Extending and distributing the self

Introduction

Russ Belk’s work has been extremely influential (Ladik et al., 2015). While there are some papers that engage with his ideas in detail, his 1988 manuscript on the extended self is frequently an ‘obligatory citation’ (Belk, 2024). Becoming an obligatory citation might be pleasing for a moment. It is, however, a hollow genuflection for those interested in seeing their work critically evaluated in order to vitalise alternative readings and new research trajectories (Belk, 1989). This special issue was stimulated by a scholar (Craig Thompson) who takes Russ’s arguments seriously, but not uncritically. In this introduction, I will outline some of the key elements in each contribution, without necessarily adhering to the publication order of the issue or reprising their narratives wholesale.

The original extended self article underlines that it draws upon a treasure trove of prior research from multiple disciplines (Belk, 1988). Russ’s project represented a monumental synthesis of scholarship traceable to William James (and the numerous sources that oriented James’ thinking), Erich Fromm, and Irving Goffman among many others who paid attention to the importance of possessions and symbolic consumption as a means of sustaining the self.

Collecting papers, scribbling notes, indexing ideas and themes, subsequently returning to the library and engaging with multi-disciplinary content that spoke to his emerging thematic, the process behind the production of the 1988 paper was iterative and extensive (Belk, 2002). Nevertheless, the paper commences with a modest acknowledgement that ‘The premise that we regard our possessions as parts of ourself is not new’ (Belk, 1988, p. 139).

Russ uses William James’s reflections as a springboard. James sketches multiple facets to the self, enfolding these into the ‘empirical self’. This is the ‘widest’ interpretation of self. Our ‘empirical self’ encompasses all aspects of self, experiences and possessions that we feel represent who we are (i.e. the ‘me’ aspects of self). It includes the ‘material self’, ‘social self’, the ‘spiritual self’ and what he labels ‘pure ego’ (James, 1890/1950). Throughout his explication of the relationships between these elements, James stresses their flexibility, uncertainty, and interconnected nature. Our self and many of the attributes we enact are firmly connected to the socio-historical context in which we exist (Leary, 1990).

As James remarks, the ‘self’ expands, contracts, absorbs and rejects the social and environmental influences which buffer it. It is a product of history and shaped by our interpretation of future possibilities that are conceptually played out in terms of a differentiation of actual (our present) and desired future selves (i.e. our potential ‘material’, ‘social’ or ‘spiritual’ self). The material self often – although not always – includes our body (cf. Kuruoglu, 2024). It is here that it becomes clear why James’ thought was so attractive for consumer researchers looking to promote the value of idiographic approaches. After the body, it is the clothes that we purchase and wear which facilitate identity construction. This is where Belk’s (1988) paper leaps into action, providing theoretical, conceptual and empirical content to outline a roadmap of how consumer researchers might explore the interconnections and interactive relationships between self, other people, pets, material possessions, and the extent to which we view our body as part of self.

James remarks that people readily consume clothing they appreciate. We perform a level of ‘foppery’ to secure the admiration of our peers. Self, then, reaches beyond the body, out into the world. The world, in turn, impacts on self as subject and object (see also Belk, 2024). As he puts it,

In its widest possible sense … a man’s Self [sic] is the sum total of all that he CAN call his, not only his body and psychic powers, but his clothes, and his house, his wife and children, his ancestors and friends, his reputation and works, his lands and horses, and yacht and bank-account. All these things give him the same emotions. If they wax and prosper, he feels triumphant; if they dwindle and die away, he feels cast down

(James, 1890/1950, p. 291; emphasis in original)

In no uncertain terms, James makes the point that when those close to us die, then an element of our self is annihilated unless we have, perhaps, some kind of belief in the survival thesis (i.e. a hoped-for afterlife). Belk (2024), for instance, indicates that the survival thesis remains a research question that consumer researchers might want to take more seriously, gesturing to James’ conception of the spiritual self in doing so.

The social self, by contrast, is oriented by our interactions with and the recognition received from different groups (see Hewer, 2022, 2024). It is constituted by a plurality of selves, subdivided according to the different impressions of our self that other people hold. To illumine this entity, James invokes a kind of market segmentation, positing that we present different selves to diverse groups. In a famous quotation, he maintains that ‘We do not show ourselves to our children as to our club-companions, to our customers as to the laborers we employ, to our own masters and employers as to our intimate friends. From this there results what practically is a division of the man into several selves; and this may be a discordant splitting’ (James, 1890/1950, p. 294).

