Consumer Work and Agency in the Analog Revival

Abstract

Why do consumers choose difficult analog technologies over their labor-saving digital counterparts? Through ethnographic investigations of three once defunct analog technologies that have experienced a resurgence (vinyl music, film photography, and analog synthesizers), we explore how the act of consumer work enables consumers to experience shifting dimensions of agency. We utilize the theoretical lens of serious leisure to introduce a four-stage work process (novice, apprentice, craft, and design) in which the experience of agency is dependent on the shifting relations between user, object, and context. The four stages are cumulative and conjunctive, representing the development of skills toward mastery while also being connected via three transition mechanisms (contextualization, schematization, and hypothesization) that address agency–alienation tensions. The transition through these mechanisms is necessary to sustain emotional engagement in consumer work. Our contribution lies in demonstrating the myriad of ways in which consumer work as serious leisure generates different experiences of agency and alienation and the ways in which consumers can sustain engagement in their work.

All that is old seems new again. Sales of recorded music on vinyl have enjoyed 16 years of compound growth (worth almost $US2 billion in 2022), displacing compact discs and paid downloads as the main form of purchased music (Beaumont-Thomas 2023). Pop icons such as Taylor Swift are driving demand among first-time vinyl buyers, while established acts are backward integrating to ensure continuity of supply, as in the example of Metallica purchasing the Furnace Record Pressing plant in Virginia (Richards 2023). Interest in legacy technology (defined as former dominant designs displaced by digital systems; Fernandez and Beverland 2019) drove investors to revive defunct brands such as Polaroid (initially labeled The Impossible Project). Such was the demand from a new generation of film photographers that there were widespread reports of a global color film shortage at the end of 2021. As with vinyl, film photography has returned as the main form of consumer non-phone-based photography (Ewoud 2022), driving investment in entry-level film cameras by brands such as Agfa and Pentax. In 2022, Leica became the first major brand to announce that it was restarting production of the M6, a high-end analog camera.

Although once attributed to nostalgia (Bates 2019), the sustained nature of the analog revival is suggestive of something more enduring. Beyond the desire for something physical in an age of immateriality (Bartmanski and Woodward 2015), popular reports identify that analog systems meet consumers’ needs for intentionality in their experiences (Ewoud 2022). In the synthesizer market, for example, brands such as Korg and Moog now offer the widest array of analog modular systems, or systems without pre-programmed presets, since the format’s heyday in the 1970s, while new brands such as Teenage Engineering and Eurorack have responded with lower-priced products to meet demand from amateur consumers wanting to experiment with sound. These systems demand experimentation, personalization, and the creation of one’s own sounds from scratch (Doty 2016). Participants in The Guardian’s Tri-X challenge (where amateur photographers are given just one 36-frame roll of Kodak’s black and white 400 ISO film of the same name) stated how the limitations of film saw them pay greater attention to the elements necessary to render a roll of better shots:

“One roll of film, what a test! … Digital photography makes one lazy and removes the impetus to really understand light” (Guardian March 18, 2023).

Beyond exploring issues of materiality, identity, and cultural status (Foucart, Wan, and Wang 2018; Goulding and Derbaix 2019; Hietanen and Rokka 2015), we seek to understand what affordances analog can offer its users that digital counterparts cannot (Mardon, Denegri-Knott, and Molesworth 2021). The intentionality underpinning the analog revival offers a context in which to explore how consumers can work with relatively difficult technological platforms to experience personal agency. In addressing our research question—how consumer work creates experiences of personal agency—we draw on ethnographic data from three categories (vinyl music, film photography, and analog synthesizers) enjoying a consumer-led revival. Our focus aligns with previous work identifying that consumers may reject newer market offerings despite their capacity for reducing burdens (Godfrey, Price, and Lusch 2022; Leung, Paolacci, and Puntoni 2018; Mick and Fournier 1998; Norton, Mochon, and Ariely 2012), and the paradox of consumers preferring legacy technologies that offer less functionality and convenience, and indeed require significant effort vis-à-vis their digital disrupters (Raffaelli 2019).

Although research on consumer work covers a wide array of activities, from tasks seen as mundane, routine, and scripted through to more inventive, transformative, purposeful labors of love (Dujarier 2016; Weijo, Martin, and Arnould 2018), the experience of self-actualizing work (Gabriel and Lang 2015; Moisio, Arnould, and Gentry 2013) that is generative of agency has received less attention (Anderson, Hamilton, and Tonner 2016). These classifications of consumer work draw on sociological distinctions between labor, which involves exchange value, and work, which involves value-in-use (Anderson et al. 2016; Campbell 2005; Gabriel and Lang 2015). In contrast to labor, work is often seen as transformative, “soulful” (Crawford 2009), self-fulfilling (Ocejo 2017; Sennett 2008; Stebbins 2011), and purposeful (Moisio et al. 2013). Work includes the efforts involved in acquiring cultural capital (Hietanen and Rokka 2015; Wang 2022), building collections (Heljakka, Harviainen, and Suominen 2018), shaping markets (Weijo et al. 2018), and achieving difficult tasks (Brock and Johnson 2021; Scott, Cayla, and Cova 2017). While these studies identify that the outcomes of work can be valued by consumers, we still lack an understanding of how consumer agency is experienced through the doing of work.

To address our research question, we draw on the serious leisure perspective (SLP) (Stebbins 1982). Serious leisure is the “systematic pursuit of a … core activity that people find so substantial, interesting, and fulfilling that, in the typical case, they launch themselves on a (leisure) career centred on acquiring and expressing a combination of its special skills, knowledge, and experience” (Stebbins 2011, 239). With its focus on how individuals invest in activities in their free time to counter alienation in employment, the SLP alerts us to the type of consumer work that is generative of agency and identity (Stebbins 2009, 2011). Our use of SLP aligns with popular and scholarly accounts of how personal work-projects restore a sense of self (Crawford 2009; Sennett 2008), involve work-driven consumption identities (Hietanen and Rokka 2015; Moisio et al. 2013), and provide a respite from market logics (Kozinets 2002). The intentionality underpinning the analog revival suggests that the investment involved in mastering these systems meets the definition of serious leisure.

Our primary contribution concerns the relationship between consumer work and experiences of agency. Although agency is central to discussions about consumer work, definitions and measurements of agency have been limited to abstract notions of autonomy, freedom, and choice. Thus, research on consumer agency has “not kept pace with the lively theoretical debates on agency across disciplines” (Franzosi, De Fazio, and Vicari 2012, 29). Drawing on recent debates in relational sociology, we define agency as “the temporally constructed engagement by actors of different structural environments—the temporal-relational contexts of action, which, through the interplay of habit, imagination, and judgment, both reproduces and transforms those structures in interactive response to the problems posed by changing historical situations” (Emirbayer and Mische 1998, 970). This definition views agency as more than consumers freely constructing their identity with marketplace resources (Askegaard and Linnet 2011) but instead emphasizes engagement between actors, objects, and contexts, and by implication, the work involved to do so.

We develop insights from a 10-year, multi-site study of the analog revival. We demonstrate how the process and outcome of consumer work can provide consumers experiences of agency and how these experiences shift over time and identify the mechanisms that enable consumers to avoid alienation and sustain engagement in work. We find that consumer work involves aligning three domains—user, object, and context—across four stages defined by the consumer’s relationship to their work: novice-, apprentice-, craft-, and design-work. The nature of agency experienced shifts over the four stages, ranging from freedom of choice, through to forming disciplined habits, applying skills, and projecting new outcomes. Agency is experienced via different combinations of process and outcome, reflects different temporal orientations, and gives rise to tensions that can generate feelings of alienation. Sustaining engagement in consumer work involves working through the tensions and is reflected in three transition mechanisms: contextualization, schematization, and hypothesization. These findings provide insights into debates about work, agency and alienation, and status and provide a much-needed cultural interpretation of the resilience of legacy technologies (Raffaelli 2019). Next, we introduce the theoretical foundations that frame our study.

THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

Agency and Alienation in Consumer Work and Serious Leisure

Our question responds to calls for insights on the nature of consumer work that is generative of experiences of agency and by extension, reductions in alienation (Biraghi, Dalli, and Gambetti 2021; Dujarier 2016). Our focus is also grounded in the sociology of work, specifically the interplay of agency, alienation, and value (Campbell 2005), and psychological examinations of the relationship between intrinsically motivated work and feelings of empowerment, and by extension, agency (Ryan and Deci 2000; Wang 2022). However, to date, examinations of consumer work lack a broader framework to unpack the context, motives, and practices that give rise to feelings of agency (Anderson et al. 2016). We believe that the closest is the use of the craft ideal. However, this metaphor has been restricted to meeting performance standards (i.e., “doing it right”; Moisio et al. 2013, 306) or the ways in which consumer craft-workers impose their will on commodified objects (Campbell 2005). While agency is mentioned in these studies, the ways in which work helps generate experiences of agency remain limited.

