FIFTH EDITION
Edited by
STUART
H.
TRAUB A.ND CRARG
State University of New York at Corti and Cortland, New York
F.E. Peacock Publishers, Inc. ltasca. IllinOIS
B.
LITTLE
Th~ori~s of D~vidn(~ FIFTH EDITION
I~I ZApADoCeSKA UNIVERZITA
W
HENle MNE!
PRAvNICKAKNIHOVNA
To Our Children ...
Contents
Adrianne, Heather, Matthew, and Tanna
Preface Introduction CHAPTER
I
h xiii
1
FUNCDONALISM
Introduction 1 The Normal and the Pathological, Emile Durkheim 2 The Sociology of Prostitution, Kingsley Davis 3 On the Sociology of Deviance, Kai T. Erikson
Analysis and Critique 4 The Functionalist Approach to Social Problems, Melvin Tumin Contemporary Application 5
SOCIAL DISORGANIZATION
Introduction 6 The Concept of Social Disorganization, W. 1. Thomas and Florian Znaniecki 7 Social Change and Social Disorganization, Robert E. Park 8 Natural Areas of the City, Robert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunharn Copyright © 1999 FoE. Peacock Publishers, Inc.
All rights reserved Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 98-68251 ISBN 0-87581-419-0 Printed in the U,S.A.
10
9
05
04
8 03
7
6 02
5
4
01
00
3 99
2
1
9 22
30
"Log on to Sex"; Some Notes on the Carnal Computer and Erotic Cyberspace as an
Emerging Research Frontier, Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant CHAPTERII
4
Analysis and Critique 9 The Professional Ideology of Social Pathologists, C. Wright Mills Contemporary Application 10 Community Structure and Drug Use: From a Social Disorganization Perspective, Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
v
42
63
67 71 74
83
107
CHAPTER
CHAPTER
In
IV
ANONIIE
127
Introduction 11 Anomic Suicide, EnUle Durkheim 12 Social Structure and Anomie, Robert K. Merton 13 Illegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behavior, Richard A. Cloward
174
Analysis and Critique 14 The Sociology of the Deviant Act: Anomie Theory and Beyond, Albert K. Cohen
195
Contemporary Application 15 Anomie and Corporate Deviance, Nikos Passas
210
DIFFERENTIAL ASSOCIATION AND NEUTRALIZATION
233
131 142
Introduction 16 The Theory of Differential Association, Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey 237 17 Other People's Money, Donald R. Cressey 244 18 Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency, Gresharn M. Sykes and David Matza 251 Analysis and Critique 19 The Current State of Differential Association
Theory, Ross 1. Matsueda
261
Contemporary Application The Influence of Situational Ethics on
CHAPTER V
CONTROL THEORY
292 303
Introduction
21 22 23
306
Hirschi
312
329
Analysis and Critique
24
Social Control Theory, LaMar T. Empey
LABELlNG AND DEVIANCE
375
Introduction 26 111€ Dramatization of Evil, Frank Tannenbaum 380 27 Primary and Secondary Deviation, Edwin 385 M. Lemert 390 28 Career Deviance, Howard S. Becker 29 The Role of the Mentally ill and the Dynamics of Mental Disorder: A Research 397 Framework, 1110mas J. Scheff Analysis and Critique 30 Societal Reaction and Career Deviance: A Critical Analysis, Milton Mankoff
415
Contemporary Application Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: TIle Development of Deviant Identities, Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
434
POLITICS AND CLASS IN THE STUDY OF DEVLANCE
449
31
CHAPTER
VII
32 33
Symbolic Crusade, Joseph R. Gusfield The Social Reality of Crime, Richard Quinney
34
The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts, and 'Preverts,' Alexander Liazos 472 Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance,
35
Steven Spitzer
343
454 462
495
Analysis and Critique
36
A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment Theory; Walter C. Reckless A Control Theory of Delinquency, Travis The Nature of Criminality: Low SelfControl, Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi
VI
348
Introduction
20
Cheating Among College Students, Donald 1. McCabe
CHAPTER
Contemporary Application 25 Turning Points in the Life Course: Why Change Matters to the Study of Crime, John H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson
The New Criminology: Continuity in Criminological Theory, Robert F. Meier
513
Contemporary Application State-Organized Crime-The American
37
Society of Criminology; 1988 Presidential Address, Williarn J. Charnbllss
529
CHAPTER VIII
NEW DIRECTIONS IN DEVIANCE THEORY
557
Introduction 38 Medicine as an Institution of Social Control: Consequences for Society, Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider 39 Social Change and Crime Rate Trends: A Routine Activity Approach, Lawrence E. Cohen and Mareus Felson 40 Understanding Crime Displacement: An Application of Rational Choice Theory, Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 41 A Theory of Criminal Behavior, James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein 42 The Class Structure of Gender and Delinquency: Toward a Power-Control 111€ory of Common Delinquent Behavior, jolm Hagan, A.R. Giltis, and John Simpson 43 Feminist Theory, Crime, and justice, Sally S. Simpson 44 Crime, Shame and Reintegration, folm Braithwaite
702
Name June.;\: Subject Index
715 733
Preface
563 596
631 646
656 673
This book has been a joint effort since its first edition in 1975. 'This edition, our fifth, is an indication of our continued commitment to the sociology of deviance, to students, and to the balance we bring to this collaborative effort. We are indeed grateful to our former teachers, the input we have received horn students over the years, the suggestions from colleagues, and the assistance we have received from our publlsher, our department secretary, and others who have contributed in immeasurable ways to this edition. Our objective in this fifth edition of Theories o/Deviance remains the same as in the earlier editions: to expose students to theoretical foundation statements from diverse perspectives within sociology_ We believe that a large part of the writing and research concerning deviance emanates from a relatively small number of key passages, which ought to be read in the original. We continue to see substantial value in offering students a varied-as opposed to uniform-theoretical background for the study of deviance. We believe that examination of seminal contributions heightens critical insight and appreciation for the complexities of theory construction, and the selections in the first seven chapters of this edition represent what we see as the mainstream approaches in the sociology of deviance. In this edition we also consider some more recent approaches in the final chapter entitled "New Directions in Deviance Theory." Because these principles remain important to us in our own teaching and in the organization at this edition, many of the readings in prior editions continue to appear, The Analysis and Critique sections at the end of each chapter have also been retained. We have, however, added a new section in each chapter, entitled JlContemporary Application." We believe that this will help to extend the scope and flexibility of the text as a teaching tool. The critiques expose students to the scholarly debate that is central to the theoretical development of any field, while the contemporary applications exemplify current developments of the theories of deviance as well as their usefulness in guiding research. As in prior editions, we continue to include the essay on social struchrre and
ix
anomie from Robert Merton's Social Theonj and Social Sb'lIctllre (Macmillan, 1968), rather than the more frequently reprinted article of tile Sanle title from the Amel1call Sociological Review (October 1938).ln this case, we believe that students can acquire a fuller understanding of anomie theory by reading Merton's more complete formulation of it. In addition to the new Contemporary Application selections, we have included other new readings for a number of the chapters. For instance, in Chapter IV we have replaced the reading in the Analysis and Critique section with Ross Matsueda's article, "The Current State of Differential Association Theory"; in Chapter V we have included WaIter C. Reckless's article, "A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment Theory," as well as an excerpt from A Genei·al Theon) of Crillle, by Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi. Chapter VIII on new directions includes new selections on Hagan, Gillis, and Simpson's power-control theory, Sally S. Simpson's analysis of feminist perspectives, James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein's discussion from Crime and Human Nature, and John Braithwaite's Crime, Shame alld Reilltegratioll. VVhile there is considerable theoretical breadth in the readings selected for the fifth edition of Theories of Deviance, we do not think this will confuse students with disorganized eclectism. The flow of the text follows the development of the sociology of deviance from nineteenthcentury functionalism to the societal reaction school, and the last chapter is devoted to what we perceive to be current issues in the literature. In selecting the readings, we have sought to help students recognize cross-fertilizations, compatibilities, counterpoints, and current developments we have chosen to have represented. Readers must be aware, of course, that every selection should be interpreted as a product of the historical context in which it was written. We gratefully acknowledge the authors and publishers who have granted permission for their works to appear in this text. We continue to be indebted to Richard A. Dodder, Richard J. Gelles, and Arnold S. Linsky for their insightful reaction to the selections and chapter introductions in the first edition. In addition, we extend our appreciation to Barry Cohen, Robert G. Dunn, and James D. Orcutt for their reactions and suggestions concerning the second edition. The fourth edition benefited from the comments of Phil Brown, Joseph Harry, Ronald Kramer, and Richard O'Toole. This fifth edition benefitled from the detailed suggestions, especially concerning contemporary research articles, of Ruth Seydlitz and Susan F. Sharp, as well as comments on the readings by a number of other reviewers. Once again, we express our gratitude to Ted Peacock, president, Richard Welna, publisher, John Beasley, and Kim Vander Steen for making this latest enterprise a pleasant one for us.
Thanks also to Jodi Tallini for her assistance in securing author and publisher permissions, and to Krista CarltoTI, Matthew Ryan, and Gilda Haines for their help with this new edition. Finally, as we have noted in the preceding editions of this text, the order of our names on the cover was decided by a flip of the coin and does not imply that either of us contributed more than the other. Thus, we share equally the responsibility for its success and its shortcomings. Stuart H. Traub Craig B. Little
Introduction
Explaining why some members of a society deviate from its commonly accepted rules, or norms, seems always to have fascinated students of society. Plato apparently wrote The Republic to explain the aberrant behavior of many Athenians, which he interpreted as symptomatic of an underlying social pathology.1 From this early utopian treatlse to Auguste Comte's call for a separate science of society, and continuing to the present, social philosophers often have been concerned with investigating the relationship between social order and disorganization, social control and individual liberty, and conformity and deviance. In this text we have not reached back into the earliest foundations of theories of deviance for our selections. We readily acknowledge that our starting point is somewhat arbitrary. Nevertheless, we want to make it clear that concern for deviance is not an exclusively modem phenomenon, and theories to explain it are not entirely contemporary developments. As American sociologists, we are mainly interested in the origins and themes found in American sociological theories of deviance. 2 In Chapters I-VU we sketdl broadly the evolution of the theories we have chosen to present and define the relationships among them. In Chapter VID, we introduce several more recent, emergent theories or approaches. The French sociologist Emile Durkheim (1858-1917) has surely had a more profound impact on American sociological theorizing about deviance than any other classical European theorist. It was Durkheim who most dramatically gave sociology its raison d'etre by arguing that social facts such as crime rates or suicide rates can be explained adequately only by analyzing uniquely social conditions such as the breakdown in the norms that operate throughout a society. Durkheim's approach was radically sociological because it required the theorist to remain at the
xiii
xiv
Introduction
societallevel of analysis for explanations of social phenomena, rather than searching for presumed psychological or biological causes, Durkheim was clearly opposed to the analytical individualism of his contemporaries, such as the Italian criminologist Cesare Lombroso (1836-1909). Lombroso, generally acknowledged as the founding father of modern criminology, is best known for his biological theory of atavism, which states that criminals are evolutionary throwbacks to earlier stages of physiological development. This aspect of Lombroso's theory is an attempt to explain deviant behavior at the individual level of analysis by reference to the most rudimentary biological determinism, wherein social environmental factors are all but ignored. Durkheim, to the contrary, argued that the existence of crime in a society could be explained without searching for pathology-producing anomalies in the indiyjdual's physical makeup or psyche. Crime, according to Durkheirn, actually helps to maintain a society as a healthy, surviving entity. Thus crime can be accounted for in terms of the functions it performs or the positive contributions it makes to the adaptation and survival of the society. As used in Chapter I, therefore, the term functionalist refers to the theory of Durkheirn and those who have built upon it. David Matza has remarked that the principal legacy of the functionalists was to establish and extend "appreciation" for deviance as a natural product of human collectivities. 3 In doing this, functionalism contributed to the elimination of the initial assumption that deviance is a pathological tralt of the individual or society that must be "cured." However, this contribution was not directly introduced into American sociology until many years after it was ·developed. Durkheim did most of his writing during the late 18005, but it did not have a significant impact on American sociology until Talcott Parsons directed attention to its importance to the functionalist approach in the mid-1900s' When the earliest American sociologists, members of the Department of Sociology at the University of Chicago, studied social problems and deviance in the 1920s and 1930s, they organized most of their work around the idea of social pathology. The Chicago School, as it became ImoVITTI, included theorists such as W. 1. Thomas, Robert E. Park, Ernest Burgess, Clifford R. Shaw, Henry D. McKay, Robert E. L. Faris, and H. Warren Dunham, who were reacting to the rapidly increasing heterogeneity or diversity of American society during the first third of the twentieth century. For these writers, social ills such as juvenile delinquency, suicide, and mental illness were essentially urban problems that could best be understood through a detailed analysis of the urban setting. Their ecological studies of Chicago neighborhoods established that differential rates of deviance could be found in various areas of the city,
Introduction
xv
and, further, that the areas with high rates of deviance were socially disorganized. Social disorganization theory, which is considered in Chapter il, proposed that rapid immigration, industrialization, and urban growth were tending to disrupt or inhibit stable, well-organized patterns of life guided by mutually agreed-upon rules of conduct. As the rules disintegrated during periods of rapid social change, standards to regulate people's behavior and relationships were weakened or disappeared. The resulting social disorganization in areas that were also characterized by other problems such as transient populations, speculative real estate practices, and high rates of disease created fertile ground for social pathologies. The functionalist and social disorganization perspectives converged in American sociology, if somewhat indirectly, in Robert K. Merton's anomie theory, which is discussed in Chapter Ill. The idea of anomie was first proposed by Durkheim, who conceptualized it as a condition of "normlessness" in a society. Not unlike the Chicago theorists, Durkheim suggested that as social rules become less binding due to decreasing consensus in a complex society, people feel less constrained by social norms. As a consequence, evidence of deviance such as crime and suicide is bound to increase. Although this social condition was called anomie, or nonnlessness, by Durkheim, the Chicagoans spoke of it as social disorganization. Both hypothesized that increasing rates of deviance are the result of structural conditions in society. Merton was even more explicit in specifying the societal sources of the breakdown in a consensus about norms and the conditions under which different types of deviance are most likely to emerge. His argument was that when virtually all people in a society are taught to seek culturally prescribed goals (such as occupational success and money) that everyone cannot attain because some do not have access to the legitimate means by which these goals can be secured, the result will be higher rates of deviance. A prediction derived from Merton's theory is that deviance will be more prevalent in the lower socioeconomic classes than in the higher classes because people in the lower classes are less likely to have available to them the legitimate means to success. Therefore, they will be under more strain to use illegitimate means to attain the culturally prescribed ends. Every sociologist was not satisfied with this sort of reasoning, however. One who reacted strongly to it was Edwin H. Sutherland, who offered as an alternative to Merton's analysis his theory of differential association, presented in Chapter N. Sutherland raised two important points about anomie theory. First was the question of how it explains
xvi
Introduction
Introduction
crime outside the lower class (generally, white-collar crime). Middleand upper-class people presumably have access to the legitimate means to success, yet there is evidence of a great deal of white-collar crime. The problem then is how to explain crime among those who do have ac-
cess to legitimate means of success. Second, Sutherland's standard of an adequate theory was that it mllst apply to every single case it is sup-
posed to explain. The method of theory construction he used was analytic induction, which amounts to stating a hypothesis or series of hypotheses about a phenomenon such as crime. If a single case of crime, for example, fails to correspond to a hypothesis about crime, the theorist must redefine that case as something other than a crime. If this is not possible, the hypothesis must be modified to include the case. Sutherland's theory of differential association states that individuals learn criminal techniques and motives in association with others, in exactly the same ways they learn noncrirninal behavior and motives. The primary condition for criminal behavior, therefore, is association with others whose definitions are favorable to violation of the law. Sutherland's theory is a very general one that is intended to explain criminal behavior in any social class. In contrast to Merton's anomie theory, which deals with rates of deviant behavior under specified circumstances, differential association theory distinctly focuses on the interactive (learning) aspects of becoming deviant. The other theorists discussed in Chapter N also draw attention to how, under certain conditions, people go through a process of learning, rationalizing, and decision making that makes deviant behavior possible. In control theory, presented in Chapter V, attention was shifted from exclusive concern with the processes involved in becoming deviant to factors considered important in maintaining conformity. The focal point in understanding deviance clearly, then, is explaining why the majority of people do not deviate. Control theorists pointed out that while individuals are motivated to violate norms, most people are contained or controlled by various forces from action upon these impulses. Rather than explaining deviance in terms of international patterns, as sociological learning theory proposed, they viewed deviance as an outcome of inadequate socialization. Most individuals conform because internal and external controls are strong, routes to goal achievement are not restricted, and there is a high degree of sodal integration, as evidenced by the individual's attachment to others and the normative structure of society. Deviance results where these controlling mechanisms break dovm or deteriorate. A number of theorists, also identified with the University of Chicago tradition, have continued the emphasis on interactive processes as
xvii
well as the effects of control agents on deviance production, but they have focused on the consequences for the individual of being tagged
with the label deviant. What happens, for example, when a young person who engages in a prank or minor crime is arrested and officially declared a juvenile delinquent by the courts? The consensus of the labeling theorists presented in Chapter VI is that a person who is officially labeled a deviant: 1.
2. 3.
May be more inclined to see himself or herself as an outcast and act accordingly. May be blocked from the opportunity to take on nondeviant roles due to an unsavory reputation. Because of 1 and 2, may be more likely to seek the moral and physical support of others who have been similarly stigmatized with a deviant labeL
As a result, subcultural communities of deviants are formed. Labeling theory concentrates on the results of interaction betvveen the alleged deviant and those in the society who seek to sanction such an individual. The theory clearly suggests that social control agents, rather than reducing or "correcting" the behavior they are reacting to, may in
fact be perpetuating this behavior and solidifying the labeled person's self-image as deviant. At the same time, these agents are creating conditions under which deviant subcultures flourish at the group level by establishing the need of those so labeled for physical and moral support from others. One effect of labeling theory has been to shift attention away horn the individual deviant and toward those persons and groups in society vvith the power to designate certain individuals or actions as deviant.
This is also the emphasis in Chapter VII, "Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance." Several theorists concerned with the conflict and political aspects of deviance offer a response to the question of how certain types of behavior come to be defined as "deviant" in the first place. An essential assumption is that, as Durkheim carefully noted in his functionalist argument, no behavior is i1lherently deviant. Rather, conformity and deviance are established by adherence to or disregard for the standards adopted by a particular group, community, or society. A behavior is officially classified as deviant when it harms or offends those with enough political power to pass a law against it, or when labeling that behavior as
deviant appears to serve their interests. joseph R. Gusfield (Reading 32) argues that the ability of members of an interest group to define as deviant the behavior commonly associated with members of some outgroup itself significantly enhances their own power, prestige, and status.
xviii
Introduction
The other theorists represented in Chapter VII not only expand upon these views, they offer critical reactions to all of the theories presented in the preceding chapters. These theorists contend that, too often in the past, theorizing about deviance concentrated on a "dramatic deviant," without examirting carefully the role of advanced capitalism in the production of deviance and deviant populations. The selections by Richard Quinney, Alexander Liazos, and Steven Spitzer represent attempts to redress this class bias in deviance theories by explicitly taking into account the role of the state and the political-economic elite in the creation of deviance and the formulation and application of crinlinallaw. From one viewpoint, theories of deviance that emphasize politics and class appear to be an outright rejection of their predecessors. However, it is important to note the debt these critics owe to the targets of their sometimes harsh words. Durkheim insisted on the need to look further than the biological or psychological constitution of the individual for explanations of deviance. The American social pathologists who sought causes in social disorganization also wanted to understand deviance at the societallevel of analysis. While C. Wright Mills (Reacting 9) condemned the middle-class ideology of social pathologists for placing too much blame on the individual, even he would probably have agreed with Matza's conclusion that both Durkheim and the Chicagoans made a major breal(through in their search for societal causes of deviance. s We have suggested that functionalism and social disorganization theory seemed to merge in Merton's extension of Durkheim's anorrue theory. In Merton's "Social Structure and Anomie" (Reacting 12), the explanation of deviance remains very much at the societallevel, with the imbalance between cultural goals and institutionalized means described as the key causal factor. Sutherland's alternative to Merton's approach was the theory of differential association (Reading 16), which proposed an explanation of crime at the interactionallevel of analysis. A somewhat different view was expressed by control theorists, who sought to explain deviance as a failure of adequate socialization to conform rather than as the outcome of socialization in deviant subcultures and the acceptance of nonconforming values. The labeling perspective on deviance emerged from a concern about the consequences of being labeled for the individual. Theorists in the political-economic tradition have emphasized instead the dynamics behind the labeling of certain behaviors as deviant. The common thread linking all of these theories is a movement toward an understanding of deviance as more than simply the bizarre, idiosyncratic, pathological behavior of individuals that, like illness or disease, must be treated and cured.
Introduction
xix
Chapter VIII, "New Directions in Deviance Theory," presents some recent developments in the field. The first selection reviews the consequences of conceptualizing deviant behavior as a medical problem. To the extent that deviance is conceptualized as an illness rooted in biological or psychological pathology, the medical establishment becomes the arena for its control. The "medicalization of deviance," discussed by Conrad and Schneider in Reading 38, has been a major theme in the orchestration of social control during the latter half of the twentieth century. A medical explanation of deviance necessarily assumes a lack of responsibility on the part of the aberrant individual for his or her behavior. Those who are sick or biologically "flawed" can hardly be held accountable for behavior that flows from their "pathology." Indeed" the claim that a person who committed a criminal or a deviant act was mentally ill, and therefore not responsible for his or her behavior, is one alternative legal defense in a criminal court. In sharp contrast to biological approaches that account for deviance, the "rational choice" perspective assumes that deviants make calculated decisions about how they act, and the most effective deterrents to deviance are those that are designed to minimize opportunities to deviate. The underlying differences between the biological and rationalchoice approaches date back more than 100 years. Positivists sought explanations for behavior that employ factors such as genetic constitution over which the individual has no control. Classical theorists sought explanations that emphasize humans' capacities to make conscious choices about how they behave. The unresolved debate between positivist and classical theorists continues today: How much deviance is detellllil1ed by factors or forces over which the individual has no control? And how much is a result of individuals exercisingft-ee will in a rational calculation to commit deviant acts? Three selections in the final chapter (Readings 39, 40, and 41) are broadly founded on the "rational-choice" perspective. An alternative viewpoint is to stress the importance of class and gender to understanding patterns of deviance. New theories are emerging that attempt to account for gender differences in deviant behavior (Reading 42) while older theories of deviant behavior are critiqued from tile viewpoint of gender bias (Reading 43). Our anthology's final selection by John Braithwaite (Reading 44) illustrates the cumulative process of good theory building and presents a comprehensive theoretical model that echos the insights supplied by many foregoing theories of deviance. Whereas the labeling perspective led to the dead-end conclusion that reacting to deviance will only mal(e it worse, therefore suggesting that doing nothing about aberrant
xx
Introduction
behavior is our most constructive recourse, Braithwaite's theory of
reintegrative shaming specifies the conditions under which strong reactions to deviance can have the intended consequences of effective social control.
CHAPTER
Functionalism
NOTES Robert Nisbet, The Social Philosophers (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1973), pp. 105-117. 2. Throughout this book we use the term theory in its broadest sense. For our purposes, a theory is a proposed explanation of an event or phenomenon. 3. David Matza, Becomillg Deviallt (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969), pp. 31-37. 4. Talcott Parsons, TIle Structure of Social Actio/! (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1937). 5. Matza, Becoming Deviant, pp. 31-32
I
1.
To say that something ful£ills a function usually means that it serves some useful purpose or need. The function of the circulatory system in higher animals, for example, is to satisfy the body's needs for nourishment, oxygen, and the removal of waste (among other things). It seems reasonable to assume that in the ever-evolving biological world, most organs or systems that are developed and retained by any particular species exist because they satisfy some need; that is, they serve some function. If they were not functional, they would not persist. This sort of reasoning found expression in Darwin's theory of natural selection in biology and is the foundation of the functional perspective on deviance in sociology. The major hypothesis in sociological functionalism is that recurrent sodal processes serve the function of maintaining a social system. With the larger whole (for example, a society or social group) as the unit of analysis, a social pattern is studied in terms ofits functions or the positive part it plays in the adaptation and persistence of the system. As in Darwin's biolOgical modet in sociology functionalism posits that established social institutions or patterns of behavior would cease to exist if they did not serve some positive function. All social activities therefore are studied with an eye to how they contribute to the maintenance and continuity of the society Or group. For the functionalist, recurrent patterns of both conventional and deviant behavior exist and survive in groups and societies because each serves some useful purpose or need. Reading 1 is from Emile Durkheim's classic book The Rules of Sociological Method, originally published in 1895. Durkheim begins by observing that crime and criminals are present in all societies. Therefore, he reasons, crime must serve some social function; otherwise, it would not universally exist. The members of various societies may choose very different types of behavior to label as crime, but because every society contains crimi,..."1,,
,..,..-i,..,..,,,,
....",,,1- ha f",....-J-in,..."l fn1" ,,11 IOn ... ioH",c
2
Functionalism
Functionalism
According to Durkheim, crime contributes ID the maintenance of a society by providing its members with targets for collective moral outrage, and this creates greater cohesion in the society. Further, when the criminal is tried and punished, crime provides a dramatic opportunity to publidze the rules of the society ID all of its members. But criminal activity can also be a catalyst for positive social change. For example, American civil rights demonstrators in the middle of the twentieth century frequently broke the existing segregation laws as a form of protest. In the eyes of the law at that time, those activists
were criminals, but their lawbreaking paved the way for a more just, defen~ sible legal order. For Durkheim, the criminal or deviant should be regarded not as an tlllSodable being or a parasite but as one who plays a definite and necessary sodal role. Durkheim's apparent homage to the criminal antici-
pates what David Matza has called the "appreciation" of deviance and deviants. 1 Rather than viewing deviance as a pathology to be cured, the sodologist is encouraged to search for ways that nonconforming behavior contributes to the maintenance of the sodal group. Reading 2, "The Sociology of Prostitution," by Kingsley Davis, closely follows Durkheirn's functionalist reasoning in response to an initia1 question: ""Vhy is it that a practice so thoroughly disapproved ... can yet flourish so universally?" He begins by observing that to maintain order in most societies it is necessary to link sexuality to social ends such as bearing and rearing children. In this way the "morally legitimate" practice of sex is restricted to the family. However, since sexual behavior in males is not inherently limited by any social arrangement, prostitution is a functional institution because it provides them with an opportunity for impersonal, transitory sex outside the family.2 This reasoning leads to the conclusion that prostitution functions as a safety valve for the short-term gratification of sexual desires without the elaborate, intense social commitment of marriage. According to Davis's functionalist analysis, the family and prostitution are complementary institutions. in Reading 3, "On the Sociology of Deviance," Kai T. Erikson discusses the functions of deviance in the community. He describes communities as "boundary maintaining"; follOWing Durkheim's lead, he argues tl,at deviants are necessary in a community to help identify the normative boundaries (rules) for its members. in thts way the deviant actually contributes to community stability. Erikson describes a social scheme in which the deviant would appear as a natural product of group differentiation. He is not a bit of debris spun out by faulty social machinery, but a relevant figure in the community's overall division of labor. Erikson implies, however, that the deviant cannot alone create or maintain a community's normative boundaries. Identification and maintenance of normative boundaries result from interactions (often dramatic, such as those in trials or executions) betvveen deviants on the ,.,.,..,a 'h.,.n,4 ",nrl ..1... a "'''''T\1T\1"n;h,'", "'(Ta ......"
,.,.~c,.,.,-i"'l
,..,.,..............1 (.....,.,.1'.,..a ",,4rta,,, ..... "'~,_
J
TIle functionalist argument introduced by Durkheim was one of the earliest contributions to a sociology of deviant behavior, and it has continued to have considerable impact on the development of deviance theory up to the present. At the same time, it has been subject to a broad range of criticisms, such as those offered by Melvin Turnin in Reading 4, the Analysis and Critique section for this chapter. While functionalists now seem to recognize that any institution or behavior can have eufunctions (positive consequences) and dysfunctions (negative consequences), there is no way to decide definitively the total, overall impact of behavior such as crime. Indeed, one is always forced back to the question: For what or for whom is a given institution or activity functional? Crime is, after all, at the same time eufunctional for the criminal and dysfunctional for the victim. Tumin also notes that functional analysis is usually ahistorical. That is, it rarely examines the effects of an institution or pattern ofbehavior over time. And finally, although functional analysts ciaim to tal<e a neutral, value-free, scientific approach, there seems to be an underlying bias in their work that implicitly brands some social problems (such as prostitution) as "good," by emphasizing their positive functions, and others (such as poverty and racism) as "bad," by emphasizing their negative functions. In the Contemporary Application selection, Reading 5, Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant apply functionalist reasoning to interpret the social meaning of electronic erotica. They say, for example, that the relatively new phenomenon of computer sex can be seen as an electronic aphrodisiac-in effeet a functional alternative to other forms of sexual stimulation. They also point out that computer communication can be highly efficient as a "social consolidation mechanism," linking large numbers of people with sirrriJar sexual persuasions, and it can be a "mechanism of metamorphosis" by transforming sexual reverie into deviant reality through an individual's cyberspace contact with like-minded sexual deviants. More broadly, this article leads us to consider how new interactive technologies, such as computers, fulHll the various social functions related to creating new types of "communities/J and their boundary maintenance.
NOTES 1. David Matza, BecomiJ1g Deviaut (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969), pp. 3G--37. 2. A careful reader will immediately note a sexist bias in the Davis piece, which implies that only mell might need to have available an institution such as prostitution to satisfy their sexual appetites outside marriage. Thus an apparent value-free, neutral theoretical analysis may actually have behind it the hidden agenda of justifying existing social arrange.,...".... ~"'_ ...... ,..."'H,....... 1\,\""'1" .....
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4
1
Functionalism
The Nonnal and the Pathological
EMILE DURKHEIM Crime is present not only in the majority of societies of one particular species but in all societies of all types. There is no society that is not confronted with the problem of criminality. Its form changes; the acts thus characterized are not the same everywhere; but, everywhere and always, there have been men who have behaved in such a way as to draw upon themselves penal repression. If, in proportion as societies pass from the lower to the higher types, the rate of criminality, i.e., the relation betvveen the yearly number of crimes and the population, tended to decline, it might be believed that crime, while still normal, is tending to lose this character of normality. But we have no reason to believe that such a regression is substantiated. Many facts would seem rather to indicate a movement in the opposite direction. From the beginning of the [nineteenth1 century, statistics enable us to follow the course of criminality. It has everywhere increased. In France the increase is nearly 300 per cent. There is, then, no phenomenon that presents more indisputably all the symptoms of normality, since it appears closely connected with the conditions of all collective life. To make of crime a form of social morbidity would be to admit that morbidity is not something accidental, but, on the contrary, that in certain cases it grows out of the fundamental constitution of the living organism; it would result in wiping out all distinction between the physiological and the pathological. No doubt it is possible that crime itself will have abnormal forms, as, for example, when its rate is unusually high. This excess is, indeed, undoubtedly morbid in nature. What is normal, simply, is the existence of criminality, provided that it attains and does not exceed, for each social type, a certain level, which it is perhaps not impossible to fix in confonnity with the preceding rules. 1 Here we are, then, in the presence of a conclusion in appearance quite paradoxical. Let liS make no mistake. To classify crime among the phenomena of normal sociology is not to say merely that it is an inevitable, although regrettable phenomenon, due to the incorrigible wickedness of men; it is to affirm that it is a factor in public health, an integral part of all healthy societies. 111is result is, at first glance, surprising enough to have puzzled even ourselves for a long time. Once this
Reprinted with the permission of TIle Free Press, a Division of Simon & Schuster from Tile Rules of Sociological Method by Emile Durkheim, translated by Samh A. Solovay and John H. Mueller. Edited by George E. G. Catlin. Copyright © 1938 by George E. G. Catlin; copyright renewed 1966 by Samh A. So!ovay, John H. Mueller. George E. G. Catlin.
1. Emile Durkheim
5
first surprise has been overcome, however, it is not difficult to find reasons explaining this normality and at the same time confirming it. In the first place crime is normal because a society exempt from it is utterly impossible. Crime, we have shown elsewhere, consists of an act that offends certain very strong collective sentiments. In a society in
which criminal acts are no longer committed, the sentiments they offend would have to be found without exception in all individual COTIsciollSneSS€s, and they must be found to exist with the same degree as sentiments contrary to them. Assuming that this condition could actually be realized, crime would not thereby disappear; it would only change its form, for the very cause which would thus dry up the sources of criruinality would immediately open up new ones. Indeed, for the collective sentiments which are protected by the penal law of a people at a specified moment of its history to take possession of the public conscience or for them to acquire a stronger hold where they have an insufficient grip, they must acquire an intensity greater than that which they had hitherto had. The community as a whole must experience them more vividly, for it can acquire from no other source the greater force necessary to control these individuals who formerly were the most refractory. For murderers to disappear, the horror of bloodshed must become greater in those social strata from which murderers are recruited; but, first it must become greater throughout the entire society. Moreover, the very absence of crime would directly contribute to produce this horror; because any sentiment seems much more respectable when it is always and uniformly respected. One easily overlooks the consideration that these strong states of the common consciousness cannot be thus reinforced without reinforcing at the same time the more feeble states, whose violation previously gave birth to mere infraction of convention-since the weaker ones are only the prolongation, the attenuated form, of the stronger. TIlUS robbery and simple bad taste injure the same single altruistic sentiment, the respect for that which is another's. However, this same sentiment is less grievously offended by bad taste than by robbery; and since, in addition, the average consciousness has not sufficient intensity to react keenly to the bad taste, it is treated with greater tolerance. That is why the person guilty of bad taste is merely blamed, whereas the thief is punished. But, if this sentiment grows stronger, to the point of silencing in all consciousnesses the inclination which disposes man to steal, he will become more sensitive to the offenses which, until then, touched him but lightly. He will react against them, then, with more energy; they will be the object of greater opprobrium, which vvill transform certain of them from the simple moral faults that they were and give them the quality of crimes. For examDle. imorooer contracts. or contracts imorooerlv
u
rWILllUlldLL::>Ul
executed, which only incur public blame or civil damages, will become oifenses in law. Imagine a society of saints, a perfect cloister of exemplary individuals. Crimes, properly so called, will there be unlmown; but faults which appear venial to the layman will create there the same scandal that the ordinary offense does in ordinary consciousnesses. If, then, this society has the power to judge and punish, it will define these acts as criminal and will treat them as such. For the same reason, the perfect and upright man judges his smallest failings vvith a severity that the majority reserve for acts more truly in the nature of an offense. Formerly, acts of violence against persons were more frequent than they are today, because respect for individual dignity was less strong. As this has increased, these crimes have become more rare; and also, many acts violating this sentiment have been introduced into the penal law which were not included there in primitive times. 2 In order to exhaust all the hypotheses logically possible, it will perhaps be asked why this unanimity does not extend to all collective sentiments without exception. Why should not even the most feeble sentiment gather enough energy to prevent all dissent? The moral consciousness of the society would be present in its entirety in all the individuals, with a vitality sufficient to prevent all acts offending it-the purely conventional faults as well as the crimes. But a uniformity so universal and absolute is utterly impossible; for the immediate physical milieu in which each one of us is placed, the hereditary antecedents, and the social influences vary from one individual to the next, and consequently diversify consciousnesses. It is impossible for all to be alike, if only because each one has his own organism and that these organisms occupy different areas in space. That is why, even among the lower peoples, where individual originality is very little developed, it nevertheless does exist. Thus, since there cannot be a society in which the individuals do not differ more or less from the collective type, it is also inevitable that, among these divergences, there are some vvith a criminal character. What confers this character upon them is not the intrinsic quality of a given act but that definition which the collective conscience lends them. If the collective conscience is stronger, if it has enough authority practically to suppress these divergences, it will also be more sensitive, more exacting; and, reacting against the slightest deviations with the energy it otherwise displays only against more considerable infractions, it will attribute to them the same gravity as formerly to crimes. In other words, it will designate them as criminal. Crime is, then, necessary; it is bound up with fundamental conditions of all social life, and by that very fact it is useful, because these
conditions of which it is a part are themselves indispensable to the normal evolution of morality and law. Indeed, it is no longer possible today to dispute the fact that law and morality vary from one social type to the next, nor that they change within the same type if the conditions of life are modified. But, in order that these transformations may be possible, the collective sentiments at the basis of morality must not be hostile to change, and consequently must have but moderate energy. If they were too strong, they would no longer be plastic. Every pattern is an obstacle to new patterns, to the extent that the firstpattem is inflexible. TIle better a structure is articulated, the more it offers a healthy resistance to all modification; and this is equally true of functional, as of anatomical, organization. If there were no crimes, this condition could not have been fulfilled; for such a hypothesis presupposes that collective sentiments have arrived at a degree of intenSity unexampled in history. Nothing is good indefinitely and to an unlimited extent. The authority which the moral conscience enjoys must not be excessive; otherwise no one would dare criticize it, and it would too easily congeal into an immutable form. To make progress, individual originality must be able to express itself. In order that the originality of the idealist whose dreams transcend his century may find expression, it is necessary that the originality of the criminal, who is below the level of his time, shall also be possible. One does not occur without the other. Nor is this all. Aside from this indirect utility, it happens that crime itself plays a useful role in this evolution. Crime implies not only that the way remains open to necessary changes but that in certain cases it directly prepares these changes. Where crime exists, collective sentiments are sufficiently flexible to take on a new form, and crime sometimes helps to determine the form they will take. How many times, indeed, it is only an anticipation of future morality-a step toward what will be! According to Athenian law, Socrates was a criminal, and his condemnation was no more than just. However, his crime, namely, the independence of his thought, rendered a service not only to humanity but to his country. It served to prepare a new morality and faith which the Athenians needed, since the traditions by which they had lived until then were no longer in harmony with the current conditions of life. Nor is the case of Socrates unique; it is reproduced periodically in history. It would never have been possible to establish the freedom of thought we now enjoy if the regulations prohibiting it had not been violated before being solemnly abrogated. At that time, however, the violation was a crime, since it was an offense against sentiments still very keen in the average conscience. And yet this crime was useful as a prelude to reforms which daily became more necessary. liberal philosophy had as its pre-
8
Functionalism
cursors the heretics of all kinds who were justly punished by secular authorities during the entire course of the 1v1iddle Ages and until the eve of modern times. From this point of view the fundamental facts of criminality present themselves to us in an entirely new light. Contrary to current ideas, the criminal no longer seems a totally unsociable being, a sort of parasitic element, a strange and unassimilable body, introduced into the midst of society.' On the contrary, he plays a definite role in social life. Crime, for its part, must no longer be conceived as an evil that cannot be too much suppressed. There is no occasion for self-congratulation when the crime rate drops noticeably below the average level, for we may he certain that this apparent progress is associated with some social disorder. Thus, the number of assault cases never falls so low as in times of want. 4 With the drop in the crime rate, and as a reaction to it, comes a revision, or the need of a revision in the theory of punishment. If, indeed, crime is a disease, its punishment is its remedy and cannot be otherwise conceived; thus, all the discussions it arouses bear on the point of determining what the punishment must be in order to fulfil this role of remedy. If crime is not pathological at all, the object of punishment cannot be to cure it, and its true function must be sought elsewhere.
NOTES 1. From the fact that crime is a phenomenon of normal sociology, it does not follow that the criminal is an individual normally constituted from the biological and psycholOgical points of view. The two questions are independent of each other. This independence will be better understood when we have shown, later on, the difference between psychOlogical and sOciologiw cal facts. Z. Calumny, insults, slander, fraud, etc. 3. We have ourselves committed the error of speaking thus of the criminal, because of a failure to apply our rule (Divisiolt dll travail social, pp. 395-96). 4. Although crime is a fact of normal SOciology, it does not follow that we must not abhor it. Pain itself has nothing desirable about it; the individual dislikes it as society does crime, and yet it is a function of normal physiology. Not only is it necessarily derived from the very constitution of every living organism, but it plays a useful role in life, for which reason it canw not be replaced. It would, then, be a singular distortion of our thought to present it as an apology for crime. We would not even think of protesting against such an interpretation, did we not know to what strange accusa w DOns and misunderstandings one exposes oneself when one undertakes to study moral facts objectively and to speak of them in a different language from that of the layman.
2. Kingsley Oavis
9
2. The Sociology of Prostitution
KINGSLEY DAVIS I ~o the theoretical even more than to the applied sociologist, prostitu-
bon sets a profound problem: Why is it that a practice so thoroughly ~isappro:ed, so widely outlawed in Western civilization, can yet flourIsh so unIversally? Social theorists, in depicting the power of collective representations and the mores as determinants of human conduct, have at times implied that institutions are maintained only by favorable attitudes and s~ntiments: But prostitution is a veritable institution, thriving even when Its name IS so low in public opinion as to be synonymous with "the social evil." How, then, can we explain its vitality? A genuine explanation must transcend the facile generalizations both of those who believe that prostitution can be immediately abolished, and of those who think vaguely that human nature and the lessons of history guarantee its immortality. In what follows I have tried to give a sociological analysis-to describe the main features of the interrelational system binding prostitution to other institutions (particularly those involving sexual relations). Such an analysis, though brief and tentative, seems to carry us a long way toward explaining not only the heedless vitality of commercial promiscuity, but also the extreme disrepute in which it and its personnel are held. 1
n Human sexuality, as Zuckerman and others have demonstrated, bears') a s~riking resemblance to the sexual behavior of monkeys and apes.- This resemblance rests upon MO orders of facts-the first physiological, the second sociological. Due to her physical nature, the primate female, as distinct from her lower mammalian sisters, is always sexually responsive. She experiences a regular menstrual cycle but has no period of anoestrus (complete unresponsiveness to sexual stimuli), whereas among most mammals below the primates the female does have, instead of a menstrual cycle, a period of anoestrus alternating with a period of oestrus (heat). This difference has a fundamental effect upon the nature of primate (including human) society. It introduces sex as a permanent element ill
social life and insures constant association of tiLe two sexes. 3
Moreover, the primates possess a more complex sensori-motor equipment than the lower marrunals, and have a longer period of inReprinted from Kingsley Dilvis, "The Sociology of Prostitution," ilmerican Sociological ",,,,,;.,.,,, ",..1 ,., f1Q':l7\ "'... 7<111_71:;1:;
10
2. Kingsley Davis
Functionalism
fancy. These possessions, plus their continuous sexuality, facilitate more
11
III
extensive conditioning of the sexual response, with the result that among the primates sexual behavior is not simply automatic, but is associated with numerous stimuli that are themselves non-sexual. Whereas among lower mammals the sexual responses can scarcely be conditioned at all, the primates may be said to prostitute tlleir sex by introducing sexual stimuli into intrinsically n011-sexual situations.4. In other words, the sexual responses of apes and monkeys may have no connection with sexual appetite, being used, instead, as a means of obtaining material advantages. What leads to this sexual conditioning? Here we turn from physical to social facts. Reproductive physiology and neural complexity pennit the conditioning, but sociological forces alone compel it. Zuckerman points out that monkeys and apes live in a society characterized by a system of dominance. 5 Every ape or monkey enjoys within his social group a precarious position determined by the interrelation of his own dominant characteristics with those of his fellows. The degree of his dominance determines how his bodily appetites will be satisfiedamount of food, number of females, and degree of safety he will enjoy. Primates, both male and female, adapt themselves to such a hostile social system partly through sexual reactions. Since they are always to some extent sexually excitable and the stimuli capable of releasing this sexuality {are] enormously varied, it is easy for their sexual behavior to become adjusted to the rigors of a social life based upon dominance. Hence all situations which evoke sexual prostitution are alike in so far as they allow an animal some advantage that it would othervvise be denied. For example, if a weaker animal secures food and a stronger one comes to take it away from him, the weaker animal inunediately presents himself sexually, no matter whether his sex be the same or different. If he thus diverts the dominant animal's attention, he can swallow his food. 6 In such cases it is by means of his sex reactions that a monkey obtains advantages to which he is not entitled by his position in the scale of dominance. These facts are mentioned for the purpose of bringing out the basic principle in prostitution-namely, the use of sexual stimulation in a system of dominance to attain non-sexual ends. They are not mentioned for the purpose of drawing an analogy between animal and human society or speculating as to the origin of human institutions. Zuckerman himself has adequately warned us against this error'? Yet lithe sociosexual activities of sub-human primates are much further removed from those of the lower mammal than from those of man."8 Among both man and the apes the same physiological and sociological factors appear to be present, alleast to the degree that among both can be found tl,e fundamental trait of prostitution.
