Global Connections

It is just over a week since Steve Jobs died, but on Etsy, a website for crafters to sell their creations, there are already 185 Jobs-related items for sale. At least 70% of those items were listed for sale since his death. On Facebook, one of my contacts remarked that he intends to get a black turtleneck in Jobs’ memory. My friend was not alone; an article on PCMag.com reported that Steve Jobs’ black turtlenecks have had a huge surge in sales. Headlines dredged up from Google also mentioned that Jobs’ biography has been a hot item over the past few days and cynics predicted accurately that the iPhone 4S, which launched to lukewarm reception just the day before Jobs’ demise, will enjoy a sales boost. 
 

All this buzz has not been unexpected and indeed, many of us saw it coming. After all, had we not seen a similar trend with other well-loved celebrities? Within a week of Michael Jackson’s death, 422,000 copies of his albums were sold and more recently, when Amy Winehouse passed away in July 2011, 50,000 of her CDs were sold in the week that followed. The day that crocodile hunter, Steve Irwin, died, “eBay was auctioning off t-shirts, mugs, and other memorabilia”, reports Margaret Gibson in her academic paper on public mourning of celebrity deaths. Posthumous success is a phenomenon ingrained into our culture, as The Band Perry sings, “A penny for my thoughts - oh no, I’ll sell them for a dollar; they’re worth so much more after I’m a goner” in their hit song, If I Die Young.
 

So what is it that compels us to part with hard-earned currency upon the death of a celebrity we only know from afar? In one word, the answer to that question is ‘influence’ – more aptly, media influence.
 

Wall Street Journal writer, Terry Teachout, muses upon posthumous success of creative artistes and comments that obituaries summarize achievements, reminding us of their works which we have come to take for granted. Their deaths also bring about what he calls a “scarcity effect” as we realize they can no longer produce new works. Another perspective is offered by Steve Jones and Joli Jensen in their book entitled “Afterlife as Afterimage: Understanding Posthumous Fame“ (2005). Like Teachout, Jones and Jensen cited the role of the media, seeing it as attempting to locate and profit from the celebrity process. To the authors, posthumous fame is seen as analogous to religious fervour, in that commodified dead celebrities are akin to sacred figures, and merchandise and memorabilia are like relics to be collected.
 

In Jobs’ case, both theories apply. Media coverage calls to attention the ups and downs of his life, discussing his perseverance in the face of adversity. Some listed the many patents that are under his name and some reminded us how different the world would be without his influence. The narrative offered us in the media is that Jobs is an inspirational figure, a hero and a role model whose passing many mourn after. As cultural historian Leo Braudy has said, “the real definition of fame is memory” and an easy way to remember Jobs’ life is to own something associated with him. Would that not be reason enough to pick up the new iPhone 4S as many have done? I reckon it would if some of Jobs’ perseverance and ingenuity would flow into our ears through our iPods, seep into our fingertips on our iPads, or do both on our iPhones. As the saying goes: there’s only one way to find out.
 

Image (my tribute #1 to steve jobs) courtesy of Ioran on Flickr under CC Attributions Licensing.