We propose that a useful theoretical lens to capture the holistic nature of the experiences of work, agency, and alienation in the analog revival is the SLP (Stebbins 1982). As Moisio et al. (2013, 313) proposed, “[t]his connection [to the craftsman ideal] suggests that the construct of ‘serious leisure’ may be more appropriate for describing HCC [high cultural capital] consumer experiences.” Proponents of the SLP suggest that alienation in work, social life, and mass consumption have limited the ability of individuals to achieve self-fulfillment (Stebbins 2001). Self-fulfillment requires the acquisition of skills through effort and the investment of time and is important for restoring personal agency (Cohen-Gewerc and Stebbins 2013). Consumer researchers have demonstrated that such work can be empowering (Biraghi et al. 2021), satisfying (Seregina and Weijo 2016), generative of positive emotionality (Weijo et al. 2018), and renewing of the self (Scott et al. 2017).

However, much SLP research has been criticized for producing typologies that characterize some activities as inherently serious or casual. Critics have called for research that focuses on the experience of serious leisure (wherever it may occur) to overcome charges of essentialism (Veal 2017). This focus on the experience of the work of serious leisure matters because it (1) enables us to understand why ease (i.e., labor-saving devices) may be rejected in favor of more effortful consumption (i.e., analog technology), (2) places the focus on how consumers’ experience of work creates agency, and (3) how agency emerges and is sustained.

Although agency is central to distinctions between self-fulfilling consumer work (i.e., serious leisure) and alienating consumer labor (Anderson et al. 2016; Campbell 2005; Gabriel and Lang 2015), the nature of the agency experienced is rarely defined (Borgerson 2014). Rather, agency and its lack thereof (i.e., alienation) are often implied in terms of the presence or absence of choice or control (Botti, Iyengar, and McGill 2022; Chertkovskaya and Loacker 2016; Dujarier 2016; Stebbins 2009), reflecting the predominant anthropological view of agency as consumers’ socio-mediated (Ahearn 2001) capacity to act (Borgerson 2014) “independently and make their own free choices” (Barker 2005, 448, emphasis added). Outside of studies on work, consumer agency is viewed in terms of self-efficacy and self-determination in relation to decision-making (Askegaard and Linnet 2011; Bhattacharjee, Berger, and Menon 2014; Franzosi et al. 2012; Ryan and Deci 2000). Similarly, recent examinations of consumer relationships with technology frame consumer and object agency in terms of the presence/absence of control (Gill 2020; Jami, Kouchaki, and Gino 2021; Novak and Hoffman 2019).

Although these studies do not explicitly consider consumer work, they do align with aspects of the SLP. For example, whereas labor is viewed as subject to exchange value, and therefore potentially alienating (Anderson et al. 2016), more empowering forms of work are intrinsically motivated (Ryan and Deci 2000; Wang 2022). Ryan and Deci (2000) identify that work and agency are intertwined, with agentic individuals motivated to master new skills, which then enables further engagement in meaningful self-directed work (itself reflective of agency). Distinctions between work that involves active and passive engagement are present in other studies involving aspects of agency and alienation. Examples range from the creative work undertaken by Burning Man participants to restore a sense of agency in lives defined by passive consumption experiences (Kozinets 2002) to the IKEA effect whereby the effort put into consumption adds value to consumers (Mochon, Norton, and Ariely 2012; Norton et al. 2012).

However, viewing agency as arising from (or being constrained by) the relative presence (or absence) of choices has not allowed consumer researchers to fully understand “how consumers’ relationships with products can empower them” (Otnes, Ruth, and Crosby 2014, 879). In their seminal paper, Emirbayer and Mische identify that within social science generally “the term agency itself has maintained an elusive, albeit resonant, vagueness; it has all too seldom inspired systematic analysis” (1998, 962, emphasis present). Drawing on these critiques and consumer research that find agency is relational and emerges through interactions between consumer and object (Epp and Price 2010), we ground our study in relational sociology (Franzosi et al. 2012) in which agency is interactional, focused toward something, and embedded within a wider sociocultural context (Emirbayer and Mische 1998).

The emphasis on agency as autonomy and control is also reflected in how consumer research and the SLP treat alienation. In serious leisure, work is a response to a lack of autonomy and meaning in the workplace; therefore, alienation reflects a lack of agency, and vice versa (Stebbins 2009). Consumers also seek out agentic experiences as a means of compensating for dissatisfaction in employment (Moisio et al. 2013; Scott et al. 2017). However, whereas escaping alienation has been identified as a motive for serious leisure, how alienation emerges in consumer work has received less attention. Although alienation is often simply implied by the absence of agency, drawing on Ryan and Deci (2000) we define it as feelings of emotional disengagement arising from a sense of disconnection between the self and one’s work.

How does alienation emerge? Research suggests two sources of alienation: a lack of flow and extrinsic motivation. A lack of flow often characterizes the experiences of novices who struggle to align practices (Woermann and Rokka 2015). This can create an overwhelming sense of frustration that if not overcome, can result in feelings of inadequacy and disengagement (Brock and Johnson 2021; Murphy 2022). However, masters’ experiences of alienation result less from misaligned practices than from changes in motivation. Whereas agency involves work that is intrinsically motivated (Ryan and Deci 2000), alienation emerges when work becomes primarily extrinsically motivated (Anderson et al. 2016). In one of the few studies of disengagement in consumer work, Seregina and Weijo (2016) identify how master cosplayers become alienated from their craft (costume making) as they feel overwhelmed by the need to maintain their communal status through making ever more elaborate and time-consuming designs. What started as a desire to master one’s craft eventually becomes defined by the burdens of status (i.e., extrinsically motivated), resulting in diminished engagement and even exit.

Taken as a whole, the discussion so far suggests that agency can be experienced through consumer work that is classed as serious leisure. In expounding a broader view of agency, Emirbayer and Mische (1998) identify three constituent dimensions of agency—iterational, projectivity, and practical evaluation—that could alert us to how consumers’ experiences of agency in work shift over time. Each dimension differs in terms of temporal orientation—past, future, and present (respectively)—giving rise to specific characteristics, dialogical relations, and modes of action. However, while Emirbayer and Mische suggest that these dimensions interact, they do not explore this interplay or the possible transitions between each. As well, despite the connection between agency and alienation, the latter receives little attention in their framework. Therefore, we propose that unpacking these dimensions of agency will provide fine-grained understandings of the relationship between the experience of agency and alienation in serious leisure work. Since the manifestation of these agentic orientations differs in terms of context (Emirbayer and Mische 1998), we draw upon three settings to deepen our understanding of how consumer work generates agency within the analog revival.

The Analog Revival as Serious Leisure

Technology consumption represents fertile ground for understanding consumer work as serious leisure. Anderson et al. (2016) suggest that the ubiquity of digital technology in the market creates an obligation to adopt it, thereby reducing agency. Consistent with SLP, labor-saving technologies are often rejected because they remove effort (Mick and Fournier 1998; Norton et al. 2012), particularly when identity goals are salient (Leung et al. 2018). Although research on the revival of analog technologies (particularly vinyl) exists, much of it treats the work involved as a quandary that can only be understood in terms of the meaning attached to material objects, underappreciated functional superiority, or nostalgia. That is, past studies have framed the revival of legacy technologies in instrumental terms, asking why consumers would adopt systems that are less functionally advantageous than digital. While these studies support several of the motives of serious leisure (e.g., a search for meaning), they ignore the potential for the value that consumers potentially find in the actual doing of that leisure.

Technologies such as vinyl records, analog film, musical instruments, board games, letter writing, and many others have re-emerged since 2010, defying predictions of their inevitable demise (Bartmanski and Woodward 2015; Raffaelli 2019). Table 1 contains sample evidence of revival in the three categories we focus on: vinyl music, film photography, and analog synthesizers.¹ The story in each category is similar—once written off, displaced legacy technologies have rebounded in terms of sales, garnering high-profile, mainstream support which has revived dead or dying formats (Raffaelli 2019), and seen the launch of new brands and products. Also, each category (vinyl vs. streaming, film vs. digital photography, analog synthesizers vs. digital applications) is the most robust physical format in the digital age.

Explanations of the analog revival to date focus on materiality, motive, and strategy. Strategically, Raffaelli (2019) identifies that the displacement of legacy technology involves one of three options: retreat, matching, or repositioning (others have noted that the process of displacement is rarely linear; Foucart et al. 2018). For example, vinyl initially retreated to niche genres such as punk, rap, and dubstep following the introduction of the compact disc (Hietanen and Rokka 2015). Raffaelli’s (2019) examination of the revival of Swiss manual watches and fountain pens notes how negative features (difficulty and lack of precision) were repositioned as positives and targeted at luxury segments. Matching involves trying to compete directly with disrupters primarily through price.

Many of the consumer-driven studies have focused on issues of materiality and the cultural conditions that lead to revival. Despite offering, at times, conflicting results, we believe that these studies support the use of SLP to examine consumer work in the context of the analog revival. For example, some studies indicate that re-enchantment with analog technology is partially reflective of the sociocultural conditions that give rise to serious leisure, including the “search for authenticity and meaning in a heavily digitalized and commodified world” (Bartmanski and Woodward 2015, 17). Although much of this research places an emphasis on qualities of the format per se, including feelings of warmth and the desire for something physical (Fernandez and Beverland 2019; Goulding and Derbaix 2019), user forums suggest that consumers of analog are best thought of as connoisseurs who enjoy the work involved in sustaining sound systems and building collections (Nokelainen and Dedehayir 2015).