We cannot, however, define human prostitution simply as the use of sexual responses for an ulterior purpose. This would include a great portion of all social behavior, especially that of women. It would include marriage, for example, wherein women trade their sexual favors for an economic and social status supplied by men.9 It would include the employment of pretty girls in stores, cafes, charity drives, advertisements. It would include all the feminine arts that women use in pursuing ends that require men as intennediaries, arts that permeate daily life, and, while not generally involving actual intercourse, contain and utilize erotic stimulation. But looking at the subject in this way reveals one thing. The basic element in what we actually call prostitution-the employment of sex for non-sexual ends within a competitive-authoritative system-characterizes not simply prostitution itself but all of our institutions in which sex is involved, notably courtship and wedlock. Prostitution therefore resembles, from one point of view, behavior found in our most respectable institutions. It is one end of a long sequence or gradation of essentially similar phenomena that stretches at the other end to such approved patterns as engagement and marriage. What, then, is the difference between prostitution and these other institutions involving sex? TIle difference rests at bottom upon the functional relation between society and sexual institutions. It is through these institutions that erotic gratification is made dependent on, and subservient to, certain cooperative performances inherently necessary to societal continuity. The sexual institutions are distinguished by the fact that although they all provide gratification, they do not all tie it to the same social functions. 1o This explains why they are differently evaluated in the eyes of the mores. The institutional control of sex follows three correlative lines. First, it pennits, encourages, or forces various degrees of sexual intimacy within specific customary relations, such as courtship, concubinage, and marriage. Second, to bolster this positive control, it discourages sexual intimacy in all other situations, e.g., when the persons are not potential mates or when they are already mated to other personsY Finally, in what is really a peculiar category of the negative rules, it absolutely prohibits sexual relations in certain specified situations. This last form of control refers almost exclusively to incest taboos, which reinforce the first-named (positive) control by banishing the disruptive forces of sexual competition from the family group. These lines of control are present no matter what the specific kind of institutional system. There may be monogamy, polygyny, or concubinae:e: wife exchamre or relieiou.c; nm.c;fihlnon: nrpmAritR1 rhR<;tihr or
12
2. Kingsley Davis
Functionalism
unchastity. 111e important point is not the particular kind of concrete institution, but the fact that without the positive and negative norms there could be no institutions at all. Since social functions can be performed only through institutional patterns, the controls are indispens-
able to the continuance of a given social system. Of the numerous functions which sexual instifutions subserve, the
most vital relate to the physical and social reproduction of the next generation. If we ask, then, which sexual institutions in a society receive the greatest support from law and mores, we must point to those which facilitate the task of procreating and socializing the young. It follows that sanctioned sexual relations are generally those within these (or auxiliary) institutions, while unsanctioned relations are those outside them. Marriage and its subsidiary patterns constitute the chief cultural arrangement through which erotic expression is held to reproduction. It is accordingly the most respectable sexual institution, with the others diminishing in respectability as they stand further away from wedlock. Even the secondary forms of erotic behavior-flirtation, coquetry, petting, etc.-have their legitimate and their illegitimate settings. Their legitimate aspects may be subsumed tmder courtship, leading to marriage; but if indulged in for themselves, with no intention of matrimony, they are devoid of the primary function and tend to be disapproved. If practised by persons married to others, they are inimical to reproductive relations already established and are more seriously condemned. If practised by close relatives within the primary family, they represent a threat to the very shucture of the reproductive institution itself, and are stringently tabooed. 111ese attitudes are much more rigid with regard to actual intercourse, not solely because coitus is the essence of the sexual but because it has come to symbolize the gemeillscllIlft type of relation present in the family. With this in mind we can add that when coitus is practised for money its sodal function is indeterminate, secondary, and extrinsic. The buyer clearly has pleasure and not reproduction in mind. The seller may use the money for any purpose. Hence unless the money is earmarked for some legitimate end (such as the support of a family, a church, or a state), the sexual relation between the buyer and seller is illegitimate, ephemeral, and condemned. It is pure commercial prostitution. Of course many sexual institutions besides courtship and marriage receive, in various cultures and to varying degrees, the sanction of society. These generally range themselves between marriage and commercial prostitution in the scale of social approval. 111ey include concubinage, wife exchange, and forms of sanctified prostitution.I 2 Religious prostitution, for example, not only differs from wedlock, but also from commercial prostitution; the money that passes is earmarked for the maintenance of the church, the woman is a religious ministrant, and
13
the act of intercourse is sacred. 13 Similar considerations apply to that type of prostitution in which the girl obtains a dowry for her subsequent marriage. VVhenever the money earned by prostihltion is spent for a sanctified purpose, prostitution is in higher esteem than when it is purely commercial. If, for instance, prostitution receives more approval in Japan than in America, it is significant that in the former country most of the joro enter the life because their family needs money; their conduct thereby subserves the most sacred of all Japanese sentiments-
filial piety." The regulation of prostitution by governments and churches in such a way that at least some of the proceeds go towards their maintenance is control of sex behavior at a second remove. By earmarking a part of the money, the bought intercourse is made to serve a social function; but this functioll is not intrillsically related to coitus in tlle
same way as the procreative function of the family. In commercial prostitution both parties use sex for an end not socially functional, the one for pleasure, the other for money. To tie intercourse to sheer physical pleasure is to divorce it both from reproduction and from the sentimental primary type of relation which it symbolizes. To tie it to money, the most impersonal and atomistic type of reward possible, with no stipulation as to the use of this medium, does the same thing. Pure prostitution is promiscuous, impersonal. The sexual response of the prostitute does not hinge upon the personality of the other party, but upon the reward. The response of the customer likewise does not de-
pend upon the particular identity of the prostitute, but upon the bodily gratification. On both sides the relationship is merely a means to a private end, a contractual rather than a personal association. These features sharply distinguish prostitution from the procreative sexual institutions. Within a group organized for bearing and rearing children bonds tend to arise that are cemented by the condition of relative permanence and the sentiment of personal feeling, for the task requires long, close, and sympathetic association. Prostitution, in which the seller takes any buyer at the price, necessarily represents an opposite kind of erotic association. It is distinguished by the elements of hire, promiscuity, and emotional indifference-all of which are incompatible with primary or gemeillsclwft association. 111e sexual appetite, like every other, is tied to socially necessary functions. The function it most logically and naturally relates to is procreation. The nature of procreation and socialization is such that their
perfonnance requires institutionalized primary-group living. Hence the family receives the highest estimation of all sexual institutions in society, tlle others receiving lower esteem as they are remoter from its gemeinsehaft character and reproductive purpose. Commercial prostitution stands at the lowest extreme; it shares with other sexual institutions a
14
Functionalism
2. Kingsley Davis
basic feature, namely the employment of sex for an ulterior end in a system of differential advantages, but it differs from them in being mercenary, promiscuous, and emotionally indifferent. From both these facts, however, it derives its remarkable vitality.
IV Since prostitution is a contractual relation in which services are traded (usually in terms of an exchange medium) and sex is placed in an economic context,15 it is strange that modem writers have made so much of the fact that the "social evil" has economic causes. 16 One might as well say, with equal perspicacity. that retail merchandising has economic causes. Prostitution embraces an economic relation, and is naturally connected with the entire system of economic forces. But to jump from this truism to the conclusion that prostitution can be abolished by eliminating its economic causes is erroneous. Economic causes seldom act alone, and hence their removal is seldom a panacea. The causal ramifications of commercial coitus extend beyond the economic sphere. At least three separable but related problems must be recognized: (1) the causes of the existence of prostitution; (2) the causes of the rate or amOllI1t of prostitution; and (3) the causes of any particular individual's entral1ce into, or patronage of, prostitution. The existence of prostitution seems related both to the physiological nahrre of man and to the inherent character of society, both of which include more than the sheer economic element. These basic factors, constantly operative, acCOWlt for the ubiquity of prostitution, but not for the variations in its rate. TIus second problem must be dealt with in terms of the specific institutional configuration existing at the time, in which economic fac- . tors are highly but not exclusively important. Finally, any particular person's connection with prostitution is a result of his or her own unique life-history, into which an infinite variety of strands, some economic and some not economic, are woven. The factors in (1) and (2) are operative in the individual's life, but are never sufficient in themselves to explain his or her behavior. These issues are generally confused by those who believe that by removing aUeged economic causes one can abolish prostitution. Let us follow their arguments further, considering first the removal of economic causes within the capitalist system, and second the removal of them in a non-capitalist system. 1. A frequent proposal for abolition under capitalism is that the salaries of working girls be raised. This proposal, which ignores the demand side, assumes that girls enter prostitution through economic necessity-a paradoxical assumption, for if it is true it indicates that
15
prostitution must have other than economic causes and remedies, while if it is untrue this particular proposal is fallacious. Why should a girl enter prostitution only through economic necessity? Is the occupation so arduous? On the contrary, we often speak as if harlots "would rather prostitute themselves than work."l7 It is even true that some women enjoy the intercourse they sell. From a purely economic point of view prostitution comes perilously near the situation of getting something for nothing. The woman may suffer no loss at all, yet receive a generous reward, resembling the artist who, though paid for his work, loves it so well that he would paint anyway. Purely from the angle of economic return, the hard question is not why so many women become prostitutes, but why so few of them do. The harlot's return is not primarily a reward for abstinence, labor, or rent. It is primarily a reward for 1055 of social standing. She loses social esteem because our moral system condemns the commercialization of intercourse. If, then, she refuses to enter profession until forced by sheer want, the basic cause of her hesitation is not economic but moral. Only when the moral condition is assumed, do wages or economic want take on any importance. Prostitution, therefore, is not purely a matter of economic factors alone. We have taken for granted that in the face of moral condemnation, only starvation wages can drive girls into prostitution. Actually this is only partly true. But even if it were, the proposal to eliminate prostitution by raising wages would not work. In a competitive system, as soon as the salaries of working girls are increased, the supply of prostitutes diminishes. The resulting scarcity increases the effective demand, in the form of price, which rises as the supply diminishes. (The demand rests upon a constant imperative need, not always conveniently satisfiable by substitutes.) With the rise in price, working girls even with good salaries will be tempted into the profession. Moreover, it will be possible for more women to live on the proceeds of prostitution alone-without performing arduous labor in store or restaurant. The net result will be as much prostitution as before, and in terms of actual money invested and changing hands, there may be more. 18 The facts seem to bear out these theoretical propositions, for apparently prostitution does not increase greatly with low wages for women nor decrease with high, although other factors, such as the correlation between men's wages and women's wages, must be considered in working out the relationship.19 Finally, this proposal does not touch the demand for prostitution. To touch demand requires more than economic changes; for even less than the woman who sells herself, is the man who buys guided by economic motives. His motivation, as we shall see later, springs from bio-social forces for which the economic are simply instrumental.
2. In her book, Red Virtlle, Eila Winter has a chapter entitled "Ending Prostitution," at the head of which stands a quotation from a Soviet physician: "Soviet life does not permit of prostitution." Widely accepted and frequently repeated, this belief is taken for granted as one of the main values of a communist as against a capitalist system. There can be little doubt, I think, that in Soviet cities prostitution has diminished in the last few years, but tllere can be grave doubt that it has been ended or that the diminution has resulted solely from the abolition of private property. Not only did prostitution exist before capitalism arose, but capitalist countries themselves have frequently tried to stop private ownership of prostitutes for purposes of profit. They have consistently legislated against third parties-pimps, real estate owners, bookers-only to find that none of these measures succeed. 2o In short, capitalism, like communism, has tried in the case of prostitution to negate the basic capitalistic principle. Doubtless it is harder to eliminate the business aspect of prostitution (organized syndicates operated by third parties) in a capitalist system where business prevails anyway, than it is in a communist system where all business is frowned upon. In the later, profit-making organizations possess high visibility, are easily hunted down. But this does not mean that unorganized prostitution, in which seller, manager, and worker are all rolled into the same person, cannot thrive. Payment for prostitution need not be in terms of money. It may be in terms of privilege, power, food, clothing, almost any form of exchangeable value. These exchangeable commodities (and some medium of exchange) must exist in any complex society, no matter what the system of political control, because the specialized producers must mutually exchange their surpluses. At the same time there is, in any society, a system of privilege, authority, and dominance. Some have rights, belongings, and talents that others lack. Soviet Russia may have abolished the capitalistic alignment of classes, but it has not abolished social class; the class principle is inherent in the nature of social organization. 21 In the Soviet system, as in any other social structure, there lies the eternal possibility and the eternal incentive to trade sexual favor for non-sexual advantage. This becomes clearer after analyzing the demand side of prostitution.
v When outlawed, prostitution falls into one peculiar category of crime-a type exceedingly hard to deal with-in which one of the willful parties is the ordinary law-abiding citizen. This kind of crime, of which bootlegging is the archetype, is supported by the money and be-
havior of a sizeable portion of the citizenry, because in it the citizen receives a service. Though the service is illegitimate, the citizen cannot be held guilty, for it is both impossible and inadvisable to punish half the populace for a crime. Each citizen participates in vital institutional relationships-family. business, church, and state. To disrupt all of these by throwing him in jail for a mere vice would be, on a large scale, to disrupt society.22 But the eagerness of otherwise decent citizens to receive the illicit service attests powerful forces behind the demand element. On the one hand, the demand is the result of a simple biological appetite. When all other sources of gratification fail, due to defects of person or circumstance, prostitution can be relied upon to furnish relief. None of the exacting requirements of sex attraction and courtship are necessary. All that is needed is the cash, and this can be obtained in a thousand ways. Prostitution is the most malleable, the most uninvolved form of physical release. But in addition to the sheer desire for sexual satisfaction, there is the desire for satisfaction in a particular (often unsanctioned)way. The common and ignorant assumption that prostitution exists to satisfy the gross sensuality of the young unmarried man, and that if he is taught to bridle gross sexual impulse or induced to marry early the prostitute must be idle, is altogether incorrect.. .. The prostitute is something more than a channel to drain off superfluous sexual energy, and her attraction by no means ceases when men are married, for a large number of men who visit prostitutes, if not the majority, are married. And alike whether they are married or unmarried the motive is not one of uncomplicated lustP
The craving for variety, for perverse gratification, for mysterious and provocative surroundings, for intercourse free from entangling cares and civilized pretense, all play their part. Prostitution, again by its very nature, is aptly suited to satisfy this second side of demand. The family, an institution of status rather than contract, limits the variety, amount, and nature of a person's satisfactions. But since with the prostitute the person is paying for the privilege, he is in a position to demand almost anything he wants. The sole limitation on his satisfactions is not morality or convention, but his ability to pay the price. nus is an advantage which commercial recreation generally has over kinds handled by other institutional channels. There is no reason to believe that a change in the economic system will eliminate either side of demand. In any system the effective demand as expressed by price will vary with current economic and moral forces, but the underlying desire both for sheer gratification and for gratification in particular ways will remain impregnable.
18
2. Kingsley Davis
Functionalism
VI We can imagine a social system in which the motive for prostitution would be completely absent, but we cannot imagine that the system could ever come to pass. It would be a regime of absolute sexual freedom, wherein intercourse were practised solely for the pleasure of it, by both parties. This would entail at least two conditions: First, there could be no institutional control of sexual expression. Marriage, with its concomitants of engagement, jealousy, divorce, and legitimacy, could not exist. Such an institution builds upon and limits the sexual urge, making sex expression contingent upon non-sexual factors, and thereby paving the way for intercourse against one's physical inclination. Second, all sexual desire would have to be mutually complementary. One person could not be erotically attracted to a non-responsive person, because such a situation would inevitably involve frustration and give a motive for using force, fraud, authority, or money to induce the unwilling person to co-operate. Neither of these conditions can in the nature of things come to pass. As we have seen, every society attempts to control, and for its own survival must control, the sexual impulse in the interest of social order, procreation, and socialization. Moreover, all men are not born handsome nor all women beautiful. Instead there is a perfect gradation from extremely attractive to extremely unattractive, with an unfavorable balance of the old and ugly. This being the case, the persons at the wrong end of the scale must, and inevitably will, use extraneous means to obtain gratification.14 While neither the scale of attractiveness nor the institutionalization of sex are likely to disappear, it is possible that the particular fOlll1 of institutionalization may change. The change may be in the direction of greater sex freedom. Such a change must inevitably affect prostitution, because the greater the proportion of free, mutually pleasurable intercourse, the lesser is the demand for prostitution. This, it seems, is the true explanation of the diminution of prostitution in Soviet Russia.Z5 The conclusion that free intercourse for pleasure and friendship rather than for profit is the greatest enemy of prostitution emerges logically from our statement that a basic trait of prostitution is the use of sex for an ulterior purpose. Should one wish to abolish commercial coitus, one would have to eliminate this trait. This proposition, however, is unacceptable to moralists, because, as we saw, the underlying trait of prostitution is also a fundamental feature of reputable sexual institutions, and intercourse for sheer pleasure is as inimical to our sacred institutions as it is to the profane one of mercenary love. Though Lecky's suggestion that harlotry sustaffis the family is perhaps indefensible, it
19
seems true that prostitution is not so great a danger to the family as complete liberty. . Where the family is strong, there tends to be a well-defined sy~tem of prostitution and the social regime is one of status. Wom~n are eIther part of the family system, or they are definitely not a part of It. In the latter case they are prostitutes, members of a caste set apart. There are few intermediate groups, and there is littl~ mo~ility. TI:is en~bles the "two opposite types of institutions to functIOn ~ilde by SIde WIthout confusion; they are each staffed by a different personnel, humanly as well as functionally distinct. But where familial controls are weak, the system of prostitution tends to be poorly defined. Not only is it more nearly permissible to satisfy one's desire outside the family, but also it is easi~r ~o find a respectable member of society g to ~ct ~s partner. ThIS IS why a decline of the family and a decline of prostitution are both associated with a rise of sex freedom. Women, released from close family supervision, are freer to seek gratification outside it. !he m~re such women, the easier it is for men to find in intimate relations WIth them the satisfactions formerly supplied by harlots. This is why the unrestricted indulgence in sex for the fun of it by ~0tI: sexes is the greatest enemy, not only of the family, but also of prostitution. . Not only in Soviet Russia has pleasurable sex freedom Ulvaded and reduced prostitution, but also in America and England, where "amateur competition" is reputedly ruining the business of str~etwalkers ~d call girls.26 This indicates that independently of commurusm or ~ap~tal ism, due to factors more profound than mere economic orgaruz~tion, sex freedom can arise and, having arisen, can contribute to the decline of prostitution. Its rise seems correlated with the grov:H: of ~dividua~a tion in an increasingly complex society where speCIalization, urb~m, and anonymity prevail-factors which are also inimical to reproductive institutions of the familial type. But even if present trends continue, there is no likelihood that sex freedom will ever displace prostitution. Not only will there alwa~s be a set of reproductive institutions which place a check upon sexual liberty, a system of social dominance which gives a motive for selling sex~al favors and a scale of attractiveness which creates the need for buymg these favors, but prostitution is, in the last analysis, economical. Enabling a small number of women to take care of the needs of a large number of men it is the most convenient sexual outlet for an army, and for the legions ~f strangers, perverts, and phy.sically repul~ive .in ~ur midst. It performs a function, apparently, which no other mstitutlOn fully performs.
:vmm
University Press, 1925, chap. vi; Pearl Buck's novel, TIle Good Earth. Wife exchange differs from marriage in that its 50da1 function appears to be not propagation, but the cementing of solidarity within a group. W. Bogoras, The Cllllkchec, American MuseuIII a/Natural Histonj Memoirs, 7,
NOTES 1.
2.
3.
4. 5.
6. 7.
8. 9. 10.
11. 12.
Disapproval of purely commercial (Le., non-religious, non-familial) prostitution is extraordinarily widespread. Though tile distinction is seldom made, disapproval of the prostitute is one thing and disapproval of the institution another. In Mongolian China, for example, prostitution was viewed with no serious disfavor, but the prostitute was treated with contempt. H. Ellis, Stlldies ill the Psychology of Sex, vol. 6, p. 236. S. Zuckerman, The Social Life of MOllkClJs alld Apes, New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1932; G. V. Hamilton, "A Study of Sexual Tendencies in Monkeys and Baboons," TOl/mal of Animal Behavior, 4, 1914, 295--318; H. C. Bingham, "Sex Development in Apes," Comparative PsycJlOlogt) MOllographs, 5, 1928,1-16l. Zuckerman, op. cit., especially chaps. ill, iv, vi, vill, ix. Ibid., p. 152. Zuckerman repeatedly uses the term prostitution to describe this behavior, as do others, Op. Cif., pp. 312-314. The generalized picture given in tilese few paragraphs of course does not apply in detail to all genera of infra-human primates, nor does it do full justice to Ztickerman's qualifications. Ibid., pp. 240-242. Ibid., chap. H. It is worth noting that while Westermarck and his followers have used the anecdotal literature on anthropoid life to bolster their theory of universal monogamy in human society, it is just as logical to argue from the scientific literature on the same subject that prostitution is equally rooted in primate nature and hence equally universal in human life. Zuckerman, op. cif., p. 313. She also contributes other services, though these are sometimes difficult to see in our middle-class sodety. Any institution appeals to several motives and performs several functions. Strictly speaking, therefore, there are no purely sexual institutions. Wedlock is not simply sexual, not simply procreative, not simply economic. It is all three. This linking of the sexual impulse to other things is not haphazard, but shows a high degree of structural and functional articulation, demonstrable on hvo different but interdependent levels: the life organization of persons, and the institutional organization of society, Sex, like other elements in human nature, is drawn into the integration, and is thus controlled. For the emotional attitudes maintaining these norms see K Davis, "Jealousy and Sexual Property," Social Forces, 14, March 1936,395-405. Concubinage evidently stands part way between prostitution and marriage. It resembles marriage in that it is relatively permanent, partly reproductive, and implies a gemeillscllllft bond; but it resembles prostitution in that the woman more definitely and exclusively exists for the sexual pleasure of the master, and her social position is inferior to that of the wife. E. Westermarck, Histon) of Human Marriage, 5til ed., New York: Allerton Book Co., 1922; D. Kulp, COtlJJtn) Life in South China, Columbia
13. 14.
15.
16. 17. 18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
602-607. G. May, "Prostitution," Encyclopedia of Social Scic/lce; Westennarck, op. cit., val. 1, pp. 219 et scq. A. M. Bacon, Japanese Girls alld Womcll, Boston: Houghton 1vlifflin Co., 1902, pp. 175-178; D. C. McMurtrie, "Prostitution in Japan/' New York Medical JOllnwl, February 8, 1913. Yet no economist has written a treatise on it in the same way that economists write treatises on banking and the coal industry. See L. Robbins, AI! Essay 011 the Nature and Significance of Economic Scie/lce (rev. ed., 1935), 28. EIlCl)cIopaedia SexlJalis, article on "Prostitution," p. 667. W. L. George's novel, Bed of Roses, vividly contrasts the hard life of the
working girl with the easy life of the prostitute. Another difficulty is that the wages of prostitution are already far above the wages of ordinary women's work. "No practicable rise in the rate of wages paid to women in ordinary industries can possibly compete with the wages which fair~y attractive women of quite ordinary ability can earn by prostitution" (Ellis, op. cit., p. 263). The discrepancy between the wages of ordinary work and the wages of prostitution results from the fact, as indicated above, that the latter is morally tabooed. This increases the wage differential until there is even) economic incentive for entering. The wages of one class cannot be arbitrarily raised without affecting those of all other earners. Under competition women's wages could scarcely be raised Witilout also raising men's. Men would then have more to spend on prostitution. A Depres, La prostitlltioll ell France, (1883), concluded that as wealth and prosperity increased, so did prostitution. See M. L. Ernst's chapter in Tile Sex Life of the Ullllwrried Adult, ed. by Ira S. Wile, Vanguard Press, 1934, especially pp. 230-231. Also, Flexner, op. cit., chap iv. By social class is meant the differential sharing of the values (educational, artistic, recreational, political as well as economic) of the community by dillerent segments of the population. The Party in Russia forms one class, enjoying privileges and responsibilities not shared by the rest of the people. The same is true of the skilled as agairtst the unskilled workers. "The professional prostitute, being a social outcast, may be periodically punished without disturbing tile usual course of society; no one misses. her while she is serving out her turn-no one, at least, about whom sooety has any concern. The man, however, is something more than partner in an immoral act: he discharges important social and business relations ... He cannot be imprisoned without ~eranging society" Flexner, op. cil., p. 108. Ellis, op. cit., pp. 295-296. The autilor describes in detail the various motives involved.
22
Functionalism
The question, why are women more frequently prostitutes than men (and why is male prostitution usually homosexual), leads to interesting conclusions. Men have authority and economic means in greater amount than women. They are, therefore, in a more favorable position to offer inducements, and this inequality characterizes not only prostitution but all relations in which sex is used for ulterior enrls. But why the inequality? Women are perhaps physically weaker, and they are naturally connected more closely with procreation and socialization. The latter constitute their main functions. Hence women must depend upon sex for their social position much more than men do. A man who relies on sex for his status has at best an inferior station, while in many ways the very best that a woman can do is through use of her sexual charms. Out of the female population there are relatively few who are young and pretty. These are in great demand by the entire male population, who use every inducement, sanctioned and otherwise. Most of the women are taken by the inducement of a definite social status-marriage. They are thereby withdrawn from competition. But the remainder are in a very favorable position so far as profiting by their attractiveness is concerned. They can, U1erefore, make much more if they enter an occupation in which their sexual appeal is the intrinsic quality desired. One such occupation is prostitution. 25. Communist theory has generally condemned the private family. At the same time Russia emancipated women, making them less dependent upon their sexual qualities, more dependent upon their Citizenship and productiveness. Both the incentive for them to settle in a permanent marital relation and the incentive to indulge in prOSlitution were therefore lessened. 26. G. M. Hall, op. cit., p. 168. "Prostitution." Ellcyclopaedin SexIIalis, p. 665. J. K. Folsom, The Family, New York: Wiley, 1934, chap. xiii. 24.
3
On the Sociology of Deviance
KAI T. ERIKSON Human actors are sorted into various kinds of collectivity, ranging from relatively small units such as the nuclear family to relatively large ones such as a nation or culture. One of the most stubborn difficulties in the study of deviation is that the problem is defined differently at each one of these levels: behavior that is considered unseemly within the context of a single family may be entirely acceptable to the community in general, while behavior that attracts severe censure from the members of the community may go altogether unnoticed elsewhere in the culture. People in sociely, then, must learn to deal separately with deviance at each Reprinted by permission from Kai T. Erikson, Wayward PuritlUls. Copyright © 1966 by Allyn & Bacon.
3. Kai T. Erikson
23
one of these levels and to distinguish among them in [their] own daily activity. A man may disinherit his son for conduct that violates old family traditions or ostracize a neighbor for conduct that violates some local custom, but he is not expected to employ either of these standards when he serves as a juror in a court of law. In each of the three situations he is required to use a different set of criteria to decide whether or not the behavior in question exceeds tolerable limits. In the next few pages we shall be talking about deviant behavior in social units called "communities," but the use of this term does not mean that the argument applies only at that level of organization. In theory, at least, the argument being made here should fit all kinds of human collectivity-families as well as whole cultures, small groups as well as nations-and the tenn "community" is only being used in this context because it seems particularly convenient,l 111e people of a community spend most of their lives in close contact with one another, sharing a common sphere of experience which makes them feel that they belong to a special "kind" and live in a special "place," In the formal language of sociology, this means that communities are boundary maintaining: each has a specific territory in the world as a whole, not only in the sense that it occupies a defined region of geographical space but also in the sense that it takes over a particular niche in what might be called cultural space and develops its own "ethos" or "way" within that compass. Both of these dimensions of group space, the geographical and the cultural, set the community apart as a special place and provide an important point of reference for i.ts ~e~bers. . When one describes any system as boundary mamtammg, one IS saying that it controls the fluctuation of its constiluent parts so that the whole retains a limited range of activity, a given pattern of constancy and stability, within the larger environment. A human communil}' can be said to maintain boundaries, then, in the sense that its members tend to confine themselves to a particular radius of activity and to regard any conduct which drifts outside that radius as somehow inappropriate or immoral. Thus the group retains a kind of cultural integrity, a voluntary restriction on its own potential for expansion, beyond that which is strictly required for accommodation to the envirorunent. Human behavior can vary over an enormous range, but each community draws a symbolic set of parentheses around a certain segment of that range and limits its own activities within that narrower zone. These parentheses, so to spealc, are the community's boundaries. Now people who live together in communities cannot relate to one another in any coherent way or even acquire a sense of their own stahlre as group members unless they learn something about the boundaries of the territory they occupy in social space, if only because they need to
24
Functionalism
sense what lies beyond the margins of the group before they can appreciate the special quality of the experience which takes place within it. Yet how do people learn about the boundaries of their community? And how do they convey this information to the generations which replace them?
To begin with, the only material found in a society for marking boundaries is the behavior of its members-or rather, the networks of interaction which link these members together in regular social relations. And the interactions which do the most effective job of locating and publicizing the group's outer edges would seem to be those which take place between deviant persons on the one side and official agents of the community on the other. The deviant is a person whose activities have moved outside the margins of the groups, and when the community calls him to account for that vagrancy it is making a statement about the nature and placement of its boundaries. It is declaring how much variability and diversity can be tolerated within the group before it begins to lose its distinctive shape, its unique identity. Now there may be other moments in the life of the group which perform a similar service: wars, for instance, can publicize a group's boundaries by drawing attention to the line separating the group from an adversary, and certain kinds of religious ritual, dance ceremony, and other traditional pageantry can dramatize the difference between "we" and "they" by portraying a symbolic encounter between the two. But on the whole, members of a community inform one another about the placement of their boundaries by participating in the confrontations which occur when persons who venture out to the edges of the group are met by policing agents whose special business it is to guard the cultural integrity of the community. vVhether these confrontations take the form of criminal trials, excommunication hearings, courts-martial, or even psychiatric case conferences, they act as boundary-maintaining devices in the sense that they demonstrate to whatever audience is concerned where the line is drawn behveen behavior that belongs in the special universe of the group and behavior that does not. In general, this kind of information is not easily relayed by the straightforward use of language. Most readers of this paragraph, for instance, have a fairly clear idea of the line separating theft from more legitimate forms of commerce, but few of them have ever seen a published statute describing these differences. More likely than not, our information on the subject has been drawn from publicized instances in which the relevant laws were applied-and for that matter, the law itself is largely a collection of past cases and decisions, a synthesis of the various confrontations which have occurred in the life of the legal order.
3. Kai T. Erikson
25
It may be important to note in this connection that confrontations between deviant offenders and the agents of control have always attracted a good deal of public attention. In our own past, U1e trial and punishment of offenders were staged in the market place and afforded the crowd a chance to participate in a direct, active way. Today, of course, we no longer parade deviants in the town square or expose them to the carnival atmosphere of a Tybum, but it is interesting that the "reform" which brought about this change in penal practice coincided almost exactly with the development of newspapers as a medium of mass information. Perhaps this is no more than an accident of history, but it is nonetheless true that newspapers (and now radio and television) offer much the same kind of entertainment as public hangings or a Sunday visit to the local gaol. A considerable portion of what we call "news" is devoted to reports about deviant behavior and its consequences, and it is no simple matter to explain why these items should be considered newsworthy or why they should command the extraordinary attention they do. Perhaps they appeal to a number of psychological perversities among the mass audience, as commentators have suggested, but at the same time they constitute one of our main sources of information about the normative outlines of society. In a figurative sense, at least, morality and inunorality meet at the public scaffold, and it is during this meeting that the line betvveen them is drawn. Boundaries are never a fixed property of any community. They are always shifting as the people of the group find new ways to define the outer limits of their universe, new ways to position themselves on the larger cultural map. Sometimes changes occur within the structure of the group which require its members to make a new survey of their territory-a change of leadership, a shift of mood. Sometimes changes occur in the surrounding environment, altering the background against which the people of the group have measured their own uniqueness. And always, new generations are moving in to take their turn guarding old institutions and need to be informed about the contours of the world they are inheriting. Thus single encounters betvveen the deviant and his community are only fragments of an ongoing social process. Like an article of common law, boundaries remain a meaningful point of reference only so long as they are repeatedly tested by persons on the fringes of the group and repeatedly defended by persons chosen to represent the group's inner morality. Each time the community moves to censure some act of deviation, then, and convenes a formal ceremony to deal with the responsible offender, it sharpens the authority of the violated norm and restates where the boundaries of the group are located. For these reasons, deviant behavior is not a simple kind of leakage ~.~L:_L
___ . __
~.~L
__ J.L _ _ _ _ L! _ _ _ • _I:
_~"":_J.-.!_!
_____
~
•• __ IF:_~ __ ...:1,,_
26
Functionalism
but may be, in controlled quantities, an important condition for preserving the stability of social life. Deviant forms of beha vior, by marking the outer edges of group life, give the inner structure its special character and thus supply the framework within which the people of the group develop an orderly sense of their ovm cultural identity. Perhaps this is what Aldous Huxley had in mind when he wrote: r:row tidiness is undeniably good-but a good of which it is easily passlbl~ to I~ave to~ mu,ch an? at ~O? high a price .... The good life can only
be lived m a soclety m which tidmess is preached and practised, but not too fanatically, and where efficiency is always haloed, as it were, by a tolcmted margin of mess. 2
This raises a delicate theoretical issue. If we grant that human groups often derive benefit from deviant behavior, can we then assume that they are organized in such a way as to promote this resource? Can we assume, in other words, that forces operate in the social structure to recruit offenders and to commit them to long periods of service in the deviant ranks? This is not a question which can be answered with our present store of empirical data, but one observation can be made which gives the question an interesting perspective-namely. that deviant forms of conduct often seem to derive nourishment from the very agencies devised to inhibit them. Indeed, the agencies built by society for preventing deviance are often so poorly equipped for the task that we might well ask why this is regarded as their "real" function in the first place. It is by now a thoroughly familiar argument that many of the institutions designed to discourage deviant behavior actually operate in such a way as to perpetuate it. For one thing, prisons, hospitals, and other similar agencies provide aid and shelter to large numbers of deviant persons, sometimes giving them a certain advantage in the competition for social resources. But beyond this, such institutions gather marginal people into tightly segregated groups, give them an opportunity to teach one another the skills and attitudes of a deviant career, and even provoke them into using these skills by reinforcing their sense of alienation from the rest of sOciety.3 Nor is this observation a modem one: The misery suffered in gaols is not half their evil; they are filled with e~ery sort of corruption that poverty and wickedness can generate; wlth a~ the shameles.s and J;Jrofligate enonnities that can be produced br th~ tmpuden.ce of 19nOnuny, the range of want, and the malignity of dlSpau. In a prIson the d1cck of the public eye is removed; and the power of the law is spent. There are few fears, there are no blushes. The lewd inflame the more modest; the audacious harden the ti:rnid. E:~ryone fortifi:s himself as he can against his own remaining sensibIlIty; endeavonng to practice on others the arts that are practised on himself; and to gain the applause of his worst associates by imitating rh",;,.. """''' ........ ''' .. .0 ,I
3. Kai T. Erikson
27
These lines, written almost two centuries ago, are a harsh indictment of prisons, but many of the conditions they describe continue to be reported in even the most modem studies of prison life. Looking at the matter from a long-range historical perspective, it is fair to conclude that prisons have done a conspicuously poor job of reforming the convicts placed in their custody; but the very consistency of this failure may have a peculiar logic of its own. Perhaps we find it difficult to change the worst of our penal practices because we expect the prison to harden the inmate's commitment to deviant forms of beha vior and draw him more deeply into the deviant ranks. On the whole, we are a people who do not really expect deviants to change very much as they are processed through the control agencies we provide for them, and we are often reluctant to devote much of the community's resources to the job of rehabilitation. In this sense, the prison which graduates long rows of accomplished criminals (or, for that matter, the state asylum which stores its most severe cases away in some back ward) may do serious violence to the aims of its founders, but it does very little violence to the expectations of the population it serves. These expectations, moveover, are found in every corner of society and constitute an important part of the climate in which we deal with deviant forms of behavior. To begin -with, the community's decision to bring deviant sanctions against one of its members is not a simple act of censure. It is an intricate rite of transition, at once moving the individual out of his ordinary place in society and transferring him into a special deviant position.s The ceremonies which mark this change of status, generally, have a number of related phases. They supply a formal stage on which the deviant and his community can confront one another (as in the criminal trial); they mal<e an announcement about the nature of his deviancy (a verdict or diagnosis, for example); and they place him in a particular role which is thought to neutralize the harmful effects of his misconduct (like the role of prisoner or patient). These commitment ceremonies tend to be occasions of wide public interest and ordinarily take place in a highly dramatic setting. 6 Perhaps the most obvious example of a commitment ceremony is the criminal triat with its elaborate formality and exaggerated ritual, but more modest equivalents can be found wherever procedures are set up to judge whether or not someone is legitimately deviant. Now an important feature of these ceremonies in our own culture is that they are almost irreversible. Most provisional roles conferred by society-those of the student or conscripted soldier, for example-include some kind of terminal ceremony to mark the individual's movement back out of the role once its temporary advantages have been pyh::l l l c;;tpil Rllt thp rnlp~ ::IlIottpcl the deviant seldom make allowance
28
Functionalism
for this type of passage. He is ushered into the deviant position by a decisive and often dramatic ceremony, yet is retired from it with scarcely a word of public notice. And as a result, the deviant often returns home with no proper license to resume a normal life in the community. Nothing has happened to cancel out the stigmas imposed upon him by earlier commitment ceremonies; nothing has happened to revoke the verdict or diagnosis pronounced upon him at that time. It should not be swprising, then, that the people of the community are apt to greet the returning deviant with a considerable degree of apprehension and distrust, for in a very real sense they are not at all sure who he is. A circularity is thus set into motion which has all the earmarks of a "self-fulfilling prophesy," to use Merton's fine phrase. On the one hand, it seems quite obvious that the community's apprehensions help reduce whatever chances the deviant might othenvise have had for a successful return home. Yet at the same time, everyday experience seems to show that these suspicions are wholly reasonable, for it is a well-known and highly publicized fact that many if not most exconvicts return to crime after leaving prison and that large numbers of mental patients require further treatment after an initial hospitalization. The common feeling that deviant persons never really change, then, may derive from a faulty premise; but the feeling is expressed so frequently and with such conviction that it eventually creates the facts which later "prove" it to be correct. If the returning deviant encounters this circularity often enough, it is quite understandable that he, too, may begin to wonder whether he has fully graduated from the deviant role, and he may respond to the uncertainty by resuming some kind of deviant activity. In many respects, this may be the only way for the individual and his community to agree what kind of person he is. Moreover this prophesy is found in the official policies of even the most responsible agencies of control. Police departments could not operate with any real effectiveness if they did not regard ex-convicts as a ready pool of suspects to be tapped in the event of trouble, and psychiatric clinics could not do a successful job in the community if they were not always alert to the possibility of former patients suffering relapses. Thus the prophesy gains currency at many levels within the social order, not only in the poorly informed attitudes of the community at large, but in the best informed theories of most control agencies as well. In one form or another this problem has been recognized in the West for many hundreds of years, and this simple fact has a curious implication. For if our culture has supported a steady flow of deviation throughout long periods of historical change, the rules which apply to any kind
3. Kai T. Erikson
29
of evolutionary thinking would suggest that strong forces must be at work to keep the flow intact-and this because it contributes in some important way to the survival of the culture as a whole. This does not furnish us with sufficient warrant to declare that deviance is "functional" (in any of the many senses of that term), but it should certainly make us wary of the assumption so often made in sociological circles that any well-structured society is somehow designed to prevent deviant behavior from occurring? It might be then argued that we need new metaphors to carry our thinking about deviance onto a different plane. On the whole, American sociologists have devoted most of their attention to those forces in society which seem to assert a centralizing influence on human behavior, gathering people together into tight clusters called" groups" and bringing them under the jurisdiction of governing principles called "norms" or "standards." The questions which sociologists have traditionally asked of their data, then, are addressed to the uniformities rather than the divergencies of social life: how is it that people learn to think in similar ways, to accept the same group moralities, to move by the same rhythms of behavior, to see life with the same eyes? How is it, in short, that cultures accomplish the incredible alchemy of making unity out of diversity, harmony out of conflict, order out of confusion? Somehow we often act as if the differences betw-een people can be taken for granted, being too natural to require comment, but that the symmetry which human groups manage to achieve must be explained by referring to the molding influence of the social structure. But variety, too, is a product of the social structure. It is certainly remarkable that members of a culture come to look so much alike; but it is also remarkable that out of all this sameness a people can develop a complex division of labor, move off into diverging career lines, scatter across the surface of the territory they share in common, and create so many differences of temper, ideology, fashion, and mood. Perhaps we can conclude, then, that two separate yet often competing currents are found in any society: those forces which promote a high degree of conformity among the people of the community so that they know what to expect from one another, and those forces which encourage a certain degree of diversity so that people can be deployed across the range of group space to survey its potential, measure its capacity, and, in the case of those we call deviants, patrol its boundaries. In such a scheme, the deviant would appear as a natural product of group differentiation. He is not a bit of debris spun out by faulty social machinery, but a relevant figure in the community's overall division of labor.
30
Functionalism
NOTES 1.
2. 3.
4.
S.
6. 7.
In fact, the first statement of the general notion presented here was concerned with the study of small groups. See Robert A. Dentler and Kai T. Erikson, "The Functions of Deviance in Groups," Social Problems, VII (Fall 1959), pp. 98-107. Aldous HuxIey; PrisOlls: TIle "Cflrceri" Etcltirtgs by Pimnesi (London: The Trianon Press, 1949), p. 13. For a good description of tllls process in the modem prison, see Gresham Sykes, The Society of Captives (Prince ton, N.].: Prince ton University Press, 1958). For discussions of similar problems in two different kinds of mental hospital, see Erving Goffrnan, Asylllms (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1962) and Kai T. Erikson, "Patient Role and Social Uncertainty: A Dilemma of the Mentally Ill," Psychiatry, XX (August 1957), pp. 263-274. Written by "a celebrated" but not otherwise identified author (perhaps Henry Fielding) and quoted in John Howard, TIle State of the Prisolls, London, 1777 (London: j. M. Dent and Sons, 1929), p. 10. The classic description of this process as it applies to the medical patient is found in Talcott Parsons, The Social System (Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1951). See Harold Garfinkel, "Successful Degradation Ceremonies/, Americall JOl/mal of Sociology, LXI (January 1956), pp. 420-424. Albert K. Cohen, for example, speaking for a dominant strain in sociological thinking, takes the question quite for granted: "It would seem that the control of deviant behavior is, by definition, a cultural goaL" See "The Study of Social Disorganization and Deviant Behavior" in Merton, et al., Sociology Today (New York: Basic Books, 1959), p. 465.
Analysis and Critique 4 The Functionalist Approach to Social Problems
MELVIN TUMIN It has been the steady fate of twentieth century sociology to be deeply involved in matters of U1e highest relevance for policy, and often intentionally so. Our most recent involvements, however, have been matters ~f mixed blessings. For, while we have been handsomely supported in Important and useful works, we have not altogether avoided SOme of the less benign features of affluence. One cannot easily shrug off, for in1£11965 by the Society for the Study of Social Problems. Reprinted from Social Problems, Vol. 12, No. 4, Spring 65, pp. 379-388, by permission.
4. Melvin Tumin
31
stance, the moral and aesthetic pinch one feels at the fact that we prosper anew with each fresh wave of crime, delinquency, divorce, mental illness, and poverty. It is surely not visionary to predict that in the next several decades the services of sociologists will be sought with even greater frequency by all kinds of governmental and private agencies. If portents are not altogether misleading, the next twenty years are likely to be known as the sociological decades. It may be more difficult to recruit sociologists to work for one rather than another administration. I am confident, however, that we shall find some satisfactory rationale for continuing to apply for and accept governmental funds for research on the problems of interest to us, and I have no less confidence that such funds will be available in fairly satisfactory amounts, no matter who is in the White House. If these allegations prove true, it follows that an increasing number of sociologists will self-consciously orient their scientific work on the basis of significant value commitments. It is equally probable, however, that in the next two decades we shall also witness the most profound refinement and elaboration of scientific method in sociology_ The number of sociologists able to employ sophisticated devices for analysis and measurement of social phenomena in scientifically rigorous ways is likely to reach an all-time high, both absolutely and proportionately. While it may at first strike us as disturbing that sociology should be approaching a period when it will become both more satisfactorily scientific and more consequentially political than it has ever been before, it is a happy coincidence that our dominant approach to social phenomena-namely, functional analysis-is in some ways ideally suited for just such a period. For a functionalist approach permits the investigator to take certain ends or interests or system-states as given, and to analyze the consequences-supportive and destructive-of any given set of practices for those ends, interests, or system-states. In the process, one may, without apparent penalty, narrow one's focus of attention so that only certain lines of consequence for certain actors are highlighted while others are ignored. This has the dual result of permitting scientific work to generate certain apparent value implications without really doing so, and, simultaneously, to carry real value implications without apparently doing so. This two-sided role of functionalist science vis-a-vis social values is an important feature in view of the fact that there has developed among sociologists in recent years a substantial consensus around certain quite explicit value commitments. The functionalist approach has made the growth of these value commitments comfortably possible without impeding the concomitant development of rigor in the scientific procedures.
