, such as the Tlingit and Haida.
Recognizing the imprecision and colonial history of
the term potlatch, Mauss proposes the term total
services and counter services (prestations et contreprestations totales) to describe systems of social
exchange that include the giving of presents but also
loans, entertainments, and hospitality in the widest
sense. The term potlatch Mauss reserved for “total services of an agonistic kind” with “very acute rivalry and
the destruction of wealth;” such ceremonies are “rare
but highly developed” (1990, 7). Among such tribes
there is, according to Mauss, honor in destruction; consumption, he suggests, goes “beyond all bounds. . . .
One must expend all that one has, keeping nothing
back. It is a competition to see who is richest and also
the most madly extravagant. Everything is based upon
the principles of antagonism and rivalry” (37).
The potlatch and its relationship to gift giving,
reciprocal social relations, and the possibilities for a
new or alternative ethics, have been explored by a
number of influential thinkers. For Georges Bataille,
dissident French Surrealist and influential theorist
of “excess,” the potlatch was a form of “unproductive expenditure” (dépense). Potlatch ceremonies,
Bataille declares, provoked intoxication, vertigo, and
ecstasy; they had “no end beyond themselves” and
fundamentally excluded bargaining and calculation
in an open destruction of wealth (1985, 118). The
destruction or consumption of wealth had a purpose,
however—to defy, humiliate, and obligate a rival
clan in a contest for honor or prestige. Honor itself
is not a commodity, and the value it possesses cannot be bought or accumulated. In contrast, modern
consumer capitalism, for Bataille, is an impoverished
social system where “everything that was generous,
Copyright © 2011 SAGE Publications. Not for sale, reproduction, or distribution.
660
Gifts and Reciprocity
orgiastic and excessive has disappeared” (124). For
Bataille, the rapturous collective effusion of potlatch
suggests an alternative ethical relation might be
possible in modern Western societies. For Bataille,
violence is an inevitable and constitutive feature of
any society, and he hoped that violence might be
dramatized and expressed in ritual form, rather than
“accumulating” or festering into the hatred that promotes war. The very destructiveness of potlatch illustrates that there are values higher than commercial
and rational calculation. In potlatch-like rituals, even
the separateness of individual identities—for Bataille,
the condition of narrow and calculative behavior—
might be swept away in a convulsive moment. Like
Mauss, Bataille supported increased welfare and aid
spending such as the U.S. Marshall Plan as a form of
gift giving vital for postwar reconstruction.
The controversial work of Baudrillard offers one
of the fullest explorations of gift and reciprocity
in contemporary consumer societies. Baudrillard,
deeply influenced by both Mauss and Bataille, argues
that consumer societies can be understood in terms
of a gift, or potlatch, given by society to individual
consumers that cannot be reciprocated and thereby
humbles and obligates. In consumer societies,
Baudrillard argues, “the commodity becomes once
again . . . by virtue of its very excess the image of
the gift, and of the inexhaustible and spectacular
prodigality which characterises the feast” (1998, 33).
For Baudrillard, like Bataille, consumer societies are
societies of waste and violence. Examples related by
Baudrillard include war and automobile crashes;
even advertising and celebrity culture possess “the
whiff of potlatch.” However,
the essential difference is that, in our current system,
this spectacular squandering no longer has the
crucial symbolic and collective significance it could
assume in primitive feasting and potlatch. This
prestigious consummation . . . has been “personalised”
and mass-mediated. Its function is to provide the
economic stimulus for mass consumption. (46)
For Baudrillard, even the violence of 9/11 can be
understood as a violent countergift, an attempt to pay
back the West with interest for its ambivalent gifts of
consumer goods, democracy, and sexual liberation—
images, “signs,” or “simulations” of freedom.
Derrida also engages in a reading of Mauss and
gift exchange, focusing on the temporality of the gift:
the interval or term between the moment of giving
and the moment of reciprocation. Derrida argues
that the gift, at least as present or simple act of generosity, can never take place, precisely because of the
ambivalence of the process: that giver and receiver are
all too aware that a gift is given and that something
is owed. The exchange of gifts is, strictly speaking,
impossible because the notion of exchange undermines the possibility of a gift being a gift. However,
this very impossibility suggests, for Derrida, a form
of ethical relatedness that exceeds or escapes the
ambivalent logic of gift exchange. As an exemplar,
Derrida (1995) discusses the Old Testament story
of Abraham, on whom God (Yahweh) has placed
the terrible demand that he sacrifice his eldest son
Isaac. Abraham must give what he values above all
else; he must violate his instincts and social morality
by making the ultimate sacrifice. Only in accepting
God’s demand is he released from the demand, and
for reasons he cannot fathom. In this story, Derrida
finds a basis for an alternative ethics, one that
reaches beyond reason and calculation. Following
the philosophy of Emmanuel Lévinas, Derrida writes
of “the absolute other,” of a uniqueness and incomparable singularity beyond language, beyond definition, beyond calculation. For Lévinas, this absolute
other is God. However, for Derrida, we are all, in our
unique and fundamental singularity, absolute other
to and for each other. We are all capable of absolute
sacrifice in an uncalculating ethical response to the
demands of the absolute other. According to Derrida,
only the gift of death that is sacrifice, the sacrifices
involved in giving birth, and the openness to absolute
otherness are truly disinterested and suggest an ethics
untainted by the calculation of a return or reward.
