rebecca reidel

In order to get to the root of this question one must first examine how the cardboard box functions as a symbol and signifier of meaning? One of the boxes still strewn around my room, labeled ‘Fresh Baked Goods,’ was particularly appealing for this analysis because of the irony of the total lack of the relationship of the label to what I knew (or imagined) it to now contain. I therefore chose this box as the object of my ethnographic analysis.

The first stage of my analysis only involved visual observation. I decided to attempt to glean only what information could be deduced from a visual examination of the exterior of the sealed box. In its first order symbolic meaning I read it as both a vehicle for and a record of daily activities of transaction. It implied commercial exchange and the physical movement of goods from one place to another; in a word – capitalism. The cardboard box is also a testament to our modern culture of disposable goods. Every day we see stacks of broken down or dismantled boxes piled on the streets for recycling collection.  Boxes are, in a sense, made with the intent of being discarded. Part of the process of their creation implies their inevitable transition into a state of disuse and obsolescence. But how is this obsolescence marked? One would assume that obsolescence comes with the loss of functionality, so perhaps we must first consider the function of this cardboard box.

Boxes often have labels or even images of what they contain on the exterior (both for advertisement purposes but also to ensure that there is no confusion about what is contained within). The first order label on our box, as I have noted above, read ‘Fresh Baked Goods,’ a quite literal labeling of the contents. The proportions and construction of the object are also vital for its meaning as they allow us to imagine the contents within. Just to illustrate this point by way of an anecdote, one thinks of the practical joke of placing a very small gift in an enormous (almost entirely empty) box. There is an expectation on the part of the receiver (or opener) that the box contains an amount of goods proportionate to its size. In this way the dimensions of the object can be read as an index of the contents within. If one discovers that the contents are indeed too small for the container, the receiver of the gift is startled and will likely feel as though he/she has been deceived. The object being studied here is, of course, not a gift due to the very different nature of the exchange act, as well as the commercial quality of its production, as demarcated by the label ‘Fresh Baked Goods.’

It can be inferred from the label on the exterior of the box, again without any physical engagement with it, that it was created in order to house baked goods for transport from the bakery to the place of distribution. Thus, once this task has been completed, the container is rendered obsolete. The box cannot be reused by the receiver because the label reads ‘Fresh Baked Goods.’ This label is taken as a true reflection of the contents, and so reuse of this obsolete box is not even a consideration, despite the fact that it is still perfectly ‘functional’ as a container.

The final stage in my analysis of the object required a tactile engagement with it; for this is the only way to asses the trueness of the label. One needs to feel the weight of the box in order to verify the congruence of label and content. Is it full, or is it empty? This question, and the answer, is vital for understanding the position of the box in its life cycle. If it is empty (unless you are in a box factory) the primary function of the box has likely already been carried out and it is awaiting either destruction or reuse. If it is full (and sealed) then one has to ask if the weight of the box is consistent with the exterior labeling. Does it contain what it claims to contain? If a TV box is extremely light then the contents are likely incongruent with the first-order labeling. The incongruity indicates that the box is in a reuse stage and also suggests that the contents of the box are not commercial but domestic; possibly blankets or linens being moved, or wool sweaters that are being stored to protect them from moths during the summer months.

The tactile characteristics of the box (weight and when applicable sound) surely affect the way in which one relates to the box. If it does not contain what is indicated on the exterior certain judgments are pronounced. For example, the box could be tossed aside as junk, as in the case of the TV box full of blankets. There is a certain class distinction to be made, as well. For the reuse of an old box as opposed to the buying of a new one from the post office suggests that the packer of the box cannot afford a new box. Thus the imagined value of the contents (even though as far as we KNOW it could be full of jewelry and antiques) is extremely low.

However, this is where a reading of any second-order labels always becomes vital, because boxes are sometimes subject to reuse, as was the case with the particular example that I chose to analyze. I took it off the street and reassembled it for the secondary purpose of transporting an entirely different array of goods. In this type of reuse the exterior markings and labels are often replaced by handwritten markings reading: “fragile,” “kitchen,” or “bedroom.” In my case I re-marked the box with the word ‘desk’ scrawled on the top with a purple sharpie. This second order labeling is understood as a redefinition of the object. The box has gone from the role of a vehicle of commercial exchange to one of domestic use. It is clear to the outside observer that this is no longer functioning in the realm of commercial exchange; the handwritten markings become the new signifier of the contents. Rather than indicating the specific objects contained within, a destination is now provided, so that the movers know which boxes to place where and so I, the packer, can have a means through which to identify the contents prior to unpacking. This act of personalization and naming marks a new stage in the life of the object, for it has gone from ‘garbage’ to container once again.

Of course it is only with the opening of the box that one can be entirely certain of its contents and at the very moment of opening the function and meaning of the box will be altered. For the exterior features and labeling instantaneously loose their signifying power as the contents within are actually revealed and allowed to represent themselves.

Thus it can be argued that, in lieu of any other method for discerning the contents of a cardboard box, the physical box itself takes on the function of defining that which is contained within. It, in its component parts, is the signifier.