The result of neoliberal market over consumption is cultural debasement

– In a society like Iran, what is the definition of the middle class, and how does this definition differ from that of other parts of the world?

The term “middle class” is used more frequently in general contexts, such as media discourse, or with specific economic connotations. However, from a socio-cultural perspective, if we wish to move beyond a broad and vague discussion, we need to define it more precisely. American sociologists in the mid-20th century, focusing mainly on their own society, defined the middle class based on economic income. They believed that this class should be the largest in society in order to achieve social equilibrium. According to them, individuals in the lower class—at least those in its upper income strata—should always have the hope of upward mobility into the middle class. Similarly, members of the middle class should aspire to move up, potentially into the upper class. Nevertheless, these scholars also acknowledged that the middle class could not be sustained without government policy aimed at redistributing public wealth. This was why President Roosevelt’s New Deal played a pivotal role in building the American middle class after the economic crisis of the 1930s and during World War II. These policies continued in a similar fashion into the 1950s. This model later inspired European welfare state structures in the post-war period.

However, since the 1980s, with the rise of economic neoliberalism in developed countries—and authoritarian regimes in the Global South that also adopted neoliberal policies, thereby minimizing the role of the state in improving public welfare—the global middle class has been steadily weakening. In Bourdieu’s sociology, the focus shifts from the general concept of “class” to that of “socio-professional class,” which is a more precise categorization. He rejected both the American sociological model of class (upper, middle, and lower classes, each subdivided into upper, middle, and lower tiers) and the Marxist dichotomy of ruling and subordinate classes. Instead, he proposed a classification based on different forms of social capital, divided into three main categories: economic capital (wealth), social capital (beneficial networks and connections), and cultural/educational capital (knowledge and qualifications).
According to Bourdieu, individuals—depending on their occupation—possess varying amounts and combinations of these forms of capital, and it is this total configuration that defines a person’s position within a socio-professional class. From this perspective—and assuming a minimum level of welfare—individuals are capable of modifying their consumption patterns or expenditure portfolios. Therefore, when we speak of the “middle class,” a clearer and more reliable understanding can be achieved by determining the specific social positioning of the individuals in question.

In Iran, however, due to historical developments—particularly from the 1960s onward—when ordinary people refer to the “middle class,” they are typically thinking of salaried employees and cultural wage-earners, with financial status and material possessions serving as the primary indicators. Yet it is important to consider a crucial point: the sharp fluctuations in income over the past fifty years have consistently been accompanied by intense social tensions—tensions that are entirely understandable. As a result, from the 1990s onward, Iran entered a twenty-year period of relative post-war economic recovery characterized by heightened consumerism and deepening dependence on government support. During this time, state corruption and unproductive expenditures soared. Although the economic situation of the country and the middle class improved somewhat, social problems and tensions simultaneously intensified. In recent years, due to mounting economic hardship, the public’s engagement with cultural products—such as books, theatre, cinema, and similar forms—has steadily declined. These cultural goods have, in effect, become luxury items. In a context where the Iranian middle class has all but eroded, what are the consequences of this shift? Can the persistent efforts of a small group of cultural actors, who continue to safeguard theatre, publishing, and authentic literature—often at great personal cost—truly help preserve the cultural foundations of society, or are such efforts ultimately in vain?

In fact, no significant policy shift has occurred in recent years per se; rather, we are now witnessing the cumulative outcomes of policies initiated in the 1990s. Over time, due to various factors, Iran’s political tensions with the outside world have deepened. Alongside this, the expansion of systemic corruption within the state has led to an intensification of neoliberal policies. Consequently, a growing segment of the population has fallen below the poverty line. The country’s current condition increasingly resembles that of the 1980s, with one major difference: while political repression was severe during that earlier decade, the level of corruption was not nearly as extensive, nor was the state as overtly neoliberal or aligned with the interests of the elite classes as it is today.The sharp decline in the country’s economic income and the resulting pressure on household budgets—even to the extent of threatening the ability to meet basic needs—has had a clear consequence: cultural spending is either entirely eliminated or becomes completely dependent on market dynamics. It is worth noting that, relatively speaking, cultural expenditures have increased over the past four decades, as the number of educated individuals with comparatively higher cultural capital has grown. However, the fundamental problem—both then and now—is that the market, in its most problematic form, has taken control of cultural consumption. It directs public taste toward the lowest-quality products, often linked to corrupt, rent-seeking networks. The result has been an increasingly precarious situation for cultural actors—artists, writers, and cultural professionals—who have sought to remain independent and maintain creativity and authentic value in their work. These individuals, who have also traditionally been the most devoted consumers of cultural goods and services, have been subjected to unprecedented pressure. Many have been marginalized, silenced, or forced into exile. What is now referred to as the “cultural market,” with few exceptions, is either dominated by state-sponsored corruption, private-sector corruption, or more commonly, a blend of both. Among all sectors, genuine culture and art have suffered the greatest losses—despite the occasional rise of what appeared to be achievements, whether authentic or fabricated. This can be observed in the trajectories of cinema, literature, and publishing over various periods. However, these developments were rarely approached with a critical perspective, which led to an explosion in quantity and a simultaneous, alarming decline in quality.