32
Functionalism
Now, functional analysis has come in for a good deal of scrutiny in the last ten years in the sociological journals. Some have contended it is a specific and unique form of sociological analysis, while others have insisted it is coterminous with all of sociological analysis. Some, too, have claimed that functionalism is essentially teleological and mystical, while others have denied these allegations and have shown how functional analysis can be free of any such teleologies and can be scientifically rigorous. Other students have alleged that functional anlysis is really a form of causal analysis, while their opponents have insisted that it is very difficult to go from a functionalist proposition to a causal proposition, unless one adds certain assumptions about human motives or evolutionary selection. Stin other SOCiologists have tried to show how functional analysis is essentially conservative or reactionary in its political orientation, while their adversaries have denied that it has any inherent political orientation at all. Finally. significant disputes have arisen as to whether functional analysis can be used to deal with problems of social change or whether such analysis limits the sociologist alone to studying structure, statics, and the status quo. You will all recognize these as references to matters raised explicitly or implicitly by such sociologists as Kingsley Davis, Wilbert Moore, Talcott Parsons, Robert Merton, Dennis Wrong, Ronald Dare, Harry Bredemeier, WaIter Buckley, Francesca Cancion, and others; and I am sure all here will know of the contributions of the distinguished philosophers Carl Hempel and Emest Nagel to these questions regarding functionalism. If, as Kingsley Davis suggested, it was shrewd of Merton to show how the existence of contradictory claims regarding the political orientation of functionalism justified our concluding that it was neither conservative nor liberal, I am hard pressed to know what would be the shrewd conclusion to draw from all these opposing claims pro and con functionalism. The interesting thing is that, like schools of philosophy, they all sound right when one reads them, but they all sound wrong when one reads their critics. TI1ere are hvo features of functionalist method, however, that have not received as much attention as they merit in these recent debates. The first is a set of difficulties for sociology as a science which functional analysis presents; the second is the variability of the values to which most of us have become committed. I want to look at each of these in turn. Functionalism becomes most interesting-to SOciologist and layman alike-when it is used as a means for determining the extent to which a given event or custom (or attitude, or practice, or law, or whatever) helps to maintain a system intact or works against the mainte-
4. Melvin Turnin
33
nance of the system, however that system may be defined. It seems to hold the highest promise when so conceived-a promise of scientific rigor and neutrality. Nothing need be said about the desirability or undesirability of the system; indeed, nothing ",ay be said if functionalism, so conceived, is to be scientifically neutraL The disturbing thing about functionalism, and maybe about all sociological analysis, is that there is one crucial thing we don't yet know how to do: devise a sensible, scientifically neutral arithmetic by which we can add up the so-called eufunctions and dysfunctions of any given set of practices and arrive at some meaningful over-all number or symbol which would specify tl1e net extent to which the system under question was being maintained or destroyed. We can and do malce a series of sequential but essentially unconnected statements about the consequences of actions-and some have to be "eufunctional" and some hnve to be "dysfunctional"; there is no way out of that. But an over-all summation of such mixed partial effects is out of our reach now-and may be inherently impossible. Take, as an example, crime. The dysfunctions-their targets and their relative "amounts"-are roughly determinable. And while Durkheimian sophistication is often required to spell out and make convincing the eufunction of crime, simple observation of the persisting recidivism in the normal crime careers of some of our fellow citizens reveals an imposing array of the eufunctions of crime for criminals. Even for those who are caught and punished, crime may be eufunctional, and often is. Other examples readily come to mind. Every young sociologist learns, for instance, what attention he can command by being sophisticated about the positive functions of prostitution, adultery, premarital sexual intercourse, divorce, and related practices. TIle interesting thing, of course, is that these claims for the positive functions of practices that are generally morally condemned are absolutely correct, if sensibly specified and limi ted. But, on balance, what can one say about the total impact-eupacts and dyspacts (why not coin some terms while we're about it?)-of such practices. On the net balance, are they supportive or destructive of that system; and of which system? And how could one test the truth of any such claim? Notice, for instance, that no single institutional arrangement has enjoyed so much published disputation regarding its positive and negative functions as the phenomenon of social inequality. A number of us have variously taken turns reminding our antagonists of either eufunctions or dysfunctions they have overlooked. But in the end we come out where we started, namely, with a preference-supported by data, of course, but data that have been weighted and added according
34
Functionalism
to our preferences. And there are no rules to determine which is the better or more correct method of toting up the diverse effects. Now we can look at a second shortcoming of so-called functional analysis. We have just assumed it is possible, sometimes easily, sometimes with greater difficulty, to identify separate lines of consequences of various practices as either eupactful or dyspadful for a system which is taken as a given. But that assumption needs to be examined more carefully, for there is, I think, an inherent tendency in functional analysis to close down one's observations too quickly. Let me give an example. Suppose we are analyzing the structure and function of a gang of delinquent boys. We find they have dramatic initiation ceremonies. With our newly acquired sophistication about such matters, we see that these ceremonies help to smooth the integration of new members into the group, solidify consensus, reawaken flagging commitments of old members, and generally distribute higher morale throughout the membership. Naturally, we would be led to assert that these ceremonies are eufunctional for the continuity and vigorous conduct of the gang and its affairs. Since we have taken the gang as the system, and, therefore, as our "given," we tend, naturally, not to go much further in the analysis. But suppose this reinvigoration of the group leads it to excesses of delinquent behavior into which it would not have been tempted if it had not been so reinvigorated, and suppose these excesses provide just that margin of outrage to the normminded community needed to incite a serious crackdown. What, then, of the so-called eufunctions of the initiation ceremonies, if in heightening group morale and consensus and unity they lead the group to engage in self-defeating and destroying actions? My point is that we do not often go on to look at the longer and larger and delayed consequences of actions, and we do not do so for MO reasons: (1) The rules of functional analysis are pretty rigorously insistent that we delimit and specify the system to whose support or destruction we are referring our analysis. (2) Typically, moreover, we have Hot designed studies to watch the changing impact over time of various occurrences, events, and practices. Our analysis is not geared to historical waiting and depth. And so we often speak too easily and too quickly. For instance, is the emergence of a fairly rock-ribbed conservative trend in politics, such as is exemplified by Goldwater, positively or negatively functional for American democracy? Suppose there is backlash against the backlash in the near future, and a reinvigoration of liberalism? Suppose this in turn generates a third party force? Suppose this leads to a real fractionating of political power, with strategic minorities coming to play even more dominant roles? How, then, will we assess the long r;mP"P
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Examples such as these point up a painful dilemma. The strength of functional analysis presumably lies in its ability to do skilled dissection and analysis of the ways in which social actions interplay in a network of interdependence within a given system, and thus presumably clarify in some as yet unnamed way "why" the practices are present. In short, there is some presumed unique strength in the ahistoricihj of the analytic method. But now we find that it is precisely this ahistoricity which rnalces our analyses often of such dubious value. And even worse, it is ' future history rather than past history that we seem to need to control. And how do we do that? Let me briefly mention MO other problems presented by functional analysis. The first of these can be stated simply as follows: using functional analysis, sociologists have no way of making relevant, competent scientific statements about any system talcen as a whole. If we are in trouble, as we are, because we cannot sensibly add up the diversities of eupacts and dyspacts of various substructures within any given system, we are in even worse trouble when it comes to assessing a system as a whole. We simply have not developed a method or language adequate to total system comparison. Our only "out" is to take the system which we first used as a "given" and place it in a context of a larger system of which it is a sub-unit and ask questions about its positive and negative contributions to that larger system. Thus, we do reasonably well in considering, functionally, the sub-units of national state aggregates; but when we get to the level of nation-state aggregation, or go on to multinational systems, we are simply unable to say things that couldn't just as well be said by anybody else. One has only to listen to the usual comparisons of, say, America with England or France to realize that one might just as well hold these conversations with untrained fellow tourists in the bar of the S.s. Rotterdam. I believe the difficulty just stated is inherent in functional analysis taken in its best and most generous terms. The second difficulty has to do with the internal pressure of functionalism to find a rationale for all things. Of course, all things have reasons for coming into being and other reasons for persisting. But to say this is to say nothing. For it is clear that some social events are much more deterrninistically generated by a given system, while others can be seen as system-bound and determined only in the loosest sense. I am trying to suggest that a great deal of what we do in any given day simply is irrelevant and unnecessary from the point of view of system maintenance. It is a frill or a fringe benefit, or deficit of the system; it is garbage or junk from the point of view of system-requirements. It may be esthetically gratifying, or neurotically compulsive, or luxuriously en~""TT.,'hl ..... 1.",,1- 1-1-. ........ .., ., ..~ ,,"' ..... , ,-litfn .."'.... I-l-i ..... ,-l'" nf ..o",,,,r.n,,, fr. .. I-ho ov;c:ton,.,,,, r..f
36
4. Melvin Tumin
Functionalism
practices than the reasons we might offer for the existence of a division of labor. Functionalism-and maybe that means sociology in general as presently practiced, in whatever version-is inadequate to this problem. Either we must learn to ignore the junk and garbage and frills and fringes; or we must find a meaningful place for them in our system of analysis, especially if they are features by which we are often most dramatically characterised, such as the state of our creative arts. At the moment, all we can do is be uneasy about these things because we neither ignore them nor find a place for them. I now want to turn from this first set of problems presented by functional analysis and consider a second set of problems to which only sparse attention has been paid in recent discussions of functionalism. These problems concern the relationships behveen functional analysis as a method, on the one hand, and our variable value commitments, on the other, specifically, our variable attitudes toward different "social problems." Here one must be avowedly more impressionistic. Why is it, one must ask, that while we, Le., practicing sociologists, seem to be almost uniformly against poverty, mental illness, and racial discrimination, we are somewhat less than unifonnly against war, and in some important senses, we are for such things as divorce, adultery, prostitution, crime: delinquency, and interracial disorders. When I say we are "for" or "against" any of these, I mean several things. First, sociologists who work and report on problems of poverty, mental illness, and racial discrimination couldn't be clearer about their implied condemnation of these phenomena. These are social abominations to be done away with as quickly as possible. By contrast, the sociological profession as a whole is much more ambivalent about war, and some sociologists have even made reputations as cold-war warriors, counselling very important persons lodged in the highest reaches of the Establislunent. The implication here is also clear: war is sometimes good, or at least necessary. By further contrast, sociological analyses of such matters as divorce, delinquency, crime, prostitution, and adultery often show either a cool detachment and implied lack of concern about the problematic aspects of these phenomena ordinarily attributed to them by the laymen of our society; or sociologists tend to display an almost whimsical kind of affection, guided by a thoroughly sympathetic understanding of how people could get involved in these normally disapproved patterns of behavior. Sometimes the attitude is not only "Well, what could you expect, given the situation of these people and the structure of society," but also includes a kind of militant applause for these types of reactions to .,
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A second indication of variable attitudes toward social problems is revealed in the informal judgments we tend to make about the expectability of the incidences and rates of these problematic phenomena. We write as if there were no good grounds on which to expect any poverty or racial discrimination-there are not ineluctable cultural compulsions in these directions, we imply. By contrast, we are somewhat tentatively expectant of a discernible incidence of mental disorder; and we tend to see recurring wars as quite expectable. And when it comes to divorce, adultery, delinquency, crime, prostitution, and racial protests, we often imply that, sociolOgically speaking, we are a lucky society to experience only as little of these matters as we do. We often add wisely that there is probably a lot more of these things than is ever recordedexcept divorce, of course, and here we count "unhappy marriage" as the equivalent of divorce. Third, and most relevantly here, we reveal our variable attitudes toward a range of social problems by the kinds of so-called functional analyses we do of these problems. Mental illness, racial discrimination, and poverty have no positive functions for anyone, judging by most sociological writings; or, if they do, then clearly the persons or interest blocs who do profit from these problems are villainous. Above all, no good can be identified for the system as a whole. By contrast, some wars are often seen at least as better than some peaceful alternatives; and in conSidering such phenomena as delinquency, divorce, adultery, prostitution, and crime, we have become very adroit at identifying positive functions for actors, interest blocs, and the society as a whole. In sum, our so-called scientific analyses tend often to lean heavily on the side of negative functions in the case of some problem phenomena; range around a balance of positive and negative functions in the case of other phenomena; and lean heavily toward the other pole of positive functions in the case of still other problems. Why should this be so? There is little, if anything, in the scientific findings per se that would suggest that these variable one-sidednesses in ~ur analyses are justified. That all of these phenomena have both positive and negative functions is quite clear. There is no difficulty, for instance, in spelling out certain benign consequences of poverty, especially if one is indifferent to his moral standing in the community. One could, for example, mention the positive functions for wealthy people of the poverty of others; or the availability of cheap services and labor; or the disparate power quotients that some can enjoy; or the feelings of wellbeing that do-gooders and philanthropists Can secure; or the political strength of party programs that pay attention to poverty; or the smug euphoria that reports of our poverty bring to Arnericanophobic Europeans.
38
Functionalism
So, too, one can even talk about the positive functions for the system as {/ whole of a quotient of poverty that can function as a rallying point for general social conscience and can energize ameliorative concern that might otherwise lie dormant. It does not take much imagination to do this kind of thing. Ever since Durkheim showed us how some crime is positively functional for the rest of society, it has not taken much sensitivity or cleverness to extrapolate to other phenomena and do the same thing. Since, then, \ve can identify both positive and negative consequences or functions for aU the social problems we face, the only possible justification for favoring some problems above others would lie in the net bl7iallce of positive and negative consequences. But we have shown earlier that we have no techniques available to us for adding up the pluses and minuses and coming out with some meaningful overall calculation or quotient of net effect. We have no way, in short, of saying whether, on balance, the society is threatened more by the totality of mental illness and its consequences than by the totality of delinquency and its consequences. If we cannot do so, then we cannot scientifically justify our tendency to stress the negative aspects of some phenomena and the positive aspects of others. So, it is not in the scientific findings themselves that we will discover why our biases are so variously distributed. Nor will we find the reason in the relative difficulty and ease of analysis of these problems. They are all relatively equally susceptible to clever or banal, mediocre or insightful analyses. Nor can one find in the historical span of the problems any good grounds for feeling so differently about them. Poverty has been with us for as long as prostitution and adultery; and while it may be true that it required official certification by a presidential office to establish poverty as a legitimate focus of interest and attention, that would onlyaccount for the novelty of the interest and not the type of interest expressed. I want to offer a number of hypotheses as to why some problems seem more baleful than others. We have spoken of the senselessness and needlessness of certain problems. Poverty doesn't make any sense; mental illness doesn't; racial discrimination doesn't-not by any tolerable moral standards accepted in our community. There are no good grounds for poverty. especially when there is so much wealth. Mental illness may serve many positive functions ancillary to the main body of identified negative functions, but there is no acceptable ground for putting up with it. This is, I think, how the public conscience runs among sociologists. But this conscience needs accounting for.
4. Melvin Tumin
39
The reason our analyses run the way they do, I think, has to do with a part of functional analysis once again-namely, the doctrine of functional equivalents. Simply, I mean that the possible functional equivalents of the disapproved phenomena either are nonexistent or arc even more repulsive than the actual problems themselves, while, by contrast, the functional equivalents of the more approved phenomena are themselves either as tolerable and acceptable as the phenomena, or even morally praiseworthy. What, for instance, is the functional equivalent of mental disorder? If we pretend to know tilat mental illness functions to help tile victim to get out of an intolerable situation, then some other forms of escape are the functional equivalents; and we don't approve of these escapes any more than we do of the illness itself. One has to be careful, of course, with the doctrine of functional equivalents. For one must always ask: functionally equivalent for whom? It is one thing to ask what could serve the same functions for poverty-stricken people as poverty-and that would be an idiotic question-but it is not idiotic to ask what could substitute for poverty in the total culture that would have the same effects on the culture as poverty. For here one can think of such things as rigorous caste structures; or other forms of extreme status deprivations; or totalitarian power structures that would yield many of the same functions. As I noted before, these functional equivalents are even less tolerable than the actual manifestations. By contrast, the functional equivalents of the more approved problems often have very strong positive connotations. Thus, one equivalent of delinquency is the expression of independence of adult norms and stuffiness. So, too, prostitution can be seen, and often is seen, as a symbolic rejection of intolerable sexual standards of the bourgeoisie, and an implicit denunciation of commercialized sale of sex hiding under the guise of marriage. Or, divorce and adultery are simply evil-sounding terms for expressions of spirit that rise above the ordinary limitations of unjustified normative restraints. These may be hyperbolic ways of stating these matters-but the essential truth, or claim for it at least, is evidently there and quite plain to be seen. In effect, then, I am contending we like some problems more than others because we don't think they are really problems. And we don't think they are really problems because we see them as indirect expressions of laudable human spirit and verve and honesty or straightforwardness breaking through the hypocritical bounds of our ordinary norms. For these reasons, I suggest, we tacitly applaud some of these problems by insisting on revealing a large proportion of positive functions these actions serve for a number of actors with whom we identify,
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and tacitly deny importance to the negative functions they play for other actors with whom we have not very much sympathy, or for the system as a whole, which we hold blameworthy in the first place. A second source of our variable attitudes toward problems is also connected intimately with functional analysis. I suggest that most of us have been pressed against our own political inclinations to play the role of neutral social scientist, committed to withholding value judgments in those roles. Functional analysis does not make possible an overall critical evaluation of our society. But our mvn inner selves will out, whether we like it or not. And so we employ functional analysis in such a way as to permit ourselves to be both sociologists and concerned citizens. V\'hat, in fact, we do is deliver ourselves of our overall evaluations of our society by emphasizing the positive aspects of certain phenomena and the negative aspects of others. Our cultivated but repressed tendencies toward informed muckraking, our views of ourselves as conscientious citizens, which our neutral sociological roles do not permit us to indulge: these are given expression by the way in which we slant our work So we give short shrift to poverty, mental illness, and racial discriminations; we are sophisticatedly ambivalent about war; and we portray our sympathies for the downtrodden in our analyses of crime and delinquency. In our own minds, we add up all these un-addible things and see ourselves as giving public vent to our condemnation of our society's malfunctionings. In short we let people lmow where we stand on our society as a system and not simply what we know about it. A third reason why we bias our functional analyses has to do with the process of identification. The victims of mental illness, poverty, and racial discrimination are not the least bit appealing, at least not by any sort of ordinary standards. It takes quite an effort, I suggest, for most people really to identify with the poor, the Negro, or the mentally sick in our society. Understand them, yes; and sympathize, yes; and want to help, yes; but idenlifiJ? No. For that means actively thinking of ourselves as poor or Negro or mad. And not many of us are built to be able to take on those nightmares. One might even suggest that the victims of these social outrages generate in us a certain amount of moral despisal which we recognize as cruelty, and about which we feel guilty; we handle our guilt by converting it into professed outrage at the society which throws up such victims. By contrast, the actors in delinquency, crime, adultery, and divorce often tend to command oUI positive sympathies because, I suggest, they are doing things many of us would like to be able to do. Mitty-like, we dream about doing them, but never manage to get to them. And while it is probably rare for a male sociologist to dream affectionately about
4. Melvin Tumin
41
being a prostitute, or to wish he could be one, the kind of total situation in which the relative sexual freedom of the prostitute would be the prevailing norm is surely one about which many of us must often fantasize. Even the more pleasant aspects of taking drugs and of intoxication are probably quite within our scope of positive identification. A fourth dynamic that may shape our attitudes toward social problems lies in the distinction between cause and symptom. As sociologists, we tend to see crime and delinquency and such other phenomena as symptoms of deep-lying c:lisorders of the social system-of poverty, for instance. We are reluctant to condemn such symptomatic behaviors, especially if we see them as naturally arising out of the basic disorders over which the "deviant" actors or victims have little or no control. In some senses, indeed, we tend to impute certain "healthy" attributes to these symptomatic reactions to inadequacies and inequities in the social system. In much the same way we invest racial demonstrations with positive functionality, seeing such demonstrations as natural reactions to racial discrimination and as "healthier" modes of reaction than the historically traditional subservience of the "oppressed" groups. (We recognize that this line of reasoning will not apply to the attitudes we express toward mental illness, but that is no reason not to consider its relevance for the other phenomena just discussed.) A fifth and final possible source of our variable attitudes toward social problems has to do with our judgment of the relative importance of the various problems. I suggest that we are relatively offhanded about crime and delinquency and prostitution and divorce, partly because we believe that they don't really matter very much-that they really don't disturb any important social values and don't really gum up the social works to any significant degree. This attitude is perhaps most obvious in the case of divorce, which we rarely deplore because we feel it is not only natural and expectable but a rather good institution, all things considered. Our tendency to press for far more liberal divorce laws is evidence in point. Our informal and perhaps unjustified sneers at marriage counseling also testify to our endorsement of the importance of the freedom to divorce. If there is any credence to be given to these five suggested reasons for variable attitudes toward problems, then it is clear our functional analyses, attuned to these desires and preferences, are slanted in most unscientific ways. While some of our biasing sentiments match those of the rest of the community, by and large, as sociologists we tend to be less "square" about these matters than most other segments of the community. We stand in between the morally disapproving sections of the community, on the one hand, and the actual participants in the problems themselves, on the other.
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
I have indicated the intimate connection between so-called scientific sociology and a range of non- or unscientific elements that guide and condition that activity in important ways. I wish further to suggest, finally, that this kind of close interplay of values and science, or of sentiment and science, is probably most difficult to avoid. Perhaps it is altogether unavoidable, so long as functional analysis is our dominant mode of approach to social problems. Whether we should avoid these unscientific predilections and prefigurings of our scientific activity is quite another question. But it is interesting to note that a major function of functionalism for sociologists is that it minimizes role strain for them as they seek simultaneously to play the parts of both concerned citizens and neutral, value-free scientists. In an era when both these roles have high salience for a group of professionals, a general approach which reduces the potential1y great role strain is not without virtue.
Contemporary Application 5
"Log on to Sex"; Some Notes on the Carnal Computer and Erotic Cyberspace as an Emerging Research Frontier
KEITH F. DURKIN and CLlFTON D. BRYANT New forms of deviancy, including sexual deviancy, are not entirely the invention of the fertile imagination. More often, new opportunities in the pursuit of deviancy are provided by innovations in technology. Such opportunities, in turn, invite or occasionally even drive exploration and experimentation in using the technology, with the result that new, and sometimes ingenious residual functions and latent uses of the tedmology relevant to deviancy are discovered. Thus, novel configurations of deviant behavior, including sexual deviancy, may evolve in a kind of serendipitous fashion from technological invention.
TECHNOLOGY AND DEVIANT BEHAVIOR Behavioral scientists have long reCOgnized that emerging technology has a powerful influence on human behavior, although frequently there Reprinted from Devlnnt Bd/mlior: All Interdisciplinnry Journal, 16: 179-200. Copyright © 1995 Taylor & Francs. Reprinted by permission. TIlis paper is a revised version of a pilper presented at the ]993 Mid-South Sociological Association Meetings held in Montgomery, Alabama, October 27-30,1993.
43
is a delay or lag between the emergency of the tecImology and the sodal behavioral adaptation to it (Ogburn 1964).1 The social response to technology often takes the form of teclmicways, or normative and patterned behavioral configurations (Odum 1937; Bryant 1984)2 Whereas technicways generally assume functional dimensions, they may also mutate and take on dysfunctional or even deviant parameters. These deviant technicways often encompass sexually proscribed behavior. Furthermore, deviant sexual technicways would appear to divide and multiply in an entropic fashion. Some examples of technology and sexually deviant adaptation include the automobile, which was intended as a means of transportation but has also proved to be a splendid platform for private assignation and fornication, as well as a major "vehicle" for a wide variety of clandestine sexual misconduct; and Edison's motion picture projector, which was intended for wholesome vicarious entertainment but has also proved to be extremely effective in affording vicarious carnal gratification in the form of pornographic films. The telephone also has served to generate a multitude of opportunities for carnal gratification. Its capacity for anonymous conununication has made possible the obscene phone calL' It has also afforded the opportunity for the telephone masturbator to use a telephone conversation with a female as the basis for sexual fantasy and carnal stimulation, incorporating the autoerotic activity into the fantasy.4 The effectiveness of this practice has been exploited in recent years by so-called "dial-a-pom" services,5 which offer sexually explicit conversation for salacious purposes on a commercial basis. Undoubtedly, in time many others will grasp the deviant efficacy of the telephone and perceive additional innovative uses. The citizens-band (CB) radio is another case in point. The CB radio initially appealed to persons who sought a convenient and efficient means for communicating in emergencies and in other inopportune circumstances. Truck drivers proved to be an enthusiastic customer group, using the CB radio to contact other truckers. Prostitutes also found truck drivers to be an enthusiastic customer group for their sexual services, and for some prostitutes, using the CB radio, which proved to be an expedient way to contact truckers, became a standard mode of soliciting customers (KJein 1981; Luxenburg and Klein 1983). Like legitimate businesspeople, deviant commercial enterprises are often quick to take advantage of new technology to improve efficiency and maximize profits. For example, rather than the bordeIIo prostitute of times past, the prostitute contacted by telephone-the "call girl"-is now the nonn in some locales. Prostitutes in some resort cities, such as Las Vegas, are said to carry beepers, in order to be able to respond quickly to telephone requests for sexual services.
44
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
FtUlctionalism
The near explosion of technological advances in recent decades, in such fields as electronics, photography, and communications, to mention but a few, has deluged society with a cornucopia of devices and appliances, compelling in their novelty and application, but ominous in their latent deviant capabilities. Numerous instruments and mechanisms ranging from the Polaroid camera to the camcorder have been shown to have suitable utility for the facilitation of sexual deviance. Of the most recent technolOgical products, the computer promises to open enormous new frontiers of opportunity for the proliferation and enhancement of sexual deviance, to have an applicability for carnal behavior that is socially volatile in both its perversity and import.
THE COMPUTER, CYBERSPACE, AND DEVIANT INFORMATION The computer, although intended primarily as a mechanism for extremely rapid, extraordinarily complex, computational purposes, quickly came to be seen also as a communication device. The computer paired with modem telephone technology has come to serve as a highly efficient means of contacting persons and corporate entities all over the world. On-line bulletin board systems, known as BBSs, are essen"tial1y modem-day, high-tech, electronic "party lines," by which users can send and receive messages, engage in conversations, and upload and download files. The electronic entity or domain that encompasses bulletin boards and all of the other communicative potential of computers has become known as "cyberspace" (Gibson 1989). By linking up with a particular, specialized HBS, one can use a computer to contact individuals with mutual interests anywhere in the world. In 1987, there were 4,000 BBSs; by 1992, there were 44,000. Periodicals such as Boardwatch or Computer Shopper list and describe the array of available BBSs (see New York Ti1lles 1989, p. 38). On-line services such as CompuServe, Prodigy, ~A..merica Online, and Delphi offer the computer user immediate access to all sorts of information, such as news, weather, travel services, and stock market quotes, as well as access to all kinds of specialized interest bulletin boards and the means to send and receive private messages. Online services thus permit people to contact and communicate with persons who share similar interests and avocations, which may involve such disparate topics as cooking, cats, and chess (see U.S. News and World Report 1985, p. 59). Because the on-line services reach an unknown multitude of computer users (inasmuch as instilutional computers are used by vast numhPT':::
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45
number of persons who can access BB Ss cannot be accurately calculated), there is the potential for an enormous range of interests to be addressed, including deviant interests. Aware of this market, entrepreneurs of all stripes are rising to the need and offering unique BBSs to satisfy even the most exotic requirements. A relatively superficial exploration of available bulletin boards reveals a diverse array of nonsexual, deviant variants seeking subscribers, or interested persons who might like to share information. Included among this genre of BBS is one that collects and distributes all sorts of law-enforcement radio codes, including generic codes and frequencies as well as special codes for specific law enforcement agencies. While these codes are made available ostensibly to help computer users better "enjoy" and understand the radio traffic on a police scanner, it is patently obvious that this master list of police codes could easily find miscreant uses. Additionally, this bulletin board provides a compendium of information concerning plants and substances that have psychotropic properties but are technically not illegal to possess at this time. It also contains relatively detailed information about automatic teller machine (ATM) fraud, which would no doubt be quite instructive to a would-be ATM thief. The same bulletin board gives advice on how to cause vandalistic damages, including lists of useful vandalism tools (wire cutter, BB gun, etc.) and appealing sites to be vandalized, such as the showroom windows of automobile dealerships. In addition to bulletin boards that deliberately provide deviant information, some bulletin boards are used by individuals seeking technical advice for deviant acts. Several years ago, for example, a 10-yearold youngster in the Midwest placed an ad seeking instructions for making a time bomb on a bulletin board devoted to scientific interests. Someone with the necessary expertise did provide the information, and the boy subsequently blew up a mailbox using a bomb the he had constructed Uackson 1989, p. 20). THE CARNAL COMPUTER AND CYBERSEX
Sometimes the interest being catered to by a bulletin board may be sex, particularly esoteric variations of sex that frequently are deviant and sometimes illega1. This potential use of bulletin boards has not escaped the notice of relevant U.s. governmental agencies. The Attorney General's Commission on Pornography (U.5. Department of Justice 1986, p. 1437), for example, has stated: The personal home computer provides individuals with an extraordinary new fonn of_communication and information access. Providers of ... __ 11 ___ _ >-":_1_ l.. ____ <._1 ____ ..1 ____ <. ____ ..L, ____ ._ .. __L __ 1_ ~~
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46
Functionalism
gy by making computer subscription services the most recent advance in "sexually explicit communications."
Although the computer can be used to communicate directly with specific individuals in other locales using E-mail and other modes of communication, initial and subsequent contacts involving "erotic entertainment" are often made through intermediate computer networks, in the form of sexually oriented bulletin boards. 6 Because it allows "two users to exchange intimacies in private" (Time 1984, p. 83), the computer bulletin board, particularly when used for erotic purposes, can perhaps best be likened to the Valentine box in grammar or middle school into which students could put anonymous Valentine messages to be taken out and read by those to whom they were addressed. The box could also be used to respond privately. The sexually oriented computer bulletin board permits users to trade pseudonymous messages. The initial anonymity of these bulletin boards may give way to a more intimate and personalized (albeit guarded) form of carnal interaction. One newspaper account (Markoff 1992, p. 5), for example, describes this process: One recent evening, users of the America Online network had the opportunity to visit a series of "rooms" offering, for example, "Naughty Girls," "Romance Connection" and a "Gay Room." After meeting electronically in the public room-actually a window in which comments from many users scroll by-new friends adjourned to private rooms for intimate conversations, often using noms de plume or "handJes."
Exchanging erotic verbal crut-chat via computer has been labeled as a new form of "erotic entertainment in which consenting computer owners exchange X-rated messages over the telephone lines" (Time 1984, p. 83). Allegedly, some couples who meet over the computer and exchange erotic pleasantries sometimes move on to exchange names, telephone numbers, and pictures; they may even arrange dates. Some have gotten married (Time 1984, p. 83). Media accounts have even reported a new formalized or institutionalized bond between computer daters that represents a step in commitment that is short of marriage but perhaps more analogous to an engagement. Some computer partners enter into a "cyber-wedding," an electronic bond that lets the individuals "pledge their love while looking ahead to a future that could include real-life marriage-if they hit it off [when they later meet in person]" (Haight 1994, p. 1). A few years back, erotic exchange by computer was said to be "mostly lighthearted flirting" (Time 1984, p. 83). Recently, however, computer sex has been moving in more intimate and compelling directions. On-line socializing with a member of the opposite sex that has moved beyond
5. Keilh F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
47
lighthearted flirting has been termed "hot chatting" (Tamosaitis 1994, p. 56). The anonymity that computer interaction affords provides selfconfidence, allows the individual to assume almost any identity (e.g., become any age, take on any appearance, and effect any persona), and promotes inspiration. A person can interact with a "computer pal," develop a symbolic sexual intimacy, share erotic fantasies, talk "dirty," and in the process, experience a "tonic" for rus or her real-life sex. Hot chatting in cyberspace appears to help energize the libido of persons who have a jaded sex relationship with their regular partner. As one 45-yearold attorney was reported to have revealed (Tamosaitis 1994, p. 68): I've been married for 15 years and sex with my wife has grown routine. But after I've spent some time in erotic banter "With a sensitive female online, I bring new enthusiasm and desire back into my bedroom.
Such an erotic process would seem to be functional, provided the individual does not become unduly preoccupied with his or her cyberspace "lover." Such a preoccupation could conceivably lead to marital friction. While hot chatting may be a developmental process, with the interaction moving in incremental fashion to more intense levels of salacious conversation, it appears that participants' intentions often are obvious from the outset, as evidenced by the computer names they select. One researcher (Matek 1988, pp. 120-121) has observed, for example, that [O]hscene content is not always a part of this chatter, but the names of "handles" chosen by many of these participants divulge a sexual implication: Honey Blonde, Priapus Rex, Wet End, Love for Tender, Bilady Jugs. At times the "conversation" too is suggestive, and occasionally the computer screens read like a pornographic novel, as wo or more strangers engage in "computer sex" with each of the participants describing successive steps in their fantasy encounter.
Obviously, some individuals derive carnal enjoyment from the mutual use of sexual words with a person of the opposite sex, and the computer handily affords the opportunity with both convenience and anonymity. THE COMPUTER AND SEXUAL DEVlANCY
The computer bulletin board system can provide an enormous, and extremely rapid, contact network for persons of related interests, including those interested "in sexual deviancy. Individuals can seek, identify, and communicate with fellow deviants of similar carnal persuasion across the country, and even around the world. Information from deviant subcultures can be broadly disseminated, and interested new persons can be
48
Functionalism
recruited. Individuals can learn of fOlmal meeting sites, and informal gathering places, and can even arrange a personal rendezvous. The sexual computer network offers a high degree of anonymity, protection, and secrecy. Individuals can, through their personal computer, verbalize their sexual fantasies, and, in some instances, go on to operationalize them. The sexual bulletin boards operate at varying levels of lasciviousness. Some are hardly more than "naughty," while others are disturbingly degenerate, even to the point of being pathological. As in an onion, when each layer of carnality is peeled back, another deeper and more perverse layer is revealed. There are ominous signs in this phenomenon. There are reported to be instances in wmch attempts were made to solidify contacts with teenagers or children who had inadvertently discovered some of the bulletin boards while playing with a computer (Los Angeles Times 1989, pp. 20-21). One newspaper account (Markoff 1992, p. ES) reports: Last fall, a 42-year-old man in Fremont, California, using a nationwide computer conferencing system, posed as a 13-year-old homosexual boy. He said he was electronically approached by someone identifying himself as a 50-year-old New Yorker who tried to arrange a meeting. In Massachusetts in January, a man was indicted for raping a 12-year-old boy whom he befriended through a computer bulletin board.
In a case that occurred several years ago, law enforcement authorilies from California arrested hAlo men in Virginia who were trying to locate a 12-year-old child to molest and then to murder as the subject matter for a "snuff" film (Jackson 1989, pp. 20-21). The authorities discovered the plot through an ad placed by the two men on a computer bulletin board seeking other people with a sexual interest in children. In a telephone conversation with an undercover detective, One of the men indicated that he recognized the risk involved in lddnapping a youngster and then murdering him, but that "the pleasure of doin' it would be worth it." When arrested, one of the men had a supply of muriatic acid to apply to the youngster's corpse. Apparently these are not isolated incidents. A press release from the u.s. Department of Justice issued on Tuesday, August 31, 1993, reported that "people who use computers to obtain child pornography are being arrested and charged by federal prosecutors" (p. 1). The press release went on to say that since May, six persons had been charged or indicted, and nine more cases were to be filed in September. In these cases, the Justice Department had obtained information about a cmld pornography bulletin board in Aalborg, Denmark, known as BAMSE. They had learned that several hundred Americans were using this bulletin board and were paving fees to download Q:raohic imaQ:es. text. ,:lnrl
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
49
computer games dealing with child and hard-core pornography. The U.S. authorities asked the Danish police to seardl the home of the Danish national who operated the bulletin board. The Danish police did so and seized the computer system records and a large number of pornographic pictures of children. A few months later, at the request of U.s. authorities, Danish police raided another home and obtained the computer records of another child pornography bulletin board known as SCREWDRIVER. U.S. Customs Service officials traveled to Denmark to copy the computer records. After examining the records, they discerned that a number of Americans had been "importing" child pornography by computer. A massive federal law enforcement effort called "Operation Long Arm" served 31 search warrants in 15 states and 30 cities. The various indictments reported in the press release resulted from that operation. According to the release, the searches, arrests, and indictments were possible because, "since each purchase had to be made by electronic messaging, detailed records were obtainable" (U.S. Department of Justice, August 13, 1993, p. 2). Agents of various law enforcement agencies, such as U.s. postal inspectors, routinely explore sexually oriented bulletin boards with the intention of catching offenders who are transmitting child pornography or looking to exploit or victimize children. In 1989, after exploring online services, a group of postal inspectors, Illinois state police, Chicago police, and Cook County (lllinois) deputy sheriffs arrested 90 people on charges of trafficking in child pornography and child molestation (Jackson 1989, p. 20). Reports of children encountering the dangers of sexual deviancy as they explore cyberspace are becoming more numerous. One recent newspaper account (Schwartz 1993, p. 26), for example, relates that "an 8-year-old girl [inadvertently was] attempting computer conversations with a group of transvestites." The little girl, according to the newspaper report was "using her computer and modem to make new friends through a service called America On-line" (Schwartz 1993, p. 1) and discovered an electronic discussion group called "TV chat," which stood for "transvestite dlat." The little girl thought it meant "television chat." An adult who happened to be monitoring the interaction fortunately steered the youngster to a more suitable discussion group. The same newspaper account told of a mother who discovered that her "telecomputing 13-year-old son [had] started getting messages full of sexual innuendo from adult women" (Schwartz 1993, p. 26). The same mother also was appalled when "her ll-year-old son was approached on line recently by a woman in her 305 who invited him to do it, perhaps not knowing his age." A Massachusetts prosecutor asserted, "In"'~t:><>rl nf )'",nmno- ", .. n,,-nrl ~),'" .,....l"'u.-.-..nnnrl lnnlr'no- fr. .. ~),t:> In-nQlio,,~ lr-:;rl
50
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
Functionalism
potential child molesters merely have to log on" (Kantrowitz et a1. 1994, p.40). The hazards of cybersex do not pertain only to children. Electronic erotica may also come to be a "rival" in a marriage. In another newspaper report (Garreau 1993, p. A-10), the author reveals: One woman wrote The Washingtoll Post complaining that her husband, who had been in therapy for his sexual problems, found affirmation, acceptance and ultimately physical companionship in the bondage and discipline conference on CompuServe, one of several large switching systems on which subscribers can order merchandise, make airline reservations, check the weather and talk dirty. The pair is now divorcing.
There is yet another danger in cyberspace. Females aTe more sought after than men for computer talk. As a result, some users resort to "gender bending" -a person of one sex (usually a man) portraying himself as the opposite sex. According to a newspaper report, "male wallflowers have learned, however, that if they sign on as women they are instantly flocked to" (Garreau 1993, p. A-lO). Sometimes gender bending can become quite elaborate, and even sinister. One such instance was the case of "Joan," a gregarious computer user who used the handle "Talkin Lady" and became something of an electronic celebrity (see Van Gelder 1985, p. 94). "Joan" claimed to be a New York neuropsychologist in her late 20s who was confined to a wheelchair because of a serious automobile accident that had killed her boyfriend and left her severely disfigured and with multiple physical handicaps. "Joan" had many computer friends and fans. One of her fans, a married woman, developed such affectionate ties to her as a sexual confidant and vicarious "lover" that she almost left her husband. In reality, "Joan" was a prominent New York psychiatrist named Alex in his 50s who made a hobby out of his computer deception. On one occasion, "Joan" introduced a woman "she" met through the computer to the real-life Alex, who went on to have an affair with her. It was traumatic to many of "her" contacts when "Joan's" true identity was revealed. This type of occurrence, coupled -with the reported attempts (sometimes successful) on the part of some individuals to lure juvennes into meetings for sexual purposes, raises the possibility of "gender bending" as a device for developing a misrepresented relationship with a woman via computer and luring her into a meeting for perverse purposes. The use of cyberspace for criminal intent with a sexual dimension sometimes assumes convoluted parameters. It has been reported, for example, that authorities have uncovered that a "violence-prone organization" called the Aryan Brotherhood Youth Movement had establi<:hPr1 plprh"nnir
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51
compile lists of suspected homosexuals for the intended purpose of assaulting them Gackson 1989, p. 20). COMPUTER GUIDES TO SEXUAL DEVIANCE
Whereas there are numerous bulletin boards that address nonsexual deviancy, a significant number also have a sexual orientation. These are available in great variety. Some are like travel guides, in that they provide information about the sexual services (and prices) available in different cities in the United States, Mexico, various countries in Europe, and so forth. Sometimes, specific establishments are mentioned, and some bulletin boards even provide an estimate of mugging risk in each city or place of business. Some of these travel guide bulletin boards deal essentially with prostitution services; others provide details about other sexual commodities, including erotic dancing, stripping, table dancing, lap dancing, nude showering on stage, dancers having sex with each other, being able to inspect the genital areas of nude dancers ("some women will give you a view of spots only her gynecologist sees," advises one bulletin board), and being allowed to touch or fondle the performers. Given today's tolerant standards, the on-line travel guides to erotic establishments are relatively tame. COMPUTER BULLETIN BOARDS AND SEXUAL DEVIANCY "MENUS"
Some on-line bulletin board services make direct appeals for individuals of more perverse appetites. A lengthy exploration of the diversity of bulletin boards available in cyberspace reveals an amazing inventory of sexual interests, carnal activities, and exotic enterprises. A bulletin board can be accessed for almost any sexual appetite or persuasion. The topiCS discussed on these boards range from erotic enemas to zoophilia and include such singular subject matter as ritual genital mutilation, naming the penis, semen speed at ejaculation, having sex with a tiger, breast size versus IQ, pubic hair removal techniques, and a "pop-up" Kama Sutra book. In fact, there have been recent postings from ampotel1l11opiziles, or persons with an "erotic obsession or fetish for amputated limbs or digits" (Money et a!. 1977). One of these individuals had a leg amputated some years ago and now wished to have the other leg amputated as well (presumably for erotic reasons). This person was seeking a medical professional to perform the procedure, and also wished to contact others of similar desires. It is also not uncommon to find individuals attempting to sell porno_ .. _._ L! _
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52
5. Keith F. Durkin and C1ifton D. Bryant
Functionalism
tices (e.g., urolinga and coprophilia), through on-line bulletin boards. In the area of homosexual behaviof, one service lists mOre than 400 gay and lesbian bulletin boards with highly unique names. Among the more active are those concerned with sadism and masochism (S/M). Some of the boards emphasize interest in sexual bondage, self-bondage, sexual spankings, electric shocks; and so on. There seems to be considerable personal E-mail traffic, and some of the messages involve invitations to get together for shopping or dinner when next visiting a particular city, suggesting a long-term network of individuals. Other messages have referred to a "whipping demonstration" to be held in a large East Coast city on a certain date and invited those interested to attend. The existence of elaborate S/M subcultures, complete with consciousness-raising groups, sex clubs, specialized periodicals, and theatrical companies, has been reported by various researchers (e.g., Weinberg and Falk 1980), but the computer appears to expand greatly the geographical boundaries of such subcultures, and dramatically facilitate communication among members and behveen members and interested individuals. Perhaps one of the most unusual of the many sexual bulletin boards are those that concern bestiality (i.e., sexual activities with animals). Some of the information offered on such bulletin boards is so outlandish that one might at first assume it is an elaborate hoax, and, if not a hoax, then perhaps the meanderings of someone's fertile fantasy life. The files from some of the bulletin boards, however, are simply too extensive and too detailed to represent a hoax; it is highly doubtful that someone would go to that much trouble to perpetrate a joke! One bulletin board did suggest that it began as a joke but soon attracted a sincere and dedicated following of persons with a genuine interest.) Furthermore, the information appears to grow at a rate greater than an individual's fantasy could generate. The information available on these bulletin boards includes question and answer files that provide both an introduction and an orientation to bestiality. Some provide graphics files that, according to the editor of the service, "should tell you everything you need to know." Numerous animal-related sex concerns are discussed. Also available are detailed reviews of films and video tapes allegedly portraying sexual activity between humans and animals. Clearly, the market for this type of materials is such that their production is justified. There is every reason to beHeve that the bestiality subculture will grow and that the number of persons involved will proliferate; the computer bulletin board supports such expansion by facilitating contact and communication among persons with such bizarre erotic interests, even when they are geographically separated by vast distances.
53
In fact, there 15 every reason to believe that many, if not most, of ~e deviant sexual subcultures will expand, become more elaborate, and mvolve more people because of the on-li~e ?ul1etin bo~rds. In the pas:, such subcultures were most frequently hmIted to particular geograplue metropolitan areas along the East or West Coasts. . . .. caI areas, su ch as larg th subcultures can readily nehvork WIth mdIVIduals across the N ow ose \ 'd' II . · e worldwide. Even persons w 10 resI e ID sma towns m na h on, or ev n . .' I . h imil' the heartland can more readily contact other mdlvIdua 5 wIt ~ ar sexual interests in their general vicinity and interact with t~em VIa computer. If conditions of mutual trust can be met, meetmgs can be arranged; and, in time, larger groupings can be formed. . . There is the possibility that bulletin ?oard ~~er~ may be msplred by other users to attempt convoluted erotic grati~cation through, fo~ example, sexual asphyxia (see Lowery and v:'eth 198~) or other anti-~o cial or violent sexual practices. The hazard inherent m carnal scenanos of these varieties, of course, is that they may be harmful or dangerous to self or others, especially the youthful computer us:r. Some of the sexual themes featured on bul1e~n boa~ds ar~ merely the sexually exotic. Others are grotesque in their smgulanty. S~ll others are redolent of pathology. Some crOSS the line of illegality. Most If not all, however, would be of interest to the sexologist or the researcher of de-
viant behavior.
THE SOCIAL MEANING OF ELECTRONIC EROTICA The emergence of computer sex can be interpreted at.va~ous [unctionallevels. First, it may be viewed as intellectual ;sraffitt. LIke some morE conventional varieties of graffiti, computer erotica be an outlet for a person's carnal thoughts or a manifestation of sexualIty. It can be a plea for sexual advice (or an attempt to give it), or it .may affo:d ~ sense of sexual self-assertion or even an expression of hostile sexuality, .Inasmuch as graffiti blatantly violates the sodal norms that circumscnbe sexual expression whHe avoiding external social sanction (see Bryant ~982, pp. 116-117, 129). In a similar vein, cybersex may s?~etimes fu~c~on as an electro1lic aphrodisiac, helping to energize the lIbIdo and remvl~orate a genuine sexual relationship that has been burdened by routme and
cm:
enn~~mputer erotica can also be concep~alized as illteractive extemalized fantasy. The isolated sexual deviant WIth an unusual sexual. prefer-
ence may previously have had to rely on fanta~y ,for carn~l fulfillment. Now such fantasies can be operationalized wlthm a SOCial context. In
54
Functionalism
addition to simply facilitating contact with others who have similar inclinations, computer bulletin boards also make it easier for sexual fantasies to be reinforced and fed. A passing erotic interest of perverse stripe that might have withered previously may now be nourished by the knowledge that other persons who harbor similar erotic desires exist and that anonymous interaction through the computer is possible. Furthermore, the computer would seem to serve as a catalytic or facilitating mecllallism. In the past, technolOgical change has often proved to be the catalyst for dramatic social change, sometimes highly functional and other times highly dysfunctional. Often, the social change has been sufficiently widespread and has had enough social support to constitute a new normative pattern-a technicway. But teclmological change has often also been a catalyst for new forms of deviant behavior. The computer has proved to be something of a supercatalyst for both functional social change and deviant behavior. In effect, the computer "makes it happen!" The computer may also be viewed as a ge171lil1atioll Q/ld distribution mechallism for sexual deviancy. It possesses the capabilities for creating, imitating, enhancing, and extending deviant sexual behavior. The computer can provide an incredibly rapid communication link -with a vast number of people throughout the United States and the world. In this way, the process of diffusion, including the dJffusion of criminal and deviant practices, can be expanded and facilitated in an almost exponential fashion. The Tibetan monk writes his prayers on a piece of papeJi places the paper in his prayer wheel, and spins the wheel, thereby "multiplying" and "amplifying" his message to the gods. The computer seems to serve much the same function, "multiplying" and "amplifying" the deviant messages to all those who log on. The computer operates as a social cOHsolidatioll mechanism, inasmuch a: it can aggregate large numbers of individuals of similar sexually deVIant persuasion with great facility. The individual deviant can easily identify other, similar deviants and subsequently fonn social coalitions. In doing so, a "critical mass" of persons seeking a social context for their deviant inclinations is achieved. The computer is also a highly effective learning device, and the would-be deviant can readily locate expertise and edification. MO,st important, perhaps, the computer can be conceptualized as a mecJwllIsm of metamorphosis, or a kind of deviant "dream machine." Deviant sexual fantasies that might well have remained simply the distorted musings of an imaginative mind may now be operationalized and implemented. Like the genie in the bottle, the computer can transfonn deviant sexual reverie into deviant reality by feeding and enriching
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
55
the individual's fantasies, aiding him or her in identifying others with analogous sexual predilections, assisting in the coalescence of like-minded sexual deviants, and contributing to the constitution of an opportunity structure for the actualization of the fantasied behavior.
