6.1.
Introduction
The following discussion identifies the first of four money narrative types drawn from participant categories. In this case, middle-income participants broadly testify to a money narrative that describes „good‟ in generalised terms, to the exclusion of competing moral claims. This narrative also relates more broadly to existing
sociological literature, addressing for example the disconnection between private and public spheres, and constraints to the nature of the „reflexive self‟ in contemporary society.
6.2.
Utilising narrative
Narratives are a primary linguistic vehicle though which people grasp the meaning of lived experience by configuring and reconfiguring past
experience in ongoing stories that have certain plots or directions and which guide the interpretation of those experiences. (Yamane 2000: 183)
In order to explore the meaning of money in participants‟ experiences, it is helpful to analyse how participants „story‟ or configure their experiences of money in narratives. To paraphrase Taylor, to be human is to take a stance towards a particular concept/s of „good‟. To orient oneself as such is to place oneself in relation to the „good‟ and seek to direct one‟s life actions and being towards it. The temporality and process inherent in this quest aids towards an understanding of self in terms of story, or narrative (Taylor 1989: 52). Smith also describes the relationship between moral orientations and narrative:
…the larger cultural frameworks within which the morally oriented beleivings of the human animal make sense are most deeply narrative in form. We are the makers, tellers, and believers of narrative construals of existence and history, every bit as much as our forebears at any other time in human history. Furthermore, we are not only animals who make stories but
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also animals who are made by our stories. We tell and retell narratives that themselves come fundamentally to constitute and direct our lives. We thus cannot live without stories, big stories finally, to tell us what is real and significant and to know who we are, where we are, what we are doing, and why. Narrative is our most elemental human genre of communication and meaning-making, an essential way of framing the order and purpose of reality. (Smith 2003: 151-2)
While the risk in creating narrative types is to adopt yet another generalising view of someone‟s „story‟, the beauty of narrative telling, writes Arthur W. Frank (1995) in his account of illness stories, is about listening. Narrative encourages a close attention to participants‟ stories, because stories always „mix and weave different narrative threads‟. Offering narratives is a means to „sort out those threads‟ (Frank 1995: 76).
The inclusion of a narrative type for middle-income participants does not devalue the particularity or originality of their stories (Frank 1995: 76); rather it suggests that the way a participant reflects upon and stories the meaning of money shares important and dominant aspects of meaning with other participants in the category. Participant stories are not limited to one narrative type either. Other narratives, whether outlined later in the thesis or too idiosyncratic to outline at all, constantly weave their way through the dominant narrative, and this will become clearer in later discussions. However, drawn from the data analysis above this discussion suggests a narrative type that all middle-income participants‟ stories in varying degrees can be aligned with - the „dominant‟ money narrative.
6.3.
The dominant money narrative
6.3.1.
Narrative indicators
The dominant money narrative is recognisable through a number of important indicators. First, it is a narrative that is shared by all middle-income participants through a clear set of markers flagging the importance of money in life. Second, it is a transparent storyline about money that pulses with a sense of movement towards the future: „this is where I am now; this is where I am going‟. Third, the storyline is
145 explained in subjective terms and also referenced socially. Fourth, the narrative also includes particular languages of inclusion and exclusion, and there are recognizable limits to the shared languages of money. Fifth, the dominant narrative is inextricably linked to the „self‟. Finally, the dominant money narrative reflects a privileged cultural narrative against which all narratives measure, middle-income or otherwise. First, the dominant narrative highlights a shared story flagging a clear orientation towards the centrality of money to a „good‟ life. As evidenced in the middle-income data, descriptions of money include multiple aspects of life across a broad spectrum of experiences. Clear markers help delineate how these aspects of life involve the centrality of money to work, rest and play. For example, work provides a primary means through which money is made available and is central to a dominant money narrative. Whether work is self-fulfilling or merely a means to earn an income, the centrality of work as a stepping-stone to financial independence is central to the dominant narrative. The way „rest‟ is described is another marker: in terms of comfort, enabled by money. The qualitative and quantitative goals of a comfortable home and sufficient provisions for family life and the needs of everyday living feature strongly in what money means in this narrative. Leisure, or „play‟ is a third marker. Leisure is strongly oriented towards lifestyle goals, including travel and holidays, social events and activities, and ownership of leisure-related goods such as shacks or boats. Consequently, three of the most central and broadly defined elements of lived experience in western culture (work, rest and play) are marked as available primarily through money in the dominant narrative.
