"One of the experts bought his first piece at the age of four, so they did start very young, most of them. They did it out of genuine interest but today's kids are much more materialistic and there's a danger, I suppose, that they might just be out to make dosh"
About this Quote
Aspel’s line is doing that very British trick of sounding like a mild anecdote while sneaking in a cultural diagnosis. He starts with a charming origin story - a child collector at four - because innocence is the strongest possible alibi. The “experts” didn’t become experts by chasing status; they were supposedly preloaded with “genuine interest,” a kind of pure, pre-commercial curiosity. That setup isn’t neutral. It’s a contrast machine, engineered to make the present look compromised.
Then comes the pivot: “today’s kids are much more materialistic.” It’s less a data claim than a generational mood, the familiar media lament that childhood has been colonized by money. Aspel’s rhetorical hedge (“there’s a danger, I suppose”) lets him indict without sounding like a scold; the softness is part of the persuasion. He’s performing reasonableness while inviting the audience to share the suspicion.
“Make dosh” is key. It’s colloquial, almost cheeky, and it recasts a potentially elite activity (collecting, expertise, taste) as something threatened by street-level hustle. Subtext: the hobby becomes a marketplace, and the kid becomes a small entrepreneur. In the background is a late-20th/early-21st-century shift where collectibles, antiques, and even fandom get financialized - eBay culture, flipping, “investment pieces,” the idea that everything can be monetized.
Aspel isn’t just mourning kids; he’s defending a certain notion of cultural value: that the best relationships to objects are slow, nerdy, and non-transactional. The anxiety is that when profit becomes the point, expertise turns into a sales pitch and taste into a strategy.
Then comes the pivot: “today’s kids are much more materialistic.” It’s less a data claim than a generational mood, the familiar media lament that childhood has been colonized by money. Aspel’s rhetorical hedge (“there’s a danger, I suppose”) lets him indict without sounding like a scold; the softness is part of the persuasion. He’s performing reasonableness while inviting the audience to share the suspicion.
“Make dosh” is key. It’s colloquial, almost cheeky, and it recasts a potentially elite activity (collecting, expertise, taste) as something threatened by street-level hustle. Subtext: the hobby becomes a marketplace, and the kid becomes a small entrepreneur. In the background is a late-20th/early-21st-century shift where collectibles, antiques, and even fandom get financialized - eBay culture, flipping, “investment pieces,” the idea that everything can be monetized.
Aspel isn’t just mourning kids; he’s defending a certain notion of cultural value: that the best relationships to objects are slow, nerdy, and non-transactional. The anxiety is that when profit becomes the point, expertise turns into a sales pitch and taste into a strategy.
Quote Details
| Topic | Youth |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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