The spiritual self, by contrast, represents an assemblage of our interests in intellectual, moral and religious self-development. It is our ‘inner being’ and the psychic constitution of the individual. These elements form the most ‘intimate’ aspects of self, our ‘stream of consciousness’, and the way we reflect upon and interpret the world. It is our sanctuary; the ‘citadel’ shielded from the wider environment. For James, our stream of consciousness in connection with the spiritual self is an anchor. Closely related are the ‘me’ aspects of self. As Russ points out in his commentary, both he and Craig are focusing on different aspects of the self. Thompson (2024a) hones in on the ‘I’ (i.e. the thinking self), while Russ underscores that his emphasis in the 1988 and later papers is mainly oriented towards the material and social selves in Jamesian terms. These ‘me’ aspects include possessions, family relations, and the social network aspects of our existence (i.e. ‘my’ possessions, ‘my’ daughter, ‘my’ wife, and so forth).

In this concentric interpretation of self, James is outlining a view of being that held out considerable opportunities for development. Allport (1961), for example, suggests, like James and the ‘early’ Russ, that the self is uncertain, sometimes fluctuating, even to the point of completely disappearing (cf. Ahuvia, 2005; Tian & Belk, 2005). At the same time, it operates as a placeholder for the ‘core in our being’ which people typically feel. In referring to the ‘extension of the self’, Allport pays attention to how we develop personal habits, interests, and commitments, with our social relationships (actual or anticipated) helping to drive our presentation of self. As emotional bonds are formed between individuals, the boundaries of the self are increasingly permeable, with other peoples’ interests and welfare sometimes taking precedence. According to Allport,

Possessions, friends, one’s own children, other children, cultural interests, abstract ideas, politics, hobbies, recreation, and most conspicuously of all, one’s work, all lead to the incorporation of interests once remote from the self into selfhood proper. What one loves becomes a part of him. And anything one can admire, feel sympathy for, appreciate, revere, deliberately imitate, or become unconsciously identified with, may become introjected into the personality, and remain ever after a vital part of it.

(Allport, 1937, p. 217; cf. Belk, 1989, p. 130)

In this way, ‘the self is extended’ with biological influences superseded by personal agency (Allport, 1937, p. 218); agency, which, in Belk’s (1988, 1989) hands, is not limited to the self but exerted by objects that can control the individual.

Importantly, Allport (1961) appreciates that the sense of self often expressed in the psychological literature was deeply inflected by Western views of human self-development. These were not universal. Cultural difference is expected (e.g. Allport, 1961, p. 116); an argument that Belk (1988, 1989, 2024) has taken seriously throughout his career and notes in his response to Craig via reference to the ‘dividual’. In doing so, Belk (2024) reminds us of our cultural baggage, whilst stressing the potentialities for people to transform themselves in quite radical directions using the growing range of enhancements coming into the marketplace (see also Tian & Belk, 2005).

For Russ, Artificial Intelligence is certainly going to impact our ontological horizons. Equally, he directs attention to transhuman frontiers. This references the viewpoint that the types of cognitive, emotional and physiognomic augmentation we have witnessed in the past are likely to be even more noteworthy going forward (e.g. Almeling, 2022; Takhar et al., 2022). As Russ elucidates, the opportunity to ‘use biochemicals, nanotechnology, prostheses, and neuro-enhancements’ is available provided we have the financial wherewithal to access these methods of distinction (Belk, 2024). In a tantalising remark, he gestures to the idea that his reflections on ‘postmortem identity construction’ (Bonsu & Belk, 2003, p. 42) can be deepened by probing whether the thinking ‘I’ self ‘really dies with the body’ (Belk, 2024). Are we about to see Russ shift his theoretical focus back to William James and immerse himself in the theoretical, conceptual and empirical reflections that probed the possibility of human survival? Will Russ be one of the first consumer researchers to provide evidence of a discarnate existence using the cross-correspondence methods associated with the membership of the Society for Psychical Research (Hamilton, 2017)? There’s certainly a sense that he’s gesturing beyond the bot technology explored in the latter part of his paper.

As will become clear to the reader, Thompson (2024a) focuses on the self, paying attention to the distinction between core and extended self. His argument is predicated on a belief that the macro-environment, in conjunction with expert discourses, and the limits of self-reflexivity, shape how we understand our self and others. What this means is that the idea of a central self as the energetic force which orchestrates its representation through various modes of self-presentation and extension needs revision in light of fast-moving developments in the digital realm.