In sum, we propose that serious leisure provides an organizing construct to capture consumer work that can generate agency in the context of analog technology. Previous research has focused on the beneficial outcomes of consumer work in terms of its ability to generate skills, competences, satisfaction, purpose, and identity (Moisio et al. 2013; Seregina and Weijo 2016; Wang 2022). However, a focus on outcomes has resulted in less attention being paid to the actual experience of doing work (Anderson et al. 2016). Viewing work as necessary drudgery on the way to mastery (Murphy 2022; Woermann and Rokka 2015) obscures the potential upsides that may arise from the effort involved in reskilling (Mochon et al. 2012; Moisio et al. 2013). This matters because understanding how consumers experience serious leisure, including the upsides and frustrations, is essential to understanding how the doing of consumer work generates experiences of agency.

METHODS

Our research is motivated in part by Veal’s (2017) call to understand consumers’ lived experiences of serious leisure. As such, we take an ethnographic approach. Consistent with previous work in this area, we use theoretical sampling to select our research contexts. Drawing on observations and popular press articles, we purposively sampled three product categories where legacy technology has rebounded: vinyl music, film photography, and analog synthesizers. Each category meets several important theoretical requirements. First, they are all former dominant designs. Second, they are all experiencing a renaissance (table 1). Third, reports suggest that much of the analog revival is driven by new adopters (Fernandez and Beverland 2019). Fourth, they all involve work, specialist skills, dedication, and persistence, consistent with the requirements of serious leisure.² This last point may be surprising in the context of listening to vinyl music; however, previous research and popular accounts suggest that work is involved in creating an experience, be it in setting up the sound system through to the mental focus required for deep listening (Krukowski 2017; Whitehouse 2023).

We conducted 57 consumer interviews (28 with users of vinyl music; 17 with film photographers; and 12 with users of analog music synthesizers). Informants had an average age of 35.8 years (range 20–60) and are 77% male and 23% female. Further details on informants can be found in the web appendix. The interviews were conducted in person or via Skype and lasted for 90 minutes on average. We engaged in semi-structured interviewing using an interview guide (modified for product category) that consisted of open-ended questions that allowed informants to answer on their own terms and involved minimal interviewer influence, floating prompts (that picked up on issues highlighted by informants and often involved points of clarification or invitations to explain further), and more targeted questions around demographics and product ownership issues (e.g., “how many records/cameras/synthesizers do you have?”), adoption times, and so on. Data collection ceased when theoretical saturation, or the point when further data provided no new theoretical insights, was reached. Interviews were transcribed, resulting in 412 single-spaced A4 pages of data.

The interview data were supplemented with shorter in situ conversations, fieldnotes from participant and non-participant observation, and photographs from immersion in all categories. All three authors were immersed in at least one of the legacy technologies in this article (the first author was immersed in all three). Participant and non-participant observational data were collected through involvement in the relevant communities of users, including participation in photo walks, discussion boards, group zoom meetings, consumer and trade events such as record, camera, and synthesizer fairs, product launches, technical forums, watching documentaries on legacy users and technology, reading popular and trade publications, and in situ conversations at various events, outings, and other situations where the subject turned to analog technology (often stimulated by the presence of an object). Collectively, the authors have 246 pages of ethnographic fieldnotes.

After carefully considering several theoretical frames during analysis, we determined that serious leisure was the one that most closely aligned with the emerging data and offered the most potential for transferability to other contexts. After the authors initially analyzed the data separately, codes were compared and discussed over multiple meetings, repeatedly iterating between theory and data. Coding followed the open, axial, and selective coding process suggested by Spiggle (1994). For example, during open coding, references to deeper engagement with the focal activity were common. Axial coding was then used to link certain product functions, design elements, and rituals that gave rise to this state. Finally, selective coding involved searching for examples of each category and relationship in the dataset as a part of the triangulation process to establish trustworthiness in the interpretation. What emerged from this analysis is four cumulative and conjunctive stages of consumer work (novice, apprentice, craft, and design) in which consumers experienced agency and alienation (table 2).

SHIFTING AGENCY AND ALIENATION IN CONSUMER WORK

Consistent with the SLP, we find that working to master analog platforms provides consumers with a sense of meaning and fulfillment in consumption. The passages in table 2 provide multiple instances of experiences of agency emerging through consumer work. From Jay railing about the monotony of sound from digital synthesizers, through to Alastair’s emphasis on intentionality in photography, these exemplars provide multiple instances of the value of being engaged in difficult work, and the ways in which analog technology facilitates the creation of this value. These informants and those presented throughout the findings place themselves at the center of their work, reinforcing notions of effecting personalized outcomes, acting independently, and being in control, all of which are central attributes of agency (Bhattacharjee et al. 2014). Furthermore, all passages reflect that this work is serious leisure, with evidence of five of the six distinguishing qualities of serious leisure including perseverance, effort, durable benefits, a unique ethos, and identification with the activity (Stebbins 1982). The sixth element, engagement involving key turning points, is reflected in the process model presented in figure 1.

We identify that experiences of agency shift as consumers engage themselves in work. We do so by drawing on our data and on Emirbayer and Mische’s (1998) expanded discussion of agency. We model four role-defined stages that capture the relationship of the consumer to their work: novice, apprentice, craft, and design. The work itself is characterized by the need to align user, object, and context (all of which are active to varying degrees). These roles also define the experience of agency, the tensions that can cause alienation, and the relationship between consumers and their communities of practice. We also identify three triggers necessary to overcome the potential for alienation and to ensure sustained engagement in consumer work: contextualization, schematization, and hypothesization. Consistent with the SLP, we also find that relations between the consumer and their respective communities shift over time (Seregina and Weijo 2016; Stebbins 2011), which can influence experiences of agency and also play a role in generating feelings of alienation.

Briefly, novices primarily experience agency through the availability of choices, although their low level of skill, arising from a lack of awareness about the need for alignment between user, object, and context (as shown by the lack of connections between these three in figure 1), means that they lack agentic control over outcomes. This frustration can lead to disengagement. Apprentices experience agency through the feedback from repetitive processes aimed at aligning user, object, and context (as shown by the dashed lines in figure 1 to indicate emerging connections). However, should these processes become atomized or ends in themselves, then the work will become increasingly alienating. Craftspeople experience agency primarily through the embodied application of schemas (reflective of alignment between user, object, and context shown by the hard connections between each in figure 1) built up through their apprenticeship. Alienation in this stage can emerge through feelings of boredom arising from conservatism in practice, which can trigger different forms of experimentation or exit. Design-work involves a shift in practice driven by abduction or asking “what might be” questions, whereby aspects of learned schemas (i.e., deliberate breaks between user, object, and context represented by the explosions in figure 1) are disrupted to effect new outcomes. Should such work become more motivated by communal status than intrinsic desire, then alienation may emerge.

Novice-Work: Choice without Control

Many of our informants were first-time adopters of analog technologies, particularly those shooting film and using synthesizers. First-time adopters were confronted with a dizzying array of possibilities in terms of possible outcomes. These possibilities typically greet newcomers when they enter communities of users who, for example, exhibit photographs taken with different film formats, or filters, or cameras, or combinations of both. Similar experiences occur in synthesizers and vinyl, as insiders debate the merits of different brands, products, modules, patch combinations, turntable setups, pressings, and so on. While agency is experienced in terms of choice, each product and brand have unique demands, which require focused attention.

Therefore, novices’ experiences of agency are tempered with frustrations arising from a lack of skill, the lack of overt user-centricity of analog designs, and the differences between analog and digital systems that limit the ability of consumers to apply familiar schemas to new contexts (see Eldo’s reference in table 2 to “spray and pray” digital photography). The following ethnographic note provides an example of the first author’s initial experience of advanced modular systems during data collection:

I finally locate the legendary Schneiders Buero, a store for analog synthesizers in Berlin’s “Kotti” neighborhood. Up two flights of stairs sits a sprawling store featuring a range of modular analog synths, including names such as Moog and Buchla, as well as modern Euro-racks. Each setup contains headphones and boxes of patch cables. There are no instructions and the machines, while alluring, are also somewhat imposing. Like others, I choose a modular setup and glance over the knobs and switches, looking at the labels signaling wave form, pitch, volume and so on. Perplexed, I look around at others, many of whom also appear unsure, while several others are focused on connecting cords and working dials. I tentatively pick up a patch cord, connecting two modules. Nothing. I keep going, and eventually sounds emerge. After a while I realize I’ve been at this for two hours. Somewhat dazed, I look around, many of those who began using the machines at the same time as me are locked in thought while moving to their music, their machines covered in patch cords. (Fieldnotes, 26/2/20)

The modular synthesizers described above are the machines that were disrupted by the first-generation digital systems based around labor-saving pre-set programmed sounds (Raffaelli 2019). Built for experimental artists, modular systems rarely come with a piano-styled keyboard and instead create sound through combinations of different modules that are patched together with cords. These systems require one to explore combinations through an array of unfamiliar switches and knobs. Because of this, the possibilities are open-ended, and, much like different combinations of film, cameras, lenses, and filters (not to mention lighting contexts), offer the novice an almost infinite array of choices through direct physical contact. Therefore, the fieldnote above reflects the tensions between choice, an emerging sense of self-determination through work (Stebbins 2009), but also a lack of self-efficacy (Gill 2020) reflected in the lack of control over outcomes that characterize novices’ experiences of agency.

