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- Herausgeber: John Wiley & Sons
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
A superyacht is a boat that exceeds 30 metres in length, with some surpassing even 100 metres--more than a football field. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, there were about 2,000 of these vessels in the world; two decades and a financial crisis later, there are three times as many. Grégory Salle argues that these are not whimsical fads: on the contrary, luxury yachting highlights the social exclusivity of the wealthiest and the environmental waste they emit. Rather than being simply the plaything of billionaires with extravagant lifestyles, the superyacht offers a disconcerting reflection of the world as it is. A contemporary form of ostentatious seclusion, a magnifying glass for social inequalities, the superyacht leads us straight to the great questions of our time, including the question of ecocide. From class struggle to the over-consumption of the rich, from tax evasion to environmental crime, from eco-bleaching to the differential management of illegalities, to pull the thread of super yachting is to unspool the whole ball of capitalism.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Abbreviations & acronyms
Preface to the English edition
1 A colossus at anchor
2 One form of excess can conceal another
3 Floating palaces
4 Specimens
5 UHNWI
6 Yachting lifestyle
7 The ‘abode of production’
8 Amsterdam’s Red Party
9 ISF-IFI & Co.
10 Riding the (financial) storm
11 Conspicuous seclusion
12 The political geography of luxury sailing
13 Playing the eco-friendly card (greenwashing)
14 Posidonia
15 The Marine Observatory
16 At sea/in a meeting
17 Caught red-handed
18 When Capitalocene and eco-socialism take to the water …
Sources
Academic texts
Grey literature and specialized sources
General media
Videos
Notes and references
End User License Agreement
List of Illustrations
Frontmatter
Figure 1
Portofino © Domenico FaronePixabay
Chapter 11
Figure 2
Hide yacht (49.9 m) © Anna Borla Design & Yachts
Chapter 14
Figure 3
Posidonia © Florent Beau – Espaces Maritimes. Communauté de communes du golfe de …
Guide
Cover
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Abbreviations & acronyms
Preface to the English edition
Begin Reading
Sources
Notes and references
End User License Agreement
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Superyachts
Luxury, Tranquility and Ecocide
Grégory SalleTranslated by Helen Morrison
polity
Originally published in French as Superyachts. Luxe, calme et écocide© Éditions Amsterdam, 2021
This English edition © Polity Press, 2024
Polity Press65 Bridge StreetCambridge CB2 1UR, UK
Polity Press111 River StreetHoboken, NJ 07030, USA
All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purpose of criticism and review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13 978-1-5095-5996-1
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023938505
The publisher has used its best endeavours to ensure that the URLs for external websites referred to in this book are correct and active at the time of going to press. However, the publisher has no responsibility for the websites and can make no guarantee that a site will remain live or that the content is or will remain appropriate.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have been overlooked the publisher will be pleased to include any necessary credits in any subsequent reprint or edition.
For further information on Polity, visit our website:politybooks.com
Acknowledgements
My thanks first of all to the team at the Saint-Tropez Marine Observatory (now known as ‘Services espaces maritimes de la communauté de communes du golfe de Saint-Tropez’), who opened my eyes to the issues associated with the Posidonia seagrass meadows and so, unintentionally, launched me in an unforeseen direction. I have the greatest admiration for the work done by the professionals at the observatory and I am very much aware that the role of an ‘outsider’ is incomparably more comfortable than that of the actor dealing with the day-to-day challenges of the terrain.
Thanks also to Allan, whose wise suggestions enriched the original manuscript, and to Eva and Anne-Laure for their meticulous work.
I am grateful to Helen for the English translation, to Susan for her work on the manuscript and to Elise for her assistance at Polity.
And a special thank you to Christiane and Roland, Isa and Nina.
