In something of a social magic trick, Steve’s work inspires human-scale conversation about insurmountable-scale topics, drawing people into the fold through sheer spectacle. Combining blinking lights, rust belt–style sign painter typography and a hacked basketball scoreboard from eBay, Steve’s Capitalism Works for Me is a rolling political icebreaker. He sets the tone for sane conversation with his customary candor, honest curiosity and an array of settle-in/stay-a-while lawn chairs.
It works like this: Steve’s sign rolls into towns and passersby vote whether they think that the sign’s assertion is TRUE or FALSE via a box on an adjacent podium. (There is a timer on the box to discourage score tampering by the ideological and lazy.)
Steve elaborates:
“I’m excited that this piece takes on what for most Americans is a taboo, or even nonexistent subject: whether global, hegemonic capitalism actually works for most people. But whew, talking about that is boring! And telling people what to think is worse! This sign gets passersby to participate in a deceptively simple vote (True/ False) which only pretends to offer resolution. Every aspect of the interaction draws them in to more complex questions and conversations, leading to new thoughts and ideas about a better world!” ᔥ visitsteve.com
And if you’re slightly socially awkward in initiating conversation (like your humble narrator here), you might benefit from Steve’s handy-dandy instructions on How to Talk With Anyone. I’m unsure whether Capitalism Works for Me is art or design or talking-therapy-on-the-scale-of-a-small-town, but it is undeniably wonderful.
Spectacle may be the most palatable way to bring people together around an issue that they normally don’t wish to discuss. (And that is fine—there are oodles of lightbulbs in the world.) But implicit in Steve’s work is some bigger belief that he is testing out: If we can all just get together and talk, can’t we find some common ground (and maybe even fix some stuff??)? That’s, like, the foundation of democratic society, after all…
(And, would you just look at those rounded As!? Holy smokes!)
