Being an academic temporarily separated from the comfy world of abstract debates in seminars, I jumped at the chance to go to a lecture of leading sociologist of information Manuel Castells, held at the central bank. Although a rather excellent lecture from a great theorist, I learned more about the Dominican political class through participant observation than I learned about globalisation, development and the information society. The social anthropology on show was far more evident than the sociology being discussed. It was fascinating. Very similar to the displays of territoriality of silverback gorillas, or more aptly, peacocks.

It soon became rapidly clear that people had turned up not because they were interested in hearing the thoughts of a leading intellectual, but because to maintain their position in the political class they had to be seen to be in attendance. First off, entering the auditorium I noticed that I was virtually the only person not wearing a suit, which means that there were very few academics in attendance, as we would never dream of dignifying a visiting acadmic by making the effort to wear a suit and tie. It would give them too great a sense of self-importance, not good in our egotistic game. Having said that, perhaps it is different here, as Dominicans put an extraordinary effort into presentation - I am convinced that one of their biggest imports is shoe polish. How they maintain a mirror-like surface on black leather whilst living in a dirty, dusty, muddy city is beyound me. I noticed the relation between one's position in multi-stratered Dominican aristocracy and where one parks one's 4*4 (or yipeta as they are known), but this is a topic akin to heraldic shields, and will be explored at a later point.

Anyway, I tried to take my seat, I was asked by a steward which institution I was affiliated. I rose up, puffed out my chest at a the chance to show I was an international intellectual and informed her that I was from the University of Manchester, England, dontchaknow? I was was promptly informed that I could not sit in the front five (half empty) rows, and must sit towards the back of the auditorium. Imagine a lecture in the UK having reserved seating, the outrage there would be. Mind you, the situation would be the reverse, as everyone sits at the back so that they could get a quick exit before the Q and A. Here it is different, it is a clear mark of social status, the proximity to the front. Mere academics are not rated as wanted guests at a lecture by a Professor of Sociology, and must sit several rows behind the government officials, leading businessmen and bizarrely a four star general resplendant in ceremonial uniform. They had to be seen to be in attendance.

Of course, they wouldn't do something as humble as listening to the speaker, they had important things to do, mainly making sure that people notice them. Within seconds of Manuel Castells starting, the first mobile phone sounded. Normally in the UK this prompt a cutting remark from the chairperson, or at the very least a double-checking of pockets and handbags to ensure that you wouldn't be the next victim of a barrage of dissaproving tutting. Here, inaction was the policy and therefore the talk was punctuated every thirty seconds by another CrazyFrog. If they were not letting the phones ring, or even worse, answering them, the audience members took the opportunity to chat the people sat around them. Not a subtle whisper to the person sat adjacent, but a full conversation with your friend three rows back.

The anthropology in this is simple. The social credit gained from people looking at you whilst you talk on the latest mobile phone or chat to somebody, is far greater than any potential social credit lost through interrupting one of the world's leading intellectuals. In fact, the more distinguished the speaker is, the more likely it is that they are interrupted by some trivial phone conversation, as what better way of asserting that you are more important than someone than by interrupting their lecture. The more trivial the interruption, and the more eminent the speaker, the more social status gained. Phone etiquette, such as the totalitarian response that I employ in my classes (if one of my students' phone rings, I answer it, normally with an obscenity), is a completely alien culture here.

The actual lecture that was the distant backdrop to this battle for social supremacy was extremely good. Castells based his lecture on Latin America as a whole, claiming ignorance of the details of the Dominican development experience, and as result I don't know if he appreciates how much he insulted the way of thinking of those present. Firstly he described as outrageous the fact that the DR has had the fastest growing economy in Latin America as well as the fastest growing inequality, and he did so to an audience that had arrived in brand new yipetas, were clearly the ruling elite of the country, and had no intention of addressing the fact that they were the root cause of inequality. Secondly, he stated that the information economy came from lots of failed venture capital in micro-companies that were financed by a few successful startups, to an audience of people who maintain their economic power by stamping on the fingers below (like any academic, I will substantiate this with references, but at a later date). And thirdly, he stated that development in the information age comes from state investment in the things that facilitate increase productivity, rather than grandiose development schemes. This in a country that has cut the education budget to finance a fantastically expensive and probably unworkable Metro system. But of course, a Metro system will always win over investments in education, because it leaves a presidential legacy of Development, Modernity, Progress, Civilisation and turning the DR into a carbon copy of New York.

Of course, the fascinating bit came at the questions. The chair explicitly banned people from making long protacted points about their own perspective in the guise of a question. Imagine trying to do that at an academic conference - there would be lynching! However, although I didn't miss the egotripping, the questions betrayed a lamentable Dominican trait, which is a lack of critical thinking. The questions were simple, boring and largely irrelevant, not challenging any of the ideas discussed, or asking certain points to be expanded upon. I would have lobbed an incisive googly, but sitting in row six I wasn't allowed. An academic here described to me how there isn't the culture in the DR that there is in the rest of Latin America of critical intellectuals, for the simple reason that Dominicans can't take criticism. Here people get offended and will never speak to you again if you even attempt to constructively criticise them, and will kill your pets in return for a mild reproach. Social standing is everything, and woe betide he who is seen to be undermining it. The only way you can make progress is to say "well, you know, perhaps if I was in your shoes, but of course you know best, but perhaps I would consider...."

If people are not prepared to ask the questions, is it little wonder that this country has not provided any answers.