THE COMPUTER, SOCIAL BEHAVIOR, AND RESEARCH Arguably, computers have precipitated something of a revolution in the social enterprise (Vander Zanden 1993, pp. 394-397). They have generated other new technology, automated some aspects of workplace activities, altered the way we relate to one another, permitted vast accumulations of data, facilitated communication, and drastically altered our patterns of consumption and recreation, to mention ~ut a f~,,:, aspects of human behavior that have been affected. Perhaps .m antiopation of the preceived societal benefits of computers, some wnters have expressed "extravagant optimism and romanticism" in regard to the growth of computer use (for example, Neustadter 1991, p. 175). Computers, however, have also been used dysfunctionally to invade personal privacy, subsequently eroding confidentiality (Vander Zanden 1993, p. 396). Additionally, they have generated a variety of social problems ranging from the malfunction of military computers, almost causing accidental war, to an increased sense of social isolatio~ an~ alienation experienced by some workers (We5sells 1990, p. 2). Sooal soence researchers have noted the social import of computers and have begun to investigate a wide variety of topicS related to this import and the resultant behavioral patterns. Such research has included, among other things, an examination of students' E-mail (McCormick and McCormick 1992), perceptions of computer communication partners (Shamp 1991), communication reciprocity in computer interaction (M.ihalo 1985), patterns of use and motivation among users of electr?nlc bulletin boards (Rafaeli 1986), motivations for and satisfactions obtamed from political computer bulletin boards (Garram.one e~ al. 1986), the maintenance of individualization through the marupulation of computer-mediated communication contexts (Myers 1987), participation and group consensus in computer-mediated commu~ca~on (Kie~ler et aL 1984), and the use of computers in teen commurucahons (SmIth 1985). The research focus in much of the social science joumalliterature on computer behavior is on the dynamics of the communication process itself. The body of literature on such topics is growing rapidly, and a number of professional journals, including several in the field of computer science, such as Conlputers altd SociettJ, Computers and UrbQ1J Society,
56
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant
Functionalism
and Computers aJld People, often include articles that address computerinfluenced social behavior patterns. There are also numerous essays and articles devoted to the topic of the magnitude of the social impact that the computer is having on our lives and the society in which we live. The phenomenon of computer-engendered crime and deviant behavior has not escaped social scientists. Pfuhl (1987), for example, has addressed the topic of computer abuse and "hackers" and has examined existing literature in this regard. Individuals in the field of computer science appear to have found the subject of somewhat more compelling interest and have addressed a variety of related topics, including the psychometric characteristics of computer criminals (Watson-MWlIo 1986), students' attitudes toward computer crime (Coldwell 1993), software theft (Forester 1990), computer abuse in organizations (Kling 1981), the parameters of computer crime (Coldwell 1990), and computer crime as a career (Becker 1982). The concern in much of the literature, however, is on deviant practices in the use of computer technology. Beyond exploring deviant computer practices, the emerging literature in disciplines such as computer science (and some business fields) appears to concentrate on the computer as a tool or mechanism useful for the commission of white-collar crime. Practices such as camouflaging embezzlement, using deceptive billing practices, or falsifying reports, figures, and inventories are typical examples. The social parameters of computer-aided deviancy and crime are considerably more vast, however. In this regard, some configurations of computer deviancy have essentially been ignored by behavioral science researchers. What seems to be conspicuously lacking are investigative efforts to document, explore, and analyze the newly emerging socially deviant use of computers, founded on the unique capabilities, characteristics, and applications of computer communication, especially the evolution of non-white-collar deviant and criminal behavioral patterns, including sexual deviancy, which may be the most significant oversight. The mass media and popular press are providing glimpses of the larger social dimensions of computer deviance, especially sexual deviance, but the phenomenon awaits systematic research by sociologists and other behavioral scientists. Sexually proscribed activities via computer cyberspace seem to constitute the newest frontier in the field of deviant behavior.
57
viancy remains to be seen. Given the increasing computer precociousness of many adolescents, there is genuine reason for apprehension in regard to the latter. In regard to both possibilities, only the tip of the iceberg has revealed itself thus far. There is an enormous range of opportunities for systematic research of computer sex. The phenomenon is easily accessed, the participants are only a keyboard away, and those individuals who are involved appear to be eager to communicate with interested parties. In effect, the computer constitutes an electronic survey research mechanism with enormous potential for innovative investigation of deviancy, although some sampling limitations need to be resolved. Just as the computer has begun to revolutionize social life, it will revolutionize crime and deviancy, especially the parameters of deviant sexual behavior; in fact, it is doing so already. The computer may well also revolutionize research addressing crime and deviant behavior. Regardless of the outcome, however, the computer is today's Pandora's Box, and the lid is already open.
REFERENCES Becker, Jay. 1982. "Computer Crime: Career of the Future." Computer alld Socieh) 12:12-15. Borna, Shaheen, Joseph Chapman, and Dennis Menezes. 1993. "Deceptive Nature of Dial-a-Pom Commercials and Public Policy Alternatives. /ollmal of Bllsilless Ethics 12:503-509. Brockopp, Gene W., and David Lester. 1969. "The Masturbator." Crisis Intervention 1:10-13. Bryant, Clifton D. 1982. Sexual Devi(lIlcy alld Social Proscription. New York: Human Science Press.
--.1984. "Odum's Concept of the Technjc\vays: Some Reflections on an Underdeveloped Sociological Nation." Sociological SpeclmIH 4:115-142. Coldwell, R. A. 1990. "Social Parameters of Computer Crime." Austrnlimz Compiller JOllmal22(2):43-46.
--.1993. "University Students' Attitudes Towards Computer Crime: A Research Note." Compllters and Society 23:11-H. Forester, Tom. 1990. "Softvvare Theft and the Problem of Intellectual Property Rights." Computer mu! Society 20:2-11.
THE PROGNOSIS FOR COMPUTER SEX RESEARCH
Garramone, Gina M., Allen C. Harris, and Ronald Anderson. 1986. "Uses of Political Computer Bulletin Boards." Journal afBroadcnsting & Electrollic Medin 30:325-339.
",het~er the con;pt~ter is simply a glorified pornography communica-
Garreau, Joel. 1993, November 29. "Bawdy Bytes: The Growing World of Cy-
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Glascock, Jack, and Robert LaRose. 1993. DiaI-a-Porn Recordings: The Role of the Female Participant in Male Sexual Fantasies. JOlJrnal of Broadcastill u & Electronic Media 39:313-324. .;, Haight,. Kathy. 1~94'"March 7. "~ove: Couples Are Meeting, Courting, Getting Marned On-LIne. Ronl1oke Tunes alld World-News (Extra Section). pp. 1, 3. Horvitz, Robert. 1989. "The USENET Underground." Whole Enrth Review (Wmter):111-115. Jackson, Robert L. 1989, October 1. "Computer-Crime Sleuths Go Underground." Los Angeles Times. p. 20. Kantrowitz, Barbara, Patricia King, and Debra Rosenberg. 1994, April 18. "Child Abuse in Cyberspace." Newsweek. p. 40. Kiesler, Sara, Jane Siegel, and Timothy W. McGuire. 1984. "Social Psychological Aspects of Computer-Mediated Communication." American Psychologist 39:1123-1134. IGein, Lloyd. 1981. "Sex Solicitation by Short-Wave Radio." Creative SociologJ) 9:61-68. King, Rob. 1981. "Computer Abuse and Computer Crime as Organizational Activities." Computers and Society 11:12-24. Lester, David. 1973. "Telephone Counseling and the Masturbator: A Dilemma." ClillicllI Social Work JOIII"1l1111:257-260.
Los Angeles Times. 1989, October 1. "Child Molesters Use Electronic Networks: Computer-Crime Sleuths Go Undercover." pp. 20-21.
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Money, John, Russell Jobaris, and Gregg Furth. 1977. "Ampotemnophilia: Two Cases of Self-Demand Amputation as a Paraphilia." lOl/mll1 of Sex Resellrch, 13:115-125. Myers, David. 1987. "Anonymity Is Part?f t~e Magic: In~~vidu~ ~anip~a non of Computer-Mediated Commurucation Contexts. QUlllltatlve SOCIOlogy 10:251-266. Nadler, R. P.1968. ''Approach to Psycho-Analysis of Obscene Telephone Calls." New York State JOllrnal of Medicine 68:521-526. Neustadter, Roger. 1991. "A Kinder and Gentler Machine: The Rise of Computer Romanticism." Free IIIquiry ill Creative Sociology 19:175-179.
The New York Times. 1989, April 2. "As Computer Bulletin Boards Grow: If It's Out There It's Posted Here." p. B38. Odum, Howard W. 1937. "Notes on the Technicways in Contemporary Society." Americnn Sociological Review 2:336-346. Ogburn, William F. 1964. Chicago Press.
all Culture and Social Change. Chicago: University of
Pllrade. 1976, July 4. "Dirty-Story Time." p. 20. Pfilhl, Erdwin H., Jr. 1987. "Computer Abuse: Problems of Instrumental Control." Deviant Be!lflvior 8:113--130. Rafaeli, Shalzaf. 1986. "The Electronic Bulletin Board: A Computer-Driven Mass Medium." Computers Ilnd the Socilll Sciences 1:113-136.
Lowery, Sharon A, and Charles V. Wetli. 1982. "Sexual AsphYXia: A Neglected Area of Study." Deviant BeJwvior 4:19-40.
Schwartz, John. 1993, November 28. "Caution: Children at Play on the Information Highway (Access to Adult Networks Holds Hazards)." The WllshingtOil Post. pp. I, 26.
Luxenburg, !oan, and Lloyd Klein. 1984. "CB Radio Prostitution: Technology and the DIsplacement of Deviance." Journal ofOffellder COl/llseling, Services, and Rehabilitation, 9(Fall/Wmter):71-87.
Smith, Ruth E. 1985. "Computer Bulletin Boards: New Wave in Teen Communications." Futurist 19:28-29.
McConnick, Naomi B., and John W. McCormick, 1992. "Computer Friends and Foes: Contents of Undergraduates' Electronic Mail." Computer ill Humall Belmvior 8:379-405.
Tamosaitis, Nancy. 1994. "Modem Sex: Can OnIine Fantasies Rev Up Your Libido?" Longevity ?:56, 68.
Time. 1984, May 14. "X-Rated: The Joys of Compusex." p. 83.
Marlcoff, John. 1992, March 22. "Sex by Computer: The Latest Technology Fuels the Oldest of Drives." New York Times. p. 5.
U.S. Department of Justice. 1986. The Attorney General's Commission 011 POrllOgmphy, Final Report. Washington, DC: US Government Printing Office.
Matek, Ord. 1988. "Obscene Phone Callers." Jourlmi of Social Work nnd HI/mllll Sexulllity 7:113--130.
---.1993, August 31. "Feds Crack Down on Computer Importation of Child Pornography." Press release.
Mead, Beverly F. 1975. "Coping with Obscene Phone Calls." Medical Aspects of HllnUlJ1 Sexuality 9:127-128.
US News and World Report. 1985, June 3. "For Every Taste a Bulletin Board." p.59.
Ivlihalo, Williarn E 1985. "The Microcomputer and Social Relationships." Compllters mId the Social Sciences 1:3-4.
Van Gelder, Lindsey. 1985, October. "The Strange Case of the Electronic Lover." Ms. pp. 94, 99, 101-104, 117, 123-124.
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Vander Zanden, James W. 1993. SociologJf The Core, 2nd ed. New York: McGraw-Hill. Watson-Munro, T. 1986. "The Psychometric Properties of White Collar Computer Criminals." Complller COlltrol Quarterly (Spring):45--48. Weinberg, Thomas S., and Gerhard Falk. 1980. "The social organization of sadism and masochism." Devimlt Beltavior 1:379-394. Wessells, Michael. 1990. Computer, Self flnd Society. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.
NOTES 1.
All sorts of technological inventions and procedures have had a heavy impact on sOciety. The steam engine, the cotton gin, the telegraph, the telephone, the automobile, the airplane, the still and movie cameras, radio, television, and the computer have all drastically altered the nature of 50ciallife. Even simple inventions such as the safety pin, the paper dip, the aerosol spray can, and the safety razor have brought about significant changes in cultural patterns and social behavior. Various behavioral scientists have spoken to the question of technology and social change. William F. Ogburn (1964), for example, advanced the notion of clIltllrallag by suggesting that nonmaterial culture change occurS more slowly than material culture change. In effect, technolOgical change invites adaptation, but the subsequent social change may be slow in occurring. 2. Howard W. Odum (1937) also addressed social change and pointed out that, where new technology is accepted, the response or adaptation to the innovation or new technological process takes the form of tecJlIlicways, or normative behavior patterns. A technicway encompasses more than merely the socially habituated use of a particular technique or tool, however. For Odum, the concept also referred to a more generalized value system stance or ideological posture as an adaptive response to certain technology and innovation. The cause and effect linkages may be somewhat more convoluted than simple innovation-produdng behavioral response. For example, after King Gillette invented the safety razor, home shaving for men became a national grooming pattern. Beyond this, however, social values shifted to the point that the bearded male face was considered objectionable, if not uncouth, certainly among "gentlemen" (at least until the 19605). In his discussion of Od urn's concept, Bryant (1984) suggested that technicways do not always occur as a single swell of normative adaptive response to new technology. but rather, in some instances, the social response may occur in a chain-reaction fashion, assuming the form of secolldary or even tertian; technicways as well as priman;. The availability of the husband's safety razor in the home led to the grooming pattern of women shaving their legs (a secondary technicway), and, in time, the <:1,"'''''''"1 I"' ...." 1",./
~,,~L._ £ __ 1..:
__ _ l
_1. _ .. ' .
61
Further reflection on the ripple effect of social adaptation to innovation and new technological processes seems to indicate tha~ tedmi.cways may often mutate, as it were, in an aberrant fashion, beconung d~vtnllt t~ch nicways. Such seems to have been the case with numerous InnovatIOns, including the computer. 3. The maker of an obscene phone call, relying on anonymity, can telephone a victim and utter obscenities or sexually explicit suggestions, or simply breathe heavily into the receiver, in a real or simulated lustful fashion and derive vicarious carnal gratification in the process (Nadler 1968, pp. 521-526; Mead 1975, pp. 127-126; Matek 1966, pp. 113-130). . 4. Other, more elaborative variations on telephone-related sexual devlancy include the telephone masturbator (Brockopp and Lester 1969, pp. 10-13; Lester 1973, pp. 257-260). The male deviant calls a female (?ften a counselor at an open-line crisis therapy agency) and, se:xually shmu~ated by the sound of the female therapiSt's voice, engages m masturbation. The telephone masturbator uses the conversation with.the ur:lmown female as the basis for sexual fantasy and vicarious carnal stimulatIOn. He can embellish the sexual drama with his own imaginative ability and masturbate as a constituent part of the fantasy, with complete anonymity, thanks to . the teclmology of the telephone. 5. For those of less imaginative bent, the telephone has enabled the offermg of "dirty" stories, obscene language, and salacious conv~r~ation ~rom a female as part of a commercial service. Alleged to have orIgmated m Jap~n (Parade 1976, p. 20), the so-called "dial-a-pom" ~ervices ~a:e become bIg business in the United States. The individual With a lasavIOUS aural appetite can dial an advertised telephone number and be carnally entertained, either by a conversation with a paid female performer, or by listening to a prerecorded message (see Boma, Chapman, and Menezes 1993' Glascock and LaRose 1993). In either instance, the caller hears sexuany ~xplicit talk or sounds and is billed for the time .on the line, on his or her monthly telephone bill (U.S. Department of JustIce 1986, pp. 1428-1436). (Although primarily used by males, women do use these ser6.
.. . vices.) Both a computer and a modem (a lelecommumcatJonal deVICe f.or computers) are a prerequisite for gaining aCcess to tj~ese sexually.onentat;d. bulletin boards. To access these services, users dial the bulletm board s mbound phone number. Some of these numbers may be obtained from advertisements in computer or pornographic magazines, others by word-of-mouth. Moreover, once one bulletin board is accessed, information about other boards can readily be obtained from that service. When people initially call one of these bulletin boards, they ty~ica~ly have to complete a registration process. Users normally have to mdIcate that they are older than 18 or 21, and that they are not an employee of any law enforcement agency. Also, users normally h~ve to pay a r~gistration fee. Although this payment may be made by maIl, man~ serVlCes ~llow users to make the payment on line by credit card. After thIS process:s complete,
62
Functionalism
One notable exception to the aforementioned procedures is USENET. USENET is an international noncommercial information network used by persons at academic institutions, research facilities, and major corporations. This network is made possible by more than 1,600 mainframe computers that act as data transfer stations (Horvitz 1989). Access is free to persons at sponsoring sites. It is estimated that well over 500,000 people have access to USENET (Horvitz 1989). Information on this network is categorized into newsgroups, each of which provides postings on one or more of a multitude of topics. There are hundreds of newsgroups, a few of which are dedicated to topics of a prurient nature. For example, there are newsgroups dedicated to bestiality, sadomasochism, masturbation, and pornographic movies. Several news groups contain personal ads from a multitude of sexual deviants, such as, for example, sadomasochists and swingers.
CHAPTER
11 Social Disorganization
Around the turn of the nineteenth century, two major events took place in the development of the sociology of deviance. The first was the creation in 1892, at the University of Chicago, of the first sociology department in the United States. The faculty of this department freed themselves from the moral focus that had characterized earlier explanations of deviance and created a new, distinctly American social science. The second development was the emergence of the Chicago School of theorists in the early part of the hventieth century. The work of these sociologists provided coherence to theory, research, and the development of a substantial body of knowledge that came to influence numerous other theoretical developments and research paradigms within the field of sociology in general and the study of deviance in particular. One of the distinctive features of the Chicago School was its attentiveness to documenting various aspects of social life in its immediate geographical environment, the city of Chicago. Borrowing somewhat loosely from biology, the Chicagoans developed an ecological model of urban life and used it to study extensively the growth of the city, the various social territories in it, the lifestyle of its inhabitants, and the effects of social change on organization, disorganization, and reorganization within the city. The ecological perspective offered a framework within which these sociologists could study the social order of the city in terms of selection, competition, change, cooperation, and symbiosis. They concluded that these natural processes were affecting and disrupting the mechanisms of social control, with the result that social dis~ organization and deviance were increasing. Tills social disorganization theory concentrated on the political, economic, and social changes that were sweeping the country at the time,
64
Social Disorganization
lems of the heterogeneous, rapidly changing nature of the society of the United States, in contrast to the established European orientation of the functionalists. While the changes themselves were generally viewed as progressive, their concurrent effects, such as increases in the rates of crime, delinquency, suicide, and mental illness, were seen as negative. A noticeable wea1<ening in the organization of social life seemed to follow from the rapid increases in industrialization, urbanization, immigration, and internal migration. Social disorganization theorists hypothesized a relationship between this increasing social complexity and higher rates of deviance, particularly in the large urban areas of America. They took note of the apparent predominance of deviance in certain city areas or zones that were characterized by numerous large immigrant groups, extreme poverty, transient residents, deteriorated housing, and a general lack of stable communily institutions. On the assumption that such factors contribute to instability, an absence of close interpersonal relationships, and a breakdown in effective social control of behavior, they concluded that these zones could be expected to be disproportionately characterized by social disorganization. In the cities they studied, the social disorder of the central city areas appeared to possess distinct characteristics that created the conditions conducive to continuously high rates of deviance, irrespective of the composition of the populations residing in them. Like the functionalists, disorganization theorists accepted the basic proposition that a society is a complex whole whose parts (Le., institutions, associations) are interdependent and maintain some sort of equilibrium. Their writings emphasize the harmony that can unify a society; normally, people are presumed to agree with one another about values and norms, so high degrees of behavioral regularity and social organization can be expected. Put another way, social organization (social order) exists when behavioral regularity and internal cohesion bind the individuals and institutions in a society closely together. This cohesion consists largely of a consensus about goals worth striving for (values) and how or how not to behave (norms). When consensus concerning values and norms is upset and traditional rules no longer appear to apply, conflict, social disorganization, and the volume of deviance are all apt to increase. The first reading in this chapter (Reading 6) is from The Polish Peasant in Europe and America, by W. 1. Thomas and FIorian Znaniecki. These authors stress that social disorganization develops whenever a society or social group is exposed to new ideas and customs that are not effectively incorporated into the "host" social order. They view disorganization as common to all societies in periods of rapid change and
Social Disorganization
65
especially when massive immigration occurs, as it did in the United States during the early part of this century. Thomas and Znaniecki attempt to explain the processes that led to the erosion of primary (face-to-face) relationships within both immigrant groups and the society to which these groups were emigrating. They define social disorganization in terms of the decreasing effectiveness of existing social rules in controlling the behavior of individuals. In a group or a society whose composition is quickly changing, the members often develop new attitudes that free them to engage in activities that do not comply with the established rules, and this weakens the social order. For Thomas and Znaniecki, then, it is during periods of sociocultural change that social disorganization is apt to be most widespread and intense. Robert Park maintains in Reading 7 that as a society becomes more heterogeneous, primary relationships are subject to strain, which in turn leads to a decrease in traditio.Qal social control mechanisms. This reading is a section from The CitJj, by Park, Ernest W. Burgess, and Roderick D. McKenzie, that was authored by Park in 1925. At that time, rapid social change was taking place due to urbanization, industrialization, and mobility of the population. According to Park, the change accompanying the movement from village communities to cities was disrupting routine ways of living and traditional methods of regulating behavior, resulting in social disorganization. Reading 8, by Robert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham, also deals with the effects of social change on social order in urban areas. This excerpt from their book Mental Disorders in Urban Areas is concerned with how the degree of social disorganization was related to the amount and types of deviant behavior found in various sections of Chicago during the 19205 and 19305. Each area of the city was analyzed on the basis of a number of indicators to measure the extent of its social disorganization. Faris and Dunham reported that mental disorders (especially schizophrenia), like many other types of deviance, were comparatively more prevalent in highly disorganized areas of the city. C. Wright Mills criticizes the assumptions he sees as inherent in the writings of social disorganization theorists in Reading 9, the Analysis and Critique section for this chapter. Mills notes that what he calls the "social pathologists" share an essentially similar view of deviant behavior that reflects their relatively homogeneous middle-class, rural backgrounds. The orientation of these theorists toward deviance. also was shaped by an ideology that places the blame on individuals for their transgressions from generally accepted societa! norms. Thus, in Mills's view, the social pathologists see individual deviance as peculiar
66
Social Disorganization
6. W. I. Thomas and Florian Znaniecki
67
behavior attributable to inadequate sacialization, rather than a phenomenon inextricably bound to the social structure of American society. By accepting and legitimizing the status quo, these writers ignore a broader theoretical framework that would include social, historical, and political forces in an analysis of deviance. Furthermore, by denigrating the individual deviant, the social pathologists fail to take into account the roles played by special-interest and power groups in the formulation of definitions of deviance and the application of sanctions with reference to who and what is deviant. Mills's focus on the reliance on middle-class norms in disorganization theory has been the basis for three pertinent criticisms of this theory. One is the attempt of disorganization theorists to explain deviance in the lower class to the virtual exclusion of the middle and upper classes. The lower class was assumed to have higher rates of deviance because its members were located in the most disorganized areas of the city. Thus, by circular reasoning, the lower class was most deviant because it was the most disorganized, and it was, at the same time, the most disorganized because it contained the most deviants. Another criticism of the theory concerns its emphasis on "official" statistics of pathological behavior. In relying almost exclusively on official rates of deviance-for example, admissions to mental hospitals, criminal justice agency data on crime and delinquency, and so on-disorganization theorists overlooked the fact that these data might actually be a reflection of factors related to social control or social class practices (see Chapters V and VII), rather than ecolOgical processes. The third criticism is that disorganization theorists appear to have been biased in favor of prevailing middle-class values and norms in their production of a consensus model of society wherein disorganization is viewed as dysfunctional. Any divergence from these orientations was viewed as dysfunctional and upsetting to the established harmony in society. Little attention was paid to the fact that social change, while it may disrupt the existing conseruus, may at the same time increase social solidarity. That is, all social change does not necessarily lead to social disorganization.
tics, and subcultural variables. In this sense, communities are not homogeneous entities influencing the behavior of their inhabitants in a similar fashion, resulting in high rates of specific forms of deviance. Rather, rates of deviance are influenced by both the variability of dominant structural characteristics of the neighborhood and the influence of mediating subcultural factors betvveen social disorganization and behavior. ill an examination of these assumptions, Esbensen and Huizinga focus on three issues. First, are the factors characteristic of social disorganization (e.g., high rates of family instability, poverty, transiency, density) uniformly present in all socially disorganized communities? Second, do these structural factors influence drug use in the same way in which crime and delinquency is influenced? Third, what effects do micro-level factors (e.g., subcultural values) have on the decision to use drugs? The results of Esbensen and Huizinga's research support the view that ecological factors are predictive of social disorganization, although not in a unilinear fashion. In other words, socially disorganized areas are not homogenous. They are each affected by different clusters of structural variables that alone do not necessarily explain the reasons why people may deviate (in this case, drug use) or the form that it takes. Thus, while the data support the view that structural factors leading to social disorganization may be important in explaining why the rates of deviance may be higher in socially disorganized areas, they do not fully explain why everyone exposed to these factors does not deviate. To do so requires that research in this area examine the importance of individual-level variables that influence interaction and resulting behavior. As Esbensen and Huizinga note, "Different types of community structures may foster different interactional patterns and the subsequent creation of different learning environments." It is in this sense that research should focus on the relationship between ecological and mediating factors leading to deviance in differentially disorganized areas.
Reading 10, by Esbensen and Huizinga in the Contemporary Application section of this chapter, is an example of research that attempts to respond to some of the criticisms leveled against social disorganization theory. In so doing, the authors examine major propositions of disorganization theory and indicate ways in which it may also serve as a bridge to differential association theory, which is coruidered in Chapter IV. The authors point out that recent research influenced by social disorganization theory indicates that neighborhoods can be differentiated based upon land use, socioeconomic factors, demographic characteris-
(; The Concept of Social Disorganization W. I. THOMAS and FLORIAN ZNANIECKI The concept of social disorganization as we shall use it ... refers primarily to institutions and only secondarily to men. Just as grouporganization embodied in socially systematized schemes of behavior Reprinted by permission from TIll! Polisll PCIISllllt ill Europe lIJ1d AlllericlI, by W. l. Thomas and Florian Znaniecki, Vo!. IV (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1918).
68
Social Disorganization
imposed as rules upon individuals never exactly coincides with individual life-organization consisting in personally systematized schemes of behavior, so social disorganization never exactly corresponds to individual disorganization. Even if we imagined a group lacking all internal differentiation, i.e., a group in which every member would accept all the sOcially sanctioned and none but the socially sanctioned rules of behavior as schemes of his own conduct, still every member would systematize these schemes differently in his personal evolution, would make a different life-organization out of them, because neither rus temperament nor his life-history would be exactly the same as those of other members. As a matter of fact, such a uniform group is a pure fiction; even in the least differentiated groups we find socially sanctioned rules of behavior which explicitly apply only to certain classes of individuals and are not supposed to be used by others in organizing their conduct, and we find individuals who in organizing their conduct use some personal schemes of their own invention besides the traditionally sanctioned social rules. Moreover, the progress of social differentiation is accompanied by a growth of special institutions, consisting essentially in a systematic organization of a certain number of socially selected schemes for the permanent achievement of certain results. This institutional organization and the life-organization of any of the individuals tluough whose activity the institution is socially realized partly overlap, but one individual cannot fully realize in his life the whole systematic organization of the institution since the latter always implies the collaboration of man)" and on the other hand each individual has many interests which have to be organized outside of trus particular institution.
These points must be kept in mind if we are to understand the question of socia~ disorganization. We can define the latter briefly as a decrease of the mfluellce of existing social rules of behavior ttpOll i1ldividual members of the group. This decrease may present innumerable degrees, ranging from a single break of some particular rule by one individual up to a general decay of all the institutions of the group. Now, social disorganization in this sense has no unequivocal connection whatever with individual disorganization, which consists in a decrease of the individual's ability to organize his whole life for the efficient, progressive and continuous realization of his fundamental interests. An individual who brea~s some or e.ven most of the social rules prevailing in his group may mdeed do tlus because he is losing the minimum capacity of life-organization required by social conformism; but he may also reject the
6. W. I. Thom
69
schemes of behavior imposed by his milieu because they hinder him in reaching a more efficient and more comprehensive life-organization. On the other hand also, the sodal organization of a group may be very permanent and strong in the sense that no opposition is manifested to the existing rules and institutions; and yet, this lack of opposition may be simply the result of the narrowness of the interests of the group-members and may be accompanied by a very rudimentary, mechanical and inefficient life-organization of eadl member individually. Of course, a strong group organization may be also the product of a conscious moral effort of its members and thus correspond to a very high degree of lifeorganization of each of them individually. It is therefore impossible to conclude from social as to individual organization or disorganization, or vice versa. In other words, sodal organization is not coextensive with individual morality,. nor does social disorganization correspond to individual demoralization. Social disorganization is not an exceptional phenomenon limited to certain periods or certain sodeties; some of it is found always and everywhere, since always and everywhere there are individual cases of breaking social rules, cases which exercise some disorganizing influence on group institutions and, if not counteracted, are apt to multiply and to lead to a complete decay of the latter. But during periods of social stability this continuous incipient disorganization is continuously neutralized by such activilies of the group as reinforce with the help of social sanctions the power of existing rules. The stability of group institutions is thus simply a dynamic equilibrium of processes of disorganization and reorgallizatioJ1. This equilibrium is disturbed when processes of disorganization can no longer be checked by any attempts to reinforce the existing rules. A period of prevalent disorganization follows, which may lead to a complete dissolution of the group. More usually, however, it is counteracted and stopped before it reaches this limit by a new process of reorganization whidl in this case does not consist in a mere reinforcement of the decaying organization, but in a production of new schemes of behavior and new institutions better adapted to the changed demands of the group; we call this production of new schemes and institutions social reconstruction. Social reconstruction is possible only because and in so far as, during the period of social disorganization a part at least of the members of the group have not become individually disorganized, but, on the contrary, have been working toward a new and more efficient personal life-organization and have expressed a part at least of the constructive tendencies implied in their individual activities in an effort to produce new social institutions.
70
Social Disorganization
~~ long as we are concerned with disorganization alone, leaving provlslOnall~ aside the following process of reconstruction, the phe-
no~enon w~ch we want to explain is evidently the appearance of such attitudes as llTIpair the efficiency of existing rules of behavior and thus lead to t~e. decay of. soc~al institutions. Every social rule is the expression of a defimte combination of certain attitudes; if instead of these attitudes some others appear, the influence of the rule is disturbed. There may be thus several different ways in which a rule can lose its effiden~I and still more numerous ways in which an institution, which always mvolves several regulating schemes, can fall into decay. The causal explanation of any particular case of social disorganization demands thus that we find, ~rst of all, w~at are the particular attitudes whose appe~ance mamfests Itself SOCially in the loss of influence of the existing socIal rules, and then try to determine the causes of these attitudes. Our tendenc~ should ~e, or course, to analyze the apparent diversity and complexIty of particular sodal processes into a limited number of more or less general causal facts, and this tendency can be realized in the ~tu~y of disorganization if we find that the decay of differellt rules existIng In a given society is the objective manifestation of similar attitudes t~at, in o.the~ words, many given, apparently different phenomena of dIsorgaruzation can be causally explained in the same way. We cannot reach any laws of social disorganization, i.e., we cannot find causes which always and everywhere produce social disorganization; we can only hope .to determine laws of sOcio-psychological becoming, i.e., find causes which always and everywhere produce certain definite attitudes and tl:ese causes will explain also social disorganization in all thos~ cases m which it will be fo~d that the attitudes produced by them are the real ?ac~gr?un~ of socIal disorganization, that the decay of given rules or Institutions IS merely the objective, superficial manifestation of the appearance of these attitudes. Our task is the same as that of the physicist or chemist who does not attempt to find laws of the multifo~ changes which happen in the sensual appearance of our material envrronment, ~t searches for laws of the more fundamental and general processes whIch a.re supposed to underlie those directly observable changes, and explams the latter causally only in so far as it can be shown that .they are the superficial manifestations of certain deeper, causally explicable effects.
7. Robert E. Park
71
7 Social Change and Social Disorganization ROBERT E. PARK In the family and in the neighborhood such organization as exists is based upon custom and tradition, and is fixed in what Sumner calls the folkways and the mores. At this stage, society is a purely natural product; a product of the spontaneous and unreflective responses of individuals living together in intimate, personal, and face-to-face relations. Under such circumstances conscious efforts to discipline the individual and enforce the social code are directed merely by intuition and common sense. In the larger social unit, the community, where social relations are more formal and less intimate, the situation is different. It is in the community, rather than in the family or the neighborhood, that formal organizations like the church, the school, and the courts come into existence and get their separate functions defined. With the advent of these institutions, and through their mediation, the community is able to supplement, and to some extent supplant, the family and the neighborhood as a means for the discipline and control of the individuaL However, neither the orphan asylum nor any other agency has thus far succeeded in providing a wholly satisfactory substitute for the home. The evidence of tlns is that they have no alumni association. They create no memories and traditions that those who graduate from them are disposed to cherish and keep alive. It is in this community with its various organizations and its rationat rather than traditional, schemes of control, and not elsewhere, that we have delinquency. Delinquency is, in fact, in some sense the measure of the failure of our community organizations to function. Historically, the background of American life has been the village community. Until a few years ago the typical American was, and perhaps still is, an inhabitant of a middle western village; such a village, perhaps, as Sin clair Lewis describes in Main Street. And still, today, the most characteristic trait of Homo Americanus is an inveterate individualism which may, to be sure, have been temperamentat but in that case temperament has certainly been considerably reinforced by the conditions oflife on the frontier. But with the growth of great cities, with the vast division of labor which has come in with machine industry, and with movement and change that have come about with the multiplication of the means of Reprinted from Robert E. Park, Ernest W. Burgess, i1nd Ruderick D. Mc[(enzie, The Clly (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 105-1lD. Copyright © 1967 by the Uni__ •••.. . r .... ! ·
72
Social Disorganization
transportation and communication, the old fonns of social control represented by the family, the neighborhood, and the local community have been undermined and their influence greatly diminished. This process by which the authority and influence of an earlier culture and system of social control is undermined and eventually des treyed is described by Thomas-looking at it from the side of the individual-as a process of "individualization." But looking at it from the point of view of society and the community it is social disorganization. We are living in such a period of individualization and social disorganization. Everything is in a state of agitation-everything seems to be undergoing a change. Society is, apparently, not much more than a congeries and constellation of social atoms. Habits can be formed only in a relatively stable environment, even if that stability consists merely-as, in fact, it invariably does, since there is nothing in the universe that is absolutely static-in a relatively constant form of change. Any form of change that brings any measurable alteration in the routine of social life tends to break up habits; and in breaking up the habits upon which the existing social organization rests, destroys that organization itself. Every new device that affects social life and the social routine is to that extent a disorganizing influence. Every new discovery, every new invention, every new idea, is disturbing. Even news has become at times so dangerous that governments have felt it wise to suppress its publication. It is probable that the most deadly and the most demoralizing single instrumentality of present-day civilization is the automobile. The automobile bandit, operating in our great cities, is much more successful and more dangerous than the romantic stage robber of fifty years ago. The connection of the automobile with vice is notorious. liThe automobile is connected with more seductions than happen otherwise in cities altogether."l The newspaper and the motion picture show, while not so deadly, are almost as demoralizing. If I were to attempt to enumerate all the sodal forces that have contributed to the disorganization of modern society I should probably be compelled to make a catalogue of everything that has introduced any new and striking change into the otherwise dull routine of our daily life. Apparently anything that makes life interesting is dangerous to the existing order. The mere movement of the popUlation from one part of the country to another-the present migration of the Negroes northward, for example-is a disturbing influence. Such a movement may assume, from the point of view of the migrants themselves, the character of an emancipation, opening to them new economic and cultural opportunities, but it is none the less disoI2:anizinQ" to the communinf's thpv h;:JVP jpft hphinrl
7. Robert E. Park
73
and to the communities into which they are now moving. It is at the same time demoralizing to the migrating people themselves, and particularly, I might add, to the younger generation. The enormous amount of delinquency, juvenile and adult, that exists today in the Negro communities in northern cities is due in part, though not entirely, to the fact that migrants are not able to accommodate themselves at once to a new and relatively strange environment. The same thing may be said of the immigrants from Europe, or of the younger generation of women who are just now entering in such large numbers into the newer occupations and the freer life which the great cities offer them. "Progress," as I once heard William James remark, "is a terrible thing." It is a terrible thing in so far as it breaks up the routine upon which an existing social order rests, and thus destroys the cultural and the economic values, i.e., the habits of thrift, of skill, of industry, as well as the personal hopes, ambitions, and life-programs which are the content of that social order. Our great cities, as those who have studied them have learned, are full of junk, much of it human, Le., men and women who, for some reason or other, have fallen out of line in the march of industrial progress and have been scrapped by the industrial organization of which they were once a part. A recent study by Nels Anderson of what he calls "Hobohemia," an area in Chicago just outside the "Loop," that is to say, the dovmtovm business area, which is almost wholly inhabited by homeless men, is a study of such a human junk heap. In fact, the slum areas that invariably grow up just on the edge of the business areas of great cities, areas of deteriorated houses, of poverty, vice, and crime, are areas of social junk. I might add, because of its immediate connection with the problems and interests of this association, that recent studies made in Chicago of boys' gangs seem to show that there are no playgrounds in the city in which a boy can find so much advenrure, no place where he can find so much that may be called "real sport, as in these areas of general deterioration which we call the slums. In order to meet and deal with the problems that have been created by the rapid changes of modem life, new organizations and agencies have sprung into existence. The older social agencies, the church, the school, and the courts, have not always been able to meet the problems which new conditions of life have created. The school, the church, and the courts have come down to us with their aims and methods defined under the influence of an older tradition. New agencies have been necf>ssarv to meet the new conditions. Among these new agencies are the ju/I
74
Social Disorganization
j venile courts, juvenile protective associations, parent~l:eachers' associations, Boy Scouts, Young Men's Christian Associations settlements~ boys' clubs of various sorts? and I presume, playgrounds and playground associations. These agencies have taken over to some extent the work which neither the home, the neighborhood, nor the other older communal institutions were able to carry on adequately. These new institutions, perhaps because they are not to the same extent hampered by our earlier traditions, are frankly experimental and are trying to work out a rational technique for dealing with social problems, bas'ed not on sentiment and tradition, but on science. Largely on the basis of the experiments which these new agencies are making, a new social science is coming into existence. Under the impetus which the social agencies have given to social investigation and social research, sociology is ceasing to be a mere philosophy and is assuming more and more the character of an empirical, if not an exact, science. As to the present condition of our science and of the devices that we have invented for controlling conduct and social Hfe, I can only repeat what I said at the very outset of our paper: "The thing of which we still know least is the business of carrying on an associated existence."
NOTE 1.
W, L Thomas, The UlllldjJ!sted Girl-with Cases nnd StaTldpoilli fDr Befwvior Analysis, Criminal Science Monograph No. 4, Boston, 1923, p. 71.
8 Natura! Areas of the City ROBERT E. L. FARIS and H. WARREN DUNHAM A relationship between urbanism and social disorganization has long been recognized and demonstrated, Crude rural-urban comparisons of rates of dependency, crime, divorce and desertion, suicide, and vice have shown these problems to be more severe in the cties. especially the large rapidly expanding industrial cities. But as the study of urban sociology advanced/ even more striking comparisons between the different sections of a city were discovered, Some parts were found to be as stable and peaceful as any well-organized rural neighborhood while other Reprinted from Roberl E. L. Farls and H, Wilrren Dunham, Mental Disordcrs jn Ur!1[lJl Areas (Chicago; University of Chicilgo Press. 1965), pp. 1-10, 19-21. By permission of Vera S. Dunham.
parts were found ,to ~e in. the e~treme stage~ of social dis?rganization. Extreme disorgaruzalIon IS confined to certam areas and IS not characteristic of all sections of the city. Out of the interaction of social and economic forces that cause city growth a pattern is formed in these large expanding American cities which is the same for all the cities with local variations die to topographical and other differences. This pattern is not planned or intended, and to a certain extent resists control by planning. The understanding of this order is necessary to the understanding of the social disorganization that characterizes urban life,
j
J
j j
THE NATURAL AREAS DEPICTED AS CIRCULAR ZONES
j
The most striking characteristics of this urban pattern as described by Professor Burgess,l may be represented by a system of concentric zones shown in Chart 8.1. Zone I, at the center, is the central business district. The space is occupied by stores, business offices, places of amusement, light industry, and other business establishments. There are few residents in this area, except for transients inhabiting the large hotels, and the homeless men of the "hobohemia" section which is usually located on the fringe of the business district. Zone I1 is called the zone in transition, This designation refers to the fact that the expanding industrial region encroaches on the inner edge, Land values are high because of the expectation of sale for indus~ trial purposes, and since residential buildings are not expected to occupy the land permanently, they are not kept in an improved state. Therefore, residential buildings arE in a deteriorated state and rents are low. These slums are inhabited largely by unskilled laborers and their families. An the settlements of foreign populations as wen as the rooming-house areas ate located in this zone, Zone Ill, the zone of workingmen's homes, is inhabited by a somewhat more stable population with a higher percentage of skilled laborers and fewer foreign-born und unskilled. It is intermediate in many respects betvveen the slum areas and the residential areas. In it is located the "Deutsch1ands," or second immigrant settlement colollies, representing the second generation of those families who have migrated from Zone I1. Zones N and V, the apartment-house and commuters' zones, are in11abited principally by upper-middle-class families. A high percentage own their homes and reside for long petiods at the same address. In these areas stability is the rule and social disorganization exceptional 1
J
j j j j j j j
nr ;lho:::ont
j
j
76
Social Disorganization
CHART 8.1
8. Robert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham
NATURAL AREAS AND URBAN ZDNES
URBANAREAS ,,
,,
--"
,,
,
,
,
,
,,
,
...... ,
,,
,
,
•'
• 1l!:
•
.
: RESIDENTIAL:
,
,,
,
, ,,
I
ZONE
,
,,• , , /1l
"~(.oMM1J1E R
,;;,,"
ZOHE
.'
From R. E. Park and E. W. Burgess, 17le City (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925).
77
The characteristics of the populations in these zones appear to be produced by the nature of the ~if~ within the zones rather t~an the n~ verse. This is shown by the strIking fact that the zones retam all theIr characteristics as different populations flow through them. The large part of the population migration into the city. con5is~?f the influx of unskilled labor into the second zone, the zone ID transItion. These new arrivals displace the populations already there, forcing them to move farther out into the next zone. In general, the flow of population in the city is of this character, from the inner zones toward the outer ones. Each zone, however, retains its characteristics whether its inhabitants be native-born white, foreign-born, or Negro. Also each racial or national group changes its character as it moves from one zone to the next. Within this system of zones, there is further sifting and sorting of economic and social institutions and of populations. In the competition for land values at the center of the city, each type of business finds the place in which it can survive. The finding of the place is not infrequently by trial and error, those locating the wrong place failing. There emerge from this competition financial sections, retail department store sections, theater sections, sections for physicians' and dentists' offices, for specialized shops, for light industry, for warehouses, etc. Similarly, there are specialized regions for homeless men, for rooming-houses, for apartment hotels, and for single homes. The location of each of these is determined ecologically and the characteristics also result from the interaction of unplanned forces. They maintain their characteristics in spite of the flow of various racial and national groups through them and invariably impress their effects on each of these groups. These have been called "natural areas" by Professor Park? because they result from the interactions of natural forces and are not the result of human intentions. Fortunately, the city of Chicago has been studied somewhat more intensively than most cities of its size. Certain of these areas are significant in relation to social disorganization. It is possible to define and describe these areas with certain kinds of objective data. The major divisions of the city can be seen in Map 8.1. Extending outward from the central business district are the principal industrial and railroad properties. The rooming-house sections extend along three arms radiating from the center to the north, west, and south. The slum areas are roughly defined by the regions containing over 50 per cent foreign-born and native-born of foreign parentage and over 50 per cent Negro. Beyond these areas is the residential section. In the Lake Calumet section at the southeastern corner of the city lS another industrial region inhabited by a forcignborn population.