However, as the ethnographic note describes, the array of choices and combinations is generative of work, that albeit tinged with frustration, is nonetheless viewed as rewarding (as Paul describes in setting up his turntable system in table 2). For example, Matthew describes learning to create sounds on a modular system in joyous terms: “I kind of love the nuances of patching and the difficulty of getting back to something physical, there’s something kind of wonderful about it.” Thus, although this phase is characterized by difficulty arising from a lack of knowledge and skill, the work involved in discovering each object’s potential provides consumers with a tantalizing glimpse into what might be possible in terms of actively shaping highly personalized outcomes (i.e., of integrating one’s work and self; Ryan and Deci 2000).

As noted, however, there is a fine line between the experience of choice and potentiality, and what Stebbins (2001) described as the drudgery of learning one’s craft. Central to generating the experiences that provide consumers with the motivation to continue in their work is the alignment between them, their object, and the context of operation. For example, the following fieldnote describes the emergent awareness of these elements and their interplay in a workshop on the use of black and white infrared film:

The instructor, Emily, describes to her class of novices how infrared film is rewarding but immensely demanding. Because infrared captures light outside of the spectrum of human vision it can provide unique effects but requires immense care, because one has no other way than following important rules to render great images. One must use certain filters, load in total darkness, and use purely mechanical cameras that lack an internal ISO reader. Planning is essential as infrared requires light-giving subjects (ie, nature and people) and high contrasts as well as high aperture no matter the ISO rating of the film. Emily impresses upon us that one must plan very carefully. (Fieldnotes 9/5/20)

However, novices lack both the knowledge of each individual element and the necessity and means of aligning them to create the outcomes they desire. Woermann and Rokka (2015), for example, describe the feelings of frustration and disappointment that arise from the misalignment of practices in extreme sports, with even small breakdowns in connections undermining the pursuit of peak flow-type experiences. In relation to the passage above, while infrared film provides a creative, otherworldly feel to photography that many users admire, there is a very fine line between rendering these images and complete failure. Failure emerges because novices do not follow the rules outlined by Emily, and pay attention to the interactions between subject, lighting, camera, film, filter, and so on. With limited knowledge of the need for alignment, novices often struggle to generate the outcomes they seek, resulting in repeated failures, which are not only emotionally draining but also financially costly.

In our three contexts, the possibility of misalignment is compounded by the communities that novices have joined because experts in these communities share an array of creative outcomes as well as celebrate their extensive collections of devices (memes about needing to acquire yet another camera, record, or synth module abound in each community). Furthermore, the analog revival has stimulated demand for older branded products, many of which (Kodak Aerochrome, Leica’s M series, Moog, Korg) are lionized within communities as being the pinnacle of their type (hype around newly launched products is also common). These often fuel the desire by novices to equate expertise with owning the right brand, a belief that soon breaks down with the frustration arising from misalignment. For example, Ian, at his first photowalk (29/4/23), expressed his frustration with his Leica M6, as he could not understand how to load film into the camera. This meant that while he believed that he was taking shots, he was in fact not, resulting in feelings of helplessness and embarrassment in being unable to master a basic setup process despite being in possession of an iconic and expensive camera.

Ian’s experience reflects a common getting started theme within each community and reflects how a lack of control over outputs can lead to a felt sense of alienation from one’s work. Whereas writers on serious leisure and craft underplay the agentic value of difficulty arising in the initial forays of novices (Stebbins 2001), they nonetheless recognize that such annoyances must be worked through lest they come to frustrate agency and create a sense of alienation (Herzfeld 2004; Murphy 2022). To avoid or work through this emerging sense of alienation, consumers must balance choice with self-efficacy, which comes from investing more time in mastering one object, or even one combination of object and context (as Juliette describes in relation to synthesizers: “You have to engage yourself in the process. You have to commit”). The first author’s initial foray into analog synthesizers provides an example.

As a long-time fan of electronic music, I had purchased several of the new consumer-oriented synth modules by Korg and Moog. During an in-situ discussion with Jessi (a professional musician) she gently derided such an approach, describing the importance of really “going deep and learning one system.” When I responded that I was thinking of buying yet another release, she sighed, “see, you’re treating these systems as toys, you’re either serious about learning to play them or you’re just trying to make a few random sounds. You need to develop an ear for music and the only way to do that is through treating one device as a tool to master.” (Fieldnotes 3/4/13)

Jessi’s link between serious work and investing the time to master a single device represents the transition mechanism between the novice’s experience of agency through choice and that of an apprentice seeking to build self-efficacy over outcomes. Our findings identify that as novices deepen their engagement with particular objects, they begin to identify the need for alignment, whereby their practice, the demands of the object, and the context of use enhance outcomes.

In their discussion of the dimensions of agency, Emirbayer and Mische (1998) identify that contextualization enables consumers to understand the contingent nature of their actions and the role of these in producing outcomes, or in our terms, to understand the ways in which each element can interact to shape outcomes as being essential to experiencing agency in the moment, or what they identify as the practical-evaluative dimension of agency. Contextualization is therefore essential for moving through the frustration arising from misalignment to a more focused form of work defined by feedback and disciplined processes that allow for informed adaptations in practice.

Apprentice-Work: The Discipline of Process

Contextualization enables consumers to transcend the frustrations experienced as novices and enter a phase of focused effort that involves an understanding of materials and how to work them (Sennett 2008). In our case, contextualization involves the work of alignment between user, object, and context (represented by the dashed lines in figure 1) and is reflected in informants’ dedicated repetition of work processes to enhance their control over end results.

Therefore, agency for apprentices is experienced in its practical-evaluative dimension (Emirbayer and Mische 1998) which involves engagement in process discipline, trial and error, and if needed, subsequent adjustment. Terms such as “care,” “mindful,” “present,” “attention,” and “applied effort” were commonly used by our informants to indicate the ethos required to master one’s chosen tool. Harry’s passage describes this emphasis on discipline as necessary to produce outcomes efficiently:

“One of the big myths of film is that it’s more expensive than digital [because of greater cost of film and the need for retakes post development]. That’s not really true if you’re a disciplined filmmaker. When a filmmaker’s shooting ratios are off the charts, a lot a post-production needs to be done. A film like Dunkirk actually did not shoot that high a volume of film because Chris Nolan is such a disciplined filmmaker, he knows exactly what he wants to capture in the shot. Shooting film by definition requires more discipline.” (Harry)

Discipline in process is essential for our informants and like all serious leisure work requires perseverance (Stebbins 2011) that paradoxically involves working within the demands that objects and context impose on consumers (Martin and Schouten 2014). Discipline in process is evidenced in the ways in which informants emphasize the centrality of process work, the emphasis on the value of slowing down and being deliberate, and the perseverance with these processes until they become second nature.

Whereas practical-evaluative agency is often experienced by direct feedback, our informants stressed the primacy of process discipline because the connections between work and outcomes are often delayed. While the need for film processing to see the results of discipline is obvious, even instant film requires a wait time (between 2 and 30 minutes), while the deep listening sought by vinyl users requires a set of preparation processes (see Christie’s passage in table 2), and the production of a music track on an analog synthesizer requires careful patching between modules. This leads to process discipline, which is reflected in consumers’ accounts of how they enjoy the slowness and deliberateness involved in learning to master analog technology (vs. a digital alternative). A case in point is Naomi’s description of her work in large-format photography (which uses camera designs from the 19th century):

“I like the pace of it, it really slows you down. [I: Talk me through that] So your options to take pictures are really limited, you’ve only got two to six shots, and the film’s expensive, the processing is expensive, it’s very labor intensive getting that shot from in the camera to print, so you’re really conscious of getting it right because if you make a mistake at the beginning, you can invest a few days and it’s going to be a rubbish shot, so you really consider it. You’re not going to fire off 1,000 pictures like digital and get one and post-process it, you have to make sure you get it right in camera. And that really appealed to me, being really conscious of your photography.” (Naomi)

The desire for deliberateness (an essential component of serious leisure; Cohen-Gewerc and Stebbins 2013) is present in the accounts of those who describe the conscious steps and checking process involved in their work. As Dan states, “I love everything up until pressing the shutter. I love searching for the frame, I like the output, but the process is important.” For apprentices like Naomi (and Christie and Alastair in table 2), the processes that result in alignment are valued because they provide informants with a sense of control even when outcomes are not immediate.