Final Thoughts
Whether or not we accept that gift exchange embodies or suggests a radical difference from and alternative to the institutions, assumptions, and goals of
capitalist market society, strong social and interpersonal bonds are forged by gift exchange, bonds that
exceed legalistic notions of contract or of economic
interdependence. Yet these bonds are ambivalent and
intensely volatile; they offer no simple solution or
panacea for modern, marketized, and technological
societies that, for many, lack sufficiently strong ethical
and social bonds.
William Pawlett
See also Christmas; Friendship; Money; Moralities;
Potlatch; Rituals; Sacred and Profane; Value: Exchange
and Use Value
Copyright © 2011 SAGE Publications. Not for sale, reproduction, or distribution.
Glastonbury/Woodstock
Further Readings
Bataille, Georges. “The Notion of Expenditure.” In Visions
of Excess, edited by Allan Stoekl, Carl R. Lovitt, and
Donald M. Leslie Jr., 116–129. Minneapolis: University
of Minnesota Press, 1985.
Baudrillard, Jean. The Consumer Society: Myths and
Structures. London: Sage, 1998.
Baudrillard, Jean. The Spirit of Terrorism and Other
Essays. London: Verso, 2002.
Derrida, Jacques. Given Time: Counterfeit Money.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.
Derrida, Jacques. The Gift of Death. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1995.
Irigaray, Luce. This Sex Which Is Not One. Ithaca, NY:
Cornell University Press, 1985
Lévi-Strauss, Claude. Introduction to the Work of Marcel
Mauss. London: Routledge, 1987.
Mauss, Marcel. The Gift: The Form and Reason for
Exchange in Archaic Societies. London: Routledge,
1990. First published 1924.
Weber, Max. Economy and Society. Vol. 1, An Outline of
Interpretive Sociology. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1968.
GLASTONBURY/WOODSTOCK
Glastonbury and Woodstock are open-air music festivals whose musical and ideological influence have
shaped the last four decades of youth culture in the
United Kingdom, the United States, and beyond.
For many, Woodstock represents the archetype of
the countercultural youth movements of the 1960s,
a music festival that defined a generation. Similarly,
Glastonbury is seen as the United Kingdom’s music
festival par excellence, one that has defined the representation and reception of rock in the United
Kingdom and further afield. While there is truth in
both of these stereotypes, their iconic statuses mask
their less straightforward origins and evolution. The
festivals also subvert some of the earlier orthodoxies
of the hegemony of a consumer society and the globalization of taste, both in their cultural content and in
their ideals and close links to countercultural groups.
Brief Histories of the Festivals
Running August 15–18, 1969, the Woodstock
Aquarian Music and Art Fair was not the first festival to bring together diverse publics and the drug
cultures of the 1960s around music. Earlier, more
musically focused examples like the Newport Jazz
661
and Folk festivals, which began in the 1950s, met
a more psychedelic audience of 60,000 at the time
of the first Monterey International Pop Festival in
June 1967, the so-called Summer of Love. A new
audience was clearly out there, but it was not until
the summer of 1969 that the ideals with which
Woodstock is associated—in particular, opposition
to the Vietnam War—began to resonate throughout
the United States. A mixture of good luck and bad
planning helped the festival become the long weekend that defined a decade: beset by practical difficulties and local opposition, Woodstock moved from its
original planned location near Wallkill, New York,
to Max Yasgur’s farm in Bethel via the local intermediary of Elliot Tiber, whose role in the festival is
explored in Ang Lee’s 2009 film Taking Woodstock.
Tiber aided the festival’s organizers, Michael Lang
and Artie Kornfeld, who set up the festival with the
financial backing of two young New York investors
interested in novel opportunities. A financial disaster,
the festival’s reputation and almost mythical status
grew after the event not only through the documentary film made by Michael Wadleigh, a triple LP, but
also because the homicide, accidental deaths, and
negative atmosphere of the Rolling Stones concert
at Altamont Speedway in California on December 6
of the same year represented Woodstock’s antithesis.
The failure of the two subsequent twenty-fifth and
thirtieth anniversary Woodstocks to repeat the original’s successes further mythologized the event.
Glastonbury Festival was founded by Somerset
farmer Michael Eavis, on his farm at Pilton, near
Glastonbury, United Kingdom, in 1970. From
that first edition, known as the Pilton Pop Festival,
through the few 1970s editions when it was known
as the Glastonbury Fayre, the festival drew increasing
public interest as its artistic importance developed.
Compared to events like the 1970 Isle of Wight festival, which attracted between 500,000 and 700,000,
Glastonbury’s first 1970 audience of 1,500 was tiny.
Though restricted by council licensing, up until 2002,
official audience numbers were swelled each year by
large numbers of people seeking free entry, many of
whom belonged to Britain’s countercultural community who saw the festival as an essential fixture
in their calendar, not least because of the festival’s
timing around the summer solstice and its location
in the mystical Vale of Avalon. Still modestly sized
in 1981, when 18,000 attended what was known as
the Glastonbury Festival, by 1990, when it took on
the name of Glastonbury Festival for Contemporary