READY MONEY: TRADING SPACES

By Scott Burns.

Photography by Lisa Means, Getty Images.

In case you haven’t noticed, the symbols of affluence have changed. The long driveway is gone. So is the yacht anchored in the distance. Where big rooms and uncomfortable space between human beings once characterized affluence, today’s images emphasize the proximity of other people, the warmth of carefully selected crowds, and the joy of well-heeled throngs. The poor, meanwhile, have moved to the vast empty places that once symbolized affluence. We’ve done a societal "Trading Spaces," giving unlimited space to people with limited means while assigning comfort, warmth, and intimacy to the affluent.

There is a reason for this.

Only people who are affluent can afford the proximity of other people. In a world where progress and productivity are the same, it is inevitable that people will be separated by more and more capital. Without that capital, we don’t have productivity. Without productivity, we don’t have a rising standard of living.

The inevitable result?

The last 30 years have seen an incredible depopulation of commerce and service. Businesses have become more efficient. Just as an army of workers left the fields when agriculture was mechanized, an army of workers is "moving on" in retailing and service. Nothing will reverse this trend — so we should prepare ourselves for the new era. Call it "The Age of the Lonely Crowd and the Crowded Rich."

Here is some evidence:

• Only 30 years ago, as a columnist for Vogue magazine, I could describe the numerous benefits of small grocery stores that assemble and deliver orders of food. Today, few of those stores exist. The largest single food vendor is Wal-Mart, and supermarket chains are installing automated checkout stations. Recently, I’ve gone to supermarkets in both Dallas and Santa Fe, New Mexico, filled my cart, rung it up with an optical scanner, bagged it, and paid by credit card — all without human contact.

• Fewer than 30 years ago, pumping your own gas was unusual. In some states, it was illegal. Today, you pump your own gas. You pay by credit card at the pump. Indeed, the last time I actually went into a gas station I felt deeply inconvenienced.

• While I still deliver some deposits to a bank teller, my bank encourages me to stay away. Today, banking costs less if you promise you’ll never darken their premises. With automatic payroll deposits and ubiquitous ATMs, most banking can be done without bankers. This is particularly true for affluent people who routinely have credit lines larger than the average worker’s annual income.

• At Target, one of the gigantic warehouse stores that have supplanted department stores, you don’t find help. You call it by using phones placed around the store. Even these warehouse stores might be dinosaurs, however, given the continuing rise of Internet retailing.

It is now possible to conduct the business of daily life without ever speaking to another human being. For many — call them the children of Eleanor Rigby — this isn’t a choice. It’s a necessity — avoiding human contact is the only way to make a dollar go further.

But it’s also a way of life. At a Sam’s Club in glitzy far north Dallas, cases of Dom Perignon are a regular sale item. You will, however, have to carry it to your car.