Russ, as Craig unpacks, has modified the way he describes the self by taking account of recent theoretical innovations. Where there was once a dualistic interpretation of the self (i.e. with core and extended elements), Russ’s later work depicts the self as illusionary. Craig proposes that we take macro-forces and their impact on our perceptions seriously. They should be used to inform and orient our descriptions of consumers as embedded within and subject to manifold socio-technical influences. Essentially, the core self – a ‘heavy’ ontology according to Craig – has been replaced with a lighter ontological conceptualisation in which agency is not unilaterally tied to a central self, but influenced, amplified and shaped by socio-technical networks which impact human decision-making, perception and the limits of the world. Craig unravels theoretical threads that precognitively discerned subsequent empirical changes in the social landscape. This, in itself, reveals a certain degree of ontological contingency to be mobilised. There is a role for theoretical endeavours to anticipate, shape, react to, and prefigure, alternatives to the status quo (Casey & Tadajewski, 2023; Tadajewski, 2010a, 2010b). Even in the face of the recursive effects that C.T hypothesises, the nature of reality/being/becoming is never completely locked in.

The analysis is highly impressive, spotlighting Craig’s knowledge of contemporary social theory and the interpretive and Consumer Culture Theoretic (CCT) studies that scaffold the semiotic-socio-techno landscape he weaves. This said, perhaps there are dangers with taking the prognostications of futurists, theorists, lead users, and related figures too seriously. Preece and Rojas Gaviria (2024) think so. Is the world of cryptocurrency, distributed ledgers, and so forth really so impactful that it has the power to shape how we understand the world and our place within in it (cf. Martin et al., 2020)?

In taking Craig’s proposal that we theorise people as ‘distributed networks’ ‘whose life narratives function as ledgers’ seriously, we must ask, in turn, to what extent this reworks the self concept originally expressed by William James which underpins Russ’s own (early) work? Our discipline is replete with eras models, periodisation schemes, and schematics like Craig’s proposed Bauman-inspired praxeomorphic approach that should – fortuitously for academics looking for publications – be taken as an object of attention in their own right (e.g. Brown, 1996).

Belk (2024), usefully, makes a point that chimes with James’ original writing, especially his reflections on the hidden self (James, 1890), when the former states that taking the single self – a thinking subject (i.e. the ‘I’) – as axiomatic is contestable. This, in turn, raises questions about the locus of human cognition, reflection and action in the world. As Belk writes, ‘What we call “self” is really “selves”. Besides distributed selves and multiple selves shared between individuals, there are also multiple selves within individuals … Thompson seems unconcerned with multiple selves and the problems they create for an imperial individual self ontology’ (2024, p. 571).

Botez and Hietanen (2024) take an innovative glance at Craig’s proposal that we need to shift beyond the distinction between a core and extended self by appreciating that given recent technological developments, it has become even more apparent that the agentic assumption grounds permeating much CCT research looks questionable. In working with Craig’s analysis, they register that the individualistic, process-oriented nature of consumer selfhood has retained a tenacious foothold when much evidence problematises this viewpoint. They reach into the theological literature to scrutinise the assumption of a self as a central citadel in the world. Andrei and Joel aver that the technological landscape does not provide all of the conditions of possibility for the distributed self. Rather, by exploring the emergence of Christian theology and the belief systems that religious authorities were working against, we can see the hollowing out of the self much earlier (cf. Tadajewski, 2024).

Bettany and Coffin (2024) agree with Craig that marketing and consumer research needs to engage more actively with material-semiotic perspectives. They direct our attention to the importance of recalling the political intent driving the foundational work in this domain, especially that proffered by scholars with feminist commitments. In re-engaging with this scholarship and the political edge it urges, Shona and Jack want consumer researchers to envision themselves as less reactive to environmental changes, less defined by currently dominant praxeomorphic frames and more proactive. They demand that we help envision, affirm and create a world that values the actants that constitute it, rather than systemically undermining it via thoughtless, careless, vicious or masochistic ecocide.

Kuruoglu (2024), in a related vein to Shona and Jack, contends that the way we describe and engage with the world has its own political repercussions. My interpretation of Alev’s careful review of the feminist, materiality, and object-oriented literature is that they sensitise us to the point that no single ontology will fully describe the potentialities we can generate and unfold. For Alev, we are not necessarily more ‘distributed’ than has been the case before. Instead, we are more alert to the complex nature of our existence. This is because we have paid attention to views which were previously denied credibility, using these vocabularies and tools to identify, understand, and unpack our imbrication in intricate relations that should prevent us from falling back on tendentious dualistic thinking. In making a case that our ontological assumptions do matter in the sense of having a discernible politics, Alev examines a recent case to explicate how the way the self is enacted has dramatic effects. Put otherwise, Alev foregrounds the ontological politics ‘distributed’ throughout our research endeavours.