Abbreviations & acronyms
AIS
Automatic identification system
ATTAC
Association pour la taxation des transactions financières et pour l’action citoyenne (Association for the Taxation of Financial Transactions and for Citizens’ Action)
CEN
Conservatoire d’espaces naturels (Association for the Protection of Natural Areas)
DDTM
Direction départementale des territoires et de la mer (Local Department for Land and Sea)
DREAL
Direction régionale de l’environnement de l’aménagement et du logement (Regional Department for the Environment, Planning and Housing)
EU
European Union
GIS
Groupement d’intérêt scientifique (Scientific interest group)
HNWI
High Net Worth Individuals
ICOMIA
International Council of Marine Industry Associations
IFI
Impôt sur la fortune immobilière (Tax on real estate)
INSEE
Institut national de la statistique et études économiques (National Institute of Statistics and Economic Studies)
ISF
Impôt de solidarité sur la fortune (Wealth tax)
LSE
London School of Economics
MYBA
Mediterranean Yacht Broker Association (Worldwide Yachting Association)
OFCE
Observatoire français des conjonctures économiques (French Economic Observatory)
PACA
Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur
PFU
Prélèvement forfaitaire unique (≈ flat tax)
RNLI
Royal National Lifeboat Institution
SNSM
Société nationale de sauvetage en mer (≈ French National Lifeboat Company)
UHNWI
Ultra-High-Net-Worth-Individuals
UNESCO
United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization
ZMEL
Zone de mouillage et d’équipement léger (Anchorage and light equipment zone – regulated maritime area)
Figure 1 Portofino © Domenico FaronePixabay
Preface to the English edition
‘Social Space: to recognize the space in which one finds oneself, one must discover its limits’ declared Max Horkheimer (1994, p. 76) in a note written in the 1920s. The statement is both simple and haunting. In its own way, the book you are about to read reflects this idea. Begun in 2019, it was based on the premise that however futile they may seem, ‘superyachts’ (a convenient name which is in itself a symbolic show of strength, in the same way that so-called ‘smartphones’ are not in fact as ‘intelligent’ as their name implies), provide valuable insight into a telling aspect of the world in which we live, in a way that goes beyond their innate extravagance. As I write this preface, two years after its publication in France in April 2021, a number of events or incidents have served to confirm this idea.
In the intervening period, what was referred to at the end of the book, in a half-joking way, has taken on a more serious turn. In the context of Western sanctions against Russian assets, following the military invasion of Ukraine, a number of luxury yachts belonging to figures (believed to be) close to the Kremlin have been frozen in various home ports, usually while undergoing refits. This explains why a vessel believed to belong – via a shell entity – to Vladimir Putin and ironically named Graceful(the Russian despot is also reputed to be the indirect owner of Scheherazade, estimated to be worth 700 million euros when seized by Italian authorities in May 2022), which had spent several months docked in the port of Hamburg undergoing a refit, abruptly but discreetly left the location shortly before Russian troops invaded Ukraine. In fact, an extraordinary game of hide and seek was being played out between Russian oligarchs and government authorities, assisted by an informal community tracking vessels via geo-localization sites and social-media networks – even Forbes magazine got involved! A considerable number of superyachts known or presumed to be owned by Russian billionaires sought refuge in the Maldives, in Montenegro, in the Seychelles or elsewhere, sometimes (illegally) cutting their automatic identification systems in order to avoid being detected. The inexhaustible charms of the offshore economy …
It is easy to see where the value of a punitive seizure of such vessels would lie, at a time when most great accumulations of wealth have been rendered invisible as a result of the financialization of capital, a phenomenon that increases incrementally the higher you go up the scale of wealth. Such a ‘catch’ is visible, tangible and concrete. The imposing physical presence of the intended target paradoxically gives it a powerful symbolic dimension. It is, however, a falsely impressive capture, not least because of the legal fragility of the process involved. Nor does it go far enough in the context of any serious attempt at regulation. As Gabriel Zucman (2015) points out, setting up a register of financial wealth would be necessary in order to be able to tax, or perhaps freeze, the movable and immovable assets of the very wealthy, most of which are located abroad. This is a measure that is opposed by Western oligarchs, and not only by their reviled counterparts … Nevertheless, there is clear evidence that requisition, which may once have seemed a far-fetched or at least unrealistic concept, is in fact by no means impossible.
Somewhat earlier, in February 2022, an isolated and ostensibly anecdotal case made the headlines. Rotterdam city council announced their intention to dismantle a bridge built in 1927 (to say nothing of a previous one built half a century earlier), and classified as a national monument, in order to allow Jeff Bezos to sail his new superyacht, with its imposing three masts, out of the port. It seems that this absurd demand came close to being accepted, by a social-democrat mayor; moreover, in spite of the fact that in 2017, following renovation work, the bridge had been accorded protected status. The process was eventually halted thanks to a social protest movement, admittedly online, though threatening to take on a more physical manifestation in the form of a mass event in which rotten eggs would be hurled at the vessel. The incident was apparently finally resolved in July 2022, when the naval shipyard agreed to withdraw the request made to the town councillors. Nevertheless, the whole story speaks volumes about the extent of the power (a mix of symbolic recognition and the potential to influence) that our society unduly confers on material wealth.
