There has been noted in every age a tendency to measure social preëminence
by the size and magnificence of the family abode. Mediaeval castles,
Venetian palaces, colonial mansions, all represented a form of social
importance, what Veblen has called conspicuous waste. This was largely
shown in maintaining a large retinue and in giving lavish entertainments.
The so-called patronage of the arts--furnishings, fabrics, pictures,
statues, valued to this day--came under the same head of rivalry in
expenditure.

In America a similar aspiration results in immense establishments far
beyond the needs of the immediate family. But, unlike society in the
middle ages, social aspiration does not stop short at a well-defined line.
In the modern state each level reaches up toward the next higher and,
failing to balance itself, drops into the abyss which never fills.

There is no contented layer of humanity to equalize the pressure; heads
and hands are thrust up through from below at every point. Democracy has
taken possession of the age and must be reckoned with on all sides.

At first sight sumptuous housing might seem to be the least objectionable
form of conspicuous waste. Safer than rich food, less wasteful than
gorgeous clothing, but, as Veblen truly says, "through discrimination in
favor of visible consumption it has come about that the domestic life of
most classes is relatively shabby. As a consequence people habitually
screen their private life from observation." This is from a different
motive than the instinct of privacy, of personal withdrawal for rest and
quiet. This shabby private life is why true hospitality is disappearing.
The chance guest is no longer welcome to the family table; we are ashamed
of our daily routine, or we have an idea that our fare is not worthy of