Hewer (2024) sheds light on Russ’ work to unpick how our reading strategies are often guided by the wider academic community and our current (and desired) place within it. To research in a manner commensurate with the tramlines of the titans offers scholars a fairly secure footing from which to launch and maintain their careers. They are probably likely to earn sufficient rewards via the status game of publication that their careers flourish and their bank accounts are refilled with regularity. Tramlines, however, can be dangerous. Our literature is founded upon some strong assumptions which do not secure sufficient critical interrogation. Do we all purchase goods to extend ourselves? Do possessions matter very much? Do the ways we frame consumer and consumption behaviour as reflecting a form of liquidity ring true? Is the heralding of access-based consumption an unalloyed benefit bringing with it reduced consumption, less environmental harm, and a greater level of distributive justice? Paul makes the compelling case that our discipline, its core debates, and intellectual figureheads are a reflection of history, political economics, institutional sedimentation, and misplaced optimism (see Hewer, 2022).

Paul usefully foregrounds that Russ makes reference to the unextended self (i.e. a more substantive core self will tend to require less material possessions as scaffolding). As Paul recognises, when we read, we generally notice those aspects of a paper that speak to our academic identity. On the other hand, there might be valuable lines of intellectual flight that could be taken which are currently elided or forgotten (cf. Tadajewski & Jones, 2021). What other concepts, theoretical insights or empirical turns have we ignored, neglected or jettisoned in pursuit of projects that fit comfortably with neoliberal, departmental, editorial or reviewer dictates (cf. Hewer, 2022)?

Preece and Rojas Gaviria (2024) take a slightly different tack to our other contributors. In some ways, Chloe and Pilar feel sympathy with Gordon Allport’s view that the self – especially the conscious self – is a pivot of human existence we cannot ignore. While they appreciate the rise of relational theorising, accept the notion that being and identity are processes, and signal their partial agreement with the impetus of flat ontologies, they nevertheless affirm that there is a danger we will jettison the conscious self to our theoretical and empirical detriment. Through attention to the conscious self, they contend, it becomes possible to distinguish the structural relations that privilege some and disadvantage others.

In partial contrast to Thompson (2024a) and in agreement with Shona, Jack, Paul, and Alev, as well as Andrei and Joel, Chloe and Pilar accentuate power relations that hamper existence. For example, contra Service-Dominant Logic and some variants of assemblage theory, they do not take equalised relations of self-constitution or consumerist co-construction as axiomatic (see also Denegri-Knott & Tadajewski, 2017). Relational and distributed accounts should not elide power relations. They must remain attentive to them. For Chloe and Pilar, this necessitates engagement with the subjective pivot that is our self; a self that is embedded, but not reducible to the networks through which it facilitates action in the lifeworld.

Eric Arnould (2024) focuses upon the connection Craig draws between the imagery of industrial production and how we comprehend the world. Certainly, Eric agrees, these analogies can help us make sense of lived experience. Equally, they direct attention away from literature incommensurable with the self-image our discipline seeks to project to external audiences. This can be compounded by ontological assumptions, epistemological convenience, methodological convention, and publication necessity. Importantly, Eric repeatedly refers to the fact that radical change is going to be the result of the climate crisis. He, like Paul, Shona, Jack, and Alev, calls attention to the conceptual, theoretical and methodological choices that are being made within consumer research (see also Arnould, 2022). Talking about digitalisation as forwarding a more liquid lifestyle may present marketing in a positive light. At the same time, it also puts the scholarly outputs of the discipline in a precarious position. Not only do the optimistic connotations ascribed to liquidity bear little resemblance to Bauman’s original writings, they also betray the selectivity of our discipline about the factors we take into account when promoting new concepts, ways of framing consumer behaviour and so on. Alternatives to the status quo are not only necessary. They are essential if we are to meet the radical changes that are coming whether we want them to or not.

Craig delivers a response to the foregoing commentaries. He calls attention to issues of continuity and discontinuity in theoretical reflections, emphasising that the affirmative themes of the extant literature, especially with respect to digital nomadism and liquidity, should not be accepted uncritically. This provides interested scholars with a project that can engage with the accounts penned by Andrei, Alev, Russ, Joel, Paul, Eric, Chloe and Pilar, as well as Craig’s genealogical study. It is time for us to examine whether the genealogy of marketing and consumer research on the nature of the self and its shifting representation can be more fully sketched. Thompson’s (2024b) response provides signposting in this regard. Likewise, the fact that a number of the commentaries tackle specific areas will hopefully provide the symbolic and epistemic weight for research projects that take these recommendations seriously.

After reading Craig’s initial commentary, all of the reflections and responses, as well as mulling over human finitude and the discarnate future that Russ hints at, it became apparent that I might offer some insights that deepen the discussion on the self presented by our esteemed contributors by engaging with the psychical literature, as well as issues of nonlocality, neurocapitalism, brain-computer interfaces, and the telepathic frontier (Tadajewski, 2024).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Mark Tadajewski

Mark Tadajewski is the editor of the Journal of Marketing Management.