Such one-off events, spectacular as they are, should not, however, distract attention from some deep-rooted and highly telling economic tendencies. The luxury yacht sector survived the global financial crisis, which began in 2007–2008, without any lasting ill effects, particularly at the top end of the market. The observation is even more striking in the context of the Covid-19 pandemic – or rather ‘syndemic’, to use the term proposed by Richard Horton, editor-in-chief of The Lancet and someone we shall encounter somewhat unexpectedly in the course of this book. Not only did the luxury yachting market emerge unscarred, but it was in fact almost boosted as a result of this challenge, as was the case with the wealth of billionaires in general. The sector was indeed flourishing in 2021, whether in the context of new sales or the second-hand market, sales and rentals, construction and refits. Order books were full (at the end of 2021, over 1,000 superyachts were on order, while almost 900 had been sold in the same year – almost twice as many as in 2020) and prices were on the rise. Over a more extended period, the growth of the sector since the 1980s reflects what Branko Milanović (2016) called ‘the emergence of global plutocracy’, with all that implies in terms of social separatism ‘from the top’. Manufacturers were left in no doubt and willingly played up the card of a sound investment in the case of confinement – what better way to respect ‘social distancing’ in the best possible conditions. The superyacht would pass for the perfect incarnation of the concept of liberté–délivrance (freedom–release) analysed by the philosopher Aurélien Berlan (2021), if the frenzied quest for space by a few multibillionaires had not pushed the desire for an ‘exit’ even further …
Criticizing the lifestyle of the ultra-rich does not, however, always get a good press, including from those who denigrate socio-economic inequalities. For Louis Maurin (2021), director of the Observatoire des inégalités in France, focusing criticism on the ultra-rich means ignoring an affluent class who are less visible but more numerous. By limiting things to ‘1%’, he argued, we are forgetting the 8% of ‘wealthy people’ (with individual earnings of more than 3,500 euros per month net after tax) and the 20% of ‘privileged individuals’ at the top level of social stratification in France. Unless the entire social structure is taken into account, criticizing the ultra-rich would be easy but not strictly pertinent. Such criticism of criticism, which also lambasts the myopia and even duplicity of an economically protected left-leaning intellectual bourgeoisie, deserves to be taken into account, even if only as a safeguard. It is true that a narrow focus on a handful of billionaires could result in a distorted view, both of class structure in general and of the mechanisms that generate inequalities. This approach nevertheless raises a number of problems, both from a sociological and from a political point of view. It places undue focus on inequalities in income rather than on inequalities in assets and a fortiori on inequalities within the relations of production. Furthermore, it ignores the considerable disparities existing within the very heart of the chosen categories and the dizzying extent to which wealth is monopolized by a very small number of individuals. Is it reasonable to criticize salary levels that, however high they may be in relative terms, are nevertheless justifiable in absolute terms and even represent a pay level to which all workers should be able to aspire without shame, while at the same time minimizing the gulf separating them from concentrations of wealth that are utterly indefensible?
With regard to the ecological aspect, Andreas Malm demonstrates that the distinction first suggested thirty years ago between ‘luxury emissions’ and ‘subsistence emissions’ (of CO2), has lost nothing of its relevance and is, on the contrary, still pertinent today. Explicitly mentioning superyachts, he goes as far as to point out that luxury emissions are even less acceptable in the current situation and must therefore be regarded as a priority target. ‘This is crime sold as ideal living’ he declares (Malm, 2021, p. 91), referring to the encouragement of a consumption that, conspicuous though it may be, nevertheless remains destructive. Indeed, articles calling for an urgent focus on the damage caused by the lifestyles of the wealthiest individuals or social groups and their completely excessive carbon footprint can now be found in natural science publications as well as in those relating to the social sciences (Otto et al., 2019; Barros and Wilk, 2021; Chancel, 2022). Of course, putting a certain emphasis on superyachts in no way exonerates other forms of pollution, which are at least as damaging, such as, for example, those caused by cruise ships with their thousands of passengers. Clearly a whole range of practices, relating to both work and leisure, need to be re-examined. What is more, the problems caused by the lifestyle of the super-rich are definitely not confined to the sphere of consumption. In reality, they stem from both the social organization of production and from investment (in fossil fuels in particular), not to mention intense lobbying to steer the framing of the climate catastrophe to their own benefit (Morena, 2023).
