In an era defined by economic uncertainty, one truth remains remarkably consistent: People still want what signals value, status, and meaning, sometimes because it costs more. The focus is often on other people, while sometimes it's to reward or treat yourself. 

Economist Thorstein Veblen coined the term Veblen Goods more than a century ago to describe products whose desirability increases as their price rises. Unlike traditional supply-and-demand logic, these goods thrive on visibility, scarcity, and signaling. The higher the price, the stronger the pull.

At its core, the Veblen effect is not about functionality. It’s about social positioning. 

Status signaling is the primary driver. Expensive luxury goods function as visible markers of economic power. A $20,000 handbag or a $300,000 watch isn’t purchased because it performs better; it’s purchased because its price guarantees exclusivity. The cost itself becomes the feature.

Perceived quality reinforces this behavior. Higher prices create assumptions of superior craftsmanship, rarity, or experience. Studies repeatedly show that people genuinely believe a $500 bottle of wine tastes better than a $50 one because the price influences perception. While price can correlate with quality, in Veblen goods that relationship becomes intentionally amplified.

Exclusivity and scarcity further intensify demand. As prices rise, fewer people can participate. Limited editions, waitlists, and inaccessible price points create a closed circle, desirability increases precisely because most people are excluded.

Identity construction plays an equally powerful role. Luxury consumption becomes a way people communicate who they are and who they are not. Brands and products function as shorthand for taste, discernment, and belonging to a particular cultural tier.

Finally, there is social competition. As wealth increases within peer groups, the signals required to maintain relative status escalate. What once impressed no longer does. The bar keeps moving upward.

This is why classic Veblen categories, Hermès, Rolex, Ferrari, fine art, premium spirits, lose desirability if prices fall. If everyone can access them, their signaling power collapses.

What’s notable today isn’t that Veblen behavior exists, it’s that it spans income levels. From ultra-luxury dining to everyday “treat yourself” purchases, conspicuous consumption has re-entered the cultural conversation in a big way.

A recent New York Times article, “A New Gilded Age: Conspicuous Consumption Has Returned to Restaurants in New York City,” captured this phenomenon perfectly. Julia Moskin reported on jaw-dropping menu prices across the city: a $435 tomahawk steak at Le Chêne in the West Village, a $260 turbot fillet, a $600 whole suckling pig at La Grande Boucherie in Midtown, and a nearly $70 lobster roll at Lex Yard in the Waldorf Astoria.

The most telling quote came from Le Chêne’s chef: “The more expensive it is, the faster it sells.”  That statement alone could serve as a modern definition of a Veblen good.

These prices aren’t justified solely by ingredients or labor. They’re justified by experience, visibility, and permission. Ordering the most expensive item isn’t just a meal, it’s a declaration. It says: I can. I choose to. This matters to me.

Veblen isn’t about wealth, it’s about signaling. Crucially, Veblen behavior isn’t limited to the ultra-rich. People across economic strata participate in scaled versions of the same instinct. A $600 meal and a $32 artisanal smoothie aren’t comparable in price, but they are comparable in psychology. Both offer a moment of indulgence and a visible marker of taste or discernment.  Emotional permission to feel rewarded. 

In uncertain times, these signals become even more important. When the future feels unpredictable, people anchor themselves to symbols of control, status, and self-worth whether that’s a Michelin-adjacent dinner or a meticulously sourced bottle of water.

A prime example of accessible Veblen is Splendor Water, an elevated water experience with a reachable price tag.  Splendor is an ultra-premium volcanic water sourced from a sacred artesian aquifer in La Maná, Ecuador. Naturally filtered through ancient lava and basalt rock from the Cotopaxi Volcano, it is bottled directly at the source and preserved in a signature ergonomic cobalt blue bottle designed to protect its living molecular structure.

The water itself is pristine and mineral-rich, naturally enriched with ideal electrolyte levels and trace colloidal gold and silver transforming hydration into a daily wellness ritual.

“Splendor isn’t just bottled water; it’s a living water with a story rooted in healing, spirituality, and nature’s intelligence,” says Sara Couch, General Manager, who runs the company alongside her father, David Couch.

Discovered on land owned by Dr. Guillermo Sotomayor, Splendor gained attention after researchers identified rare mineral content and unusual energetic properties associated with the aquifer. The site is also home to archaeological artifacts believed to hold spiritual and astronomical significance, further reinforcing Splendor’s identity as a water of ritual, reverence, and renewal. Unlike many so-called premium waters engineered through processing, pH manipulation, or added electrolytes, Splendor remains untouched and naturally alive. It is said to support performance, focus, and revitalization without intervention—an important distinction for today’s discerning wellness consumer.

You don’t market Veblen goods by explaining value in spreadsheets. You ignite desire by shaping perception.

For Veblen goods, price is part of the story, not an objection to overcome. The goal isn’t to justify why something costs more—it’s to articulate why it belongs in a category of its own.

This is where public relations becomes essential.  PR doesn’t just create awareness; it creates context. It places a product inside a cultural narrative where its price feels inevitable, even necessary. Without that narrative, a high price feels arbitrary. With it, the price becomes proof.

Veblen goods whose desirability and demand increase precisely because of their rarity, price, and meaning.  

What makes a true Veblen good isn’t just its price point, it’s the ecosystem around it. This is how Veblen demand is built: not by chasing mass appeal, but by creating cultural permission for desire.  Marketing Veblen goods in today’s economy isn’t about excess for excess’s sake. It’s about understanding that people, rich and not-so-rich alike, still crave symbols of value, control, and meaning.  When done correctly, higher prices don’t repel consumers; they attract them. But only when supported by story, scarcity, and credibility.

You can’t manufacture that with ads alone. You need PR to ignite the system.  Because in a modern Gilded Age, the question isn’t why is it so expensive?  It’s why wouldn’t it be?