78
Social Disorganization
MAP 8.1
TYPES OF CULTURAL AND ECONOM1C AREAS
LEGEND
o
Rantals Qval S60 Per Month or Over
50% Homas Owned
~
Rooming House Area
o
Over 50% Foreign While Slock (except Garman and SWlldLshj
~
Over 50% Negro
III
Major Railroad and IndU5\nal Properly
Adilpled fmm Rabert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham, Menilll Disonll'!"5 in LIr!'II,1 Arcl1s, copyright ID 1965 by the University of Chicago. Origini\! map ildnpled from milps prep<1red by theSoc\u\ Science Re"p,,~("h ,,,,,,,"';'1,,,, ,1,,,, 1.. ;"".~(", "f rj,ir~n"
Too small to be shown on this map are the areas of homeless menthe "hobohemia" areas. 3 These are located on three main radial streets and are just outside the central business district. Their inhabitants are the most unstable in the city. The mobility and anonymity of their existence produces a lack of sociability and in many cases deterioration of the personality. Although spending their time in the most crowded parts of the city, these homeless men are actually extremely isolated. For the most part they represent persons unable to obtain an economic foothold in society, and so they maintain themselves by occasionallabor, by petty tl1ievery, by begging, and by receiving charity. As they have no opportunity for normal married life, Uleir sexual activities are limited to relations with the lowest type of prostitutes and to homosexuals. The rate of venereal infection is high among these men. Chronic alcoholism is also Cl common characteristic of the members of this group. Their lives are without goal or plan, and they drift aimlessly and alone, always farther from the conventional and normal ways of living. Another area of importance is the rooming-house area. This is usually located along main arteries of transportation and a little farther from the center of the city. In Chicago there are several rooming-house sections, the three largest consisting of arms radiating to the north, west, and south, just beyond the hobohemia areas, each extending for something over two miles in length and from a half-rni1e to over a mile in width. The populations of these areas are principally young, unmarried white-coUar workers, who are employed in the central business district during the day and live in low-priced rented rooms within walking distance or a short ride from their work. 4 Within the area the population is constantly shifting, turning over entirely about once each four months. Anonymity and isolation also characterize the social relations in this areai no one knows his neighbors and no one cares what they might think or say. Consequently the social control of primary group relations is absent, and the result is a breakdown of standards of personal behavior and a drifting into unconventionality and into dissipations and excesses of various sorts. The rates of venereal diseases and of alcoholism are high in this area, and the suicide rate is higher than for any other area of the city.s The foreign-born slum areas occupy a large zone surroWlding the central business and industrial area. Within this zone there are a number of segregated ethnic communities, such as the Italian, Polish, Jewish, Russian, and Mexican districts. The newly arrived immigrants of any nationality settle in these communities with their feHow-countrymen. In these groups the language, customs, and many institutions of their former culture are at least partly preserved. In some of the most successfully isolated of these, such as the Russian-Jewish "ghetto," the Old-
80
8. Robert E. L. Fads and H. Warren Dunham
Social Disorganization
World cultures are preserved almost intact. Where this is the case, there may be a very successful social control and little social disorganization, especially in the first generation. But as soon as the isolation of these first-settlement communities begins to break down, the disorganization is severe. Extreme poverty is the rule; high rates of juvenile delinquency, family disorganization, and alcoholism reflect the various stresses in the lives of these populations. Two distinct types of disorganizing factors can be seen in the foreign-born slum areas. The first is the isolation of the older generation, the foreign-born who speak English with difficulty or not at all and who are never quite able to become assimilated to the point of establishing intimate friendships with anyone other than their native countrymen. Within the segregated ethnic communities these persons are well adapted to their surroundings, but as soon as they move away or are deserted by their neighbors, they suffer from social isolation. 6 The second type of disorganizing factor operates among the members of the second and third generations. The very high delinquency rate among the secondgeneration children has been shown by Shaw'? 1his disorganization can be shown to develop from the nature of the child's social situation. Also growing out of the peculiar social situation of the second generation is the mental conflict of the person who is in process of trar:tSition behveen two cultures-the culture of his ancestors and the culture of the new world in which he lives. As he attends American schools and plays with children of other than his own nationality, the child soon finds himself separated from the world of his parents. He loses respect for their customs and traditions and in many cases becomes ashamed of his own nationality, while at the same time he often fails to gain complete acceptance into the American group of his own generation. This is particularly true if he is distinguished by calor or by features which betray his racial or national origin. TIlls person is then a "man without a culture," for though he participates to some extent in two cultures, he rejects the one and is not entirely accepted by the other. 8 The Negro areas are, in general, similar in character to the foreignborn slum areas. The principal Negro district in Chicago extends for several miles southward from the business district. Two smaller Negro districts are located on the Near West Side, as well as one on the Near North Side. In the larger area on the South Side, the social disorganization is extreme only at the part nearest the business district. 9 In the parts farther to the south live the Negroes who have resided longer in the city and who have become more successful economically. These communities have much the same character as the nearby apartment-house areas inhabited by native-born whites.
81
For some miles along the Lake Front in Chicago a long strip of apart. ment-hotel districts has grown up. 111ese districts occupy a very ple.ast and favorable location and attract residents who are able to pay high :ntals. The rates of various indices of social disorganization are in generallow in these sections. . The outlying residential districts of middle-class and upper-rruddIe-class native-born white population live in apartments, two-flat homes, and single homes. In these districts, and especially the single homes areaS in which there is a large percentage of homes owned by the inhabitants, the population is stable and there is little or no social disorganization in comparison with those areas near the center of the city.
Not only are such statistical facts as population composition, ~itera cy, dependency rates, and disease rates known to vary g~eatly ill the different sections of the city, but also mental life and behavlOr. In one of the most conclusive of these studies, the study of juvenile delinquency by Clifford R. Shaw and his associates, 10 suffici~t control was .obtained to establish with reasonable certainty that the high rates of delinquency were products not of the biological inferiority of the population stocks that inhabit the slum areas, nor of any racial or national peculiarity, but rather of the nature of the social life in the areas themselves. The delinquency rates remained constantly high in certain urban areas which were inhabited by as many as six different national groups in succession. Each nationality suffered from the same disorganization in these areas and each nationality alike improved after moving away from the deteriorated areas. As has been shown, the natural areas which have been defined above can be identified by the use of certain mathematical indices for different types of social phenomena. Such indices as the percentage of foreign-bOlTI, the percentage of homes owned, the sex ratio, the median rentals paid, the density of population, the rate of mobility, the educational rate, the percentage of rooming-houses and hotels, and the percentage of condemned buildings, roughly tend to identify these areas and to differentiate between them. These indices might be regarded as ones which measure the extent of social disorganization between the different communities and the natural areas of the city. Other types of objective date, representing such social problems as juvenile delinquency, illegitimacy, suicide, crime, and family disorganization, might be considered as indices representing effects or results of certain types of social processes. As in the research of Clifford Shaw which has been
82
Social Disorganization
described above, the rates for these different social problems tend to fit rather closely into the ecological shucture of the city as described by Park, Burgess, and others. In other words, in all of these social problems there is the concentration of high rates close to the center of the city;. with the rates declining in magnitude as one travels in any direction toward the city's periphery. Shaw's study of juvenile delinquency gives onc of the most complete pictures of this pattern. The other studies, in general, show the same pattern with certain variations which develop because of the location of certain ethnic groups in certain parts of the city. The problem of mental disorder has been for the first time approached by the utilizing of this ecological technique. It is the attempt to examine the spatial character of the relations between persons who have different kinds of mental breal<downs. While this type of approach is used in this study, the authors wish to emphasize that they regard it as having definite limitations in understanding the entire problem of mental disorder. It can be looked upon as a purely cultural approach and as such does not tend to conflict with any understanding of tills problem which may come from biological, physiological, or psychological approaches. However, in the light of these previous studies of social problems utilizing this method it does seem particularly desirable to study the distribution of the different types of mental disorders.
NOTES 1.
R. E. Park and E. W. Burgess, The City (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1925). 2.
R. E. Park, "SOciology," in Research ill the Social Sciellces, ed. Wilson Gee
(New York: Macmillan Co., 1929), pp. 28-29. Nels Anderson, Tile Hobo (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1923). H. W. Zorbaugh, The Gold Coast {//ld the Slum (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1929). 5. R. S. Cavan, Suicide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928). 6. Louis Wirth, Tile Glzetto (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928). 7. C. R. Shaw et al., Delillquency Areas (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1929). 8. Everett Stonequist, TIle Margillal Mall (New York: Charles Scribner's SODS,1937). 9. E. Franklin Frazier, The Negro Family ill Chicago (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1932). 10. C R. Shaw and H. D. McKay, Report 011 tfli! Causes of Crime, National Commission on Law Observance and Enforcement (Washington, nc: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1931). 3. 4.
9. C. Wright Mills
83
Analysis and Critique 9
The Professional Ideology
of Social Pathologists
C. WRIGHT MILLS An analysis of textbooks in the field of social disorganization reveals a common style of thought which is open to social imputation. By grasping the social orientation of this general perspective we can ~derstand why thinkers in this field should select and handle problems m ille manner in which they have. By virtue of the mechanism of sales and distribution, textbooks tend to embody a content agreed upon by the academic group using them. In some cases texts have been written only after an informal poll was taken on professional opinion as to what should be included, and other texts are consulted in the writing of a new one. Since One test of their success is wide adoption, the very spread of the public for which they are written tends to insure a textbook tolerance of the commonplace. Although the conceptual framework of a pathologist's textbook is not usuaUy significantly different from that of such monographs as he may write, this essay is not concerned with the Ifcomplete thought" or with the "intentions" of individual authors; it is a study of a professional ideology variously exhibited in a set of textbooks.' Yet, because of its persistent importance in the development of American sociology and its supposed proximity to the social scene, "social pathology" seems an appropriate point of entry for the examination of the style of reflection and the social-historical basis of American sociology. The level of abstraction which characterizes these texts is so low that often they seem to be empirically confused for lack of abstraction to knit them together. 2 They display bodies of meagerly connected facts, ranging from rape in rural districts to public hOllsing, and intellectually sanction this low level of abstraction. 3 The "informational" character of social pathology is linked with a failure to consider total social struchires. Collecting and dealing in a fragmentary way with scattered problems and facts of milieux, these books are not focused on larger stratifications or upon structured whales. Such an omission may not be accounted for merely in terms of a general "theoretical weakness." Such structural analyses have been available; yet they have not been attendReprinted with permission from C. Wright Mills, "The Professionillldcology of Saciill Pilthologists," AII1t'riCIIJl jOllmnl oJ50cio!ogy, vot. 49 (September 1942), pp. 165-80. Copy....:_1..."", ,n.'" 1.. ••• ,-_, 1_' .. ___ '< •• _,,....,., ___ _
84
Social Disorganiza non
ed to or received into the tradition of this literature. American sociologists have often asserted an interest in the" correlation of the social sciences"; nevertheless, academic departmentalization may well have been instrumental in atomizing the problems which they have addressed. 4 Sociologists have always felt that "not many representatives of the older forms of social science are ready to admit that there is a function for sociology."5 However, neither lack of theoretical ability nOf restrictive channeling through departmentalization constitutes a full explanation of the low level of abstraction and the accompanying failure to consider larger problems of social structure. If the members of an academic profession are recruited from similar social contexts and if their backgrounds and careers are relatively similar, there is a tendency for them to be uniformly set for some common perspective. The common conditions of their profession often seem more important in this connection than similarity of extraction. Within such a generally homogeneous group there tend to be fewer divergent points of view which would clash over the meaning of facts and thus give rise to interpretations on a more theoreticalleve1. 6 The relatively homogeneous extraction and similar careers of American pathologists is a possible factor in the low level of abstraction characterizing their work. All the authors considered7 (except one, who was foreign born) were born in small towns, or on farms near small tmvlls, three-fourths of which were in states not industrialized during the youth of the authors. The social circles and strata in which they have severally moved are quite homogeneous; all but five have participated in similar "reform" groups and "societies" of the professional and business classes. By virtue of their being college professors (all but three are known to have the Ph.D.), of the similar type of temporary positions (other than academic) which they have held, of the sameness of the "societies" to which they have belonged and of the social positions of the persons whom they have married, the assertion as regards general similarity of social extraction, career, and circles of contact seems justified. 8 A further determinant of the level of abstraction and lack of explicit systematization (beyond which the mentality we are examining does not easily or typically go) is the immediate purpose and the type of public for which they have presumably written. They have been teachers and their specific public has been college students: this has influenced the content and direction of their intellectual endeavors. 9 Teaching is a task which requires a type of systematization to which the textbook answers. Most of the "systematic" or "theoretical" work in "social pathology" has been performed by teachers in textbooks for academic purposes. ID 'The fact that sociology often won its academic right to existence in nnnn.cdtinn tn nthpr rlpn",rh,..,pnh, T'n<>H h"'~fD ; .........,.. .......... ...1 ~h ... ~ ...
't f r textbook systematization. Such systematization occurs in a cesstYt of 0 . ' fcation i ' rath er tl1an Wl·th·ID a context presentation and of lusti t X cone ' pro f ' ft!le of discovery. 11 The textbook-writing and the ac.a d eInlC essI.on 0 't tl1us ficrure in the character and functIOn of systematic theory wn ers 0 akin within the fieldY Systematization of facts for the purpo.se ~f m . g h them accessible to collegiate minds is one thing; systematizatio~
wtu:
is oriented toward crucial growing-points in a research process IS qUlte ther. An attempt to systematize on the level of the textbook makes for a taxonomic gathering of facts m:d a syst~matl~atlOn 0 fthem und ~r concepts that have already be.en lOgIcally ~efmed. 3 ~e research POSSIbilities of concepts are not as unportant as IS the puttmg of the accumulated factual details into some sort of order. But, even though the perspectives of these texts are usually not explicit, the facts selected for treatment are no~ u:andom." One way to grasp the perspective within which they do lie IS to anal~ze the scope and character of their problems. What, then, are the selecting and organizing principles to be extracted from the range and content of these texts? What types .of fa~t ~ome within the~ field ,~f att~ntion? "_ The direction 15 defirutely toward partICular practical problems problems of "everyday life."!4 The ideal of practicality, of not being "utopian," operated, in conjunction with other factors, as a polemIC against the "philosophy of history" brought into American ~ociology by men trained in Germany; this polemic implemented the dnve to lower levels of abstraction. A view of isolated and immediate problems as the "real" problems may well be characteristic of a society rapidly ~owing and expanding, as America was in the nineteenth century and, Ideologically, in the early tvventieth century. The depictive mod~ of speech and the heavy journalishc "survey" are intellectual concotn1~~nts of an :xpanding society in which new routines are ri.sing and CIties are bem? built.ls Such an approach is then sanctioned WIth canons of what con:t~ lutes real knowledge; the practice of the detailed and complete e~~lf1cism of the survey is justified by an epistemology of gross descnphon. TI1ese nonns of adequate knowledge linger in an academic tradition t? mold the work of its bearers. The emphasis upon fragmentary,16 practical problems tends to atomize social objectives. 111e studies so infor~ed are not integrated into designs comprehensi,:e enough t~ serve collectIve action, granted the power and intent t? ~eali~e such act,~on. . One of the pervasive ways of defmmg problems or of detectmg "disorganization" is in terms of deviation frOIH Horms. The "norms" so used are usually held to be the standards of "society." Later we ,shall see to what type of society they are oriented. In the ~bs~nce Of. studies of specific norms themselves this mode of problematlZatlOn shIfts the re-
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Social Disorganization
mocratic" rationale to his work. I7 Rationally, it would seem that those wh? accept this approach to "disorganization" would immediately exalllIne these norms themselves. It is significant that given their interest in reforming society, which is usually avowed, these writers typically assume the norms which they use and often tacitly sanction them. lB There are few attempts to explain deviations from norms in terms of the norms themselves, and no rigorous facing of the implications of the fact that social transformations would involve shifts ill tTJeI1L. The easy way to meet the question of why norms are violated is in terms of biological impulses which break through "societal restrictions." A paste-pot eclectic psychology provides a rationale for this facile analysiS.~9 Thus, more comprehensive problematization is blocked by a biolOgICal theory of social deviation. And the "explanation" of deviations can be put in terms of a requirement for more "socialization./I "Socializa~on" is either undefined, used as a moral epithet, or implies norms which are themselves without definition. The focus on "the facts" takes no cognizance of the normative structures within which they lie. TIle texts tend either to be "apolitica1"20 or to aspire to a "democratic".opportunism. 21 When the political sphere is discussed, its pathologIcal phases are usually stated in terms of "the antisocial," or of "corruption/' etc. 22 In another form the political is tacitly identified with ~he pro~er functioning of the current and unexammed political order; it IS espeCIally likely to be identified with a legal process or the administration of laws. TIlf the "norms" were examined, the investigator would perhaps be carried to see total strucrures of norms and to relate these to dis:ributions of power. Such a structural point of sight is not usually achIeved. The level of abstraction does not rise to permit examination of these normative structures themselves, or of why they come to be transgressed, or of their political implications. Instead, this literature discusses many kinds of apparently unrelated "situations." About the time W. 1. Thomas stated the vocabulary of the situational approach, a social worker was finding it congenial and useful. In M. E. Richmond's influential Social Diagnosis (1917) we gain a clue as to why pathologists tend to slip past structure to focus on isolated situatio~, ,:~y there, ~s a tendency for problems to be considered as problems of mdlvlduals,-'i and why sequences of situations were not seen as linked into Structures: So~ia.l ?Jagnosis .... may be described as the attempt to make as exact a
a:
~efinihon possible of tt:e s~tua~on and personality of a human being m some socIal need-of his SItuation and personality, that is, in relalion to the other human beings upon whom he in any way depends or who depend upon him, and in relation also to the social institutions of his community,25
9. C. Wright Mills
87
. I. d of formulation has been widely applied to isolated "prob-
This
lems" s .. al affinity with other elements which charactenze theu gener perspective. 27 • Present institutions train several types ,0£ p:rso~~;-suc~ as J~~~es 'al workers-to think in terms of "sltuations. - TheIr activltIes an d SQel . f' 'th' and mental outlook aIe set within the eXIstent n~rms 0 sO:lety: ID err rofessional work they tend to have an occupatiOnally tramed mcapacPty to rise above series of "cases." It is in part through such concepts as ~'situation" and through such methods as "the case ~pproach"~9 tl:at 50. I thologists have been intellectually tied to socIal work WIth Its ocCIa pa . ... . tl irnil' . f anty 0 ational position and politicallimitanons. And, agaID, le s Cll P I ." f origin and the probable lack of any. continuous c asS e~penence 0 the crroup of thinkers decrease thelr chances to see soctal structure.s rath~r than a scatter of situations. 1he mediums of ~xperience ~d ~n entalion through which they respectively view soclety are. too smular, too homogeneous, to permit the clash of diverse angles which, through controversy, might lead to the construction of a whole. . The paramount fact of immigration in Americ~r: culture, WIth each wave of immigrants displacing the lower-class pOSItion of former waves and raising the position of the earlie~ immigrants, ~~o te~ds to obscure structural and class position. 3D TI1US, mstead ~f p~s~tlOnallssues, pa~ol ogists typically see problems in te~ms of an md.lvld~~, s.uc~ as a~, unmigrant, "adjusting" to a miheu31 or bemg ~sslmI~ate~ o.r Americanized. Instead of problems of class structure mvolvmg unrrugration, the tendency has been to institute ?roble~s ~.terms of immigration involving the nationalist assimil.a~IOn of. m~lvlduals. ~he fa:t that some individuals have had opporturuhes to nse ill the Amencan hierarchy decreases the chance fully to see the ceiHr:gs of class. Under these conditions such structures are seen as fluctuatmg and unsubstantial and are likely to be explained not in terms of class positiol1 but in terms of status attitudes.'J2 Another element that tends to obviate an analytic view of structu~e is the emphasis upon the "processual" and "org~nic" c.h~racter of SOCIety. In Cooley, whose influence on these books IS dec~slVe, o~e gets a highly formal, many-si~ed fluidity :-rhere "nothing is fix~d o~ ~~epen dent, everything is plastic and takes mfluen~e as well as gIves It. F~om the standpoint of political action, such a VIew may mean a reforr:n~sm dealing with masses of detail and furthers a tendency t~ be a~ohtl.caL There can be no bases or points of entry for larger SOCIal actlOn in a structureless flux. The view is buttressed epistemologically with an emotionalized animus against " par ticularism" and with the intense approval JI
88
Social Disorganization
al '~multiple-factor" view does not lead to a conception of causation ,:hlch w~~ld permit points of entry for broader types of action, especlal.1y pO~lhcal action.35 No set of underlying structural shifts is given which ffilght be open to manipulation, at key points, and which, like the fact of private property in a corporate economy, might be seen as efficacious in producing many "problems." If one fragmentalizes society into IIfactors," into elemental bits, naturally one will then need quite a few of them to account for something,36 and one can never be sure they are all in. A formal emphasis upon "the whole" plus lack of total structural consideration plus a focus upon scattered situations does not make it easy to reform the status quo. The "organic" orientation of liberalism has stressed all those social factors which tend to a harmonious balance of elements. 37 There is a minimization of chances for action in a social milieu where "there is always continuity with the past, and not only with anyone element only of the past, but with the whole interacting organism of man."38 In seeing everything social as continuous process, changes in pace and revolutionary dislocations are missed39 or are taken as signs of the "pathological." The formality and the assumed unity implied by "the mores" also lower the chances to see social chasms and structural dislocations. Typically, pathologists have not attempted to construct a structural whole. When, however, they do consider totalities, it is in terms of such concepts as "society," "the social order," or "the social organization," "the mores and institutions," and "American culture." Four things sho~ld be noted about their use of such terms: (a) The terms represent undifferentiated entities. Whatever they may indicate, it is systematically homogeneous. Uncritical use of such a term as "the" permits a writer the hidden assumption in pOlitically crucial contexts of a homogeneous and harmonious whole:lO The large texture of "the society" will take care of itself, it is somehow and in the long nm harmonious,41 it has a "strain toward consistency" running through it,42 or, if not this, then only the co-operation of all is needed,43 or perhaps even a right moral feeling is taken as a solution. 44 (b) In their formal emptiness these ~erms .a:e commensurate with the low level of abstraction. Their jonl1alrh) faCliltates the empirical concern with "everyday" problems of (community) milieu. (c) In addition to their "descriptive" use, such tenus are used normatively. The "social" becomes a good term when it is used in ethical polemics against "individualism" or against such abstract moral qualities as "selfishness," lack of "altruism," or of "antisocial" sentiments.45 "Social" is conceived as a "co-operative" "sharing" of something or as "conducive to the general welfare."46 The late eighteenth-century use, of "s?~ie~" .a~. ag~t .~'~tate" by the rising bourgeoisie had already
9. C. Wright MW::;
. (d) There is a strong tendency for the term "society" to be practiwts. . terms 0 f · , pnmary groups ' ated to, or conceived large1y In caya 11 s simil .. ch . . allY cl1arII homogeneous cornmuruties. Su a conception typlC and sma . 47 In 1·· ·t te izes the literature within our purvIew. exp ammg 1 , we come ~~o~ an element that is highly important in understanding the total
perspective. The basis of "stability," "order," or "solidarity" is not typically anad in these books but a conception of such a basis is implicitly used Iy z e ' . 0 f a socm . IIy ''11e althy " d sanctioned 48 for some normative conception : d stable org~zation is involved in the determination ~f "pathologi1" conditions. "Pathological" behavior is not discerned m a structural ~:nse (i.e., as incommensurate with an existent struc~al type! ~r in .a statistical sense (i.e., as deviations from centra~ tendenc~e~). This IS e~I d ced by the regular assertion that pathologlcal conditlOns abollad m ~; City.49 U they "abound" therein, they cannot be "abnormal" in the tatistical sense and are not likely to prevail in the structural sense. It ~ay be proposed that the norms in terms of which "pathological" conditions are detected are "humanitarian ideals." But we must then ask for the social orientation of such ideals. so In this literature the operating criteria of the pathological are typically rural in orientation and extraction. 51 Most of the "problems" considered arise because of the urban deterioration of certain values which can live genuinely only in a relatively homogeneous and primary rural milieu. The "problems" discussed typically concern urban behavior. When ."rural pr~bIe.ms'~?are disc~ssed, they are conceived as due to encroaching urballlzation. - The notion ~f disorganization is quite often merely the absence of that ty~e.of org~ zation associated with the stuff of primary-group commulllties havmg s3 Christian and Jeffersonian legitimations. Cooley, the local colorist of American sociology, was the chief pu~ licist of this conception of normal organization. He he~d "the gr~at ~s torical task of mankind" to be the more effective and WIder orgaruzation of that moral order and pattern of virtues developed in primary groups and communities.S.1 Cooley took the idealists' absoluteS:> and gave It the characteristics of an organic village; all the world should be an enlarged, Christian-democratic version of a rural village. He practically assimilated "society" to this primary-group coffilfiunity, and he blessed it emotionally and conceptually." "There is reflected here," says T. V. Smith of Cooley-and what he says will hold for the typical ~ocial patholo gist-"what is highly COffilfion in our culture, an ldeal of mtimacy short of which we do not rest satisfied where other people are concerned. Social distance is a dire fate, achieved with difficulty and lamented ~s high-
90
Social Disorganization
9. C. Wright Mills
enough to have saints; we must have 'communion' of the saints. In order to have social relations, we must nuzzle one another."S? The aim to preserve rurally oriented values and stabilities is indicat~d b~ ~e implicit model which operates to detect urban disorganizatIOn; 1~ IS, also shown by the stress upon community welfare. The comrnuruty IS taken as a major unit, and often it sets the scope of concern and pr?blematization,s8 It is also within the framework of ideally democratic communities that proposed solutions are to be worked out. 59 It sho~d be noted th~t sometimes, although not typically or exclusively, solutions are conceIved as dependent upon abstract moral traits or democratic surrogates of them, such as a "unanimous public will. 1160 "Culturallag" is considered by many pathologists to be the concept ~ith which many scattered problems may be detected and systematIZed. Whereas the approach by deviation from norms is oriented "ideolOgically" toward a rural type of order and stability, the cultural-Iag model IS taCItly oriented in a "utopian"61 and progressive manner toward changing some areas of the culture or certain institutions so as to "integrate" them with the state of progressive technology.62 We must analyze the use made by pathologists of "lag" rather than abstract formulations of it. 63 , E:ren thou~h all the situations called "lags" exist in the present, their £:mctional realities are referred back, away from the present. Evaluations are thus translated into a time sequence; culturallag is an assertion of unequal "progress." It tells us what changes are "called for," what changes 1I0ught" to have come about and didn't. In terms of various spheres of society it says what progress is, tells us how much we have had, ought to have had, didn't have, and when and where we didn't have it. The imputation of "lag" is complicated by the historical judgem:nt ID whos~ guise it is advanced and by the programmatic content bemg shoved mto pseudo-objective phrases, as, for example, "called for." It is not ~nough to recognize that the stating of problems in terms of culturallag mvolves evaluations, however disguised. One must find the general loci of this kind of evaluation and then explain why just this form of ~valuation has been so readily accepted and widely used by patholOgIsts. The model in which institutions lag behind technology and SCIence mvolves a positive evaluation of natural science and of orderly progressive change. Loosely, it derives from a liberal continuation of the enlightenment with its full rationalism, its messianic and now politic~~ naIve admiration of physical science as a kind of thinking and actiVIty, and with its concept of time as progress. This notion of progress was"carried into American colleges by the once prevalent Scot"":_1_ _ • ____ , 1 1 ..... _ ••• __ • ~
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91
or three decades of the tvventieth century the expanding business and middle classes were taking over instruments of production, political power, and social prestige; and many of the academic men of the generation were recruited from these rising strata and/or actively mingled with them. Notions of progress are congenial to those who are riSing in the scale of pOSition and income. Those sociologists who think in terms of this model have not typically focused upon the conditions and interest groups underlying variant "rates of change" in different spheres. One might say that in te!1l15 of the rates of change at which sectors of culture could move, it is technology that is "lagging," for the specific reason of the control of patents, etc., by intrenched interests. 6.j In contrast to the pathologists' use, Veblen's use of "lag, leak, and friction" is a structural analysis of industry versuS business enterprise. 65 He focused on where "the lag" seemed to pinch; he attempted to show how the trained incapacity of legitimate businessmen acting within entrepreneurial canons would result in a commercial sabotage of production and efficiency in order to augment profits within a system of price and ownership. He did not like this "unworkman-like result," and he detailed its mechanism. In the pathologists' usage the conception has lost this specific and structural anchorage: it has been generalized and applied to everything fragmentarily. This generalization occurs with the aid of such blanJ:;et terms as "adaptive culture" and "material culture. "66 There is no specific focus for a program of action embodied in the application of such terms. Another model in terms of which disorganizations are instituted is that of "social change" itself.67 This model is not handled in anyone typical way, but usually it carries the implicit assumption that human beings are "adjusted" satisfactorily to any social condition that has existed for a long time and that, when some aspect of social life changes, it may lead to a social problem. 68 The notion is oriented ideologically and yet participates in assumptions similar to those of culturallag, which, indeed, might be considered a variant of it. Such a scheme for problematization buttresses and is buttressed by the idea of continuous process, commented on above; but here the slow, "evolutionary" pace of change is taken explicitly as normal and orgaruzed,69 whereas lldiscontinuity" is taken as problematic'?o The orientation to "rural" types of organization should be recalled. In line with the stress on continuous process, the point where sanctioned order meets advisable change is not typically or structurally drawn.71 A conception of "balance" is usual and sometimes is explicitly sanctioned.72 The question, "Changes in what spheres induce disorganization?" is left open; the position taken is usually somewhere between extremes, both of which are held to be bad?J This comes
92
9. C. Wright Mills
Social Disorganization
radical might well call reorganization. Without a construction of total social structures that are actually emerging, one remains caught between simple evaluations. Besides deviation from norms, orientation to rural principles of stability, culturallag, and social change, another conception in terms of which "problems" are typically discussed is that of adaptation or "adjustment" and their opposites. 74 The pathological or disorganized is the maladjusted. This concept, as well as that of the "normal," is usually left empty of concrete, social content,75 or its content is, in effect, a propaganda for conformity to those norms and traits ideally associated with small-town, middle-class milieux,76 When it is an individual who is thought to be maladjusted, the "social type" within which he is maladjusted is not stated. Social and moral elements are masked by a quasi-biological meaning of the term "adaptation"77 with an entourage of apparently socially bare terms like "existence" and "survival," which seem still to draw prestige from the vogue of evolutionism.78 Both the quasi-biological and the structureless character of the concept "adjustment" tend, by formalization, to universalize the term, thus again obscuring specific social content. Use of "adjustment" accepts the goals and the means of smaller community milieux?9 At the most, writers using these terms suggest techniques or means believed to be less disruptive than others to attain the goals that are given. They do not typically consider whether or not certain groups or individuals caught in economically underprivileged situations can possibly obtain the current goals without drastic shifts in the basic institutions which channel and promote them. The idea of adjustment seems to be most directly applicable to a social scene in which, on the one hand, there is a society and, on the other, an individual immigrant. BO The immigrant then "ad_ justs" to the new environment. The "immigrant problem" was early in the pathologist's cent'er of focus, and the concepts used in stating it may have been carried over as the bases for a model of experience and formulations of other "problems." The Polish Peasant (1918L which has had a very strong influence on the books under consideration, was empirically focused upon an immigrant group. In approaching the notion of adjustment, one may analyze the specific illustrations of maladjustment that are given and from these instances infer a type of social person who in this literature is evaluated as "adjusted." The ideally adjusted man of the social pathologists is "socialized." This term seems to operate ethically as the opposite of "sel£ish",Bl it implies that the adjusted man conforms to middle-class morality and motives and "participates" in the gradual progress of respectable institutions. If he is not a "joiner," he certainly gets around
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·dual th:inl<s of others and is kindly toward them. He does not brood or
~ope about but is somewhat extrovert, eagerly partidp~ting in his community's institutions. His mother and father were not divorced, nor was his home ever broken. He is "successful"-at least in a modest waysince he is ambitious; but he does not speculate about matters too far above his means, lest he become "a fantasy thinker," and the little men don't scramble after tlle big money. The less abstract the traits and fulfilled "needs" of "the adjusted man" are, the more they gravitate toward the norms of independent middle-class persons verbally living 83 out Protestant ideals in the small towns of America.
NOTES 1.
No attempt has been made to trace specific concepts la their intellectual origins. Only elemenLs admitted into the more stable textbook formulations have come within my view: the aim is to grasp typical perspectives and key concepts. Hence, no one of the texts to be quo led exemplifies all the concepts analyzed; certain elements are not so visible in given texts as in others, and some elements are not evidenced in certain texts at all. In general, the documentary quotations which follow in footnotes are from the later editions of the following books: W. G. Beach and E. E. Walker, American Social Problems (1934); J. H. S. Bossard, (a) Social Change and Social Problems (1934), and (b) Problems of Social Well~Beillg (1927); c. H. Cooley, (a) The Social Process (1918), (b) Hllmall Nature and tlte Social Order (1902, 1922), (c) Social Organization (1909); Edward T. Devine, (a) The NOl71wl Life (1915, 1924), (b) Progressive Social Acl'ioll (1933); R. C. Dexter, Social Adjustment (1927); G. S. Dow, Society alld Its Proble1lls (1920, 1929); M. A. Elliott and F. E. Merrill, Social Disorga!lizatioll (1934, 1941); C. A. EUwood, (a) TIle Social Problem, a COllstrllctive Allalysis (1915, 1919); (b) Sociology lIud Modem Social Problellls (1910 ~35); H. P. Fairchild, Olltline of Applied Sociology (1916, 1921); M. P. FolleU, (a) TIle New State (1918), (b) Creative Experience (1924); James Ford, Social DeviatioH (1939); J. M. Gillette and J. M. Reinhardt, Current Social Problt:1!Is (1933, 1937); J. L. Gillin, (0) PovertYllnd Depewiellce (1921, 1926, 1937), (b) Social Pathology (1933,1939); J. L. Gillin, C. G. Dittmer, and R. J. Colbert, Social Problems (1928,1932); E. C. Hayes, editor's introductions to lext in lhe "Lippincott Series"; W. J. Hayes and L V. Shannon, Visllal OJ/tlille of illtrodllclory Sociology (1935); G. B. Mangold, Social Pat//Ology (1932, 1934); H. A. Miller, Races, Natiolls, alld Classes (1924); H. W. Odum, Mall's Quest for Social Guidance: Tile Study of Social Problems (1927); Maurice Parmelee, Poverty and Social Progress (1916); H. A. Phelps, Contemporary Social Problellls (1932,1933,1938); S. A. Queen and J. R. Gruener, Social PatllOlogy (1940); S. A. Queen, W. B. Bodenhafer, and E. B. Harper, Social Organization mId Disorganization (1935); C. M. Rosenquist, Social Problems (1940); U. G. l H __
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Social Disorganization
See Read Bain, "The Concept of Complexity," Social Forces, VIII, 222 and 369. K Mannheim has called Uus type "isolating empiricism" ("German Sociology," Politica, February, 1934, p. 30). H. P. Fairchild, p. vii: "Dealing with applied sociology [this book] devotes itself to facts rather than to theories." James H. S. Bassard (0), p. xi: "In[ProblcIIIS of Social Well-Bdllg] an effort was made to consider chiefly in a factual vein, certain elements which seemed of basic importance .. ,," G. B. Mangold, p. viii: "The author has tried to select that which [of factual material] best illustrates problems and practical situations." The quotations in the footnotes are merely indications of what is
usual. The imputations presented must be held against the reader's total experience with the literature under purview. In Germany the academic division of specialties prior to the rise of sociology channeled sociological work into a formal emphasis. In America a somewhat comparable situation led to a fragmentalization of empirical attention and especially to a channeling of work into "practical probleITlS." A. W. Small, American JOllrnal of Sociology, May, 1916, p. 785, citing an editorial in the Americ(J/! Jot/mal of Soci%glJr 1907. Such "homogeneity" is not, however, the only condition under which some common style of thought is taken on by a group of thinkers. Compare the formal conception of "points of coincidence" advanced by H. H. Gerth in Die Sozielgeschichtlicltc Lnge del' burgerlicltell IntdligCllz llllS die Wellde des 18 Jllltrflllllderts (diss., Frankfurt A.M.) (V.D.I.-Verlag, G.m.b.H. Berlin, N. W. 7). The entire question of the grounding of imputations in terms of social extraction and career-lines is an tmfinished set of methodological issues. In this paper the major imputations advanced do 110t proceed upon career data as much as upon the social orientation implied by general perspectives and specific concepts, and by the selection of "problems." Information concerning twenty-four of the thirty-two authors was full enough to be considered. Five of the eight not considered were jtmior authors collaborating with persons who are included. The order of their respective experience has not been systematically considered. All career data on contemporary persons should be held tentatively: open to revision by knowledge not now publicly available. See above. A W. Small, p. 754:" ... the mental experience of the teacherexplorer in the course of arriving at the present outlook of sociologists ... has also been due to the fact that many of the advances in perception or expression have been in the course of attempts to meet students' minds at their precise point of outlook." See C. Wright Mills, "Language, Logic, and Culture," American Sociological Review, October, 1939, for mechanisms involved in such de terminations of the thinker by his public. This statement, as is Widely recognized, holds in a measure for all American SOciology. Cf., e.g., Pitirim Sorokin, "Some Contrasts in Contempo.. -. .... t' .... ~~~ ____ .J,, _ _ ....:_~~(">~_'_l_
95
9. C. Wright Mills
It',...,
,
~~--
pp. 57 -58. "In America sociology has ~rown as ~ chil~ nursed by the universities and colleges .... American literature ill soclOlogy has been composed largely out of textbooks." 11. Cf. Hans Reichenbach, Experience a1ld Prediction, chap. 1. See P. Sorokin's comment, op. Cit., p. 59. 12. J. L. Gillin (a), p. v.: "My years of experience as a social worker and teacher have gone into the content and method of presentation." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 759. "In the preceding chapters, problems have been grouped on the basis of one underlying fact or condilion. Obvi~usly, this is an arbitrary procedure which can be justified only on the baSIS of pedagogical expedience"; p. xi: "The ... is the ~ethod followe~: ... B~ ...~ay of defense, this seems simpler and pedagogtcally preferable, p. Xli. The decision to omit them was made ... second, because in an increasing number of colleges and universities, these particular fields are dealt with in separate courses." 13. Ct. Fritz Mauthner, Aristotle, for the pedagogic character of the taxonomic logiC of Aristotle. H. P. Fairchild, pp. 6-7:" ... the essential f~atures of tlle scientific method ... are three in number. First, the accumulation of facts .... Second, the arrangement or classification of tllese facts according to some predetermined logical basis of classification .... " J. H. S. Bos~ard (a), p. 34: "It is the present contention that the scientific stud~ ~f 5~clal problems which confine;, itself to mere description and classifIcatIon serves a useful purpose. 14. M. A. Elliott, Americall Sociological Review, June 1941, p. 317: "The only problems which need concern the sociologists' theories and research are the real, practical problems of everyday living." Queen and Gruener, p .. 42: "[In contradistinction to scientific problems] social problems ... pertam directly to everyday life .... Their concern is usually 'practical,' and often personal." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 32: "Frankly, applied sOciol~?y!s utilitarian. It is concerned with practical problems and purposes. Gllletle and Reinhardt, p. 22: "The study of social problems constitutes the he~rt of sociology as a science .... Even so-called 'pure' sociology, or theoretical sociology, more and more devotes ilself to these practical problems of so~~.
.
On the other hand, such writers as Ellwood, rising to a very lugh level of abstraction, conceive formlllly of "the social problem." C. A. Ellwood (a), pp. 13 -14: "Some of us, at least, are beginning to perceive U1at the social problem is now, what it has been in all ages, namely, the ~r~b felll of tile relations of men to olle allOt/ICl'. It is the problem of l1U~an hv~g together, and cannot be confined to any statement in economIC, eugeruc or otller one~sided terms .. .it is as broad as humanity and human nature .... Such a statement [in terms of one sel of factors] obscures the real nature of the problem, and may lead to dangerous, one-sided attempts at its solution." In terms of social and intellectual orientation, both ways of conceiving of "social problems" are similar in that neither is of a so:t ~s able in collective action which proceeds against, rather U1an well wlthm,
96
15. 16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
9. C. Wright Mills
Social Disorganization
See H. D. Lasswell, Politics (1936), p. 148; K. Mannheim, op. Cif., pp. 30 -31; and Ideology and Utopia, pp. 228 -29. Gillin, Ditbner, and Colbert, p. 44: "There are hundreds of social problems, big and little," Queen and Gruener, p. 171: "We present here some of the problems of day by day living encountered by diabetics and cardiacs." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 33: "Certain particular social problems are coming to be reserved for applied sociology. Their selection has been determined less by logic or principle than by accident and historical development"; p. 44: "The more one deals with life's problems at first hand, the more one is impressed with their concreteness, their specificity, and their infinite variety" Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 14: "From almost any point of view there must be a large number of sodal problems today"; p. 15: "This book is a treatise on a large number of social problems. It does not claim to consider them all. It repeatedly recognizes the plurality of problems in its treatment of the great problems." C. M. Rosenquist, p. 19:" ... popular recognition of any sodal condition or process as bad, followed by any attempt to eliminate or cure it, serves as a criterion for its inclusion in a study of social problems. The writer merely accepts the judgment of public opinion. This is the method to be followed in this book." E. T. Devine (a), in Note to the Second Edition: "TIle object of Social Economy is that each shall be able to live as nearly as pOSSible a normal life according to the standard of the period and the community." C. M. Rosenquist, p. 19: "Perhaps we may be on solid ground through a recognition of the capitalist system and its accompaniments as normal. We may then deal with its several parts, treating as problems those which do not function smoothly. This, it seems, is what the more reputable sociologist actually does." H. P. Fairchild, p. 59:" ... some of the social conditions which are the natural and consistent outcome of an individualistic~capitalistic organization of industry, and hence are to be considered as normal in modern societies." Examination of discussions of such items as poverty in most of the texts confirms this assertion. J. L Gillin (a), p. 495: "For serious depressions carefully planned unemployment relief schemes should be formulated before lhe depression is felt." That is, an eclecticism that does not analyze in any adequate way the elements and theories which it seeks to combine. Ct. Reuter's critique, Americall foumal of Sociology, November 1940, pp. 293 -304. E. C. Hayes in the Introduction to H. A. Miller, p. x: "Not political action, the inadequacy of which Professor Eldridge (Political Actioll) has shown, nor revolution, the pathological character of which Professor Sorokin has demonstrated, but social interaction, the causal efficiency of human relationships, is the predominant factor in securing both order and progress." J. H. S. Bossard (a), pp. 14 -15: "The constructive approach ... may be sununarized in one sentence: It is always possible to do something. ... Such an approach represents in welfare work that hopelessly incurable
22.
23.
24.
25. 26.
27.
97
hardt, pp. 16 -17: "There are no certain rules to be followed step by step in the discovery of the solution. Our best recourse is to employ scientific methods rigidly at every step ... because of uncertain factors always present, we can never be sure that our conclusions are more than approximations of the truth .... Since we cannot completely control their activities ... our cures must be partial and approximate." One type of link behveen democratic ideology and social pathology is shown in the following quotation, wherein a condition that deviates from the former is called pathologicali the quotation also indicates a typical shying away from all orders of domination other tilan that type legitimated traditionally, which is left open: H. A. WIler, p. 32: "When certain ... psychopathological conditions are found, we may postulate an abnormal relationship as a cause ... tile particular fonn of pathology which is involved in our problem may be called the oppression psychosis. Oppression is the domination of one group by another." G. V. Price, reviewing Queen and Gruener, Social Forces, May 1941, p. 566: "Without using the work democracy in the doctrinal sense the authors have shown what its utilities are in reducing pathologies." M. A. Elliott and F. E. Merrill, p. 28: "The pathological phases of the PON litical process include such antiNsocial behavior as delinquency, crime, disorder, revolt, and revolution. Corrupt political activity is an important example of such malfunctiOning." Note the identification of "political action" with legislation: Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 94: "It is an American practice to attempt to solve any and every sort of social problem through political action. As a result, our statute-books are loaded Vlli.th 'deadNletter' laws that are not enforced simply because public opinion does not respect tilem, nor does it feel responsible for them." J. L. Gillin (a), p. 23: "Experience shows that rehabilitation is possible only when each case of poverty or dependency is taken separately and its difficulties handled with strict regard for all the attendant circumstances .... It must be done in terms of the individual. for. . .it cannot be done ell/J/asse." Richmond, p. 357; see also pp. 51 and 62. J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 3: "Social problems consist of (a) a social situation, (b) which are .... " Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 13: "Asocial problem is a sit N uation, confronting a group .... " 1. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 57: " ... the emphasis in our social thinking upon tile situation as a unit of experience, as 'an aggregate of interactive and interdependent factors of personality and circumstance,' is in essence a recognition of the idea of the emergent. ... Queen recognizes the implica N hODS of the siluational approach very clearly in these words: 'For pur~ poses of sociological analysis, a situation consists in relationships between persons viewed as a cross section of human experience, constantiy changing ... Thus we make of the concept "situation" an intellec N tual tool'" (5. Queen, "Some Problems of the Situational Approach,"
98
28. 29. 30.
See K Mannheirn, Mall alld Society, p. 305. Queen, Bodenhafer, and Harper, p. viii! Editor's Note by S. Eldridge: "The present volume .. .features the case approach to social problems." Not the lack of structure in the conception of "class": Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 177: "Viewing the matter historically, then, it appears that the chief cause of rigid class systems of society WiUl their attendant evils is the prolonged concentration of wealth in the hands of a relatively few
persons." See below, the concept of "adjustment." Gillin, Dittmer, and Calbect, p. 59: "The most fundamental cause of class and group conflict is the attitude of superiority on the part of one class, or group, toward another." 33. The Social Process, pp. 44 -45. 34. Elliott and Merrill, p. 38: "One of the most significant concepts in the understanding of social problems is the idea of multiple causation." 35. See above comments on political relevance. C. A Ellwood (b) p. 324: "We may, perhaps, sum up this chapter by saying that it is evident that the cure of poverty is not to be sought merely in certain economic rearrangements, but in scientific control of the whole life process of human society. This means that in order to get rid of poverty, the defects in education in government, in religion and morality, in philanthropy, and even in physical heredity, must be got rid of. Of course, this can only be done when there is a scientific understanding of the conditions necessary for normal human social life. " 36. J. L. Gillin (a), pp. 51-128: " .... the modern theory of the causes of poverty has passed beyond anyone-sided explanation to a many-sided theory." The following conditions of poverty and dependence are discussed: poor natural resources, adverse climate, adverse weather, insect pests, disasters, illness and diseases, physical inheritance, mental inheritance, adverse surroundings of children, death or disability of the earner, unemployment, lack of proper wages, traditions, customs, habits, advertising and instalment buying, fluctuations between costs of living and income, inequitable distribution of wealth and income, family marital relations, political conditions, unwise philanthropy, etc. After these discussions/family cases are presented as " .... studies in causation." 37. Whereas many socialist theories have tended to overlook the elastic elements that do exist in a society. Cf. K. Mannheim, Politica, pp. 25-26. 38. C. H. Cooley (a), p. 46. 39. See Max Lerner, It Is Later thart You Thillk, pp. 14-15; and Encyclopaedia of tfJe Social Sciences, article "Social Process." See documentation and consequences below. 40. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 11: "All this group life is nicely woven into a system that we call society .... " 41. Ibid., p. 15: "But the aim of society is ever directed to the task of bringing uniform advantages to all." C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 195: "Social organization may refer to any condition or relation of the elements of a social 31. 32.
