Authenticity
Fake vs. Authentic: Why We Care
Humans like the real thing, but why?
Posted November 26, 2023 Reviewed by Gary Drevitch
Key points
- In collecting, we respond to beliefs about objects as well as the objects themselves.
- Scientific studies and the experiences of certain neurological syndromes confirm this phenomenon.
- The perception and valuation of collectibles are influenced by their stories and perceived authenticity.
![National Gallery of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons National Gallery of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons](https://cdn2.psychologytoday.com/assets/styles/article_inline_half_caption/public/field_blog_entry_images/2023-11/1024px-Smiling_girl_(Fake_Vermeer).jpg?itok=p6l2Y2Yo)
It is often the stories behind an object that make it important to us. In philosophy, this is known as essentialism — when the characteristics of an object seem necessary to its very function or being. In collecting, essentialism means we respond to beliefs about objects as well as to the objects themselves. Taken further, people feel wronged when they buy art or antiques they think are authentic but later find out that they are not.
The influence of essentialism can be scientifically demonstrated in several ways. One is measuring brain function related to what we are told. When research subjects are placed in an fMRI scanner and given wine to taste, their brain response varies depending on the story they're told about the wine. When the subjects are told a wine is expensive, the front of their brain, the orbitofrontal cortex, is activated. This area is known to code for pleasurable experiences during experiential tasks. On the other hand, there was no reaction in subjects who were informed that they were drinking cheap wine.
For those of us who appreciate art and antiques, the reaction is similar: We would almost certainly be pleased if we see a painting we are told is by Modigliani; however, a well-painted Modigliani reproduction would likely cause us to be less enthused. We want the essence of the painting to be correct, and so we like reproductions less — especially if we have been duped into buying them.
There is a neurological disorder that illustrates this same point in a different way, known as Capgras syndrome. Those afflicted with this come to believe that the people closest to them are actually imposters. They do not respond to loved ones in the warm or affectionate way they did before developing the condition. This delusion can be organic in origin — often, head trauma or dementia is the culprit. Like the participants in the wine experiment, the belief of those with Capgras syndrome is transformed, but in this case, not due to what they are told, but because of the malady.
When considering art and antiques, the information we receive may lead us to discover that the treasure we purchased is not what it was portrayed to be, and so our assessment of its value is lessened. On the other hand, if it is newly found to be by a well-known artist, we are likely to hold it dearer.
Even relatively insignificant objects can become valuable. For example, the shoe that was thrown at President George Bush during an Iraqi press conference in 2008 suddenly gained cachet, leading a Saudi multimillionaire to offer $10 million for it. To him, it was not the actual shoe he treasured but rather the story connected with it that engendered his belief that it had value.
When people are of more modest means, memorabilia of other kinds — a family portrait, a wedding ring, or a childhood confirmation gift — may become valuable to them, not monetarily, but in the memories and the related stories evoked. It is not just the object; it is the object’s meaning to us.
Summary
The concept of essentialism in the context of objects, particularly in collecting art and antiques, highlights how our perception and valuation of items are deeply influenced by their stories and perceived authenticity. This phenomenon is rooted in both philosophical and neurological grounds.
References
Adapted from Shirley M. Mueller, Inside the Head of a Collector: Neurological Forces at Play. Lucia/Marquand, 2019.