A few words, finally, on the collection in which this book was published in French, since this explains the somewhat unusual style used in the book in comparison with traditional academic norms. Called ‘L’ordinaire du capital’ (The everyday face of capital), this collection was initially intended to contribute to a critique of everyday life, as shaped by capitalism, through the publication of ‘literary documents’. Since then, the collection has included literature, journalism and social science in a range of books which do not hesitate to mix genres or blur boundaries. This is the explanation behind the approach adopted in this book with its different written styles including first-person narrative, prosopopoeia and elements of mockery … It seemed to me, in fact, that the subject demanded an approach that was both serious and playful. It goes without saying, however, that humour in no way prevents a serious tone. A playground for the extravagantly luxurious boats belonging to a number of individuals, the Mediterranean is, at the same time, a place of death for others – the refugees and migrants who die at sea in their thousands each year while attempting to land their fragile vessels on the European coast.
The original subtitle was a somewhat provocative nod to the famous line ‘Luxe, calme et volupté’ from Charles Baudelaire’s poem ‘L’invitation au voyage’, and also an allusion to a painting of the same name by Henri Matisse, created in Saint-Tropez in 1904, when he was in the region as a guest of his fellow painter (and experienced yachtsman) Paul Signac. Which is also the place where the story begins …
Chapter 1A colossus at anchor
I arrived via the main road that runs along the southern side of the bay, and parked in the carpark for the so-called new port. By the time I had stretched my legs after the journey I was already half-way between the fire station and the VIP Room, one of the fashionable discotheques in the area. I had two whole hours ahead of me for a carefully planned operation. Thoroughly caught up in what I had come to do, albeit still somewhat sceptical, I was about to take a close look at the boats moored along the quay, something I would never previously have dreamt of, given the extent to which anything relating to the open sea had always struck me as profoundly boring. Even more surprisingly, having already caught a distant glimpse of a huge vessel moored near the lighthouse, I was anticipating a really big prize. Until that moment, the sight of moored yachts, or rather, the sight of a tight knot of curious onlookers gaping at moored yachts, would have depressed me, yet here I was – one of them. Which goes to show that you should never pass up an opportunity to try out something new …
Indeed, it was not without a certain enthusiasm that I found myself heading towards the marina on this mild morning (the Côte d’Azur was certainly living up to the name first coined for it in 1887 by Stéphen Liégeard with both sky and sea of the promised colour). I even allowed myself time to stroll around a little, glancing at the signs advertising yacht hire, which I had walked past so many times before without even noticing. The offices were closed and the lights off but the advertisements remained clearly visible. With the idea that some visual image might be useful, I tried to take a photo but the glare made my reflection appear too clearly in the window display, as though it were superimposed. Evidently that was not going to work and, after a further and equally unsuccessful attempt, I gave up altogether, putting it off till later, though without any guarantee that I would come back the same way (and indeed, the opportunity never arose again).
For the moment, there were few people around. It was almost the last week in February and, at that time of year, the streets, though not deserted, are generally quiet. The peaceful atmosphere of the village was in sharp contrast to some of the stereotypes associated with the place. The image that comes to mind might perhaps be that of the artists, attracted to the area more than a century ago by the beauty of the light. In spite of changes that would have been inconceivable at that time, some traces of the colourful charm of the old days still linger. Standing in Rue de l’Annonciade, near the site of the eponymous museum, I could see down towards the port and its artists, this time looking perfectly in keeping with the cliché. On the opposite side of the road, like a distillation of historical change, a luxury boutique installed in an old Provençal villa dominated the square.
The area around the port was noticeably more animated, though still a far cry from its summer frenzy. Walking back along the quay, I briefly wondered about making a detour to visit the famous café, visually unmistakable thanks to its red facade. The purpose of my visit would not, however, be to pause for a drink but rather to update data collected in the context of ongoing research on social relationships in a peninsula regarded as a sociological vantage point. Part of this process involved checking prices in situ and, in particular, I was curious to know if the half-pint and pint of ordinary beer had respectively crossed the thresholds of ten and twenty euros. Nevertheless, I continued on my way, though not without a brief pause to take a look at Sea Gull, a regular sight here, forty metres long and built in 1980, as is evident from her vintage appearance, in spite of a recent three-year facelift.