As for whether genuine and creative cultural efforts should continue or are ultimately futile, it is important to recognize that expecting immediate and direct impact from artistic or cultural work is an illusion. If the goal is to achieve influence through the “market,” such impact may indeed be possible. Consequently, it is always feasible to produce works that display a certain degree of creativity while being tailored to a specific market—works that can be marketed successfully and achieve commercial success.This trend is visible in Iran as well, both in the domestic market and in international arenas such as festivals and their connected networks, often within the framework of a cinematic exotism. However, this phenomenon differs fundamentally from what can be considered enduring and culturally significant art—art that contributes meaningfully to the cultural legacy of a country. Such art, whether in Iran or globally, must always be considered through a long-term perspective. Ultimately, the artist creates for the “self”—but not a self that is individualistic, exclusive, or egocentric. Rather, this self is deeply connected to the historical and cultural continuity of a local tradition and, at times, to global culture. From this standpoint, the history of art helps us understand which works have endured and which have faded or been forgotten. Therefore, in my view, artists and cultural advocates, especially in contexts where culture is under pressure, in decline, or at risk, play a critical role in safeguarding cultural heritage and in building a bridge from a culture’s past to its future.
One must never assume that such cultural efforts are futile or fall into despair. Most significant artistic and cultural works in world history have emerged under severe pressure—whether on the artists themselves or within their broader social environments. What truly matters is that the artist should not produce work with the expectation of immediate “profit” or personal gain, but rather with a long-term commitment to their culture, driven by love, passion, and a deeper ontological purpose. In doing so, they must be prepared to endure great hardships—just as countless artists have done throughout history.

What is the relationship today between the middle class and intellectual society on one hand, and the cultural environment on the other, in Iran? Cultural consumption, due to various reasons including technological revolutions and structural changes, has undergone widespread transformations even globally. This is not unnatural. However, it is clear that neoliberal policies over the past fifty years have had a profoundly negative impact on cultural consumption both in terms of form and content. In Iran, global challenges are compounded by post-revolutionary crises and ongoing conflicts with the outside world.

It is important to note that the growth of the middle class does not necessarily translate into increased cultural consumption of what we conventionally term as intellectual consumption. I emphasize this because the composition of cultural capital in today’s world is fundamentally different from that of twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago. What matters for us, however, is that the rapid shrinking and destruction of the middle class under current conditions places enormous pressure on cultural production and consumption, especially in its creative and intellectual forms. In this context, I see no solution other than multiplied efforts and even greater sacrifices from those involved in art and culture. Expecting any government—this one or any other—to perform extraordinary actions, in my view, is not very realistic. Even today, on a global scale, when cultural consumption is discussed, market considerations dominate, and educational and cultural policies that prioritize the common good are generally absent due to the prevailing neoliberal and utilitarian mindset. However, as I mentioned, whether in this situation or in one better or worse, artists, individuals, and cultural groups must adopt an existential perspective toward production and creativity. They should recognize that through their work, they are defending their own life and existence—not necessarily expecting immediate impact on society or changes in their material or even spiritual conditions. Historically, and still among many cultural enthusiasts, scholars, and both classical and contemporary artists, there was talk of “love” for art and culture—that is, a personal and heartfelt need for “cultural work” as an existential purpose in the life of an artist or cultural individual. In my view, this perspective is far more realistic than expecting ruling powers to actively support culture and the arts. Expecting cultural growth simply from the expansion of the middle class is not an automatic process, just as relying on the government is not. While a larger middle class does increase the likelihood of greater cultural consumption, this increase usually pertains to products closely tied to market forces and marketing strategies. If we wish to expect more than this, fundamental shifts must first occur within our educational and social systems—such as greater global democratization, a more human-centered approach in societies, moving away from neoliberal logic and social Darwinism, and embracing the value of creative art and culture as essential to the development of human communities. However, at present, we are living in a world moving in the opposite direction. In our country, the situation is far more acute due to the reactive nature of social relations among both the general public and the elites.To consider just one example, there is a strong tendency toward right-wing, backward, conservative, and anti-intellectual ideologies—views that are virtually absent in advanced Western contexts such as universities. Yet, here, such attitudes have somehow become a source of pride. Clearly, the issue we face is not simply the shrinking of the middle class, but rather the fragmentation of the social system and widespread cultural deterioration. This is the result of long-term anomie within that system. Such conditions can only be addressed in the long run through educational frameworks rooted in democratic values, advanced cognitive theories, and an understanding of today’s complex world and intercultural relationships—both within a given culture and between different cultures.

In other countries, for example in post-war Europe, one of the first rebuilt landmarks was often a major cultural venue—such as the Vienna Opera House. This reflected a collective desire to reconnect with art and culture as essential components of progress. How do you see such a scenario unfolding in the future of Iran? Is there hope for a similar cultural revival?

There is always hope for a revival, especially for civilizations with deep cultural roots like Iran’s. However, it is important that this revival should neither be mechanical, superficial, nor symbolic. In recent decades, we have witnessed such returns: from the early years of the revolution to the 1990s, a return to Islamic culture, and from the 1990s to the present, a return to both Islamic culture and ancient Iranian heritage. Yet these returns have not been based on genuine understanding or aimed at expanding knowledge and benefiting from the valuable aspects of these cultures. Rather, they have been accompanied by social snobbery, superficial political perspectives, and worse, opportunism and instrumentalization of culture. This approach has brought no benefit to our current situation and will not do so as long as it continues.The lack of genuine understanding of past cultures, along with their instrumental and superficial use, will do more harm than good to the contemporary culture of a country. It places the culture in greater fragility and increases its vulnerability to external cultural influences—so much so that the risk of drifting away from the true spirit of its cultural heritage becomes increasingly likely. Therefore, let us never forget that cultural heritage, even if it spans thousands of years, is always a potential resource that can only assist contemporary culture through innovative and avant-garde creativity—not through utilitarian or instrumental approaches.

Azma Magazine, No. 194, Early Mehr 1404 (September 2025)

This is an AI-assisted translation of an interview with Nasser Fakouhi conducted in Mehr 1404 with Azma Magazine. The original text is available at:

ابتذال ، نتیجه سلطه بازار بر مصرف فرهنگی