9. C. Wright Mills
Social Disorganization
42. 43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
99
between the individuals or the parts of a society. The problem of social order is then the problem of hannonious adaptation ~ong the individuals of the group .... " It is significant that it was Sumner, with his tacit belief in "natural" order, who set forth the phrase and what it implies. Glllm, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 13: "Since a community is made up of a number of neighborhoods, it is necessary Ulat all cooperate in order to secure better schools, improved ... " J. L. Gillin (a), p. 133: "Only as a passion for social righteousness takes Ule place of an imperative desire for selfish advantage .... willsociety do away with the conditions that now depress some classes of Ule population and exhalt others." C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 84: " .... increasing altruism is necessary for the success of those more and more complex fonns of cooperation which characterize higher civilization and upon which it depends." G. B. Mangold, p. 17: "Without the spirit of altruism society would be but a sorry exhibition of the collective hwnanity that we believe has been made in the image of God." Conversely, the "anti-social" is held to include certain abslract, moral traits of individuals. Elliott and Merrill, p. 43: "An analysis of the disorganization process suggests hvo types of anti-social forces: (1) Ule consciously directed anti-social forces and (2) the impersonal organic forces which are an outgrowth of the formalism discussed above .... to advance their own selfish ends. These men are thoroughly aware of their anti-social attitudes. Social values have no meaning for them ..... There has often been no SOcializing influence in the lives of those men ..... Cooperation, or 'mutual aid,' Ule implicit counterpart of effective social organization ..... Vice areas .... function because of human appetites, because individual desires are more deeply rooted than any sense of the social implications ..... The proslilule exists only because she is a means to man's sensual pleasure and satiely"; p. 44: "Sin, vice, crinle, corruption, all conSCiously directed anti-social forces, offer a primrose .... " G. B. Mangold, p. 59: "Unsocial habits lead to poverty; particularly do they degrade poverty into dependency. Chief among these vices is intemperance. Before the advent of prohibition it was .... " Queen, 80denhafer, and Harper, p. 4: "When Ulere is .... characterized by harmony, teamwork, understanding, approval, and the like, we may speak of organization. When the opposite is true and there is a .... marked by tension, conflict, or drifting apart, we may speak of disorganization." Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 5: '''The word [social] means conducive to the collective welfare, and thus becomes nearly eqUivalent to moral' [Cooley, Human Nature ilml the Social Order, p. 4] .... it is this .... meaning Ulat comes closest to our interpretation ... -'conducive lo the collective welfare'-relationships, and products of relationships that are believed to foster and promote gro1lP life, and to insure group SIlI-vival." ]. L. Gillin (b), p. 313: " .... personal relationships .... a.re Ule most important ties in the social organization .... " C. A. Ellwood (lJ), pp. 3-4: "The ten-
100
Social Disorganiza tion
for the understanding of our social life, of 'primary' or face-ta-face groups"; p. 77: "Primary groups .... are of most interest sociologically, because they exhibit social life at its maximum intensity, and because they are the bearers of the most vital elements in social life, especially the traditions of civilization"; pp. 79-80: "The chief importance of primary groups in our social life, however, is that they .... furrush the 'patterns' which we attempt to realize in our social life in general"; pp. 84-85: "All l11.unan history has, from one point of view, been a struggle to transfer altruism and solidarity of the family to successively larger and larger groups of men"; pp. 90-91: "Primary, or face-ta-face groups are the key to the understanding of our social life ..... " Gillin, Dittmer, Colbert, p. 282: " .... the home is probably our most fundamental social institution .... "; p. 285: ''Anything that endangers the stability of the family endangers society."]' H. S. Bossard (a), p. 555: "Family life is the focal point of virtually all of our social problems." 48. C. A. Ellwood (b), pp. 79-80: "The very ideal of social sOlidarity itself comes from the unity experienced in such [primary] groups." Elliott and Merrill, p. 581: "An ever-increasing number of persons living in the giant cities has become completely deracinated, cut off from all stable primary ties. They have lost not only their physical home, but often their spiritual home as well. Social disorganization breeds in these unattached masses of the urban proletariat. They furnish willing nuclei for robbery, brigandage, and revolution." 49. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 411: "In the city we have a greater degree of disorganization in the sense in which we use that term"; p. 410: " .... in the Simple and well-organized ties of country life .... "; p. 409: "Recreation in the country is largely homemade ..... In the city it is professionaL ... The patterns of behavior .... are here again disorganized and new patterns have to be found." Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 116: "Cities exhibit all the social problems, save those peculiar to agricultural extractive pursuits." H. P. Fairchild, p. 304: "Since tilere are no lIatural facilities available to the majority of dellizells of cities for the gratification of the desire for dancing, it ineVitably follows that provision is made on a commercial basis" (my italics). C. M. Rosenquist, p. 47: "The controls which were effective in the small,settled fann community no longer suffice in .... the city. To this fact may be traced many of the conditions we speak of as social problems ..... " W. G. Beach and E. E. Walker, pp. 102-3: " ... men find their life interests and values in group membership and participation. The most influential groups are tilose which provide intimate, face-ta-face relationships, as the family, the playground, the club, the neighborhood, and the small community ..... Any wholesome and satisfying life must proVide for a continuation of such small groups and institutional forms ...... One of the most elusive and challenging problems arising from the growth of cities is that of preventing the complete disorganization of essential social groups. In the rural community ..... " J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 113: "The marked trend of population to the city and the rapid rise of large urban
9. C. Wright Mills
50.
51.
52.
53.
54. 55.
101
centers, together with their reflex upon the rural regions, constitute the basis of virtually every problem to be discussed in this volume." This is what Waller does lIot do in his provocative discussion of "humanitarian" and "organizing mores" ("Social Problems and the Mores," Amcriclll! Sociological Re-view, December, 1936, pp. 922-33). J. L. Gillin (b), p. 407: The home "developing as ....mral" is considered "disorganized" in the city: p. 409: "[In the city] it is only the rebel, unable and unwilling to adjust himself to machine and organization, who retains personal independence ..... The farmer, conscious that he lives by his nwn thinking .... responds to his environment with a feeling of independence-a normal response. The city worker has no keen perception of his dependence upon nature." Elliott and Merrill, p. 32: "However different their approach, the basic dilemma of civilization is the fundamenH tal disparity of values and standards of universally accepted definitions of the situation." C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 281: "The reflex of the city problem is the rural problem." J. L. Gillin (b), p. 429: "[Urbanization] which has modified the solidarity of the rural family ..... " W. J. Hayes and 1. V. Shannon, p. 22: "Contacts .... emancipate individuals from control of primary groups .... tilis leads to setting up personal norms of behavior instead of confonning to group standards." (Implies no conception of llrball types of norms.) The intellectual consequences of the rural to urban drift are much wider than the perspectives noted in the literature of pathology. In more general American sociology the writings of a man like E. A. Ross are to be understood in terms of a reaction of those oriented to a fanner's democracy against the growth of big business, in its control of railroads, etc. Another division of American sociology in which America's rural past is intellectllally evident is "rural sociology" itself. This field shows the positive side of the matter, for here the yearning for the values associated with rural simplicity and neighborliness is even more noticeable. In this literature a primary, rural heritage is taken as the source of "stability" and is conceived as the reservoir of "values." Such straddling concepts as "urban" function to limit recognition of the urban character of dominant contemporary social structures. In a historical sense we need not argue with these emphases: the underlying form of American democracy and religion, e.g., has drawn much from the dominance of a rural society. And a rapid urbanization may well be only a veneer upon masses of rurally oriented personalities. But the kind of structural stability in America which grew from rural patterns is historical. In the world today the kind of stability that can-indeed, in part has-emerged from the hunger for those primary contacts historically associated with ties of blood and closeness to soil is a streamlined variety. Social Organizatiol!, chap. v. G. H. Mead, "Cooley's Contribution to American Social Thought," AmerH icall jOllmnf of Sociology, XXXV, 701: "Cooley was Ernersonian in finding
102
9. C. Wright Mills
Social Disorganiza tion
the individual self in an over soul." Cf. G. W. F. Begel, Lectures of the Philosophy DJ History (London: Geo. Bell & Sons, 1884), especially pp. 39--44. 56.
Note the common association of urban "impersonality" and "formalism" with "disorganization." Elliott and Merrill, p. 16: " ... ,Jack of harmony be~veen the various units of the social order is in a sense exemplified by the unpersonal nature of the social organization and the consequent process of sociaJ disorganization .... [C£. C. H. Cooley, Social Process, pp. 3-29}"; p. 574: "There is a very close relationship belween formalism and disorganization, although at first glance the two states appear to be opposite poles in the social process. They are in reality sequential steps in the same great movement of disorganization, which grows out of formalism ..... " 57. Beyond COllsciellce, p. 111. 58. C. A EUwood (b), p. 12: 'j\]1 forms of association are of interest to the sociologist, though not' all are of equal importance. The natural, genetic sodal groups, which we may caU 'communities: serve best to exhibit sociological problems. Through the study of such simple and primary groups as the family and the neighborhood group, for example, the problems of sociology can be much better attacked than through the study of society at large or association in general"; pp. 76-77: " .... nahrral groupings, such as the family, the neighborhood, the city, the state or province, and the nation. They may be, and usually are, called COI1lJllllllities, since they are composed of individuals who carry on all phases of a common life. Voluntary, purposive associations always exist within some community, whether large or small. Groups which we call 'communities' are, therefore, more embracing, more stable, less artificial and speCialized than purely voluntary groups. For this reason communities are of more interest to the sociologist than specialized voluntary groups, and sociology is in a peculiar sense a study of the problems of community life." J. H. S. Bossard (a), pp. 49-50: "Acceptance of the community as a definite unit ~ social work and in social theory has become general during the past fifteen years. American participation in the World War was an important factor in bringing this about, first because the community constituted the basic expression of that democratic spirit which the war engendered, and second, the cormmmity was seized upon by the various war-time activities and drives as the most effective unit for the mobilization of the spirit and resources of the nation." 59. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p.15: " ....social work, which means, scientifically developing and adjusting human relations in a way that will secure normal life to individuals and communities and encourage individual and community progress"; p. 47: " ... .it is important to keep in mind that the central problem is that of adjusting our social life and our social institu?ons, so that, as individuals and as communities, we may use and enJoy the largest measure of civilization possible, and promote further progress." M. P. Pollett (a), Part ill, has suggested that neighborhood groups be organized into political units. This would pennit the expression of daily life and bring to the surface live needs that they may become the substance of politics. The neighborhood as a political unit
60.
61. 62.
63. 64. 65.
66.
67.
68. 69.
70.
103
would make possible friendly acquaintance; it would socialize people and would make for "the realization of oneness." J. L. Gillin (b), p. 97: "The 'liquor problem' is as acute in the United States today as it ever was in the past, perhaps even more so"; p. 101: "The solution must spring from an aroused and unanimous public will." CL K Mannheim, IdeologJj and Utopia, for definitions of these terms. However, "lag" and "norms" are not unrelated: Queen, Bodenhafer, and Harper, p. 437: "Much of the discussion of cultural lags in the family assumes some kind of normal pattern which is commonly believed to have permanent validity because of the functions perfonned." See examples given in J. W. Woodard's "Critical Notes on the Cultural Lag Concept," Social Forces, March 1934, p. 388. See, e.g., B. J. Stem's article in Annals of the AmericlllI Academy of Political and Social Science, November 1938. The Engilleers a1ld the Price System; The Theonj of Business Enterprise. ]. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 5: " .... as Ogbum put it [Wo F. Ogbum, Social Chmlge (1922)1 to the extent that the adaptive culture has not kept pace with the material culture, the amoU!'\t of social ill-being has increased relatively." J. L. Gillin (b, p. 416: "Social disorganization is a function of rapidly changing conditions in people's lives." W.]. Hayes and I. V. Shannon, p. 20: "Social disorganization is an abrupt break in the existing social arrangements or a serious alteration in the routine of group life causing maladjustment." H. W. Odum, p. 100: " ... .if one reviews the general categories of social problems already listed in previous chapters, it must be clear that most of them or their present manifestations are due to or accenhlated by the process of social change." The point is made and acutely discussed by Rosenquist, pp. 8-10. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 48: "Social life and its products require long periods of time to develop and ripen ..... " Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 13: "The larger proportion of social changes are small and simpJe, and resemble osmosis in the field of physics and organic life." This gradualism is related to the orientation to primary group relations and experiences and hence to the "sharing" conception of the social E.g., Elliott and Merrill, p. 11: ''l\ssimilation, on the other hand, is gradual and depends upon some degree of contact and communication, if there is to be any vital sharing of common experience (Cf. M. P. Follett, Creative E:r:perieTlce) ..... " Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 30: " .... the need for thought about discontinuity in industry or education and about our dependence on proper training to keep society stabilized and progressive should be emphasized"; p. 21: "The habitual, daily, routine, conventional activities of life forhmately make up the greater part of life, most of the time. Often, however, they are broken across by social breakdowns, disturbances, and dislocations and the appearance of troublesome classes of persons." C. A. Ellwood (a), p. 230; " ....revolulion is not a llonnal method of social change; ... .it marks the breakdown of the normal means of social development; ... .it is not inevitable, but may easily be avoided by plasticity in social institutin"c ",..,.-1
:~
..1... ____ ...
1
• •
104
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
Social Disorganization
The notion of temporal contingency, at times extended to the point of
historical irrationality, plays into the processual, nonstructural characteristics of the perspective; notice also its commensurability with the apolitical and one-thing-at-a-time reformism. Elliott and Merrill, p. 3: "Life is dynamic. Life is ceaseless, bewildering change, and man, armed though he is with the experience of the past, can never be certain of the future. He must recognize that the immediate present is a constantly changing frame of reference and that future problems are a matter of chance for which the past offers no sure panacea." E. C. Hayes' Editor's Introduction to U. G. Weatherly, p. xii: "Realization that progressive change is not likely to be less in the generation next to come .... and determination .... to promote progress, is the nonnal attitude for every person who is animated by generous loyalty and ..... " Weatherly, p. 138: "Both innovation and conservatism have their value, and the balance between them, which is an ideal attitude .... "; p. 380: "DiScipline and liberation are not hvo antagonistic processes; they are complementary parts of the same process, which is social equilibration. They illustrate the law of physics .... stability is reached only by a balance of forces. " C. A. Ellwood (a), p. vii: "The aim of the book is to indicate the direction which our social thinking must take if we are to avoid revolution, on the one hand, and reactions, on the other." H. P. Fairchild, p. 35: .it can be safely said that maladjustments are among the most numerous and important of all forms of abnormality, frequently being so extensive as to include entire social groups or classes." Gillin, Ditbner, and Colbert, p. 530: '~social problems grow out of tlte social problem-the problem of the adjustment of man to his universe, and of the social universe to man. The maladjustments in these relationships give us all our social problems ..... " H. P. Fairchild, p. 16: "While the word 'nonual' carries a fairly definite and, for the most part, accurate implication to the mind of any intelligent person, it is nevertheless extremely difficult to define in concrete terms ..... AB commonly used to convey a definite idea, the word 'nonna!' means that which is in hannony with the general make-up and organization of the object under discussion-that which is consistent with other normal factors." Elliott and Merrill, p. 17, correctly assert that in "Edward T. Devine's discussion of 'the nonnallife' the norm is the healthy and uneventful life cycle of the average middle-class man or woman. lllese persons are never subjected to the temptations of great wealth. Neither do they come in contact with poverty, crime, vice, and other unpleasantly sordid aspects of life. [The Normal Life, pp. 5-8.] His discussion is thus a consideration of the 'nonnal standards' for the several ages of the bourgeoisie ..... " When it is 50 hidden; but note the heavily sentimental endowment the tenn may receive: R. C. Dexter, p. 408: " ... .few of the present generation of little ones, and fewer still of tile next, will never see the sun or the green grass because of the sins of their parents or the carelessness of their ohvsician: and thanks tn our inrrpi'!;;inp' nrnvi~inn fnr ITPP nl1hBr prh.r,,_ tJ •• •
9. C. Wright Mills
105
tion, more and mare adapted to the needs of the individual child, thousands of boys and girls will become intelligent, responsible citizens, WortilY of a free nation, instead of pawns for unscrupulous politicians. All this and much more is due to social adjustments, made by the unceasing effort and sacrifice of men and women who ..... " 78. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 4: "Social pathology .. .is the study of the social patterns and processes involved in man's failure to adjust himseU and his institutions to the necessities of existence to the end that he may survive and satisfy the felt needs of his nature." 79. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 8: 'AA individual who does not approximate these [socially approved] standards is said to be lmadjllsted. If he does not concern himself with living up to them, he is said to be demoralized or disorganized." R. C. Dexter, p. 407: "In this book the tenn Social Adjustment has been .... used as applying to .... the necessary task of smoothing-off the rough edges and softening the sledge-hammer blows of an indifferent social system. The tenn ....is practically synonymous with social adaptation-the fitting of man to his complete environment, physical and social alike. Until the present it has been the especially maladjusted individual or group who has received the service of 'straighteners.'" (Note ideological orientation of concept.) 80. H. P. Fairchild, p. 34: "The other fonn of incompetence, which may be called 'maladjustment: does not imply any lack on the part of the individual himself..... The man is all right, but he is not in the right place. Our immigrants furnish abundant examples of this form of incompetence ..... But the foreigner is not by any means the sole example of maladjustment. Our modem life, particularly our modem city life, teems with cases of this sort." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 110 (under "The Immigrant's Problem of Adjustment"): "To most persons, life consists in large measure of habitual responses to the demands of a fairly fixed environment. When man changes his environment, new and perhaps untried responses are called for. New adjustments must be made, as we say." J. L. Gillin (b), p. 10: "Social pathology .... arises out of the maladjustment between the individual and the social struchlre." Elliott and Merrill, p. 22: "Just as an effective social organization implies a harmony between individual and social interests, so a disorganized social order must involve a conflict between individual and social points of view." 81. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, pp. 16-17: "By socializntioll we mean the directing of human motives toward giving to 'even the least' of the members of the social whole the benefits of cultural development. socialization is thus practically the opposite to aloofness, selfishness, greed, exploitatioll, and profiteerillg. It causes the individual and the group to fcel their olleness with the social whole ..... In brief, what society regards as lIIoral, i.e., good for the whole, becomes the aim of socialized individuals and groups. This being true, the improvement of society rests to it very large extent upon moml progress." 82. See Queen and Gruener, Social Pat!lOlogt;: Obstacles to Social Participation. T},,,,,,,,,
".,~h .... r" ,At .... ,'1rl
rlP"" fhl" rr> .... rl'" nf "t"t<:>rr>","t h •• t ,,,.,..,h "",,.1... ,, 1 rl",_
106
Social Disorganization
nials must be tested against what they have done and the framework they have actually employed in defining pathologies. Their criterion of
83.
the pathological is correctly indicated in the subtitle of their book. Elliott and Merrill, p. 580: "There are various criteria by which the degree of individual participation may be measured roughly .... whether or not he votes at elections .... the individual's ownership of real or personal property .... the degree of specific interest in conununity activities may be roughly measured by the number and character of the institutions to which the individual belongs, as well as the voluntary community activities in which he participates. Communities in which there is a high percentage of individuals with a positive rating on the items listed above are logically those which are the most highly organized and efficient:' (Note the character of the institutions, participation in which is defined as organized.) See above documentation; notice the Protestant ethical accent on ufilihj and what it will do for one, apparently irrespective of social fact: Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 106: "People who are useful, no matter what happens to be their race or calor, come to be liked and respected. Consequently, the central aim of a sound educational program should be to teach people to be useful. (Hart, Homell, The Science of Social Relations, 1927, pp. 521-524.)" In the follOWing, note tlle norm of competitiveness: Elliott and Merrill, pp. 29-30: "Often, however, the individual cannot or will not compete. We then have the following pathological manifestations: ' .... the depelldent .... who is unable to compete; the defective .... who is, if not lUlable, at least handicapped in his efforts to compete. The criminal, on the other hand, ....who is perhaps lUlable, but at any rate refuses, to compete according to the rules which society lays down: (Park and Burgess, IlItroduction to the Sciellce of Sociology, p. 560.)" Among the traits thought to characterize lithe good life from the standpoint of the individual," Odum, pp. 50-51, cites: "patience," "specialized knowledge of some particular thing," "slull," "optimism," "love of work," "dynamic personality," "moderation," "trained will power," etc. Cf., in this connection, K. Davis, "Mental Hygiene and the Class Structure," Psychiatnj: [oul'llnl of the Biology and PatllOlogy of Interpersonal Relntions, February 1938, pp. 55~65.
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
107
Contemporary Application 10 Community Structure and Drug Use: From a Social Disorganization Perspective FINN-AAGE ESBENSEN and DAVID HUIZINGA Public opinion polls reveal that the American population is now at least as much concerned about the" drug epidemic" as about crime (Kraska 1990). Despite this concern, knowledge of the causes and correlates of drua use is still lacking. Although the prevalence and the frequency of dru~ use have been monitored (e.g., Baclunan, Johnston, and O'Nlalley 1986: Elliott, Huizinga, and Ageton 1985; Kandel 1980) and U,e relationship between delinquency and drug use has been investigated (Clayton 1981; Elliott et al. 1985; Goldstein 1985; Huizinga, Menard, and Elliott 1989; Inciardi 1981; Jessor and Jessor 1977; Johnson and Wish 1986), little research has examined the influence of macro-level variables on drug use. Existing research has focused almost exclusively upon micro-level variables such as family variables (e.g., Brook, Lukoff, and Whiteman 1977, 1980), peef factors (e.g., Elliott et a1. 1985; Huba, Winsard, and Bentler 1979; Jessor and Jessor 1977; Kande11973, 1974, 1978a, 1978b, 1978c, 1980, 1982; Kaplan 1985), and social psychological variables such as self-derogation (Kaplan, Marlin and Robbins 1982), self-esteem (Dinitz and Pfau-Vincent 1982), and attitudes toward deviance
(Elliott, Huizinga, and Menard 1989). The social disorganization perspective recently has received considerable attention from delinquency researchers (e.g., Bursile] 986; Bur-
Reprinted from Finn-Aage Esbensen and O;wid Huizinga, "Community Structure and Dmg Use: From a Social Disorganization Perspective," by permission of the authors and the Academy of Crimil1<1l justice Sciences. Copyright ID 1990 by Academy of Criminal Justice Sciences. An e
108
Social Disorganizalion
sik and Webb 1982; Fagan, Piper and Moore 1986: Heitgard and Bursik 1987; Johnstone 1978, 1983; Laub 1983; Sampson 1985; Sampson and Groves 1989; Schuerman and Kobrin 1986; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz 1986; Stark 1987; Taylor and Covington 1988). To our knowledge, however, no attempt has been made to study drug use from this macro-level approach. In this paper we examine the extent to which communitylevel explanations can be applied not only to drug use, but also to rnro characteristics of the drug-using situation-reasons for use and location of use. Much of the criminological research and theory development of the twentieth century has focused upon individual levels of explanation. Even the Durkheimian concept of anomie has been individualized by survey researchers (see, for example, the discussion by Famworth and Leiber 1989). The sodal ecology tradition of the Chicago School and particularly of Shaw and McKay has persisted since its introduction, however, and has experienced a resurgence in prominence in the recent past (e.g., Bursik 1986, Heitgard and Bursik 1987; Sarnpson 1987; Sarnpson and Groves 1989; Stark 1987; Taylor and Covington 1988). The early work of Shaw and McKay (1942), as well as replications conducted during the 1950s and 1960s (Bordua 1958-59; Chilton 1964; Lander 1954; Quinney 1964), relied upon census data to measure neighborhood characteristics and upon official measures of crime and delinquency (i.e., police records) to indicate illegal activity. In his review of ecological studies, Baldwin (1979) cited the use of official statistics as a serious weakness, noting that these data have been criticized for a variety of reasons.1 In more recent works, however, both self-report and victimization data have been used to measure crime (e.g., Fagan et al. 1986; Johnstone 1978, 1983; Kapsis 1978; Sarnpson 1985). Baldwin raised another methodological concern: that the social ecology approach assumed erroneously that social areas are homogeneous. In an early critique of Shaw and McKay's work, Jonassen (1949) had identified this assumption as a fallacy, claiming that not all people residing in the same neighborhood have similar life experiences and that intra-area differences might exist. Both of these authors suggest that differences exist between individuals within these areas and that certain subgroups may respond differently to environmental conditions. As Jonassen (1949:613) points out, for example, Shaw and McKay acknowledged that Orientals had preserved the old world cultures and institutions to such an extent that control of the child was sufficiently effective to keep delinquency and other forms of deviant behavior at a minimum. Thus the macro-level aspect of social disorganization theory cannot explain all variation in individual behavior; in fact, it was never intended to nn so_ RRthpr. thp npr<::nprHup <::l1o-o-P<;t<; th<>t TlP;rrhhr"·hr",,,-l
109
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
characteristics influence persons (or some significant segment of residents) living in the neighborhood to a sufficient extent that a global characterization of their behavior reflects that influence. Related to the homogeneity of socially disorganized areas is the issue of the distribution of neighborhood characteristics across areas identified as socially disorganized. This issue may well be associated with the fact that no precise definition of social disorganization exists. Kornhauser (1978:120) defined social disorganization as the inability of a community structure to realize the common values of its residents and to maintain effective social controls. In practice, however, many factors may influence social control. Social disorganization traditionally has been defined in terms of the census variables selected by a researcher; and once they have been selected, it is often assumed that these community descriptors are distributed uniformly among the various "socially disorganized" areas. Social ecology studies, market segmentation studies, and some delinquency research (e.g., Cartwright and Howard 1966; Tryon 1955; Tryon and Bailey 1970), however, have shown that this is not usually the case and that communities or neighborhoods may be characterized by specific subsets of variables. Schuerman and Kobrin (1986) found, for example, that neighborhoods could be differentiated on four different dimensions-land use, demographic characteristics, socioeconomic characteristics, and subcultural variables-and that crime rates varied according to the dominant structural characteristic of the community. To date, however, the majority of criminology researchers testing social disorganization theory have treated the concept as a homogeneous variable defined by some combination of census variables. Regardless of the operational definition employed, prior studies have corroborated Shaw and McKay's findings that a positive relationship exists between levels of social disorganization and official crime rates (e.g., Fagan et a1. 1986; Heitgard and Bursik 1987; Johnstone 1978; Laub 1983; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz 1986). Another concern raised recently is that most of the previous researdl using the macro-level social disorganization perspective has omitted an important component of the Shaw and McKay model-the role of factors mediating between social disorganization and behavior. In their recent publication, Sampson and Groves highlight this problem; they write that "the crux of the problem is that previous macro-level research in crime and delinquency has relied primarily on census data that rarely provide measures for the variables hypothesized to mediate the relationship betvveen community structure and crime" (1989:775). Two notable exceptions to this tendency are studies reported by Johnstone 110Q':I\ ~~...1 hT' C;~~I~~ C~~~" """...1 C~h ...... ~l ...,. 11 OQt::\
1"1~ ...... j . " .... , ,
,. ........
1... ; ........ ...1
110
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
Social Disorganization
~lements of Hirschi's social control theory with the social disorganization approach while examining gang recruitment. He found that "the opportunity to gang is established by the external social environment, but the decision to do so is governed by social and institutional attachments and by definitions of self" (1983:296). Similarly, Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz (1986) report on the importance of examining individuallevel variables as well as community contextual factors. TIus discussion raises important questions for the study of community-level characteristics and drug use. First and foremost is the need to address the criticism that socially disorganized neighborhoods are not homogeneous. Although previous researchers used factor analytic t~chniques to identify the underlying dimensions of social disorganizatIOn (e.g., poverty, mobility, density), they treated socially disorganized areas as if they uniformly possessed the identified characteristics. In fact, however, these areas may have quite different values on the descriptive variables used to determine social disorganization. Our research follows the procedures of social area analysis, employing cluster or profile analysis to determine whether these qualities are distributed differentially among neighborhoods. . A second issue is whether drug use is affected by community factors ID the same manner as delinquency and crime appear to be influenced. In view of the widely documented relationship between delinquency and drug use, it would not be surprising to find a relationship between macrolevel variables and rates of drug use. Elliott et al., for example, report that "prior delinquency and involvement in delinquent peer groups are the ~ain factors directly influencing both delinquency and drug use, and that ID many cases the hvo predictor variables provide a reasonably good estimation of the level of involvement in delinquency and drug use" (1985:118). Numerous other studies have documented similar etiological paths for delinquency and drug use (e.g., Donovan and Jessor 1984; Hindelang and Weis 1972; Huizinga et al. 1989; Jessor, Graves, Hanson, and Jessor 1968; Kande11978a, 1980; White, Pandina, and La Grange 1987). Of particular interest, however, is whether differences in drug use exist between different types of socially disorganized areas, and if so, what characteristics are associated with high and low rates of use. A third issue is whether mediating factors that help to explain drug u~e can be idenlified. We will attempt to do this by incorporating interVlew data into the analysis. Specifically, as part of a larger focus on drug use Situations, questions about the reasons for use and the location of use were asked. In this research note, answers to those questions are used as preliminary indicators of whether different learning patterns and different opportunities for use exist in different contextual areas. We oo.<;tul<;:l-innc tot"" ...",fl",,-.f- 1 \ <'I-.-. ,,.,h,~~l
111
conditions in neighborhoods tllat affect where youths congregate and engage in drug use and 2) different learning environments that reflect neighborhood values associated with drug use. The question about where drug-using behaviors occurred was asked, in part, to determine whether differential definitions regarding the appropriateness of deviant behavior in a variety of settings helped to explain rates of drug use. Do adolescents in different neighborhoods define different places, such as home, school, parks, or other phYSical 10cations, as drug-USing environments? Learning theorists such as Sutllerland and Akers would hypothesize that if this were the case, differences in drug use might occur. Similarly, learning theorists also would postulate that motivations for and definitions favoring involvement in deviant behavior are learned in interaction with significant otllers. Findings from the National Youth Survey, for instance, highlight the importance of the peer group in the initiation of both delinquency and drug use (Elliott et a1. 1985). In Sutherland's presentation of differential association theory, Proposition 4 specifies that criminal behavior is learned: "The learning includes (a) techniques of committing the crime ... ; and (b) the specific direction of motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes" (Sutllerland and Cressey 1970:76). Likewise, in Akers's reformulation of differential association theory, Proposition 6 states: "The probability that a person will commit deviant behavior is increased in the presence of normative statements, definitions, and verbalizations which, in this process of differential reinforcement of such behavior over conforming behavior, have acquired discriminative value" (1985:41). In this vein, adolescents will learn, depending on social environmental stimuli, to apply culturally approved definitions as rationalizations for their involvement in drug-using behavior-that is, in their "reasons for use." Different types of community structures may foster different interactional patterns and the subsequent creation of different learning environments.
METHODS The research reported here is part of a longitudinal study investigating the caUSes and correlates of delinquency and drug use in a "high-risk" sample. 2 Census data were used to identify "high-risk" neighborhoods in a large midwestern city. From these neighborhoods a probability sample of households was selected and interviews were conducted with 1,530 youths between the ages of 7 and 15 and with one of each youth's parents. The data used here are self-reported measures of dlug use ob~;linprl
frnlTl thp V(lllth<:: rhlrino-;m hmlr-lnno- intprlf;p""
112
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
Social Disorganiza tion
StrUctUIe, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, housing, rnobilitYt marital status,
SAMPLE AND ECOLOGICAL AREAS
Because of the design of the larger study and the need to ensure sufficient numbers of serious or chronic juvenile offenders, "high-risk" neighborhoods were identified from which to select prospective respondents. High-risk neighborhoods were defined as areas characterized by both "social disorganization" and a high official crime rate. That is, we defined high risk not only in accordance with the consistent findings of the social disorganization literature, which reveal higher rates of involvement in delinquent activities in neighborhoods characterized by "social disorganization," but also according to the crime rates. On the basis of the results of earlier studies, we selected 35 variables from the 1980 census data representing seven conceptual areas: family
and age composition. A factor analysis (principal components with variwax rotation) of variables within each of these seven conceptual domains resulted in the identification of 11 distinct factors (eigenvalues greater than 1.0 and skree criteria were used in determining the number of factors). Table 10.1 reports the factor loadings and the variance explained by th~ fact~r~ within each domain. Four of the theoretically derived concepts IdentifIed above produced two distinct factors. The socioeconomic doma~, for exam.ple, resulted in the identification of an upper-SES factor (e.g., high education, household income over $40,000, and professional and managerial occupations) and a lower-SES factor (e.g., families in poverty, incomes under $10,000, and laborer occupations).
TABLE 10.1 TABLE 10.1
CONTINUED
NEIGHBORHOOD CONCEPTUAL FACTOR ANALYSIS
1. FAMILY STRUCTURE: 4 VARIABLES = 2 FACTORS Factor #1: Family Household Factor 1 Nonfamily household -.80 Married couple vvith children .79 Households without own children .66 CONCEPT
Factor #2: Single-Parent Household Single-parent families CONCEPT Il. ETHNICITI (RACIAL MIX)
.20
= 2 FACTORS
Factor #3: Ethnic Diversity Racial diversity Percent Hispanic Percent other. Factor #4: Predominantly Black Percent black Percent white CONCEPT Ill. SOCIQ[;CONOMIC! 11 VAlUABLES
Factor #5: High SES Median education Higher education Median household income Professional and managerial House value Households over $40,000 Factor #6: Low SES Service and laborer Households under $10,000 Families in poverty
113
71.4% OF VARIANCE
Factor 2 -.15 .19 -.50
.88 68.9% OF VARIANCE
Factor 3 .85
Factor 4
.59
.18 .02 -.04
-.04 -.13
.92 -.B7
.83
= 2 FActORS Factor 5 .87 .86 .84 .86
.72 .74 -.20 -.22 -.20
67.6% OF VARIANCE
Factor 6 .25
-.23 -.26 -.25 -.30
-.35 .80 .B2 .76
Unemployed Unemployed school dropouts CONCEPT IV. HOUSING: 5 Factor #7: Rental Renter-occupied Vacant housing units Dwelling unit density
VARIABLES
V.
75.3 % OF VARIANCE
Factor 7 .BB .76
MODlun-: 3 VARIABLES
=1
.91
Factor 8 .10 .07 -.21
-.29 .31
.B1 .BO 66.1 % OF VARIANCE
FACTOR
Factor #9: Mobility Tenure at current address Mobility outside country No mobility CONCEPT VI. MARITAL STATUS: 4 Factor #10: Nonmarried Percent married Percent single Percent separated Percent divorced
.73
.55
= 2 FACTORS
Factor #8: Housing Density Median persons per household Household density CONCEPT
-.05 -.12
Factor 9 .86 .87 -.68 VARIABLES
= 1 FActOR Factor 10
50% OF VARIANCE
-.53 .67 .76 .81
CONCEPT VII. POPULATION COl\-IPOSmoN: 3 VARIABLES = 1 FACTOR 79.6% OFVARJANCE
Factor #11: Aged Percent persons 65 and over Mean age Percent widowed
Factor 11 .94 .86 .86
114
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
Social Disorganization
A cluster analysis (K-means with iterative relocation) was subsequently run to combine and identify similar block groups of the city. Seven distinct clusters emerged, with three clusters very loosely identified in the conceptual approach as being "socially disorganized" and as providing some variation in ecological characteristics. The first cluster or grouping of block groups is economically disadvantaged, with high rates of poverty and unemployment and high numbers of unemployed, school-dropout youths. It also has a high racial mix (white, black, and Hispanic) and high rates of single-parent households and persons per room (density). This cluster will be referred to hereafter as "traditional" in that is composed of variables generally associated with socially disorganized neighborhoods. The second cluster is also economically disadvantaged, although not as severely as the first; it contains a highly mobile population consisting of many unmarried persons and few intact families, and many multiple-unit dwellings. The third cluster is a predominantly minority (black) cluster vvith higher than average rates of Single-parent and unmarried-person households, and high rates of persons per room. These last two clusters will be referred to as "dense" and "black" respectively, to indicate their primary identifying features. The geographic areas covered by these clusters include areas identified by arrest data from the Denver Police Department as having high crime rates. Using arrest data, we identified those neighborhoods within the socially disorganized areas which were in the upper one-third of the crime distribution.3 These socially disorganized high-crime areas became the neighborhoods for inclusion in the study sample. Although this sample selection precludes generalizations to the total disorganized areas, it ensures the youths living in these areas are likely to be in highly criminogenic environments as well. It is to these joint disorganized high-crime areas that findings apply.
115
To select the individuals to be included in the sample of each of the five birth cohorts, a probability sample of households based on a stratified sampling design of the selected neighborhoods was used. Wlthm the group of selected households, we identified those which con tamed an eligible respondent (Le., a person aged 7, 9, 11, 13, or 15) through an initial household screening questionnaire. A full enumeration of the high-risk neighborhoods resulted in the identification of more than 48,000 households within the selected neighborhoods. On the basis of estimated vacancy and completion rates, a sample of 20,300 households was selected for an ~itial ~creenn:g phase. The sampling procedure resulted in completed mtervIews With 1,530 youths distributed across the five cohorts (a completion rate of 85% among identified eligible youths).
RESULTS
As the first point of interest, let us reiterate that we found three dis~ct types of socially disorganized areas. Although all three of the denved clusters can be described as socially disorganized, different patterns of variables characterize each cluster. Thus the "traditional" cluster consists of block groups with a concentration of unemployed people, persons employed as laborers and service workers, and a high per-unit density, whereas the "dense" cluster shares only the occupation variable. Similarly, few of the identifying characteristics of the "dense" cluster are shared by the "black" cluster. After identifying these different types of socially disorganized areas, the next issue of concern IS to determme whether different patterns of behavior exist in these neighborhoods and whether different mediating factors help to explain the relationship between community characteristics and behavior.
SELECTION OF RESPONDENTS
SAMPLE CHARACTERISTICS AND DRUG USE
The overall design of the research project is based on a prospective sequentiallongitudinal survey. The longitudinal survey involves a sequence of annual personal interviews with a probability sample of five different birth cohorts selected from the areas of high risk for delinquency. At the first annual survey, the birth cohorts were 7, 9, 11, 13, and 15 years of age. If it is assumed that the period effects between adjacent cohorts are not too large, the use of these birth cohorts (samples) results in overlapping age ranges during the course of the study that will allow examination of developmental sequences across the full age span from 7 to 18.
Table 10.2 summarizes sample characteristics and also proVides data on the proportion of respondents who reported ever having .used .alcoh.ol, marijuana, and other drugs. 4 As might be expected, there 15 a duect lmear relationship between age and use of drugs. By age 15, over half of the cohort had tried alcohol, almost one-quarter had smoked marijuana, and 8 percent had used one of the other drugs. Slight differences appear for different racial groups; whites have higher rates of alcohol and "other drug" use, and Hispanics and others report higher prevalence rates for marijuana use. No differences were found by sex, and only a
116
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
Social Disorganization
TABLE 10.2
PERCENTAGES OF RESPONDENTS EVER USING ALCOHOL,
MARIJUANA, AND OTHER DRUGS, 1988
Alcohol
Marijuana Other DrugsC
34.5 5.8 4.8
153
N
10°/"
BtACK
HISPANIC
28.2 5.4 .8
OTHER
24.4 9.2
2.1 646
549 36%
42%
24.5 b 13.6b 1.6c
181
MALE
FEMALE
26.5 6.7 1.8 801
27.1 8.2 1.9
52%
12%
YEAR OF BlRTHa
72
Alcohol
55.4
Marijuana Other Drugs'! N
23.4<1 8.2
270 18°/,)
74
76
78
728 48%
CLUSTER
80
TRAD DENSE BLACK
18.3 15.4 12.5d 24.5 29.3 29.9 b .3d 5.6 6.3 2.4 0.0 8.4 .3 2.0 1.3 1.8 2.0 439 330 315 343 864 230 301 37.7
13.4
20%
20%
21%
22%
56%
15%
29°J"
"Yeilr of birth is used 10 represent the 15-, 13-, 11-, 9-, ,md 7-ycilr-old cohorts. bp
'=
.10 based on chi-square.
"p = .05 based on chi-sgUilfC. d
p '" .01 based
011
of socially disorganized neighborhoods, these differences did not appear to affect substantially either the prevalence or the frequency of drug use.
SEX
RACE WHITE
117
chi-square.
• "Other drug" use not ilsked of the 7- and 9-yeilr-old cohorts.
The primary interest in this paper was to examine drug use from a social disorganization perspective. Further analyses therefore were conducted on those youths who reported some degree of drug use during the prior year (in this case 1987). Users were divided into experimenters (one or two uses), dabblers (three to 11 uses), and regulars (12 or more uses). Tables 10.3 and 10.4 report the results for alcohol and marijuana use. There were too few cases in the "other drug" category to merit further analysis. Despite the slight difference in ever prevalence rates by neighborhood, there were no statistically significant differences in frequency of alcohol or marijuana use during the previous year. It appeared, however, that marijuana use was slightly greater among subjects in the "traditional" socially disorganized neighborhood than elsewhere. These data suggest that although there are qualitatively different types
REASONS FOR USE AND LOCATION OF USE
A second issue of interest for the current analysis was the possibility that different variables mediate between neighborhood charact~ristics and actual behavior. To examine this issue, two follow-up questions were asked of those youths indicating some level of alcohol or marijuana use in the prior year. They were first asked where they used the drug and then why they used the drug. Multiple responses were recorded in the event that the youth was a frequent user and used the drug in multiple settings. A test of the relationship between these mediating variables and drug use revealed that most alcohol was consumed at home or at a friend's house and that there was no difference across neighborhoods (Table 10.5). For marijuana, however, neighborhood differences appear to exist. Friend's house was mentioned again by many of the respondents, but this response was much more common in the dense neighborhood. Conversely, none of the youths in the dense neighborhood reported using marijuana at school, whereas 26 percent of youths in the black neighborhood and 42 percent of those in the traditional .~rea reported use at school. Youths appear to use both alcohol and marIJuana in multiple settings, and these settings appear to vary by trl?e of neighborhood. Because of forced busing in the city, the noted dlfference in marijuana use at school can not be dismissed as an artifact of neighborhood schools, due either to physical layout or to monitoring of students.s Reasons for use of alcohol and marijuana also reflect some variation by neighborhood type. (See Table 10.6.) For alcohol, "curiosity" and for use in celebration" were the most common responses; the latter was the only statistically significant relationship by neighborhood. Youths living in the black area were less likely than others to report celebration as a reason for use, whereas it was the most common reason given by youths in the dense area. For marijuana, 56 percent of the youths in the traditional area reported getting high as the reason for use. Youths in the other neighborhoods cited this reason much less frequently. Almost one-quarter of the youths in the black area used marijuana to be accepted or to be popular with friends. Only 9 percent of the youths living in the other two areas mentioned this as a reason. As with alcohol. curiosity was cited bv a large number of youths, but there U
118
TABLE 10.3
F[{EQUENCY
OF ALCOHOL USE DURING
FRIOR YEAR, BY TYPE
TABLE 10.5
OF SOClALLY DISORGANIZED NEIGHBORHOOD FREQUENCY OF USE
TRADITIONAl.
Dabblers
50%
49%
50%
67
26
48
32%
38%
37%
19%
212
Total
52% Chi-square;:;; 3.16
BLACK
66
40
Regulars
DENSE
33
105
Experimenters
119
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
Social Disorganization
9 13%
68 17%
TRADITIONAL
203 49%
141 34%
66
13%
16% 411
32%
MARIJUANA
ALCOHOL
TOTAL
17 131
LOCATION OF USE OF ALCOHOL AND MARIJUANA, BY TYPE OF a SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NElGHBORHOOD
Home School Friend's House Park Party Relative's House Other N
55% 8% 35% 7% 16% 9% 13% 211
DENSE
BLACK
65% 4% 23% 2% 21% 12% 18%
60% 7% 32% 4% 12% 15% 18%
66
TRADITIONAL
133
DENSE
BLACK
18% 42% 53% 7% 10% 1% 16%
27% 0% 73% 18% 0% 0% 0%
26% 26%b 48%b 13%
74
13
27
9%C O%C 17'}'<)
p=ns , Multiple responses tabulated, su percentages do not add to 100. t, P '" .001 based on chi·square.
c p not calculated beciluse of expected cell frequencies of less than 5.
TABLE 10.4
FREQUENCY OF MARIJUANA USE DURING PRlOR YEAR, BY TYPE OF SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NE1GHBORHOOD
FREQUENCV OF USE
TRADITIONAL
27
Experimenters
37.5%
Dabblers
23 32%
Regulars Total Chi-square -= 6.12
DENSE
7
TOTAL
16
50
54%
57%
44%
3
5 18%
33
38%
22
1
30.5%
8°/')
72 64%
BLACK
7 25%
13
28
12%
25%
TABLE 10.6
REASONS FOR USE OF ALCOHOL AND MARIJUANA, BY TYPE OF a SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NEIGHBORHOOO
30 27%
113
P = .12
were no statistically significant differences for this reason by neighborhood. While not earth-shattering, the findings reported here suggest that there are differences in drug use by the location of use and the reason for use of marijuana. This fineting suggests that different mediating factors might help to explain drug-USing behavior in different neighborhoods.
MARIJUANA
ALCOHOL
29%
Get High Be Accepted Curiosity Celebra tion Boredom Other N
o
TRADiTIONAL
DENSE
BLACK
29% 8% 49% 46% 9% 22%
20% 6% 43% 60% 11% 6%
22% 16% 51% 39%h 6% 15%
41
80
154
Multiple responses tabulated,
bp'" .05 based on chi-square. c p == .01 based on chi-square. d
p
=
.001 based
Ort
chi-square.
50
percentages do not add to 100.
