content analysis

I’m not convinced of either the widespread interest or the sociological value of this story, but it’s too damn interesting to me to not mention it here. Several weeks ago, Henry Abbott, the author of the NBA-focused blog True Hoop, writing under feverish conditions, suggested that The Cheesecake Factory was the favorite restaurant of NBA players. He writes,

[NBA players] talk about a massive spectrum of things, of course, from AAU to Zydrunas Ilgauskas. But sprinkled in there among the things players talk most frequently — you hear it again and again — is the Cheesecake Factory.

Nowadays, if ever someone tells me that they bumped into an NBA player out in public, I like to stop them mid-sentence and guess: “Was it at the Cheesecake Factory?” It can make you look like a freaking genius, because once in a while, you’ll be right.

For those of who not in the know, TCF is a vaguely upscale chain restaurant (heavy silverware, lots of buffalo sauce; entrees run about $14-$28). Abbott hypothesized there were main reasons for the popularity of TCF among players. The first two sound very much like Weber by way of George Ritzer’s McDonaldization of Society: a) standardized products and b) enormous portions. While Ritzer points to the larger trend of emphasizing quantity over quality, the need for huge portion is particularly important for NBA players with high metabolisms and big appetites. Secondly, much like traveling businesspeople, players who regularly spend time in unfamiliar cities, it is nice to find a predictable meal. The third reason — most surprising to me — was that many NBA players are on a budget (say, $100/day), having wisely linked up with money managers. Ordering room service at the hotel would easily push them over their budgets. This week, Henry provided an update, saying that he’d heard more response from that post than any other. E-mails and phone calls poured in from fans, journalists, and players confirming his observation.

This whole discussion put me in mind of Bourdieu’s fantastic charts in Distinction (which I couldn’t find a good reproduction of on the Internets). To simplify, he claims that the lived experience of class is structured by three forms of symbolic capital (which are both created by people, but also impose themselves on people): a) economic capital ($, cash money), b) social capital (social networks), and c) cultural capital (tastes, values, skills, knowledge, and so on). Thus, by knowing about the total amount of capital an individual has and the balance of it between the various forms of capital, we can predict something about not only her/his occupation, but also tastes in entertainment, food, cars, etc. Or as it actually works in life, from people’s tastes, choices, and behaviors, we can tell much about what class space they occupy.

Thinking about NBA players, they are very high on economic capital (although probably not as high as some captains of industry), but often not particularly high on cultural capital (despite being college graduates for the most part). In many ways, they occupy the opposite end of the chart (moving horizontally) than college professors, who are presumably very high on cultural capital, but moderate to low on economic capital. So, while college professors enjoy their wine (in the correct glass), farmer’s markets, and Beatles albums, NBA players tend toward Cadillac Escalades, Hollywood blockbusters on their portable DVD players, and, yes, The Cheesecake Factory.

Probably not a stunning revelation, but here’s what’s interesting: it strikes me that we often see class primarily through the lens of cultural capital, but that economic capital has far greater capacity to make one truly elite. A young college professor making even mid-40s might be seen as upper middle class. Yet, NBA players, though often lacking in cultural capital, are far more elite. They are far more sheltered from the general population. Blogs on the internet spend time thinking about where they eat. Let’s put it this way. Who would you rather meet: a) the most famous living sociologist (e.g., Peter Berger, Doug Massey, Dalton Conley, Eric Klinenberg?), or b) an even moderate NBA star (e.g., Tony Parker, Lamar Odom, Greg Oden)? Nevermind LeBron or Kobe, it would be far more exciting to meet any NBA player (no offense to famous sociologists). But even as removed as NBA players are, their culture tastes make them more accessible than those of cultural elites (i.e., you’re more likely to meet Kobe at TCF than Peter Berger).

I’d love to have some more comments, so if I’m totally missing the boat on class here, please let me know.