Second, the dominant money narrative follows a storyline built around a sense of continuity and forward movement. The data shows that in multiple ways, having money lends availability toward conceiving of future possibilities. Whichever of Brannen and Nilsens‟ (2002) model participants follow in thinking about the future (deferment, adaptability or predictability), their futures are positive ones, envisaged in reference to financial self-reliance. Some participants have clear future goals (e.g. an early retirement or owning a home), other‟s futures are „fuzzy‟ or not clearly defined (having financial security or living comfortably), but all feel they are travelling in one direction - towards the future. There are few interruptions to this storyline, just a continuous sense of movement, and central to that movement is the availability of
146 money. In other words, in part, the meaning of money is centrally implicated in their orientation towards the future.
Third, the dominant money narrative draws upon a number of sources. While there is an overwhelmingly „instinctive‟ nature to the narrative (Frank 1995: 78) – for
example, participants primarily talk about their desires for money as if those desires are quite natural – they also reference some social sources. In particular, participants‟ refer to perceived familial expectations of earning capacity or career path, or the felt pressure to buy a home, invest money, or travel overseas because their peers or colleagues have already done so. As well as carrying their „own‟ monetary
expectations, many also sense a social expectation to become more orientated towards financial acquisition.
The dominant money narrative also draws on particular „languages‟ to articulate money meanings. Some of these have already been flagged. For example, there is a future-oriented language denoting a forward direction and sense of continuous movement, within which the language of „hope‟ and „expectation‟ is found. In addition, a „self‟ language draws on references to financial autonomy, control, independence, security and self-reliance. Finally, the language of money as „good‟ is described in multiple ways: as goal achievement, success, comfort, opportunity, happiness, leisure and pleasure, quality of life and because of the choice that money provides.
Moreover, language found in the dominant money narrative also draws on narratives outside itself, which act as reminders that the dominant narrative is more attractive than others. For example, participants refer to alternative money orientations such as financial stress and the worry related to not having money as a state to be actively avoided. The language is highly negative in tone (e.g. „awful‟, „stressful‟, „rough‟, „anxiety‟, „depressing‟, „a source of unhappiness‟ to name a few), and is described as a circumstance to be actively orientated away from, in the same way that an illness might be spoken about in a society that privileges being healthy. Consequently, in this money narrative, personal financial difficulty or debt is not a legitimate part of the dominant story.
147 Furthermore, if the dominant money narrative includes particular sets of languages to describe which money orientations are legitimate or not, it also excludes other languages. The narrative metaphors already described relate primarily to personal money, where an orientation towards personal money is a legitimate personal and perceived social expectation. On the other hand, a dominant money narrative articulates public monies in terms of social (political or moral) dilemmas warranting social solutions. In this narrative, there is a general and marked inarticulateness and feeling of being „lost for words‟ when personal responses are required for social outcomes. While a dominant money narrative has strong orientations toward personal money, it is limited in the language of articulating how money relates to the „self‟ outside the personal sphere.
Fifth, the dominant money narrative is specifically related to the „self‟. It is best articulated through „self‟ language: the importance of financial self-reliance; the necessities and lifestyle goals enabled through financial self-reliance, as well as the goal of economic security requiring financial autonomy. In other words, the
dominant money narrative stresses the importance of „my own‟ money: for Edgar, it is financial independence that he seeks at this point in life. It also highlights the centrality of money to self-identity in this narrative. For example, having „my own‟ money bespeaks a sense of ownership and claim over money, and because money offers some future security and certainty in this narrative, it has also been shown to provide a sense of clarity in self-definition and future-direction.
In summary, the dominant money narrative is thus the storying of how money has a central place in what it means to live a „good‟ life. In this narrative, money is itself a primary „good‟. Personal storying winds its way around the place of money through the everyday requirements and desires of a good life, the daily activities found in a good life, and through the continuous thread of money‟s existence in the history, present and future of a „good life‟. The dominant money narrative flows. There is a sense of forward movement giving meaning and purpose to the present: Saskya lives to travel and envisages her future as a series of overseas experiences facilitated by her skills and ability to earn. Money meanings even flow beyond personal futures: Mike is working towards an early retirement and the future opportunities his earnings will provide for his children are part of his present financial reasoning.
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