These processes provide experiences of practical-evaluative agency, not only through the careful checking that tasks have been undertaken, or that adjustments for context have been made, but also in the feedback from the objects themselves including the sound of a correctly set shutter speed and the warmth of a stylus on a record. The importance of feedback and process discipline is reflected in the communal practice whereby experienced users share horror stories of blown modules, damaged records, or film mistakes (“Guess who forgot to put their last roll of EZ400 in their M6, thought they had some HP5 [ISO400] in there and rated it 1600? Yep.” Instagram post, Steve). Feedback is further expressed in terms of the presence or lack of alignment between user, object, and context. For example, one soon learns that records are damaged or unclean through tell-tale pops, skips, or white noise, while more serious mistakes that result in damage are seen in accounts of momentary lapses in discipline. “When there’s pops and things like that in a record it’s typically because I did something stupid and dropped the needle too high and made a scratch” (Patrick).

Studies of the mastery of craft identify that hours of repetition of singular tasks result in apprentices adjusting themselves physically to the demands of their tools and materials, which is seen as essential for mastery (Herzfeld 2004). As such, process discipline is how apprentices experience practice alignment, first as a slow, deliberate process, and eventually through perseverance, as a physically embodied automatic process. For example, the comparison in the craft-work section between Steve’s quick reaction to a spontaneous situation and the first author’s inability to take advantage of the same reflects this difference. In a subsequent in situ conversation (Fieldnote 25/8/2023), Steve discussed the importance of being comfortable with the “zone system” for effective street photography (“requires you to have faith in your abilities to judge distance [to the chosen subject] as you are holding aperture and shutter speed constant”). For spontaneous street shots, the ability to intuitively move to within 1 meter of the subject is essential for success (in this case, focus). Therefore, perseverance with processes, with one object and often one context, is essential to create the “muscle memory” that underpins mental schemas that are the basis for craft skill (Herzfeld 2004) or peak experiences (Woermann and Rokka 2015).

This transition from deliberateness to physical embodiment is also essential for sustaining engagement in work. Because discipline in process is aimed at ensuring control over outcomes, the work is primarily a means to an end. Should apprentices struggle to form the schemas necessary to effortlessly enable alignment, feelings of alienation emerge because the processes become laborious and consume the joy that should come from the work involved in shaping a performance (Woermann and Rokka 2015). For example:

I’m sitting with James, who is shooting with a digital camera, and he begins talking about “the process” and “film people.” “You know what ‘film people’ are like, always detail focused, they always tell you what film they use, what ASA, aperture, camera, shutter speed, and lens, for every photo. You internalize it and can’t escape it. Every time you go to take a photograph you have all this whirring around in your brain as you go into ‘film mode’ [he apologizes for putting everything in air quotes]. It’s why I got out of film it was just too much.” (Fieldnotes 8/2/20)

James’ passage reveals an imbalance between process and outcome, which he was unable to overcome because he saw detailed processes as essential to the identity of being a “film person.” In this case, the inability to link his work with his identity led to feelings of alienation (Ryan and Deci 2000). Feeling that he had to be forever consciously attentive to particulars of process, James’ enjoyment of analog photography diminished, and he switched to a labor-saving digital camera.

Therefore, alienation for apprentices arises when processes become atomized, or disconnected from outcomes, thereby failing to provide the emotional engagement that is reflective of the work’s meaning. When atomized, these processes become the drudgery of serious leisure (Stebbins 2011), but they are no longer experienced as necessary steps on the way to mastery. Writers in craft and agency identify how repetition of process (Herzfeld 2004) or the deliberateness involved in characterizing a situation (Emirbayer and Mische 1998) eventually becomes embodied or habitualized. Once this occurs, apprentices become in effect skilled craftspeople, able to quickly assess a given situation and operate accordingly (i.e., choose the correct tool, action, and effort for a particular material). In this sense, what started as deliberate processes to understand situational contingencies in work gives way to embodied schemas or taken-for-granted ways of operating in a given context. Schematization is therefore the mechanism that enables the apprentice to reduce feelings of alienation and transition craft-work.

Craft-Work: The Application of Learned Skills

Schematization is the transition mechanism from apprentice to craftsperson (the term “craft” best captures this relationship to work, as consumers deploy well-honed skills, adapting tools to context and user needs as required; Moisio et al. 2013). This mechanism also underpins the iterational dimension of agency, which is defined as the application of learned skills (Emirbayer and Mische 1998). Consumers who have achieved craftsperson-like skills describe their work in a way that indicates an ease of operation, with alignment work being fluid in action, reflective of optimal performances (Woermann and Rokka 2015). Although mastery of craft is often associated with agency in the SLP (Stebbins 2009), alienation can emerge due to conservatism in practice (often driven by communal appreciation for a preferred style), triggering the need for experimentation with different combinations of user, object, and context.

The iterational dimension of agency is temporally located in the past (Emirbayer and Mische 1998) and reflects the application of embodied skills that enable consumers like Paul to enjoy the fruits of their apprentice work (Cohen-Gewerc and Stebbins 2013). For example:

“The one song that will make me cry is an Aretha Franklin track. It’s scratched to hell but there’s something about that warmth that comes from it, which makes me feel I want to say isolated, but it doesn’t feel quite the right word, it enables something that’s not present; something added. And I think it is the quality of the human voice; it does feel more like someone’s speaking to me. I actually really want to play that now (laughs), I want to hear Aretha speak to me.” (Paul)

Paul’s description of the Aretha Franklin record reflects a craftsman’s appreciation of his material, with an emphasis on the value of the scratches, the sounds, and the silences helping to forge an intensely personal connection between him and the music (Haines-Eitzen 2022). While listening to vinyl music may be viewed as passive, Paul’s passage reflects what is known as deep or close listening [Patrick’s passage in table 2 similarly identifies the active nature of listening and reflects the selective attention typical of iterational agency, whereby users can isolate a small snippet of an experience and connect it to the greater whole (Emirbayer and Mische 1998) leading to a deeper appreciation of their work.]. As former Galaxie 500 drummer Damon Krukowski (2017) describes, the surface noise left from the needle running over the record represents the sound of time and can only truly be appreciated through listening practices that focus on the relationships between intended and unintended sounds and silences. Because analog recording is additive (whereby every sound including those made from the machines doing the recording is layered into the final product), deep listening is when Paul can hear both the signal and the noise being preserved together. Paul’s experience of listening to his beloved Aretha Franklin record is consistent with the peak performances achieved through practice alignment (Woermann and Rokka 2015) by masters of serious leisure work (Stebbins 2011).

The iterational dimension of agency arises from the ability to put taken-for-granted schemas into action (Emirbayer and Mische 1998). In contrast to the slow deliberacy of apprentice work, the craftsperson’s experience of agency involved the unproblematized application of schemas. Thus, craftspeople interact with their objects in a much more intuitive, synchronous way, often involving quick assessments of context and assured movements, enabling one to spot and exploit opportunities (Sennett 2008). For example:

Suddenly Steve hands me his coffee, whips out his camera and bends down and snaps a shot of a greyhound looking intently at another dog. Realizing Steve’s great choice, I quickly put the coffee aside, fumble for my camera, adjust it for light, bend down, and realize the dog has turned away, moving off with their human companion. Standing up, I see Steve is back drinking his coffee almost as if nothing has happened (the slight smile suggests otherwise). (Fieldnotes 7/9/20)

Craftspeople like Steve enjoy greater efficiency and efficacy in the production of their experiences and outcomes, reflecting complete alignment between user, object, and context (Woermann and Rokka 2015). Steve’s example refers to the aforementioned emphasis on being comfortable with the zone system in photography. Unlike the apprentice first author, Steve is intuitively able to ensure his physical distance from the greyhound is just right to enable the shot to be in focus. In contrast, the slow movements of the first author remove the possibility of taking advantage of spontaneous opportunities. Other examples are provided in table 2, such as Jay’s ability to easily gain desired sounds from the Korg synthesizer that he has repaired and Courtney’s passage below about her development work.

Although schematization enables craftspeople to recognize specific types of contingencies, it also enables consumers to easily maneuver between repertoires (Emirbayer and Mische 1998), using different tools or combinations of them to generate desired outcomes. For example, synth players like Sarah eventually move from mastering one module as apprentices to crafting personal sounds from multiple systems: “I own several analog synthesizers and analog effects so I can shape my original and personal sound. I associate the different instruments together, each having their unique role.” Courtney below describes this maneuvering as a form of “magic” in relation to film development.

“I think if you showed a child how you develop a photo, they’d think you were Harry Potter. The fact that it comes through this magic liquid and it’s so tactile, you can change the depth of colors, you can put filters on and change it in such a hands-on way, that feels more like a piece of art.” (Courtney)

Courtney’s description of the ease with which she uses different filters to generate different outcomes represents the culmination of many years of work, given that development is often a process many film photographers struggle to master. Maneuvering between repertoires arises from the ability of craftspeople to quickly assess their materials (Herzfeld 2004) and experience the agency that arises from the application of skill, generating the feelings of control, self-efficacy, and self-determination associated with agentic work (Ryan and Deci 2000; Sennett 2008). However, unlike Campbell’s (2005) view that agency arises from dominating one’s tools, we demonstrate a more symbiotic relationship between the craftsperson, their tools, and the context of operation, akin to a partnership (Mick and Fournier 1998).