TRADiTIONAL
DENSE
BLACK
56% 9% 37% 11% 16% 12%
18% 9% 46% 9% 18% 27%
36%d 23%C 32% 5% 14% 14%
67
13
26
120
Social Disorganiza lion
It is important, then, not only to explain rates of behavior but also to explain where and why adolescents learn to rationalize or justify their behaviors.
DISCUSSION Whereas prior research often treated social disorganization as a homogeneous concept, our first finding in this analysis was that different combinations of census data identified different types of socially disorganized neighborhoods. When the theoretical constructs defining social disorganization were included in a cluster analysis, three distinct clusters emerged. 111ese three different types of neighborhoods, while sharing some elements of social disorganization, were unique in the sense that they were characterized by specific subsets of factors originally identified by Shaw and McKay (1942). Although delinquency researchers have found such different combinations of variables to be associated with delinquency in a general population (e.g., Schuerrnan and Korbin 1986), this was not the case (at least with druo- use) in the three different types of socially disorganized neighborhoods studied in this paper. Rates of alcohol and marijuana _lise, both ever prevalence and frequency of use in the past year, were found to be similar for different types of socially disorganized areas. Although we did not find variation in rates of drug use, it appeared that different mediating factors examined help to explain why adolescents use drugs. It may be, as Erikson (1966) commented, that all societies establish a quota or level of deviance necessary for the maintenance of a collective conscience and for boundary setting; drug use or experi-
mentation among adolescents may be a part of this process. Schwendinger and Schwendinger (1985), among others, suggest that adolescent culture is a response to the pressures (economic, emotional, and SOcial) placed upon these disenfranchised members of society. It is interesting to note that although no substantial differences existed in location or reason for use of alcohol, differences were found for marijuana. With alcohol being a legal drug, although proscribed for adolescents, its legal and social status, as well as its availability, make its use more normative than is the use of marijuana. Marijuana use is more of a deviant subcultural behavior, and consequently may be more of an adolescent subcultural phenomenon as well. This perspective helps to explain why alcohol is reported to be used by a majority of respondents at home, most frequently out of curiosity or as part of a celebration. As a normative drug advertised on
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
121
TV and portrayed as a legitimate business enterprise in the sponsorship of athletic events, alcohol does not have the same countercultural reputation as marijuana (e.g., Adler 1985; Becker 1963). Survey respondents did not mention celebrating as a reason for marijuana use. More frequently, its use was justified in terms of adolescent subcultural values-getting high, being accepted, and for curiosity or experimentation. Schwendinger and Schwendinger (1985), while presenting a Marxian analysis in their study of adolescent subcultures, offer an explanation not inconsistent with that presented in this study. They propose "that certain stratified networks of adolescent groups mediate the relationships between macroscopic social processes (including socioeconomic conditions) and the model patterns of delinquency occurring among peer groups. These delinquent patterns involve lifecycle changes and learned outlooks in adolescent groups on all class levels" (Schwendinger and Schwendinger 1985:xiii). Similarly, marijuana use occurred more frequently in places where adolescent groups congregated and were able to avoid adult supervision-i.e., school and friends' homes. In tllis analysis we applied tl1e traditional social ecology approach to the study of drug use and found that community descriptors are not distributed uniformly among socially disorganized areas. This conclusion confirms the findings from market segmentation research and from some delinquency research, namely that subtypes or segments of communities may exist that help predict the behavior of their residents (e.g., Cartwright and Howard 1966; Schuerman and Korbin 1986; Tryon 1955; Tryon and Bailey 1970). Therefore it is important for future research endeavors to evaluate carefully not only the conceptualization of social disorganization but also the operationalization of this theoretical construct. In addition, we extended the typical social disorganization research by examining the role of mediating factors on drug use. Our findings confinn the importance of examining individual-level variables in addition to community contextual variables, a procedure advocated recently by some delinquency researchers (e.g., Johnstone 1983; Sampson and Groves 1989; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz 1986). Learning theory (e.g., Akers 1985; Sutherland and Cressey 1970) and individual-level data that permit investigation of interactional patterns are essential components for understanding how different levels and types of social disorganization affect behavior. In this sense these findings support the potential importance of mediating variables in social ecology research; we hope that others will seek to examine further this neglected component of social disorganization theory.
122
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga
123
Social Disorganization
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EIliott, Delbert S., David Huizinga, and Suzanne S. Ageton (1985) Explaillillg Ddiw7Jlel1cy and Dmg Use. Beveriy Hills: Sage. Elliott, Delbert S., David Huizinga, and Scott Menard (1989) lvIl/ltiple Problem Youth: Delinquency, Drug Use, mId Mental Health Problems. New York: Springer-Verlag. Erikson, Kai 1. (1966) Wayward Puritans. New York: Wtley. Fagan, Jefuey, Elizabeth Piper, and Melinda Moore (1986) "Violent Delinquents and Urban Youth." Crimi1lology 24:439-71. Famworth, Margaret and MichaelJ. Leiber (1989) "Strain Theory. Revisit.ed: . Economic Goals, Educational Means, and Delinquency." Amencml SOCIOlogI-
cal Review 54:263-74. Goldstein, Paul J. (1985) "The Drugs/Violence Nexus: A Tripartite Conceptual Framework." loumal of Dnlg Issues 13(4):493-506. Heitgard, Janet L. and Robert J. Bursik, Jr. (1987) "Extraco~unity Dynamics and the Ecology of Delinquency." Americmt JOll11tal of SOCIOlogy 92:775-87. Hindelang, Michael J. and Joseph Weis (1972) "The BC.-Try Clus~;r ~d. Factor Analysis System: Personality and Self-Reported Delinquency. Cnl1ll1l%gy 10,268-94. Huba, G. J., Joseph A. Wingard, and P. M. Bentler (1979) "Ee~ing Adolescent Drug Use and Peer and Adult Interaction Patterns." Jllstlce QJ/arterly 6,419-55. Huizinga, David, Scott Menard, Delbert S. Elliott (1989) "Delinquency and Drug Use: Temporal and Developmental Patterns." Justice Quarterly 6:41955. .
Inciardi, James A. (1981) Tile Dntgs-Crime COllnection. Beverly Hills: Sage. Jessor, Richard, T. D. Graves, Robert C. Hanson, and S~rley~. Jessor (1~68) Society, Personality and Deviant Bellllvior: A Study ofTn-Ethlllc C011l11l11ll1h;. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Wins ton. Jessor, Richard and Shirley L. Jessor (1977) Problelll Bellllvior mId ~syc1lOsocial Development: A LOIIgitudinnl Study of Youth. New York: AcademIC Press. Johnson, Bruce and Eri.: Wish (1986) Fi1lnl Report to NIl, New York: Narcotic and Drug Research, Inc. Johnstone, John W. C. (1978) "Social Class, Social Areas and Delinquency." Sociology alld Social Research 63:49-72. _ _ (1983) "Recruitment to a Youth Gang." Youth and Socieh; 14:281-300. Jonassen, c. T. (1949) "A Reevaluation and Cri~que .of the ~ogic and Some Findings of Shaw and McKay." American SOCIOlogIcal ReVieW 14:608-17. Kande1, Denise B. (1973) "Adolescent Marijuana Use: Role of Parents and Peers." Science 181(4104):1067-70.
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- - (1974) "Inter- and Intragenerational Influences on Adolescent Marijuana
Use." /olmwi of Social Issues 30(2):107-35. - - (1978a) "Homophily, Selection, and Socialization in Adolescent Friend-
ships." American /olll7lal of Sociology 84(2):427-36.
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Sampson, RoberlJ. and W. Byron Groves (1989) "Conumtnity Structure and Crime: Testing Social Disorganization Theory." f1I1JCrical1 JOJJl"lItl/ of SociologJ) 94:774-802.
- - (197~b) "Similarity in Real-Life Adolescent Friendship Pairs." jOl/mal of Persollaltty alld Social PsycJlO/ogtj 36(3):306-12.
Schuerman, Leo A. and Solomon Kobrin (1986) "Community Careers in Crime." In AlbertJ. Reiss and Michael H. Tonry (eds.), Crime mul COI/J/1lJlIlity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 67-100.
- - (1978c) "On Variations in Adolescent Subcultures." YOllth aIld Society 9Gune):373-84.
Schwendinger, Hennan and Julia S. Schwendinger (1985) Adolcsce/lt SubCJl/tllres and DelillqJle/lcy. New York: Praeger.
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Shaw, Clifford R. and Henry D. McKay (1942) Juvenile De1illqIJClICY alld Urball Areas. Chicago: Universily of Chicago Press.
- - (1982) "Epidemiological and Psychological Perspective on Adolescent Drug Use." IOl/nwl of tlle American Academy of Child Psychiatry 21(4):328-47.
Simcha-Fagan, Ora and Joseph E. Schwartz (1986) "Neighborhood and Delinquency: An Assessment of ContexhJal Effects." Criminology 24:667-99.
Kaplan, Ho~ard R (1985) "Testing a General Theory of Drug Abuse and Other DeVIant Adaptations." Journal of Dntg Issues 15(4):477-92.
Stark, Rodney (1987) "Deviant Places: A Theory of the Ecology of Crime."
Sociology 6:235-85.
IGl~lan, Howard B., Steven S. Martin, and Cynthia Robbins (1982) ':Application of a General Theory of Deviant Behavior: Self-Derogation and Adolescent Drug Use." Journal of Health IlIld Social Behavior 23{December):274-94. Kapsis,.Robert E. (1978) "Residential Succession and Delinquency." Crimillology 15.459-86.
Korn~auser, Ruth (1978) Social Sources of DelilUlllI?llcy. Chicago: University of ChIcago Press.
Kraska, Peter (19.90) "The Unmentionable Alternative: The Need for, and the Argument aga~t, the Decrintinalization of Drug Laws." In Ralph Weisheit (ed.), Drugs, CrIme, alld the Criminal Justice System. Cincinnati: Anderson 111-37. ' pp.
CrimilJology 25:841-62. Sutherland, Edwin and Donald Cressey (1970) Cril1Jin%g)!. New York: Lippincott. Taylor, Ralph B. and Jeanette Covington (1988) "Neighborhood Changes in Ecology and Violence." Cril1Jillolo~.'y 26: 553-89. Tryot1, Robert C. (1955) fdelltijicatioll afSocial Arcfls by Clustcr Allalysis. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tryot1, Robert C. and Daniel E. Bailey (1970) Cll/ster Allalysis. New York McGraw-Hill. White, Helene Raskin, RobedJ. Pandina, and Randy L. LaGrange (1987) "Longitudinal Predictors of Serious Substance Use and Delinquency." Crimillolo-
gy 25:715-40. Lander, Bernard (1954) Towards all Understanding of Juvenile Delinquency. New York: Columbia University Press. Laub, Jo~ H. (1983) "Urbanism, Race, and Crime." Journal of Research ill Crime
and Dellllquency 20:183-98.
NOTES
Menard, . Scott (1987) "Short-Tenn Trends in Crime and D e !inquency: A C ompanson of UCR, NCS, and Self-Report Data." Justice Quarterly 4:455-74.
1.
Menard, Scott and Herbert C. Covey (1988) "UCR and NCS: CompariSons over Space and TIme." JOHn/ol ofCrimi1lal Justice 16:371-84.
2.
Quinney~ Ri~ard (1964) "Crime, Delinquency and Social Areas." Joul7lal o/Research
1/1
Cl'lllle alld DelillquellCY 1:149-54.
Sampson, Robert J. (1985) "Neighborhood and Crime: The Structural Detenninants of Personal Victimization." Joumal of Research ill Crime and Delinquency 22:7-40. - - . (19~7) "Communities and Crime." In Michael Gottfredson and Travis HlIschi (eds.), Positive Crimillology. Beverly Hills: Sage, pp. 91-114.
3.
For a review of measurement problems attributed to official data, consult Menard (1987) or Menard and Covey (1988). This research is part of a larger program sponsored by the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, and involves companion projects at the University of Pittsburgh and SUNY-Albany. A number of block groups defined as socially disorganized did not have high crime rates and therefore were excluded from the sample. Conversely, block groups having high crime rates but not socially disorganized according to our analysiS also were excluded from the high-risk sample. Therefore our analysis does not attempt to explain drug use as a cause of social disorganization. Rather, in view of the finding that distinct types of socially disorganized commlmities exist in Denver, we attempt to deter-
126
Social Disorganization
mine whether different patterns of drug use are associated with different mediating factors in these communities. 4. This c
CHAPTER
III Anomie
What happens to people when the limitations imposed on them by sociallife are relaxed or are no longer binding? Are they likely to be more content freed from the restraints and obligations of social life, or would happiness be impossible if they were unencumbered by social rules? And on the societallevel, would freedom from regulation by norms increase or decrease social pathology? The readings in Chapter III explore these questions by considering the relationships among human desires, social structural conditions, and deviance. The social disorganization theories discussed in Chapter IT focused on the negative effects of social change on traditional ways of life, implying that freedom from normative restraints is likely to lead to higher rates of deviance. A£, a starting point, this chapter picks up on a similar theme. The idea underlying Emile Durkheim's concept of anornie is that during periods of sudden social change, the traditional rules of a society or group become less binding on the individual members, and the hypothesized result is increased deviance. 111is idea is extended by Robert K. Merton to the deviance-producing difficulties that arise in societies (such as the United States) that are characterized by considerable class or etlmic stratification. The first reading in this chapter, Reading 11, is from Durkheim's Suicide. As one of sociology's earliest proponents, Durkheim was trying to demonstrate how even a highly individualistic phenomenon such as suicide can be explained in reference to social arrangements. Durkheim postulates that happiness depends on a balance between individual desires and the possibility of fulfilling them. Humans have socially induced appetites that are virtually insatiable; their needs and desires are ever increasing and therefore limitless if unchecked. Unless
128
Anomie
possible, they are bound to suffer permanent malaise. Durkheim compares this to inextinguishable thirst, which is "constantly renewed torture." He maintains that "To pursue a goal which is by definition unattainable is to condemn oneself to a state of perpetual unhappiness." Since it is apparent that in order to escape the torment of unattainable aspirations, desires must be restrained, and since it is not in people's nature to apply such restraints voluntarily, Durkheim concludes that some external regulative force must be applied to establish limits. This constraining force is society, which alone has the necessary power "to stipulate law and to set the point beyond which passions must not go." People are therefore dependent on societal norms to curb their limitless desires and make their existence tolerable. Under most conditions the normative restrictions are clear, and most people adhere to them. But when there is social upheaval, as during an economic crisis, they may find themselves in unfamiliar situations. The limits of the possible and the impossible may then become unknown. The resulting social condition is what Durkheim calls anornie, or a state of normlessness. He argues that as anomie increases in a society, malaise and despair will also increase, and so will indicators of pathology such as the suicide rate. Durkheirn also argues that modem, industrial societies can be expected to be far more afflicted with anomie and to have chronically higher suicide rates than less developed societies. This is because the recurrent highs and lows in the economic cycles of modem societies, coupled with their greater social mobility, continually subject their members to anomie. Less developed societies, being more economically stable and socially rigid (though often highly stratified), have more enduring normative patterns and therefore less anomie and lower suicide rates. To this day, data comparing the suicide rates of developed countries (relatively high) with those of developing countries (relatively low) are consistent with Durkheim's anomie theory. Durkheim attempts in Reading 11 to explain varying rates of what historically has been regarded as a highly individualistic phenomenon, suicide, by reference to a social condition-anomie. In Reading 12, Merton also seeks to show how social structures can exert pressure on certain persons to engage in deviant behavior.l Like Durkheim, he uses the term al'LOmie to denote normlessness in a society, but he extends Durkheim's explanation of its causes. Merton argues that anomie arises in a society when there is an imbalance of emphasis on the importance of attaining culturally valued goals and the availability of legitimate, institutionalized means to reach ,these ~oals. TI1e requisite conditions for anornie are present when mem-
Anomie
129
minorities) are constantly informed through the media and popular wisdom that monetary success and its material rewards are positively valued goals, while at the same time their experience tells them that the legitimate means for achieving these goals are relatively unavailable to them. As a result of this anomic condition within the society-the discrepancy between means and ends-these individuals may maintain their desires to achieve the culturally valued goals but reject the traditionally legitimate means for achieving them because these means are not readily accessible. Merton suggests a typology of five ways in which individuals occupying different positions in the social structure adapt to anomie; they may conform, or tl1ey may engage in one of four deviant adaptations. In Merton's terms, the first deviant adaptation is innovation, which includes what is more commonly called crime; the other deviant adaptations are ritualism, retreatism, and rebellion. Thus, whereas Durkheim attributes anomie to a breakdown or deregulation of the norms in a society, so that they no longer effectively control behavior, Merton accounts for anomie in the disparity betvveen culturally accepted goals and the legitimate institutionalized means available to achieve them. Further, Durkheim sees anomie as the outcome of crisis situations in society, especially as the result of chronic economic instability in modem countries. In contrast, Merton views anornie as the outgrowth of a rather constant discrepancy in American society between an overemphasis on success-oriented goals and a corresponding failure to provide equality of opportunity. Merton's proposition that people in a society who do not find legitimate means to success available are likely to turn to illegitimate means is based on the assumption that illegitimate opportunities to reach success goals will be available. In Reading 13, Richard Cloward builds upon Merton's work by suggesting that such means may not be equally accessible, just as legitimate means are not. He argues that there are different illegal, as well as different legal, opportunity structures. As a consequence, when legitimate means to success goals are blocked, the likelihood that a person wilt for example, "innovate" (e.g., commit crime) or "retreat" (e.g., take drugs), depends in large part on which opportunities are most readily available. ll1us, taken together, Merton and Cloward draw attention to the role of both legitimate and illegitimate opportunity structures for the production and shaping of deviant behavior. Cloward's examination of variations in the availability of illegitimate means as an explanation for why certain people become deviant refers to Edwin Sutherland's work on the concept of differential association, which is the topic of Chapter IV. The Analysis and Critique section in this chapter, by Albert K.
130
theory and serves as a bridge to a number of the theories that follow. Cohen argues that although it claims to be sociological, Merton's approach is "in certain respects, atomistic and individualistic." The problem stems from its failure to account for social-psychological processes in the explanation of how a person becomes deviant. For example, the theory seems to assume that the dominant values in a society are internalized at about the same level by all its members. Cohen suggests it is more realistic to consider the comparisons that people make with one another as they settle on their individual levels of aspiration. In addition, anomie theory treats the transition from conformity to deviance as though it were an abrupt change. More accurately, Co hen contends, deviance theory should recognize the processes a person goes through-the tentative, groping, false starts and unintended actionsthat lead to a deviant role. These processes include the responses to deviance made by social control agents and "the process of progressive involvement in, commitment to , and movement among social roles" that an individual undergoes in establishing a deviant identity. Thus, while people may be subject to the socially induced strain of anomie, they may also be affected by role models, peer pressures, their selfimage, their perceptions of other people's reactions to their behavior, and their power to defend the norms of their groups and their own behavior. Attempts to deal with such issues underlie the theories presented in subsequent chapters. The Contemporary Application selection on "Anomie and Corporat~ Deviance," Reading 15, by Nikos Passas, applies anomie theory qUIte differently from the perspective's originators. Indeed, Merton's formulation of the theory strongly implies that because legitimate avenues to reach success goals are least available to those in the lower class, crime rates will be highest among lower-class individuals. Passas argues that anomie spavmed by unattainable success goals afflicts even the leaders of today'S giant corporations, people who are among the most wealthy and powerful individuals in the world. Although this is not exactly what Durkheim had in mind when he argued that anomie is a ~ocial condition endemic to modern, industrial societies, Passas's application of anomie theory to corporate deviance is perfectly consistent with Durkheim's contention.
NOTE 1.
11. Emile Durkheim
Anomie
Also see Robert K Merton, "Social Structure and Anomie," American Sociological Review 3 (October 1938): 672.
131
11 Anomic Suicide
EMILE DURKHEIM No living being can be happy or even exist unless his needs are sufficiently proportioned to his means. In other words, if his needs require more tl~an can be granted, or even merely something of a different sort, they WIll be under continual friction and can only function painfully. Movements incapable of production without pain tend not to be reproduced. Unsatisfied tendencies atrophy, and as the impulse to live is merely the result of all the rest, it is bound to weaken as the others relax. .In the animal, at least in the normal condition, this equilibrium is establIshed with automatic spontaneity because the animal depends on purely material conditions. All the organism needs is that the supplies of substance and energy constantly employed in the vital process should be peri.odically renewed by equivalent quantities; that replacement be eqUIvalent to use. When the void created by existence in its own resourc~s is filled, the animal, satisfied, asks nothing further. Its power of reflectIOn is not sufficiently developed to imagine other ends than those implicit in its physical nature. On the other hand, as the work demanded of each organ itself depends on the general state of vital energy and the needs of organic equilibrium, use is regulated in turn by replacement and the balance is automatic. The limits of one are those of the other; both are fundamental to the constitution of the existence in question, which cannot exceed them. This is not the case with man, because most of his needs are not dependent on his body or not to tl1e same degree. Strictly speaking, we may.consid:,r that the quantity of material supplies necessary to the pl:yslcal mamtenance of a human life is subject to computation, though thIS be less exact than in the preceding case and a wider margin left for the free combinations of the will; for beyond the indispensable minimum which satisfies nature when instinctive, a more awakened reflection suggests better conditions, seemingly desirable ends craving fulfillment. Such appetites, however, admittedly sooner or later reach a l~t which they cannot pass. But how determine the quantity of wellbemg, comfort or luxury legitimately to be craved by a human being? Nothing appears in man's organic nor in his psychological constitution which sets a limit to such tendencies. The ftmctioning of individual life does not require them to cease at one point ratl1er than at another; the proof being that they have constantly increased since the beginnings of Reprinted with the permission of The l:ree Press,
132
history, receiving more and more complete satisfaction, yet with no weakening of average health. Above all, how establish their proper variation with different conditions of life, occupations, relative importance
of services, etc.? In no society are they equally satisfied in the different stages of the social hierarchy. Yet human nature is substantially the same among all men, in its essential qualities. It is not human nature which can assign the variable limits necessary to our needs. They are thus un-
limited so far as they depend on the individual alone. Irrespective of any external regulatory force, Qur capacity for feeling is in itself an in-
satiable and bottomless abyss. But if nothing external can restrain this capacity, it can only be a source of torment to itself. Unlimited desires are insatiable by definitio~ a~d insatiability is rightly considered a sign of morbidity. Being
unDilUted, they constantly and infinitely surpass the means at their command; they cannot be quenched. Inextinguishable thirst is constantly renewed torture. It has been claimed, indeed, that human activity naturally aspires beyond assignable limits and sets itself unattainable goals. But how can such an undetermined state be any more reconciled Witl1 the conditions of mental life than with the demands of physical life? All man's pleasure in acting, moving and exerting himself implies tl1e sense that his efforts are not in vain and that by walking he has advanced. However, one does not advance when one walks toward no goal, orwhich is the same tlling-when Ilis goal is infinity. Since tl1e distance between us and it is always the same, whatever road we take, we might as well have made the motions without progress from the spot. Even our glances behind and our feeling of pride at the distance covered can cause only deceptive satisfaction, since the remaining distance is not proportionately reduced. To pursue a goal which is by definition unattainable is to condemn oneself to a state of perpetual unhappiness. Of COUTse, man may hope contrary to all reason, and hope has its pleasures even when unreasonable. It may sustain him for a time; but it cannot survive the repeated disappointments of experience indefinitely. What more can the future offer him than the past, since he can never reach a tenable condition nor even approach the glimpsed ideal? Thus, the more one has, the more one wants, since satisfactions received only stimulate instead of filling needs. Shall action as such be considered agreeable? First, only on condition of blindness to its uselessness. Secondly, for this pleasure to be felt and to temper and half veil the accompanying painful unrest, such unending motion must at least always be easy and unhampered. If it is interfered with only restlessness is left, with the lack of ease which it, itself, entails. But it would be a miracle if no insurmountable obstacle were never encountered. Our thread of life on these con-
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To achieve any other result, the passions first must be limited. Only then can tl1ey be harmonized with the faculties and satisfied. But since the individual has no way of limiting them, this must be done by some force exterior to him. A regulative force must play the same role for
moral needs which the organism plays for physical needs. This means that the force can only be moral. The awakening of conscience interrupted the state of equilibrium of the animal's dormant existence; only conscience, therefore, can furnish the means to re-establish it. Physical restraint would be ineffective; hearts cannot be touched by physicochemical forces. So far as the appetites are not automatically restrained
by physiological mechanisms, they can be halted only by a limit that they recognize as just. Men would never consent to restrict their desires if they felt justified in passing the assigned limit. But, for reasons given above, they cannot assign themselves this law of justice. So they must receive it from an authority which they respect, to which tl1ey yield spontaneously. Either directly and as a whole, or through tl1e agency of one of its organs, society alone can play this moderating role; for it is the only moral power superior to the individual, the authority of wllich he accepts. It alone has the power necessary to stipulate law and to set the point beyond which the passions must not go. Finally, it alone can estimate the reward to be prospectively offered to every class of human functionary, in the name of the common interest. As a matter of fact, at every moment of history there is a dim perception, in the moral consciousness of societies, of the respective value of different social services, the relative reward due to each, and the consequent degree of comfort appropriate on the average to workers in each occupation. The different ftmctions are graded in public opinion and a certain coefficient of well-being assigned to each, according to its place in the hierarchy. According to accepted ideas, for example, a certain way of living is considered the upper limit to which a workman may aspire in his efforts to improve his existence, and there is another limit below which he is not willingly permitted to fall unless he has seriously demeaned himself. Both differ for city and country workers, for the domestic servant and the day-Iaborer, for the business clerk and official, etc. Likewise the man of wealth is reproved if he lives the life of a poor man, but also if he seeks the refinements of luxury overmuch. Economists may protest in vain; public feeling will always be scandalized if an individual spends too much wealth for wholly superfluous use, and it even seems that this severity relaxes only in times of moral disturbance. 1 A genuine regimen exists, therefore, although not always legally formulated, which fixes with relative precision the maximum degree of ease of living to which each social class may legitimately as,... ; ..,., u ..... ~" ...."o ..
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Allomie
Wit!: the. increase or decrease of collective revenue and the changes occllr~mg ill the moral ideas of society. This what appears luxury to one per~od no longer does so to another; and the well-being which for long
penods was granted to a class only by exception and supererogation, finally appears strictly necessary and equitable. Under this pressure, each in his sphere vaguely realizes the extreme limit set to his ambitions and aspires to nothing beyond. At least if he respects regulations and is docile to collective authority, that is, has a wholesome moral constitution, he feels that it is not well to ask more. ~h~sl an end and goal are set to the passions. Truly, there is nothing rIgId nor absolute about such determination. The economic ideal assigned each dass of citizens is itself confined to certain limits, within which the desires have fee range. But it is not infinite. This relative limitation and the moderation it involves, make men contented with their lot while stimulating them moderately to improve it; and this average co~tentment causes the feeling of calm, active happiness, the pleasure in eXIsting and living which characterizes health for societies as well as for individuals. Each person is then at least, generally speaking, in harmony with his condition, and desires only what he may legitimately hope for as the normal reward of his activity. Besides, this does not con~emn m~n to a sort of immObility. He may seek to give beauty to his life; but his attempts in this direction may fail without causing him to despair. For, loving what he has and not fixing his desire solely on what he lacks, his wishes and hopes may fail of what he has happened to aspire to, without his being wholly destitute. He has the essentials. The equilIbnum of hiS happiness is secure because it is defined, and a few nUshaps cannot disconcert him. But it would be of little use for for everyone to recognize the justice of the hierarchy of functions established by public opinion, if he did not also consider the distribution of these functions just. The worlanan is not in hannony with his social position if he is not convinced that he has rus desserts. If he feels justified in occupying another, what he has would not satisfy him. So it is not enough for the average level of needs for each social condition to be regulated by public opinion, but another, m~re ~r~cise rule, must fix the way in which these conditions are open to mdlvlduals. There is no society in which such regulation does not exist. It varies with times and places. Once it regarded birth as the almost exclusive principle of social classification; today it recognizes no other inherent inequality than hereditary forhme and merit. But in all these various forms its object is uncllanged. It is also only possible, everywhere, as a restriction upon individuals imposed by superior authority, that is, by collective authority. For it can be establlshed only by requiring
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of one or another group of men, usually of all, sacrifices and concessions in the name of the public interest. Some, to be sure, have thought that this moral pressure would become unnecessary if men's econonUc circumstances were only no longer determined by heredity. If inheritance were abolished, the argument runs, if everyone began life with equal resources and if the competitive struggle were fought out on a basis of perfect equality, no one could think its results unjust. Each would instinctively feel that things are as they should be. Truly, the nearer this ideal equality were approached, the less social restraint will be necessary. But it is only a matter of degree. One sort of heredity mll always exist, that of natural talent. Intelligence, taste, scientific, artistic, literary or industrial ability, courage and manual dexterity are gifts received by each of us at birth, as the heir to weaHh receives his capital or as the nobleman formerly received his title and function. A moral discipline will therefore still be required to make those less favored by nature accept the lesser advantages which they owe to the chance of birth. Shall it be demanded that all have an equal share and that no advantage be given those more useful and deserving? But then there would have to be a discipline far stronger to make these accept a treatment merely equal to that of the mediocre and incapable. But like the one first mentioned, this discipline can be useful only if considered just by the peoples subject to it. When it is maintained only by custom and force, peace and harmony are illusory; the spirit of unrest and discontent are latent; appetites superficially restrained are ready to revolt. This happened in Rome and Greece when the faiths underlying the old organization of the patricians and plebeians were shaken, and in our modem societies when aristocratic prejudices began to lose their old ascendancy. But this state of upheaval is exceptional; it occurs only when society is passing through some abnormal crisis. In normal conditions the collective order is regarded as just by the great majority of persons. Therefore, when we say that an authority is necessary to impose this order on individuals, we certainly do not mean that violence is the only means of establishing it. Since this regulation is meant to restrain individual passions, it must come from a power which dominates individuals; but this power must also be obeyed through respect, not fear. n is not true, then, that human activity can be released from all restraint. Nothing in the world can enjoy such a privilege. All existence being a part of the universe is relative to the remainder; its nature and method of manifestation accordingly depend not only on itself but on other beings, who consequently restrain and regulate it. Here there are
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only differences of degree and form betvveen the mineral realm and the thinking person. Man's characteristic privilege is that the bond he accepts is not physical but moral; that is, social. He is governed not by a material environment brutally imposed on him, but by a conscience superior to his own, the superiority of which he feels. Because the greater, better part of his existence transcends the body, he escapes the body's yoke, but is subject to that of society. But when society is disturbed by some painful ccisis or by beneficent but abrupt transitions, it is momentarily incapable of exercising this influence; thence come the sudden rises in the curve of suicides whiCh we have pointed out above. In the case of economic disasters, indeed, something like a declassification occurs which suddenly casts certain individuals into a lower state than their previous one. Then they must reduce their requirements, restrain their needs, learn greater self-control. All the advantages of social influence are lost so far as they are concerned; their moral education has to be recommenced. But society cannot adjust them instantaneously to this new life and teach them to practice the increased self-repression to which they are unaccustomed. So they are not adjusted to the condition forced on them, and its very prospect is intolerable; hence the suffering which detaches Ulem from a reduced existence even before they have made trial of it. It is the same if the source of the crisis is an abrupt growth of power and wealth. Then, truly, as the conditions of life are changed, the standard according to which needs were regulated can no longer remain the same; for it varies with social resources, since it largely determines the share of each class of producers. The scale is upset; but a new scale cannot be immediately improvised. Time is required for the public conscience to reclassify men and things. So long as the social forces thus freed have not regained equilibrium, their respective values are unknown and so all regulation is lacking for a time. The limits are unknown between the possible and the impossible, what is just and what is unjust, legitimate claims and hopes and those which are immoderate. Consequently, there is no restraint upon aspirations. If the disturbance is profound, it affects even the principles controlling the distribution of men among various occupations. Since the relations between various parts of society are necessarily modified, the ideas expressing these relations must change. Some particular class especially favored by the crisis is no longer resigned to its former lot, and, on the other hand, the example of its greater good fortune arouses all sorts of jealously below and about it. Appetites, not being controlled by a public opinion, become disoriented, no longer recognize the limits proper to them. Besides. thev are at the same time seizf>d hv a sort of nntllr::li
11. Emile Durkheim
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erethism simply by the greater intensity of public life. WIth increased prosperity desires increase. At the very moment when traditional rules have lost their authority, the richer prize offered these appetites stimulates them and malces them more exigent and impatient of control. The state of de-regulation or anomy is thus further heightened by passions being less disciplined, precisely when they need more disciplining. But then their very demands make fulfillment impossible. Overweening ambition always exceeds the results obtained, great as they may be, since there is no warning to pause here. Nothing gives satisfaction and all this agitation is uninterruptedly maintaIDed without appeasement. Above all, since this race for an unattainable goal can give no other pleasure but that of the race itself, if it is one, once it is interrupted the participants are left empty-handed. At the same time the struggle grows more violent and painful, both from being less controlled and because competition is greater. All classes contend among themselves because no established classification any longer exists. Effort grows, just when it becomes less productive. How could the desire to live not be weakened under such conditions? This explanation is confirmed by the remarkable immunity of poor countries. Poverty protects against suicide because it is a restraint in itself. No matter how one acts, desires have to depend upon resources to some extent; actual possessions are partly Ule criterion of those aspired to. So the less one has the less he is tempted to extend the range of his needs indefinitely. Lack of power, compelling moderation, accustoms men to it, while nothing excites envy if no one has superfluity. Wealth, on the other hand, by the power it bestows, deceives us into believing that we depend on ourselves only. Reducing the resistance we encounter from objects, it suggests the possibility of unlimited success against them. The less limited one feels, the more intolerable all limitation appears. Not without reason, therefore, have so many religions dwelt on the advantages and moral value of poverty Tt is actually the best school for teaching self-restraint. Forcing us to constant self-discipline, it prepares us to accept collective discipline with equanimity, while wealth, exalting the individual, may always arouse the spirit of rebellion which is the very source of immorality. This, of course, is no reason why humanity should not improve its material condition. But though the moral danger involved in every growth of prosperity is not irremediable, it should not be forgotten. If anomy never appeared except, as in the above instances, in intermittent spurts and acute crisis, it might cause the social suicide-rate to vary from time to time, but it would not be a regular, constant factor. In one sphere of social life, however-the sphere to trade and industry-it is actuallv in a chronic state.
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For a whole century, economic progress has mainly consisted in freeing industrial relations from all regulation. Until very recently, it was the function of a whole system of moral forces to exert this discipline. First, the influence of religion was felt alike by workers and masters, the poor and the rich. It consoled the former and taught them contentment with their lot by informing them of the providential nature of the social order, that the share of each class was assigned by God himself, and by holding out the hope for just compensation in a world to come in return for the inequalities of this world. It governed the latter, recalling that worldly interests are not man's entire lot, that they must be subordinate to other and higher interests, and that they should therefore not be pursued without rule or measure. Temporal power, in rum, restrained the scope of economic functions by its supremacy over them and by the relatively subordinate role it assigned them. Finally, within the business world proper, the occupational groups by regulating salaries, the price of products and production itself, directly fixed the average level of income on which needs are partially based by the very force of circumstances. However, we do not mean to propose this organization as a model. Clearly it would be inadequate to existing societies without great changes. What we stress is its existence, the fact of its useful influence, and that nothing today has come to take its place. Actually, religion has lost most of its power. And government instead of regulating economic life, has become its tool and servant. The most opposite schools, orthodox economists and extreme socialists, unite to reduce government to the role of a more or less passive intermediary among the various social functions. The former wish to make it simply the guardian of individual contracts; the latter leave it the task of doing the collective bookkeeping, that is, of recording the demands of consumers, transmitting them to producers, inventorying the total revenue and distributing it according to a fixed fonnula. But both refuse it any power to subordinate other social organs to itself and to make them converge toward one dominant aim. On both sides nations are declared to have the single or chief purpose of achieving industrial prosperity; such is the implication of the dogma of economic materialism, the basis of both apparently opposed systems. And as these theories merely express the state of opinion, industry, instead of being still regarded as a means to an end transcending itself, has become the supreme end of individuals and societies alike. ll1ereupon the appetites thus excited have become freed of any limiting authority. By sanctifying them, so to speak, this apotheosis of well-being has placed them above all human law. Their restraint seems Like a sort of sacrilege. For this reason, even the purely utilitarian regulation of them exercised by the industrial world itself through the medium of occupational groUDS has been unahlF' tn nPr-
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sist. Ultimately, this liberation of desires has been made worse by the very development of industry and the almost infinite extension of the market. So long as the producer could gain his profits only in his immediate neighborhood, the restricted amount of pOSSible gain could not much overexcite ambition. Now that he may assume to have almost the entire world as his customer, how could passions accept their former confinement in the face of such limitless prospects? Such is the source of the excitement predominating in this part of society, and which has thence extended to the other parts. There, the state of crisis and anomy is constant and, so to speak, normal. From top to bottom of the ladder, greed is aroused without knowing where to find ultimate foothold. Nothing can calm it, since its goal is far beyond all it can attain. Reality seems valueless by comparison with the dreams of fevered imagination; reality is therefore abandoned, but so too is possibility abandoned when it in turn becomes re~ity. A thirst ~ses for no~ elties, unfamiliar pleasures, nameless sensations, all of whIch lose theIr savor once known. Henceforth one has no strength to endure the least reverse. The whole fever subsides and the sterility of all the tumult is apparent, and it is seen that all these new sensations in their infinite qu~n tity cannot form a solid foundation of happiness to support one durmg days of trial. The wise man, knowing how to enjoy achieved results without having constantly to replace them with others, finds in them an attachment to life in the hour of difficulty. But the man who has always pinned all his hopes on the future and lived with his eyes fixed upon it, has nothing in the past as a comfort a~ainst the present's. affljctions, for the past was nothing to him but a serIes of hastily expenenced stages. What blinded him to himself was his expectation always to find further on the happiness he had so far missed. Now he is stopped in his tracks; from how on nothing remains behind or ahead of him to fix his gaze upon. Weariness alone, moreover, is enough to bring disillusionment, for he cannot in the end escape the futility of an endless pursuit. We may even wonder if this moral state is not principally what makes economic catastrophes of our day so fertile in suicides. In societies where a man is subjected to a healthy discipline, he submits more readily to the blows of chance. The necessary effort for sustaining a little more discomfort costs him relatively little, since he is used to discomfort and constraint. But when every constraint is hateful in itself, how can closer constraint not seem intolerable? There is no tendency to resignation in the feverish impatience of men's lives. When there is no other aim but to outstrip constantly the point arrived at, how painful to be thrown badd Now this ve~r lack of o:~a~ization cha:a~er~ing our
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Since imagination is hungry for novelty, and ungoverned, it gropes at random. Setbacks necessarily increase with risks and thus crises multiply, just when they are becoming more destructive. Yet these dispositions are so inbred that society has grown to accept them and is accustomed to think them normal. It is everlastingly repeated that it is man's nature to be eternally dissatisfied, constantly to advance, without relief or rest, toward an indefinite goal. The longing for infinity is daily represented as a mark of moral distinction, whereas it can only appear within unregulated consciences which elevate to a rule the lack of rule from which they suffer. The doctrine of the most ruthless and swift progress has become an article of faith. But other theories appear parallel with those praising the advantages of instability, which, generalizing the situation that gives then birth, declare life evil, claim that it is richer in grief than in pleasure and that it attracts men only by false claims. Since this disorder is greatest in the economic world, it has most victims there. Industrial and commercial functions are really among the occupations which furnish the greatest number of suicides (see Table 11.1). Almost on a level with the liberal professions, they sometimes surpass them; they are especially more afflicted than agriculture, where the old regulative forces still make their appearance felt most and where the fever of business has least penetrated. Here is best recalled what was once the general constitution of the economic order. And the divergence would be yet greater it among the suicides of industry, employers were distinguished from worlanen, for the former are probably most stricken by the state of anorny. The enormous rate of those with independent means (720 per million) sufficiently shows that the possessors of most comfort suffer most. Everything that enforces subordination attenuates the effects of this state. At least the horizon of the lower classes is limited by those above them, and for this same reason their desires are more modest. Those who have only empty space above them are almost inevitably lost in it, if for no force restrains them. Anomy, therefore, is a regular and specific factor in suicide in our modern societies; one of the springs from which the annual contingent feeds. So we have here a new type to distinguish from the others. It differs from them in its dependence, not on the way in which individuals are attached to society, but on how it regulates them. Egoistic suicide results from man's no longer finding a basis for existence in life; altruistic suicide, because this basis for existence appears to man situated beyond life itself. The third sort of suicide, the existence of which has just been shown, results from man's activity's lacking regulation and his consequent sufferings. By virtue of its origin we shall assign this last variety thp
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TABLE 11.1
SUICIDES PER MILLION PERSONS OF DIFFERENT OCCUPATIONS
TRADE
France (1878-87)'
440
Switzerland (1876)
664
TRANSPORAGruCUL- LIBERAL * TATlON INDUSTRY TURE PROFESSIONS
1,514 152.6
340
240
300
577
304
558
Italy (1866-76)
277
Prussia (1883-90)
754
456
80.1
26.7
618'
315
832
Bavaria (1884-91)
465
369
153
454
Belgium (1886-90)
421
160
160
100
Wurttemburg (1873-78)
273
190
206
Saxony (1878)
341.59§
71.17
'When statislic~ distinguish several different sorts of liberal occupations, we show as a specimen the one in which the suicide-rate is highest. tprom 1826 to 1880 economic functions seem less affected (see Compte-mull! of 1880); but were occupational statistics very accurate? IThis figure is reached only by men of letters. §Figure represents Trade, Transportation and Industry combined for Saxony. (Ed.)
Certainly, this and egoistic suicide have kindred ties. Both spring from society's insufficient presence in individuals. But the sphere of its absence is not the same in both cases. In egoistic suicide it is deficient in truly collective activity, thus depriving the latter of object and meaning. In anomic suicide, society's influence is lacking in the basically individual passions, thus leaving them without a check-rein. In spite of their relationship, therefore, the two types are independent of each other. We may offer society everything social in llS, and still be unable to control our desires; one may live in an anomic state without being egoistic, and vice versa. These tvvo sorts of suicide therefore do not draw their chief recruits from the same social environments; one has its principal field among intellectual careers, the world of thought-the other, the industrial or commercial world.
NOTE 1.
Actually, this is a purely moral reprobation and can hardly be judicially implemented. We do not consider any reestablishment of sumptuary laws
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12 Social Structure and Anomie ROBERT K. MERTON Until recently, and all the more so before then, one could speak of a marked tendency in psychological and sociological theory to attribute the faulty operation of social structures to failures of social control over man's imperious biological drives. TIle imagery of the relations behveen man and society implied by this doctrine is as clear as it is questionable. In the beginning, there are man's biological impulses which seek full expression. And then, there is the social order, essentially an apparatus for the management of impulses, for the social processing of tensions, for the "renunciation of instinctual gratifications," in the words of Freud. Nonconformity with the demands of a social structure is thus assumed to be anchored in original nature. 1 It is the biologically rooted impulses which from time to time break through social control. And by implication, conformity is the result of an utilitarian calculus or of unreasoned conditioning. With the more recent advancement of social science, this set of conceptions has undergone basic modification. For one thing, it no longer appears so obvious that man is set against society in an unceasing war between biological impulse and social restraint. The image of man as an untamed bundle of impulses begins to look more like a caricature than a portrait. For another, sociological perspectives have increasingly entered into the analysis of beha vi or deviating from prescribed patterns of conduct. For whatever the role of biological impulses, there still remains the further question of why it is that the frequency of deviant behavior varies within different social structures and how it happens that the deviations have different shapes and patterns in different social structures. Today, as then, we have still much to learn about the processes through which social structures generate the circumstances in which infringement of social codes constitutes a "normal" (that is to say, an e>..'pectable) response. 2 This chapter is an essay seeking clarification of the problem. The framework set out in this essay is designed to proVide one systematic approach to the analysis of social and cultural sources of deviant behavior. Our primary aim is to discover how some social structures exert
a definite pressure upon certain persons in the society to engage ill nOr/conformillg rather than conforming conduct.If we can locate groups peculiarly subject to such pressures, we should expect to find fairly high rates of deReprinted with the permission of The Free Press, a Division ofSimon & Sdluster from
Social Theory and Social Structure by Robert K. Merlon. Copyright © 1967, 1968 by Robert K. rl/Jerlon.
,
12. Robert K. Merton
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. nt behavior in these groups, not because the human beings compris-
~Tla them are compounded of distinctive biological tendencies but be-
mg h .a1. . . hi h tl cause they are responding normally to t e S~Cl SItuation ID W. C. 1~y find themselves. Our perspective is sociologrcal. We look at vanations ill the rates of deviant behavior, not at its incidence. 3 Should our quest be at all successful, some forms of deviant behav:ior will be foun~ to be as psychologically normal as confo~g be~avIOr, an~ the eq~ation of deviation and psychological abnormality WIll be put In question.