Since the work of skilled craftspeople is often synonymous with mastery in serious leisure (Cohen-Gewerc and Stebbins 2013; Moisio et al. 2013), it is presumed to be free from alienation (Campbell 2005; Sennett 2008). For many informants, this was often the case, especially those who became adept at generating multiple schemas and thereby expanding the possibilities for their work through additional synth modules, genres of music, or types of film and camera. However, Gabriel and Lang (2015) pose the question as to whether this type of self-actualizing work is doomed to become alienating. In the case of iterational agency, one oft-experienced outcome was feelings of dissatisfaction arising from being stuck in a rut. Photographers most often experienced this, identifying that they had become bored with their photography, which often arose out of the diminishing emotional returns from repeating the same alignment work. For example, while many photographers are attracted to the dreamlike look of infrared film, the nature of the film and the context it thrives in can lead to one’s photography being dominated by the same landscape-type scenes with an emphasis on “fluffy white clouds, deep contrasts, and red and blues in colour” (Annie, in situ interview, 22/2/2021).

A further driver of this dissatisfaction stems from the dynamics of serious leisure, in which craftspeople achieve greater status within their communities of practice (Stebbins 2001). While the appreciation of like-minded peers often drives further engagement, it can also generate a sense of conservatism as users develop a recognized style. For example, the first author saw increased traffic to their Instagram feed and was triggered to invest more in redscale street photography following approving comments such as “More like this please!” (Rob). However, over time the one dimensionality of the look plus the need for very specific lighting conditions resulted in reduced engagement in street photography.

We identify two ways in which this conservatism is overcome. First, dissatisfaction is often addressed by expanding the range of schemas (which then allows for further maneuvering between them) by serving new apprenticeships with different objects, contexts, or combinations. This could involve changing film stocks, cameras, or contexts (from street photography to landscape), brands of synths (from the more traditional Moog to organic systems like Buchla), shifting genres in music for deep listening, and so on. This is represented in figure 1 as a return to contextualization as consumers seek a new apprenticeship and then integrate that within their repertoire of schemas. Whereas this response to alienation involves adding aligned schemas, the second response to routinization involves problematizing and reconfiguring connections between one of user, object, and context. We label this mechanism hypothesization and propose that it enables consumers to transition to a future-oriented form of projective agency (Emirbayer and Mische 1998).

Design-Work: Creative Misalignment

Hypothesization is the mechanism by which craftspeople transcend the creeping routinization that can create feelings of alienation. Engaging in this mechanism also leads to a different form of user–work relationship, consistent with the practice of skilled designers who prefer asking “what if” type questions to generate new solutions (Beverland, Wilner, and Micheli 2015). In this type of work, the experience of agency also shifts from the iterative application of previously learned skills to the projection of new futures (leaving aside turntablism, this work is more typical in the photography and synthesizer contexts). The outcomes of design-work enhance the status of the worker within their respective communities and provide the basis for others to experiment in similar ways. We posit that agency–alienation tensions can emerge in this later stage, should instrumental motives make the work more laborious.

This projective dimension of agency involves deliberate misalignment work between one or more of user, object, and context (figure 1), albeit done with informed (and often deliberate) intent. One common expression of this misalignment is “the happy accident,” as described by John:

“Half of what you do trying to make music is like a happy accident that ends up sounding better than what you intended. So, if the machine doesn’t do exactly what you thought it was going to do, or it goes a bit out of tune, it is all part of the process. Your mistakes or accidents become part of what you are trying to do, rather than just being something, you think “oh, I will erase that and do it again properly.” You get a little bit of randomness in it, and that randomness can add to what you are trying to achieve.” (John)

Our contexts are characterized by numerous examples of the value of happy accidents, including the role of light leaks in photography, the role of accidents resulting in iconic riffs by electronic music acts (such as Gary Numan’s 1979 hit “Are ‘Friends’ Electric?”), and with vinyl, turntablism, or record scratching, a form of DJing most closely associated with Hip Hop. Although John’s description may appear to devalue agency while valuing randomness, the ability to recognize these accidents, let alone leverage them to make something new, reflects Sennett’s (2008) claim that mastery involves the ability to fully think and feel about one’s skill. In John’s case, an understanding of personal sound preferences and song structure allows him to integrate mistakes within a larger project (or use other tricks and technologies to transform mistakes into usable content), which generates further emotional engagement.

Writers on craft suggest that mastery involves transcending embodied skills learned in the past (i.e., iteration) (Herzfeld 2004), by engaging in what Bell, Dacin, and Toraldo (2021) describe as an “imaginary” that is future-oriented and aimed at expanding the horizon of possibilities. Similarly, Emirbayer and Mische (1998) identify that the locus of projective agency lies in the reconfiguration of received schemas and the generation of alternative possibilities. Thus, temporally, projective agency is future-oriented and reflects an abductive logic focused on experimentation (Beverland et al. 2015). As Human League founder and electronica pioneer Martyn Ware describes in episode 70 of his Electronically Yours podcast, only after knowing the rules of alignment does one comprehend the worth of so-called errors or accidents (as an apprentice Ware says he discarded accidents as random errors). This enables him and consumers like John to make informed hypotheses about potential outcomes arising from rule breaking and to take advantage of emergent outcomes.

Happy accidents sensitize consumers to the potential of rule breaking. Thus, happy accidents appear to be the first stage in the projective dimension of agency, followed by the subsequent stages of rule stretching and then rule breaking. Examples of rule stretching see consumers try to push their technology, themselves, and the context to their respective limits. In photography, examples of rule stretching include extreme pushing and pulling of formats (e.g., rating films substantially above or below manufacturer recommendations—our informant Steve, for example, demonstrates how his own crowdfunded film could be shot at ISO6000, well above the advertised speed of 400), using long-expired films, and/or doing double exposures on instant film, often with unexpected effects that, although characterized by technical limitations, stimulated debate and experimentation within the community. Hendrik’s passage in table 2 provides a common example in the film community whereby design-workers seek out unusual or forgotten film stocks and manipulate their light exposure range to the maximum, offering them for sale in small batches. Hendrik’s passage is from the social media post launching the film, placing the unknown nature of the film’s potential at the heart of the pitch.

Rule breaking is the final stage in the experience of projective agency. Rule breaking could be relatively minor, such as “souping” (the process of soaking unexposed film in a fluid of choice such as lemon juice or beer), or openly challenging the rule of not shooting into the sun (a post in an online photography forum stated, “abiding by this rule would leave out many of the most creative photos and just result in the same boring light patterns!”; Fieldnotes 23/9/22). At its extreme, it involved connecting the digital world to the analog as Chris describes, linking different synthesizer modules based on very different operating principles:

“I’m happy to combine analog and digital [synth] modules. You can have modules that sample and manipulate those sounds, you have oscillators that aren’t just regular oscillators—they have wave tables, filters that do crazy things and combining all those things together you get sounds you couldn’t imagine before, it’s like this homeopathic thing that you’ve got going on, you can use all these mixtures of manufacturers and designs and the slightest thing that you do on one can have the greatest effect on something else further along in that chain of modules, it’s amazing.” (Chris)

Chris’ experimentation arises from his extensive knowledge of craft, enabling him to not only physically connect modules based on different operating principles (analog to digital) but also to make informed choices about which modules to connect, based on likely possible sounds. Chris’ case represents an attempt to move outside of alignment work and stimulate not only his own creativity but also drive debates within communities of like-minded users, many of whom are keen to connect analog to digital.

The experience of projective agency in design-work is a means to overcome the alienation experienced through routinization as it generates new work possibilities and therefore new sources of inspiration. This contrasts with the felt alienation that leads to disengagement reported by some masters of cosplay in Seregina and Weijo (2016) who often struggle for inspiration due to having to work within restrictions provided by the source character’s costume. In another case, to counter frustration arising from long periods of sustained work often characterized by failure, Weijo et al. (2018, 269) allude to open innovation practices that include an “anything goes” ethos. We find that design-workers such as John, Steve, and Chris sustain their engagement in work through embodying this creative ideal. For Chris and others, projective agency is defined by an exploration logic, resulting in potentially limitless new options, all of which help to sustain their engagement in work.

However, does this type of work generate alienation? Seregina and Weijo (2016) identify that beyond feelings of routinization, disengagement from work also occurs as master costume designers feel the need to constantly dazzle and surprise a convention audience. A characteristic of serious leisure is that it is embedded in a community of practice and that mastery involves issues of status and intense self-identification with one’s work (Stebbins 2011). Projectivity has the potential to shift individual acts of creative exploration toward communal acts including supportive practices, such as Stephen launching a range of entry-level, quality-tested cameras targeted at novices—“I want to take all the uncertainty out of it, you know when you start, never knowing if an old camera is in working order and tested.” However, projectivity can also see serious leisure becoming more career-like (Stebbins 2009), resulting in expressions of dissatisfaction, which are often heightened in what some informants reported to be the “febrile” atmosphere of certain film photography sites that reinforced notions of purism and spurned innovation as bad photography. On Twitter (now X), this led to the formation of a new community dedicated to the “shitty camera challenge” where consumers shared their best photos taken with cheap cameras to push back against the emphasis that so-called true carriers of analog tradition only use high-end brands. Similarly, Chris and others experience some backlash against those advocating purism when they seek to combine analog and digital.

Alienation arises as work begins to feel laborious and disconnected from personal desires (Ryan and Deci 2000), triggering reflections about the financial cost and impact large amounts of time invested in work has on social relations and other aspects of consumers’ lives (Seregina and Weijo 2016). For masters like Chris and John, communicating the work behind their happy accidents and rule breaking is seen as a gift, reflecting the common practice among many design-workers to share their methods behind their successes and their failures. As these new practices are quickly adopted, it is possible that, like the master cosplayers, pressures associated with sustaining communal status through engaging in ever more rule-defying feats may trigger feelings of instrumentality as consumer work begins to lose its personal meaning. Thus, we propose, as represented by the dotted line in figure 1, that instrumentality can trigger alienation for design-workers if the work becomes focused primarily on social status.

DISCUSSION

Drawing on the SLP, we identify and unpack four stages of consumer work: novice, apprentice, craft, and design (figure 1). In doing so, we explore the agency–alienation tensions that arise as consumers engage in the consumer work of using analog technology (vinyl music, film photography, and analog synthesizers). The four stages of consumer work are cumulative and conjunctive. That is, each stage involves shifting alignment practices that (1) build the skills for moving to the next stage and (2) contain within them tensions that give rise to sources of alienation, which, if worked through, ensure transition to the next stage. These stages involve shifts in the relationship of the user to their work, from the frustrations of the novice through to the creativity of design. This relationship also reflects the nature of the consumer’s experience of agency and the type of felt alienation that emerges. Novices experience agency as an almost unlimited range of choice but can ultimately find the lack of control over outcomes to be alienating. Apprentices experience practical-evaluative agency through the feedback that emerges from a disciplined process, although alienation can emerge when such practices become ends in themselves (i.e., atomization). Craft-workers experience iterational agency through the embodied application of learned schema but may experience alienation arising from conservatism in their practice. Finally, design-workers experience projective agency through the ability to project new futures through rule breaking but may experience alienation if the focus of such work becomes instrumental. Alienation is countered by three transitioning mechanisms that enable the transition to the next phase: contextualization, schematization, and hypothesization.

Theoretical Contributions

Consumer Work

Our main contribution lies in identifying the process of consumer work and unpacking the tensions between agency–alienation in consumer work classed as serious leisure. In so doing, we also contribute to our understanding of consumer work and agency. Moisio et al. (2013) propose that the SLP is central to understanding the productive work (outside of paid employment) engaged in by high cultural capital consumers. We reaffirm this by demonstrating the agency experienced by consumers through engagement in serious leisure is indeed central to understanding self-actualizing consumer work. However, we extend this further by providing a deeper understanding of agency dynamics in serious leisure by identifying four experiences of agency–alienation tensions and the mechanisms needed to sustain emotional engagement in consumer work. Thus, we respond to calls for greater emphasis on the experience of serious leisure (Veal 2017), and how this work offers consumers sustained experiences of agency (Anderson et al. 2016; Brock and Johnson 2021; Gabriel and Lang 2015).

While the joy of embodied mastery has been foregrounded in studies of consumer work (Moisio et al. 2013; Seregina and Weijo 2016), we identify that the work involved in creating the experiences of agency and working through emerging alienation also generates positive emotions. Whereas Stebbins (2001, 55) describes the process of becoming a master as “hardly an unalloyed joy” and characterized by “petty annoyances,” our informants find agency in working through periods of frustration associated with the work of aligning user, object, and context. Thus, while consumers engage in the work toward a “moral career” (Stebbins 2011), they experience agency within each development stage and the critical turning points between them. These findings complement and extend previous research identifying the value consumers gain from the successful completion of work (Mochon et al. 2012; Moisio et al. 2013; Wang 2022) by highlighting how the warts-and-all processes of working toward uncertain outcomes, including experiencing and reducing alienation, also provide feelings of personal agency.

Consumer Work and Agency

In responding to calls for unpacking the dimensions of agency in different theoretical contexts (Emirbayer and Mische 1998), we contribute to our understanding of consumer experiences of agency and alienation in serious leisure. This has implications for our understanding of self-actualizing consumer work. For example, our findings contribute to the understanding of the work involved in the practice alignment that underpins peak performances. Whereas Woermann and Rokka (2015) identify that agency occurs in peak performances, we identify how the experience of agency shifts as consumers first experience frustration resulting from misalignment arising from ignorance, the work toward alignment, the flow-state arising from alignment, and the creative outputs arising from informed misalignment (figure 1). Thus, the first two stages of work (novice and apprentice) are valued because they enable practical-evaluative agency to be experienced as choice and through the immediate feedback provided by disciplined processes, respectively. As discipline becomes embodied in schemas that guide practice, iterational agency is experienced through the application of craft skills learned in the past, akin to time-flow or a peak performance. However, design-work involves the transcendence of learned routines, through a projective form of agency that expands the boundaries of practice. With agency being a central goal in consumer work classified as serious leisure, we contribute by expanding our understanding of agency beyond notions of intentionality or choice (Bhattacharjee et al. 2014) to include how the process of consumer work provides, and indeed requires, shifts in the temporal nature of agency experienced, from present, to past, to future (Emirbayer and Mische 1998).

In expanding our understanding of how the experience of agency shifts through deepening engagement in serious leisure, we also contribute to our understanding of alienation in consumer work. A common theme across writings on consumer work is the potential for alienation arising from perceptions of exploitation (Anderson et al. 2016; Dujarier 2016). Even authors who explore the potential for consumer work to be self-actualizing and empowering often end on a pessimistic note, asking whether exploitation and alienation are inevitable (Chertkovskaya and Loacker 2016; Gabriel and Lang 2015). Empirical studies of work that could be framed as serious leisure also identify that sustained emotional engagement is difficult over time, as work eventually begins to feel laborious (Seregina and Weijo 2016; Weijo et al. 2018). In all these studies, alienation is treated as the absence of agency. In contrast, we demonstrate a more dynamic relationship between agency and alienation. We identify how agency and alienation are intertwined across four stages, and within a communal context. Given the conjunctive nature of the four stages, we identify how the work involved in transitioning between experiences of agency has the potential to generate new forms of alienation, that can either lead to diminished engagement, or trigger new forms of agentic work.

In terms of boundary conditions, although serious leisure is akin to craft (Moisio et al. 2013; Sennett 2008), insofar as mastery involves persistence and the conversion of conscious understanding into embodied practice over time (Herzfeld 2004), we go beyond previous writings on craft and consumption in several ways. First, not all craft-work is serious leisure. For example, Raffaelli’s (2019) examination of the Swiss watch sector identifies that mechanical movements were reframed in terms of craft and materiality. In this sense, would the work involved in winding one’s watch to ensure temporal accuracy be serious leisure? Certainly, there is learned and embodied skill involved in avoiding overwinding delicate clockwork mechanisms. The act of winding the watch daily may give one a sense of agency in terms of control over time, the simple alignment between user and object is characterized first by practical-evaluative agency (learning to wind correctly) and second by iterational agency (as a mastered skill). What it lacks is the other aspects of serious leisure identified herein, such as the self-actualization realized from persevering through each of the four stages of work, the resulting shifts in the experience of agency, and the potential for creativity that may avoid such work becoming routinized. That is, such work is reflective of the application of skill rather than serious leisure.

Second, in terms of the craft consumer, far from restoring agency through escaping discipline, control, and the dominance of machine over user (Campbell 2005), serious leisure involves a more nuanced, complex relationship between user, context, and device that shifts over time. Serious leisure aligns more closely with Mick and Fournier’s (1998) human–machine partnership, whereby user agency is experienced through a process of engagement, discipline, adaptation, and creative expression as machines are used and give rise to happy accidents. Third, while the discipline of process may initially restrict the ways apprentice consumers can work (Dujarier 2016), embodying these processes allows consumers to become skilled craftspeople and, if desired, engage in creative design-work involving rule stretching and breaking.

Consumer Work and Status

The process we identify can be used to illuminate other contexts. For example, the knowledge needed to appreciate objects and processes of consumption, such as we have seen in this study with regard to analog technologies, has been identified as a new marker of status and distinction (Eckhardt and Bardhi 2020). Those who attain the skills of the craftsperson and designer gain recognition in terms of expertise and acquire cultural capital that allows them to engage in status-garnering activities such as the burgeoning consumer communities focused on discerning real from fake luxury goods (Ferrier 2023). That is, the process we outline can result in the ability to appreciate consumption objects and practices in ways that can bring cultural caché to the consumer. We can see the process of consumer work at play when looking at influencers who are working at creating their personal brands. For example, although it is difficult to master the techniques demonstrated in the make-up videos that Mardon, Cocker, and Daunt (2023) examine, gradually mastery occurs, which in turn enhances the influencer’s personal brand. In sum, the experience of agency through work hinted at in other studies can be partially explained by our framework, demonstrating its transferability.

Finally, our findings contribute to emerging debates regarding materiality and status. We propose that the pursuit of serious leisure enables consumers to engage in status displays through the deployment of skill in using difficult, time consuming, expensive material objects. Others have identified how work classed as serious leisure involves considerations of status. For example, Moisio et al. (2013) identify how high cultural capital males draw on a craftsman ideal to frame their productive DIY work around issues of personal creativity and choice, in contrast to low cultural capital men whose work is framed in terms of economy and practicality. Adult consumers use the logic of work (with terms such as “hobbying” and “dollying”) to reframe the status of toy-driven play, usually involving material and immaterial work including staging and customization (Heljakka et al. 2018). In other words, status within communal consumption is often conferred via work, skill, and the development of category-specific assets.

We propose that the slow, frustrating process involved in moving from a novice to a craftsperson or designer, involving substantial temporal resources, economic resources in terms of material purchases, costs of failures, and the physical space needed to fully engage in serious leisure (such as darkrooms, record storage, and modular synth setups) is reflective of a new serious leisure class. The serious leisure class seeks re-engagement and agency in difficult activities because not only has much professional work life become bureaucratized (and in some cases increasingly marketized; Campbell 2005), but consumption itself has been made too easy. Furthermore, the emphasis on creativity, either in practice or as a discursive framing device, may reflect the widespread idealization of this form of work in developed economies. As lifespans lengthen, increased numbers of retired people may comprise this serious leisure class, helping reframe serious leisure as luxury consumption. Future research could tease out the dynamics of this status behavior, including how in-work precarity, the gig economy, and the depletion of the middle class may impact on self-actualization and consumer work, including a preference for serious leisure or the desire for escape via labor-saving options (Mick and Fournier 1998).

Technology and Innovation

Our findings provide cultural insights into the revival of disrupted technologies. The literature on technological disruption suggests incumbents respond in three ways: retreat, matching, and repositioning (Raffaelli 2019). Leaders in each of the legacy technologies examined herein followed, or were forced into, the first two of these strategies. However, retreat (usually in terms of seeking narrower contexts for use such as specialist music genres or artistic use) reinforces perceptions of decline. Matching involves attempts to provide consumers with low-cost options that are often repackaged in fun ways (e.g., offering plastic instant cameras in an expanded range of colors). However, this only reinforces the inferiority of the incumbent relative to the disrupter. The third option was used by the Swiss watch industry, with incumbents stressing the work that has gone into production, reframing everyday items as luxury crafts. However, our findings suggest that incumbents can also reposition by emphasizing the work potential of legacy technology, complementing rather than competing with disrupters.

This type of repositioning reflects the logic of cultural innovation whereby brands attempt to repair cultural schisms that undermine consumers’ collective identities (Holt 2020). For analog incumbents, an emphasis on their objects as vehicles for serious leisure would help consumers resist a consumption ideology of convenience and ease that results in deskilling and felt alienation. Although we must be cautious of reinforcing the essentialism of the SLP (Veal 2017), an emphasis on work is already present in categories enjoying expansion by new entrants. For example, Beverland et al. (2023) have identified how specialist coffee innovators have developed educational consumer journeys that involve co-creating new forms of appreciation and shifts in user–work relations from confused novice to experienced experts that see themselves as peers of the servers. Analog and digital providers could engage in educational strategies that include cocreational journeys that enhance skill, creating and supporting communities of practice, and generating innovations to ensure sustained engagement. Furthermore, although digital disrupters often emphasize ease of use and convenience, this often undersells the potential of their affordances for consumer work. For example, digital cameras can be set to manual, digital synthesizers enable a range of sampling options and functionality beyond their presets, while music streaming platforms can emphasize the joy of curating playlists. By extending product benefits from convenience to the possibility for consumer work, digital formats can speak to consumers’ desire for omnivorousness. For example, the analog users interviewed here also used digital counterparts when the need called for it (Pomiès and Arsel 2022), with consumers experiencing enhanced feelings of agency arising from switching between schemas defined by convenience as well as work.

Future Research

Engaging in serious leisure offers a means to avoid consumer work becoming exploitative and alienating. We identify that the work of shifting between forms of agency decreases feelings of alienation and helps sustain emotional engagement in serious leisure among consumers. This involves understanding the early signs of alienation, and the need for transition work. Future research can expand upon this. First, what is the relationship between competencies and work practices? Wang (2022) identifies the development of competencies as a form of intrinsic work that can further consumers’ knowledge in categories such as luxury. However, which competencies are necessary for consumers to transition through periods of alienation to sustain their engagement in serious leisure? Future research identifying how these competencies emerge, are exploited, reflexively reimagined, and combined would further our understanding of consumer work. Extending this, are there potential path dependencies that enable transitions to occur, or that make alienation and disengagement more likely?

In a more critical vein, is projective agency through creative work a sustainable antidote to alienation? A core characteristic of serious leisure is that it takes place within a community of practice, whereby issues of self-authentication are reinforced through the conferment of status (Stebbins 2011). However, is it possible that this status becomes an end in itself, resulting in feelings of depletion (Seregina and Weijo 2016) as motives shift from intrinsic to extrinsic rewards (Ryan and Deci 2000)? Chertkovskaya and Loacker (2016) identify the dangers of becoming a “fast subject,” whereby constant feelings of the need to invest in capabilities may lead to depletion. Would the recognition arising from acts involving rule bending or breaking trigger a sense of “creativity creep,” whereby design-workers seek to outdo one another to enhance their status? A critical reading of serious leisure would suggest that the work involved in the analog revival may simply reproduce the systems that originally led to feelings of diminished intentionality (Ozanne and Murray 1995). Future research that explores the reflexivity that may enable consumers to avoid alienation is encouraged.

Additionally, future research can investigate the relationship between sustained engagement and communities of practice. We identify an interplay between re-skilling the consumer and a supportive ecosystem of offline and online communities, events, and materials. At each stage of skill development, different interactions occur between the ecosystem and consumer, including drawing on advice and help through to contribution to communal continuity. Furthermore, the communal nature of serious leisure can both enable agency and create the means for alienation, whether through encouraging sprawling collections among novices, reinforcing process over outcome for apprentices, generating conservatism among craftspeople, and encouraging status-driven instrumentality among designers. The nature of consumer work ecosystems could be investigated further, drawing on work on subcultures, communities of practice, and assemblage and practice theories (Godfrey et al. 2022; Weijo et al. 2018). For example, how do communities enable serious leisure to be sustained, especially through the frustration arising from an inability to shift from difficulty to discipline? Practice theory could provide a useful lens for understanding how communities of practice push back against the emergence of alienation (we observed that many film photographers often grew critical of the “analog community” and disengaged, while others sought to create new communities that were more focused on bringing like-minded users together). Finally, research can also focus on whether and how mastery of digital technologies such as gaming, photography, and post-production can involve meaningful effort that could count as serious leisure and, therefore, consumer work.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, we sought to explore how consumer work can enable consumers to experience agency. Drawing on an emerging line of theorizing that questions the pessimistic view of work inevitably being alienating (Gabriel and Lang 2015), we examine the possibilities for consumer work to avoid exploitation (Chertkovskaya and Loacker 2016). In so doing, we identify how the analog revival offers one way for consumers to experience agency through consumer work. We identify that it is the process of consumer work, including the work of reducing alienation, as well as the outcomes, that provides consumers with shifting experiences of agency. As to whether serious leisure offers only fleeting forms of agency, only time will tell, although we hope that much like an expired film, a well-loved vinyl record, or a warm synth track, the decay may be slow, and characterized by happy accidents that provide consumers with joy.

DATA COLLECTION STATEMENT

Data were collected by the first two authors in Australia, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom. The first author collected the ethnographic and interview data for all three technologies. The second author collected interview data with consumers of vinyl in New Zealand. Data were analyzed by the first two authors, with checks provided by the third author. The data are currently stored in a shared Dropbox folder accessible to all three authors and have also been archived in a ResearchBox.

Author notes

Michael B. Beverland ([email protected]) is professor of marketing at the School of Strategy & Marketing, University of Sussex, Jubilee Building, Arts Rd, Falmer, Brighton & Hove, BN1 9SL, UK.

Karen V. Fernandez ([email protected]) is associate professor at the School of Marketing, Faculty of Business & Economics, University of Auckland, Private Bag 92019, Auckland 1142, New Zealand.

Giana M. Eckhardt ([email protected]) is professor of marketing at King’s Business School, King’s College London, Bus House, 30 Aldwych, London WC2B 4BG, UK and adjunct professor of marketing at the Copenhagen Business School, Copenhagen, Denmark.

The authors thank Pınar Cankurtaran for her critical comments on previous versions of this article. Supplementary materials are included in the web appendix accompanying the online version of this article.

Footnotes

REFERENCES