PATTERNS OF CULTURAL GOALS AND INSTITUTIONAL NORMS Among the several elements of social and cultural structures, MO are of immediate importance. These are analytically separable although they merge in concrete situations. The first con~i~ts of cu!tu~ally defined goals, purposes and interests, held out as legItimate objectives for all or for diversely located members of the sOciety. The goals are more or less integrated-the degree is a question of empirical fact-and roughly o~ dered in some hierarchy of value. Involving various degrees of sentiment and significance, the prevailing goals comprise a frame of aspirational reference. They are the things "worth striving f?r." They are a basic, though not the exclusive, component of what Lmton has called "designs for group living." And though some, not all, of these cultural goals are directly related to the biological drives of man, tlley are not detemUned by them. A second element of the cultural structure defines, regulates and controls the acceptable modes of reaching out for these goals. Every social group invariably couples its culruraI objectives with regulatio.ns, rooted in the mores or institutions, of allowable procedures for movmg toward these objectives. These regulatory norms are not necessa~ily identical with technical or efficiency norms. Many procedures whIch from the standpoint of particular individuals would be most efficient in securing desired values-the exercise of force, fraud, power-are ruled out of the institutional area of permitted conduct. At times, the disallowed procedures include some which would be efficient for th.e group itself-e.g., historic taboos on vivisection, on medical. expenmentation, on the sociological analysis of "sacred" norms-smce the criterion of acceptability is not technical efficiency but value-laden sentiments (supported by most members of the group or by Ulose able to promote these sentiments through the composite use of power and propaganda). In all instances, the choice of expedients for striving toward
144
12. Robert K. Merton
Anomie
Sociologists often speak of these controls as being "in the mores" or as operating through social institutions. Such elliptical statements are true enough, but they obscure the fact that culturally standardized practices are not all of a piece. They are subject to a wide gamut of control. They may represent definitely prescribed or preferential or permIS.SIve or proscnbed patterns of behavior. In assessing the operation of sO~lal. controls, these variations-roughly indicated by the terms preSCriptIOn, preference, permission and proscription-must of course be taken into account. To say, moreover, that cultural goals and institutionalized norms operate jointly to shape prevailing practices is not to say that they bear a constant relation to one another. The cultural emphasis placed upon certain goals varies independently of the degree of emphasis upon institutionalized means. 111ere may develop a very heavy, at times a virtually exclusive, stress upon the value of particular goals, involving comparatively little concern with the institutionally prescribed means of striving toward these goals. The limiting case of this type is reached when the range of alternative procedures is governed only by technical rather than by institutional norms. Any and all procedures which promise attainment of the all-important goal would be pemtitted in this hypothetical polar case. This constitutes one type of malintegrated culture. A second polar type is found in groups where activities originally conceived as instrumental are transmuted into self-contained practices, lacking further objectives. The original purposes are forgotten and close adherence to institutionally prescribed conduct becomes a matter of ritua1. 4 Sheer conformity becomes a central value. For a time, social stability is ensured-at the expense of flexibility. Since the range of alternative behaviors permitted by the culture is severely limited, there is little basis for adapting to new conditions. There develops a tradition-bound, 'sacred' society marked by neophobia. Behtveen these extreme types are societies which maintain a rough balance between emphases upon cultural goals and institutionalized practices, and these c~nstitute the integrated and relatively stable, though changing, societies. An effective equilibrium between these two phases of the social structure is maintained so long as satisfactions accrue to individuals conforming to both cultural constraints, viz., satisfactions from the achievement of goals and satisfactions emerging directly from the institutionally canalized modes of striving to attain tllem. It is reckoned in terms of the product and in terms of the process, in terms of the outcome and in terms of the activities. Thus continuing satisfactions must derive from sheer participation in a competitive order as well as from eclipsing one's comnptitnr<:: if thp nrrlpr it<::pjf i", +n. h", ... "n+":~ ....-l T£ ~~-
145
cern shifts exlusively to the outcome of competition, then those who erennially suffer defeat may, understandably enough, work for a ~hange in the rules of the game. The sacrifices oc~asion~lly~n~t, as ud assumed, invariably-entailed by conformIty to mstItutIOnal Fre rIDS must be compensated by socialized rewards. The d·Ism·b· ution 0 f ~t~tuses through competition must be so organized that positive in~~n lives for adherence to status obligations are provided fol' even) POSltl.OH within the distributive order. Otherwise, as will soon be~orne plam, aberrant behavior ensues. It is, indeed, my central hypotheSIS tha~ aber:rant behavior may be regarded sociologically as a symptom of dISSOCIation between culturally prescribed aspirations and socially structured avenues for realizing these aspirations. Of the types of societies that result from independent .vari~tion of cultural goals and institutionalized means, w~ shall be p.nmanly concerned with the first-a society in which there 15 an exceptionally strong emphasis upon specific goals without a corresponding em~hasis upon institutional procedures. If it is not to be misunderstood, tlus statement must be elaborated. No society lacks norms governing conduct. But societies do differ in the degree to which the folkways, mores and institutional controls are effectively integrated with the goals which stand hi?h in the hierarchy of cultural values. The culture may be such as to lead mdividuals to center their emotional convictions upon the complex of culturally acclaimed ends, with far less erno.tional su~port f~r prescribed methods of reaching out for these ends. WIth such dIfferenbal em~~ases upon goals and institutional procedures, ~he latter m~y b.e ~o vltia.ted by the stress on goals as to have the behavlOr ~f many m~lvIduals limited only by considerations of technical expedIency.. In tlus context, tl:e sole significant question becomes: "Which of the avaIlab~e procedur~s IS most efficient in netting the culturally approved value?:J The techrucally most effective procedure, whether culturally legitimate or not, b~ comes typically preferred to institutionally prescribed conduct. As thIS process of attenuation continues, the society becomes unstable and there develops what Durkheim called "anomie" (or normles~ness).6 . The working of this process eventuating in anomle can be e~s.dy glimpsed in a series of familiar and instructive, th~ugh p:rhap~ tnvwl, episodes. Thus, in competitive athletics, when the alm of VIctOry 15 ~h~rn of its institutional trappings and success becomes construed as Wlllning the game" rather than winning un.der ~~e rules of the ~ame," a premium is implicitly set upon the use of tllegltlmate ~ut techni~ayy efficient means. The star of the opposing football team IS surreptItlously slugged; the wrestler incapacitates. his opponent.t~ro~?h ingen~?us but illicit techniques; university alwnru covertly subSidIze students whose JI
."
r' _ .
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cl. __ LL1_L:_
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146
atte.n.uated ~h~ satisfactions deriving from sheer participation in the competitive actIvIty that only a successful outcome provides gratificatio Through the same process, tension generated by the desire to win inn. poker game is relieved by successfully dealing one's self four aces 0 fa when the cult of success has truly flowered, by sagaciously shufflin , the ~ards in a game of solitaire. The faint rnringe of uneasiness in th~ last mstance and the surreptitious nature of public delids indicate clearly that the institutional rules of the game are known to those who evade them. But cultural (or idiosyncratic) exaggeration of the success-goal leads men to withdraw emotional support from the rules? This ~rocess is. of course not restricted to the realm of competitive SpO.ft, which has SImply provided us with microcosmic images of the sO:Ial macrocos~. !he process whereby exaltation of the end generates ~ literal ~e11l0rallzatlOll, i.e., a de-institutionalization, of the means occurs ill many groups where the two components of the social structure are not highly integrated. ~onte.z:nporary American culture appears to approximate the polar typ~ ill which great emphasis upon certain success-goals occurs without eqUIvalent emphasis upon institutional means. It would of cOUrse be fanciful .to asse~t that accumulated wealth stands alone as a symbol of success just as It would be fanciful to deny that Americans assign it a place high in their scale of values. In some large measure, money has been consecrated as a value in itself, over and above its expenditure for ~rtides consu:nption or its use for the enhancement of power. ~foney IS peculIarly well adapted to become a symbol of prestige. As Smunel emphasized, money is highly abstract and impersonal. However acquired, fraudulently or institutionally, it can be used to purchase ~e s~me g?ods and services. The anonymity of an urban sOciety, in conJunction wlth these peculiarities of money, permits wealth, the sources of wh!ch may be unknown to the community in which the plutocrat lives or, if kn~wn, to become purified in the course of time, to serve as a symbol of high status. Moreover, in the American Dream there is no final sto~~ing point. ~e measure?f "monetary success" is conveniently indefirute and relatIve. At each mcome level, as H. E Clark found, Americans want just about twenty-five per cent more (but of course this "just a bit more" continues to operate once it is obtained). In this flux of shifting,standards, there is no stable resting point, or rather, it is the point ~VlllC~ manages always to be "just ahead." An observer of a community ID w1:uch annual salaries in six figures are not uncommon, reports the angUIshed words of one victim of the American Dream. "In this to'iNU I'm snubbed socially because I only get a thousand a week. That hurts."g To say that the goal of monetary success is entrenched in American culturejsnnlv"'()<;:::nrfJ~ .. f.I\~~-:--,-, , --
,?!
147
12. Robert re Merlon
Anomie
cepts which affirm the right or, often, the duty of retaining the goal pre I'n the face of repeated frustration. Prestigeful representatives of even . ' h d society reinforce the cultural emphaSIS. The family, the sc 001 an 1 t~ 1· the workplace-the major agencies shaping th~ perso~a Ity ~truc~ur~ and goal formation of .~e~cans~join to yr.ovlde the mtensIVe dl~CIlining required if an mdlvldualls to retam mtact a goal t~at remarns ~luSively beyond reach, if he is to be motivated by the pronuse of a gratification which is not redeemed. As we shall presently see, parents se~e a transmission belt for the values and goals of the groups of wluch ~ey are a part-above all, of their social class or of the class with which they identify themselves. And the schools are of course the official agency for the passing on of the prevailin!? valu:s, with a ~arge pr~p.or tion of the textbooks used in city schools lmplymg or stating explIcltly "that education leads to intelligence and consequently to job and money success."w Central to this process of disciplining people to maintain their unfulfilled aspirations are the cultural prototypes of succe:s, th.e living documents testifying that the American Dream can b~ realIZed If one but has the requisite abilities. Consider in this connection the following excerpts from the business journal, Nati~ll's Bllsiness, dra,:,n ~orn large amount of comparable materials found ID mass communIcatIons setting forth the values of business class culture. The DOCllmellt (Natioll's Business,
Its Sociological Implications
VD!. 27. No. 8, p.7) 'You have to be bom to those jobs, buddy, or else have a good pull.'
Here is a heretical opinion, possibly born of continued frustration, lvhich rejects the worth of retaining an apparently unrealizable goal and, moreover, questions the legitimacy of a social structure whidl provides differential access to this goaL
That's an old sedative to ambition.
The counter-attack, explicitly asserting the cultural value of retaining one's aspirations intact, of not losing "ambition."
Before listening 10 its seduction, ask these men:
A clear statement of the function to be served by the ensuing list of "successes." fhese men are living testimony that the soda! structure is such as to permit these aspirations to be achieved, if olle is worlily. And correlatively, failure 10 rp;1('h
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148
Anomie
12. Robert K. Merton
AggreSSion provoked by failure should therefore be directed inward and not outward, against oneself and not against a social structure which proVides free and equal access to opporhmity. Elmer R. Jones, president of Wells-Fargo and Co., who began life as a poor boy and left school at the fifth grade to take his first
Success prototype I: All may properly have the same lofty ambitions, for however lowly the starting-point, true talent can reach the very heights, Aspirations must be retained intact
Frank C. Ball, the Mason fruit jar king of America, who rode from Buffalo to Muncie, Indiana, in a boxcar along with his brother George's horse, to start a little business in Muncie that became the biggest of its kind.
Success prototype Whatever tile present results of one's strivings~ the future is large with promise; for the common man may yet become a lcit1g, Gratifications may seem forever deferred, but they will finally be realized as one's enterprise becomes "the biggest of its kind," .
J. 1.
Success prototype ill: If the secular trends of our economy seem to
job.
Bevan, president of the Illinois Central Railroad, who at tw-elve was a messenger boy in the freight office at New Orleans.
It:
give little scope to small business, than one may rise within the giant bureaucracies of private enterprise, If one can no longer be a king in a realm of his own creation, he may at least become a preSident in one of the economic democracies. No matter what one's present station, messenger boy or clerk, one's gaze should be fixed at the top.
From divers Sources there flows a continuing pressure to retain high ambition. The exhortationalliterature is immense, and one can choose only at the risk of seeming invidious. Consider only these: the Reverend Russell H. Conwell, with his Acres of Diamonds address heard and read by hundreds of thousands and his subsequent book, The New Day or Fresh Opportunities: A BookJar Young Mm,' Elbert Hubbard, who delivered the famous Message to Garcia at Chautauqua forums throughout the land; Orison Swett Marden, who, in a stream of books, first set forth The Secret of Ac!zieve11lent, praised by college presidents, than explained ~e process of Pushing to the Front, eulogized by President McKiriley and finally. these dpmnrr~tir tp<::tirnnn;:>l" .... nh";.J-h".j.~~,.l: ____ .1,1 + ____
149
toma k e Eveny Man a King. The symbolism of a commoner rising to, the the texture of the Amencan t t Of economic royalty is woven deep in esae ' 1 · · . th culture pattern, finding what is perhaps Its u hmate expressI~n l,~ e ds of one who knew whereof he spoke, Andrew Camegle: Be a wor If "M . at th.e t "'Il king in your dreams. Say to yourse, . y p 1ace IS Coupled with this posi~ve emphas,ls upon the oblig~ti.on to maIntain lofty goals is a cor~e.latIve emp~lasls upon the p.enaliz,~g of those who draw in their ambItions. Amencans are admOnIshed Not to be a uitter" for in the dictionary of American culture, as in the lexicon of q th "there is nO such word as 'faiL'" The culture manifesto is clear: you , . . . 1 one must not quit, must not cease stnvmg, must not lessen hIS goa s, . for "not failure, but low aim, is crime." Thus the culture enjoins the acceptance of three cultural axwms: First all should strive for the same lofty goals since these are open to all; seco~d present seeming failure is but a way-station to ultimate success; and tlilid, genuine failure consists only in the lessening or withdrawal of ambition. In rough psychological paraphrase, these axioms represent, first, a symbolic secondary reinforcement of incentive; seco~d, curb.jng the threatened extinction of a response through an aSSOCIated stImulus; third, increasing the motive-strength to evoke continued responses de. spite the continued absence of reward. . In sociological paraphrase, these aXIOms represent, first, the defle.ction of critidsm of the social structure onto one's sell among those so SItuated in the society that they do not have full and equal access to opportunity; second, the p~eservation of a structure of social power by having individuals in the lower social strata identify themselv.es, n~t with their compeers, but with those at the top (whom they wIll ultImately join); and third, providing pressures for conformity with the cultural dictates of unslackened ambition by the threat of less than full membership in the society for those who fail to conform. It is in these terms and through these processes that contemporary American culture continues to be characterized by a heavy emphasis on wealth as a basic symbol of success, without a corresponding emphasis upon the legitimate avenues on which to march toward this goaL How do individuals living in this cultural context respond? And how do our observations bear upon the doctrine that deviant behavior typically derives from biological im pulses breaking through the restraints imposed by culture? What, in short, are the consequences for the behavior of people valiously situated in a social structure of a culture in which the emphasiS on dominant success-goals has become increasingly separa~ed from an equivalent emphasiS on institutionalized procedures for seekmg
at
.
150
Anomie
TYPES OF INDIVIDUAL ADAPTATION ~urnin~ fr~n: these culture patterns, we now examine types of adapta_ tJonby mdlVlduals within the cultural-bearing society. Though our focus IS still the cultural and social genesis of varying rates and types of deVIant behavlOr, our perspective shifts from the plane of patterns of cultural values t? the, plane of tr?:s Of. adaptation to these values among those Occupymg different pOSItIons In the social structure. We here consider five types of adaptation, as these are schematical_ ly set out in the following table, where (+) signifies "acceptance," H SIgnifies "reJection," and (±) signifies "rejection of prevailing values and substitution of new values." E~an:n:ation of how the social Structure operates to exert pressure upon mdlvlduals for one or another of these alternative modes of behavior ~ust prefaced by the observation that people may shift from one ~lt~r:native to another as they engage in different spheres of social ac~VIties. These categories refer to role behavior in specific types of situatIOns, not to personality. They are types of more or less enduring response, r:ot ~es of personality organization. To consider these types of adaptation m several spheres of conduct would introduce a complexity unmanageable within the confines of this chapter. For this reason, we shall be primarily concerned with economic activity in the broad sense of "the production, exchange, distribution and consumption of goods and services" in Our competitive society, where wealth has taken on a highly symbolic cast. I. CONFORMITY To the extent that a society is stable, adaptation type I--conformity to both culhIral goals and institutionalized means-is the most common an~ Widely diffused. Were this not so, the stability and continuity of the SOCiety co:ud not b~ maint~ined. TIle mesh of expectancies constituting every sOClal order IS sustamed by the modal behavior of its members repres.enting conformity to the established, though perhaps secularly changmg, culture patterns. It is in fact, only because behavior is typically onented toward the baSIC values of the a society that we may speak of a human aggregate as comprising a society. Unless there is a deposit of values shared by interacting individuals, there exist social relations, if the disor~er1y interactions may be so called, but no SOciety. It is thus th~t, at mId-century, one may refer to a Society of Nations primarily as a figure of speech or as an imagined objective, but not as a SOciological reality.
12. Robert K. Merton
151
~ TYPOLOGY OF MODES OF INDlVlDUALAOAPTATlON 12 MODES OF ADAPTATION
I. Conformity
TI. Innovation
CULTURE GOALS
INSTITUTIONALiZED MEANS
+
+
... +
ill. RitualLsm IV. Retreatism V. Rebellion \3
±
±
Since our primary interest centers on the sources of deviallt behavior, and since we have briefly examined the mechanisms making for conformity as the modal response in American society, little more need be said regarding this type of adaptation, at this point.
H. INNOVATION Great cultural emphasis upon the success-goal invites this mode of adaptation through the use of institutionally proscribed but often effective means of attaining at least the simulacrum of success-wealth and power. This response occurs when the individual has assimilated the culture emphasis upon the goal without equally internalizing the institutional norms governing ways and means for its attainment. From the standpoint of psychology, great emotional investment in an objective may be expected to produce a readiness to take risks, and this attitude may be adopted by people in all social strata. From the standpoint of sociology, the question arises, which features of our social structure predispose toward this lype of adaptation, thus producing greater frequencies of deviant behavior in one social stratum than in another? On the top economic levels, the pressure toward innovation not infrequently erases the distinction between business-like strivings this side of the mores and sharp practices beyond the mores. As Veblen observed, JlIt is not easy in any given case-indeed it is at times impossible until the courts have spoken-to say whether it is an instance of praiseworthy salesmanship or a penHentiary offense." The history of the great American fortunes is threaded with strains toward institutionally dubi-
Anomie
153
12. Robert K Merton
The reluctant admiration often expressed pllvately, and not seldom publicly, of these "shrewd, smart and successful" men is a product of a cultural structure in which the sacrosanct goal virtually consecrates the means. This is no new phenomenon. Without assuming that Charles Dickens was a wholly accurate observer of the American scene and with full knowledge that he was anything but impartial, we cite his perceptive remarks on the American love of "smart" dealing; which gilds OVer many a swindle and gross breach of trust; many a defalcation, public and private; and enables many a knave to hold ills head up \vith the best, who well deserves a halter.... The merits of a broken speculation, or a bankruptcy;. or of a successful scoundrel, are not gauged by its or his observance of the golden rule, "Do as you would be done by," but are considered with reference to their smartness .... The following dialogue I have held a hundred times: "Is it not a very disgraceful circumstance that such a man as So-and-so should be acquiring a large property by the most infamous and odious means, and notwithstanding all the crimes of whidl he has been guilty, should be tolerated and abetted by your Citizens? He is a public nuisance, is he not?" "Yes, sir." A convicted liar?" "Yes, sir." "He has been kicked and cuffed, and caned?" "Yes, sir." "And he is utterly dishonorable, debased, and profligate?" "Yes, sir." "In the name of wonder, then, what is his merit?" "Well, sir, he is a smart man."
In this caricature of conflicting cultural values, Dickens was of course only one of many wits who mercilessly probed the consequences of the heavy emphasis on financial success. Native wits continued where alien wits left off. Artemus Ward satirized the cornmonplaces of American life until they seemed strangely incongruous. The "crackerbox philosophers," Bill Arp and Petroleum Volcano [later Vesuvius] Nasby, put wit in the service of iconoclasm, breaking the images of public figures with unconcealed pleasure. Josh Billings and his alter ego, Uncle Esek, made plain what many could not freely acknowledge, when he observed that satisfaction is relative since "most of the happiness in this world konsists in possessing what others kant git." All were engaged in exhibiting the social functions of tendentious wit, as this was later to be analyzed by Freud, in his monograph on Wit and Its Relation to tile Unconsciolls, using it as "a weapon of attack upon what is great, dignified and mighty, [upon] that which is shielded by internal hindrances or external circumstances against direct disparagement.. .. " But perhaps most in point here was the deployment of wit by Ambrose Bierce in a form which made it evident that wit had not cut away from its etymological origins and still meant the power by which one knows, learns, or thinks. In his characteristically ironical and deep-seeing essay on "crime and its correctives." Rjprrp hpo-inc;: urith tha ,."h".., ..,,~~;~_ ~I..._.J. _1_ IJC' _ _ ,
have long been debating the theory that. the imp~lse to ~ommit c~irne is a djsease, and the ayes appear to have It-the dIsease. Aft~r tIus p~e lude, he describes the ways in which the succe~sful rog~e achieves SOCIal legitimacy, and proceeds to anatomize the discrepanCIes between cultural values and social relations. The good American is, as ~ rule, preto/ hard on roguery, but he ato~e~ for his austerity by an amtable toleratIon of rogues. His o,r;JY reqUl~, ment is that he must personally know the rogues. We. all de~ounce thieves loudly enough if we have not the honor of t11elr acquamtance. If we have, why;. that is different-unless they have the ac~al odor of the slum or the prison about them. We .may l.mow them 8U:llty, but we meet them, shake hands with them, d~ .Wlth them and, If they hapen to be wealthy, or otherwise great, mVlte the~ to our hou~es, and ~eem it an honor to frequent theirs. We do not approv~ ~err methds"-let that be understood; and thereby they are suifrc,ent~y punThe notion that a knave cares a pin what is thought of his by one who is civil and friendly to himself appears to. have been mvented by a humorist. On the vaudeville stage of Mars It would probably have made his fortune. . . . [And again:] If social recogmtion were denred to rogues they would be fewer by many. Some would only ~he more diligently cover their tracks along the devious paths of ~nnghteousness, but oth~rs would do so much violence to their consclenc~s as to renounce the ~IS advantages of rascality for those of an honest life. An unworthy per;:>on dre~ds nothing so much as the withholding of an honest hand, the slow inevitable stroke of an ignoring eye. We have rich rogues because we have "respectable" ~ersons who are not ashamed to take them by the hand, to be seen WIUl tllem, to say that they know them. In such it is trea~ery. to censure them; to cry out when robbed by them is to turn state s eVldence.. . One may smile upon a rascal (most of use do m~y ti.mes a day) if one does not know him to be a rascal, and has not Sal? h: IS; but knowing him to be, or haVing said he is, to smile .upon h~ 15 to be a. hypocrite-just a plain hypocrite or a sycophantic hypocnte, accor?mg to the station in life of the rascal smiled upon. There are more pJam hypocrites than sycophantic ones for there are more rascals of no co~se quence than rich and distinguished ones, though they get fewer s~Jes each. The American people \viU be plundered as long as the Amen~an character is what it Ls; as long as it is tolerant of s:lc~ess!uJ knaves. as long as American ingenuity drat"s an jmag~ary dlstm~fjon beh:een a man's public character and his pdvat:-his commemaJ and hIS per~ sonaL In brief, the American people Will be plundered as long as the} desenre to be plundered. No human la\v can stop, none oU,?"h,t to sto~ it, for that would abrogate a higher and more salutary law: ~:; ye SOH, ye shall reap."H
~hed.
w~ys
Living in the age in which the American robber barons flourished, Bierce could not easily fail to observe what became later known as ..'
.....
r·.
154
12. Robert K. Merton
Anomie
larg~ and dramatic departures from institutional nOTInS in the top econom:c strata are Imowfl, and possibly fewer deviations among the lesser rruddle classes come to light. Sutherland has repeatedly docwnented the prevalence of "white-collar criminality" among business men. He notes, further, that many of these crimes were not prosecuted because they were not detected Of, if detected, because of lithe status of the busin~ss man, the trend away fr~m p~slunent, and the relatively unorgaruzed resentment of the publi.c agamst white-collar criminals. "15 A study of some 1,700 prevalently truddle-class individuals found that "off the rec?rd c~es" w~re common among wholly "respectable" members of SOCIety. Nmety-rune per cent of those questioned confessed to having committed one or more of 49 offenses under the penal law of the State of Ne~ York, each or these offenses being sufficiently serious to draw a maXIDlUm sentence of not less than one year. The mean number of offenses in adult years-this excludes all offenses committed before the age of sixteen-was 18 for men and 11 for women. Fully 64% of the men and 29% of the women acknowledged their guilt on one or more counts of felony w~ch, under the laws of New York is ground for depriving them of all nghts of citizenship. One keynote of these findings is expressed by a minister, referring to false statements he made about a commodity he sold, "I tried truth first, but it's not always successful." On the basis of these results, the authors modestly conclude that "the ~umber of acts legally constituting crimes are far in excess of those officIally reporte~. Unlawful behavior, fare from being an abnormal social or psychologIcal manifestation, is in truth a very common phenomenon."16 But whatever the differential rates of deviant behavior in the several social strata, and we know from many sources that the official crime statistics uniformly shOWing higher rates in the lower strata are far from complete or reliable, it appears from our analysis that the greatest pressures .toward deviation are. exer~ed upon the lower strata. Cases in point permIt us to detect the socIOLogIcal mechanisms involved in producing thes.e press~es. Several researches have shown that specialized areas of VIce and cnrne constitute a "normal" response to a situation where the cul~a1 ~mphasis upon pecuniary Success has been absorbed, but where there IS little access to c~nventional and legitimate means for becoming successful. The occupational opportunities of people in these areas are largely c~nfine~ to m~nu~ 1abor and the lesser white-collar jobs. Given the Ame~lcan stigmatization of manuallabor which has been found to hold ratJ~e~ 11l1iJomzly in all social classes,l? and the absence of realistic opportunities for advancement beyond this level, the result is a marked tendency toward deviant behavior. The status of unskilled labor and the consequent low income cannot readily comDete in term,.:; nF p~;-nhlic:l,or1
155
standards of worth with the promises of power and high income from orB ganized vice, rackets and crime.1 • ~. . • • . For our purposes, these situations exhibIt two sal1ent features. FIrst, incentives for success afe proVided by the established values of the culture and second, the avenues available for moving toward t~is go~] are largely limited by the class structure to those of d~viant behavlOr..It IS the combi11atioll of the cultural emphasis and the socIal structure which produces intense pressure for deviation. Recourse to legitimate .ch~nels for" getting in the money" is limited by a class stnlc~re WhICh ~s ~ot fully open at each level to men of good capacity.l9 DespIte our perSIstIng open-class-ideology,20 advance toward the success-goal is relativ.ely rare and notably difficult for those armed with little formal education and few economic resources. The dominant pressure leads toward the gradual attenuation of iegitmate, but by and large ineffectu~l, striving~ and the increasing use of illegitimate, but more Of less ~ectIve, expedIents. Of those located in the lower reaches of the SOCial structure, the culture makes incompatible demands. On the one hand, they are asked to orient their conduct toward the prospect of large wealth-"Every man a king," said Marden and Carnegie ~d Long-~d D.n ~e other, they are largely denied effective opporturu~es to d? so t~stItuhonally. ~he consequence of this structural inconsIstency IS a hIgh rate of devmnt behavior. The equilibrium between cultura~ly designat~d ends a~d. means becomes highly unstable with progreSSIve emphaSIS on attaInIng the prestige-laden ends by any means whats?ever: Within this context, Al Capone represents the triumph of amoral mtelligence over morally prescribed "failure," when the channels of vertical mobillty are. closed or narrowed in a society wllich places a hig!l premiulIl 011 eC0l10Il11C affluence 21 • • and social ascent for all its lIIembers. This last qualification is of central importance. It Imphe~ that other aspects of the social structure, besides the extreme emphaSIS on pec.uniary success, must be considered if we are to under~tand the s.ocl~1 sources of deviant behavior. A high frequency of deViant behavlOf IS not generated merely by lack of oppor~u~~ or by this exaggerated pecuniary emphasis. A comparatively ngldlfled cla.ss stru.cture, a .cas~e order, may limit opportunities far beyond the pomt whIch obtams In American society today- It is when a system of cultural values e~tols, virtually above all else, certain COli/mOll Sllccess-.goals for the populatlOl/ at large while the social stTucture rigorously restncts or completely closes access to approved modes of read1ing these goals for n considerable part of the same popUlation, that deviant behavio.f ensu.es o~ a ~arge scal~. Otherwise said our eaalitarian ideology derues by tm plICatIOn the eXIst~nce of non-co~petin; individuals and groups in the p~rsuit of pecumary __ • _____ T__ J. __ ...1 ~h,.,
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all. Goals are held to transcend class lines, not to be bounded by them, yet the actual social organization is such that there exist class differentials in accessibility of the goals. In this setting, a cardinal American virtue, "ambition," promotes a cardinal American vice, "deviant behavior." This theoretical analysis may help explain the varying correlations betvveen crime and poverty,22 "Poverty" is not an isolated variable which operates in precisely the same fashion wherever fOlUld; it is only one in a complex of identifiably interdependent social and cultural variables. Poverty as such and consequent limitation of opportunity are not enough to produce a conspicuously high rate of criminal behavior. Even the notorious "poverty in the midst of plenty" will not necessarily lead to this result. But when poverty and associated disadvantages in competing for the culture values approved for all members of the society are linked with a cultural emphasis on pecuniary success as a dominant goal, high rates of criminal behavior are the nonnal outcome. Thus, crude (and not necessarily reliable) crime statistics suggest that poverty is less hlghly correlated with crime in southeastern Europe than in the United States. The economic life-chances of the poor in these European areas would seem to be even less promising than in this country, so that neither poverty nor its association with limited opportunity is sufficient to account for the varying correlations. However, when we consider the full configuration-poverty, limited opportunity and the assignment of cultural goals-there appears some basis for explaining the higher correlation between poverty and crime in our society than in others where rigidified class structure is coupled with differential class symbols of success. The victims of this contradiction between the cultural emphasis on pecuniary ambition and the social bars to full opportunity are not always aware of the structural sotll'ces of their thwarted aspirations. To be sure, they are often aware of a discrepancy between individual worth the social rewards. But they do not necessarily see how this comes about. Those who do find its source in the social structure may become alienated from that structure and become ready candidates for Adaptation V (rebellion). But others, and this appears to include the great majority, may attribute their difficulties to more mystical and less sociological sources. For as the distinguished classicist and sociologist-in-spite-of himself, Gilbert Murray, has remarked in this general connection, "The best seed-ground for superstition is a society in which the fortunes of men seem to bear practically no relation to their merits and efforts. Astable and well-governed society does tend, speaking roughly, to ensure that the Virtuous and Industrious Apprentice shall succeed in life, while the Wicked and Idle Apprentice fails. And in such a society people tend to l::lV
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ciety suffering from anomie] ... , the ordinary virtues of diligence, honesty, and kindliness seem to be of little avail."23 And in such a society people tend to put stress on mysticism: the workings of Fortune, Chance, Luck. In point of fact, both the eminently "successful" and the eminently "unsuccessful" in our society not infrequently attribute the outcome to "luck." Thus, the prosperous man of business, Julius Rosenwald, declared that 95% of the great fortunes were "due to luck.":?4 And a leading business journal, in an editorial explaining the social benefits of great individual wealth, finds it necessary to supplement wisdom with luck as the factors accounting for great fortunes: "When one man through wise investments-aided, we'll grant, by good luck in many cases~accu mulates a few millions, he doesn't thereby take something from the rest of us."2.5 In much the same fashion, the worker often explains economic status in terms of chance. "The worker sees all about him experienced and skilled men ,vith no work to do. If he is in work, he feels lucky. If he is out of work, he is the victim of hard luck. He can see little relatioll be-
hveen worth and consequences. "26 But these references to the workings of chance and luck serve distinctive functions according to whether they are made by those who have reached or those who have not reached the culturally emphasized goals. For the successful, it is in psychological terms, a disarming expression of modesty. It is far removed from any semblance of conceit to say, in effect, that one was lucky rather than altogether deserving to one's good fortune. In sociological terms, the doctrine of luck as expounded by the successful serves the dual function of explaining the frequent discrepancy between merit and reward while keeping immune from criticism a social structure which allows this discrepancy to become frequent. For if success is primarily a matter of luck, if it is just in the blind nature of things, if it bloweth where it listeth and thou canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth, then surely it is beyond control and will occur in the same measure whatever tlte social stTllctlll'e. For the unsuccessful and particularly for those among the unsuccessful who find little reward for their merit and their effort, the doctrine oJ luck serves the psychological function of enabling them to preserve their self-esteem in the face of failure. It may also entail the dysfunction of curbing motivation for sustained endeavor,27 Sociologically, as implied by Bakke," the doctrine may reflect a failure to comprehend the workings of the social and economic system, and may be dysfunctional inasmuch as it eliminates the rationale of working for structural changes maldng for greater equities in opporhmity and reward. This orientation toward chance and risk-taking, accentuated by the ",-1-,..,,; ....... c C___ '--_.l._-l
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1 gambling-an institutionally proscribed or at best permitted rather than preferred or prescribed mode of activity-within certain social strata. 29 Among those who do not apply the doctrine of luck to the gulf behveen merit, effort and reward there may develop an individuated and cynical attitude towm'd the social structure, best exemplified in the cultural cliche that /lit's not what you know, but who you know, that counts." .In societies such as our OWll, then, the great cultural emphasis on pec:mxary success for all and a social structure which unduly limits practical recourse to approved means for many set up a tension toward innovative practices which depart from institutional norms. But this form of adaptation presupposes that individuals have been imperfectly socialized so that they abandon institutional means while retaining the success-aspiration. Among those who have fully internalized the institutional values, however, a comparable situation is more likely to lead to an alternative response in which the goal is abandoned but conformity to the mores persists. This type of response calls for further examination.
III. RITUALISM The ritualistic type of adaptation can be readily identified. It involves the abandoning or scaling down of the lofty cultural goals of great pecuruary success and rapid social mobility to the point where one's aspirations can be satisfied. But though one rejects the cultural obligation to attempt Uta get ahead in the world," though one draws in one's horizons, one continues to abide almost compulsively by institutional norms, It is something of a terminological quibbJe to ask whether this represents genuinely deviant behavior. Since the adaptation is, in effect, an internal decision and since the overt behavior is institutionally permitted, though not culturally preferred, it is not generally considered to represent a social problem. Intimates of individuals making this adaptation may pass judgment in terms of prevailing cultural emphases and may "feel sorry for them," they may, in the individual case, feel that "old Jonesy is certainly in a rut." Whether this is described as deviant behavior or no, it clearly represents a departure from the cultural model in which men are obliged to strive actively, preferably through institutionalized procedures, to move onward and upward in the social hierarchy. We should expect this type of adaptation to be fairly frequent in a soc~ety which makes one's social status largely dependent upon one's achievements, For, as has so often been observed,3ll this ceaseless COffi-
petitive struggle produces acute status an.-,(}~ty, ?ne device for allaying these anxieties is to lower one's level of aspIratIon-permanently. Fear "dt'31 produces inaction, or more accw:ate 1~r, r?uhruze a~ .wn:. . TIle syndrome of the social ntualist IS both fanuhar and mstructlVe. His implicit life-philosophy finds expression in a series of cultural cliches: "I'm not sticking my neck out," ''I'm playing safe/' ''I'm satisfied with what I've got," "Don't aim high and you won't be disappointed." The theme threaded through these attitudes is U,at high ambitions invite frustration and danger whereas lower aspirations produce satisfaction and security. It is a response to a situation which appears threatening and excites distrust. It is the attihIde implicit among workers who carefully regulate their output to a constant quota in an industrial organization where they have occasion to fear that they will "be noticed" by managerial personnel and II something will happen" if their output rises and falls." It is the perspective of the frightened employee, the zealously conformist bureaucra: in the teller'~ cage of the priv.ate3~an~~g enterprise or in the front office of the pubhc works ~nterpn~e. It 15, ID short, the mode of adaptation of individually seeking a pnvate escape from the dangers and frustrations which seem to them inherent in the competition for major cultural goals by abandoning the~e g~al~ and clinging all the more closely to the safe routines and the mstitutlOnal norms. If we should expect lower-dass Americans to exhibit Adaptation II"innovation"-to the frustrations enjoined by the prevailing emphaSiS on large cultural goals and the fact of small social opportunities, we should expect lower-middle class Americans to be heavily represented among those making Adaptation flritual~sm_" For it is in the low~r middle class that parents typically exert continuous pressure upon ch11dren to abide by the moral mandates of the society, and where the social climb upv.,rard is less likely to meet with success than among the upper midd1e class. The strong disciplining for conformity with mores reduces the likelihood of Adaptation [! and promotes the likelihood of Adaptation ill. The severe training leads many to carry a heavy burden of anxiety. The socialization patterns of the lower middle class thus p:omot.e the very character structure most predisposed toward ritulism,J" and It is in this stratum, accordingly, that the adaptive pattern III should most often occur.):;; But we should note again, as at the outset of this chapter, that "ve are here examining !!lOdes of ndnptntiOll to contradictions in the cultural and social structure: we are not focusing on character or personality types. Individuals caught up in these contradictions can and do move from one type of adaptation to another. TI1uS it may be conjectured that some
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1 steeped in the regulations that they become bureaucratic virtuosos, that they over-conform precisely because they are subject to guilt engendered by previous nonconfonnity with the rules (i.e"Adaptation IT), And the occasional passage from ritualistic adaptation to dramatic kinds of illicit adaptation is well-documented in clinical case-histories and often set forth in insightful fiction, Defiant outbreaks not infrequently follow upon prolonged periods of over-compliance, 36 But though the psychodynamic mechanisms of this type of adaptation have been fairly well identified and linked with patterns of discipline and socialization in the family, much sociological research is still required to explain why these patterns are presumably mare frequent in certain social strata and groups than in others. Our own discussion has merely set out one analytical framework for sociological research focused on this problem.
IV. RETREATISM Just as Adaptation I (conformity) remains the most frequent, Adaptation IV (the rejection of cultural goals and institutional means) is probably the least common, People who adapt (or maladapt) in this fashion are, strictly speaking, in the society but not of it. Sociologically, these constitute the true aliens. Not sharing the common frame of values, they can be included as members of the sociehj (in distinction from the population) only in a fictional sense. In this category fall some of the adaptive activities of psycho tics, autists l pariahs, outcasts, vagrants, vagabonds, tramps, chronic drunkards and drug addicts.'7 They have relinquished culturally prescribed goals and their behavior does not accord with institutional norms. This is not to say that in some cases the source of their mode of adaptation is not the very social structure which they have in effect repudiated nor that their very existence within an area does not constitute a problem for members of the SOciety. From the standpoint of its sources in the social structure, this mode of adaptation is most likely to occur when both the culture goals and the institutional practices have been thoroughly assimilated by the individual and imbued with affect and high value, but accessible institutional avenues are not productive of success. There results a t\¥ofold conflict: the interiorized moral obligation for adopting institutional means conflicts with pressures to resort to illicit means (which may attain the goal) and the individual is shut off from means which are both legitimate and effective. The competitive order is maintained but the frustrated and handicapped individual who cannot cope with this order drops out, Defeatism, quietism and resignation are mani fpd.:>r1 ;,.. " ...
, ' h ultimately lead him to "escape" from the recape mechanISms w~cty It is thus an expedient which arises from con· 1 b te itimate measures and from an uirements of the sooe. ~ued failure to n~ar tl~~:e rJute ~ecause of internalized prohibiinability to use the ill€?ll while tlie supreme value of the s!l~cess-goal has non, this process occl;r~lg conflict is resolved by abandonmg [Jotll preHot yet been rel101/HCe. 1e 1 d the means. The escape is complete, , lements the goa s an l' d cipitatiI1~ e. . . ' ated and the individual is asoda lze. " . the conflict IS elinun . tIif this type of deviant behavlOr 1S most a In publiC and ceremoru ;,'0 a1 representatives of the society. In demned by conven 1 n . ing heartily con nf ' t ha keeps the wheels of sOClety runn , contrast to the co onms , w liability. in contrast to the innovator ti this deviant is a non-pro d udc vte 1y stri~ing he seeS no value in the " mart" an ae l v e , I 'tu I who is at east 5 ul ' s SO highly' in contrast to t le n I hi 1 the c ture pnze ' . th SllccesS-goa w C1 1 t t the moreS, he pays scant attentlO n to e alist who conforms at eaS 0 institutional practice:, li htly accept these repudiations of its values. Nor does the sOClety g I into question Those who have Id be to put these va ues "h t To do so wou ss are relentlessly pursued to therr aun s abandoned the quest for succe. ll't members orient themselves to "stent upon havmg a 1 s tl b k . by a SOCiety m s t , f Chicago's Hobohemia are :le 00 .' Thus m the heart 0 , succeS5~StnVll1g. 'd· cl to revitalize dead aspirations. stalls filled with wares eSlgne . ' 1 € basement of art old residence, .built 111e Gold Coast Book Store 1S tn t ~andwiched between two busmess back from the str~ec~n~ ~o~led wilh stalls, and striking placardS blocks. The space m uon 15 and posters, , . 1 books as will arrest the attention of These posters advertise ~~~ ':",Men in thousands pass this spot the down-and~out. One rea. t financially successful. They are daily, but the majority ?f them hare dnoof the rent men. Instead ot that, ea " "Getting Ahead of the GamE', " never more t han t W o)umps8. d cl' they should be more bold an danntg'th'~m on the I'unk heap of htunan 'ther- them all t cas 5 ... ' before 0 Id age "\'lf1;:' l ' \ fate-the fate ofthe vasl ma)orwrecks. If you want to escape 1e eVi j'TI' Law 0' Fi!l(I11c1fl/ SI/ccess, It 'andgetacopyo ~ ity of men-corne 1.n <. I d andIt put you on the lugIu-oa dt a will put some ne\\' tdeas tn your 1ea , success, 35 cents. I 't ring bdore its stalls. But they seldom JB There i'Jre alway~ ~\Cn ,Ol e t thirty~five ceols, to the hobo. buy. Success comes hlg 1, €\ en a
" d' real life, he may become a source But if this deVIant 1S cor:demne ~ diner has advanced the specuof gratification in. fantasy-lIfe. ~:s or:r 1 folU;re and popular culture lation that such hgures ID cont b ~ s~ectade of men rejecting current bolster "morale and self-esteem t~ " The prototype in the films is ideals and expressing contempt or em.
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and provision would be made for a closer correspondence between
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merit, effort and reward. . But before exanUning "rebellion" as a mode of adaptation, we must distino-uish it from a superficially similar but essentially di!ferent type, SSell~7IleHt. Introduced in a special teclmical sense, by NIetzsche, the :~ncept of reSSel1tilllC11t was tal<en up and devel~ped sOci.ologicaIly by Max Scheler:wThis complex sentiment has three mterlockmg eleme~ts. First, diffuse feelings of hate, envy and hostility; second, a sense of be~g owerless to express these feelings actively against the person or SOCIal ~tratwn evoking them; and third, a continual re-experiencing,of this impotent hostility.M The essential point distinguishi~g rcsscl1tlll!Cnt from rebellion is that the former does not involve a ger:wne change m values. Rcssenti1llellt involves a sour-grapes pattern which asserts merely .that desired but unattainable objectives do not actually embody the pnzed values-after ali, the fox in the fable does not say that he abandons all taste for sweet grapes; he says only that these particular grapes are not sweet. Rebellion, on the other hand, involves a genuine transvaluation, where the direct or vicarious experience of frustration leads to full denlmciation of previously prized values-the rebellious fox ~imply renounces the prevailing taste for sweet grapes. In ressentllllCJ1t, one condemns what one secretly craves; in rebellion, one condemns the craving itself. But though the two are distinct, organized rebellio~ m.ay ~raw upon a vast reservoir of the resentful and discontented as mshtutional dislocations become acute. When the institutional system is regarded as the barrier to the satisfaction of legitimized goals, the stage is set for rebellion as an adaptive response. To pass into organized political action, allegiance must not anI y be withdrawn from the prevailing social structure but must be 42 transferred to new groups possessed of a new myth. The dual function of the myth is to locate tlle source of large-scale frust:ations in the social structure and to portray an alternative structure whIch would not, presumably, give rise to frustration of the deserving. It is a charter for action. In this context, the functions of the counter-myth of the conservatives-briefly sketched in an earlier section of this chapterbecome further clarified: whatever the source of mass frustration, it is not to be found in tlle basic structure of the society. The conservative myth may thus assert that these frustrations are in the nature of things and would occur in allY social system: "Periodic mass unemployment and business depressions can't be legislated out of existence; it's just like a person who feels good one day and bad the next."43 ~r, if no~ the doctrine of inevitability, then the doctrine of gradual and slight adJustment: "A few changes here and there, and we'll have things running as
is !vIr. Nobody and is very much aware of his own significance. He always the butt of a crazy and bewildering world in which he has no place and from which he constantly runs away into a contented donot~gness. He isfree from cOlifIict beemlse Ire !/as abulldoned the quest for SeClt rlty alld prestige, alld is resigned to the lack of allY claim to virtuE or distillctiOll. [A precise characterological portrait of Adaptation IV] He always becomes involved in the world by accident. There he encounters evil and aggression against the weak and helpless which he has no power to combat. Yet always, in spite of himself, he becomes the champ~o~ of ~~ wronged ~nd oppressed, not by virtue of his great organlzmg abIlity but bYV1rtue of homely and insolent trickiness by which he seeks out the weakness of the wrongdoer. He always remains humble, poor, ~nd lonely, but is contemptuous of the incomprehensible world and Its values. He therefore represents the character of our time wh? is pelple~ed by tlle dilemma either of beillg crushed in tile stmggIe to ac!l1f?'"ve !hc SOCially approved goals of sl/ccess and power (he achieves it only o-?ce-m The Gold Rush) or of slIccumbil1g to n hopeless resignation aJld flight from them. Charlie's bum is a great comfort in that he gloats in his ability to outwit the pernicious forces aligned against him if he chooses to do so and affords every man U1e satisfaction of feeling that the ultimate flight from social goals to loneliness is an act of cllOice and not a symptom of his defeat. Mickey Mouse is a continuation of the Chaplin
saga.39
This fourth mode of adaptation, then, is that of the socially disinherited who if they have none of the rewards held out by society also have few of the frustrations attendant upon continuing to seek these rewards. It is, moreover, a privatized rather than a collective mode of adaptation. Although people exhibiting this deviant behavior may gravitate towards centers where they come into contact with the other deviants and although they may come to share in the subculture of these deviant groups, their adaptations are largely private and isolated rather than unified under the aegis of a new cultural code. The type of collective adaptation remains to be considered.
V. REBELLION This adaptation leads men outside the environing social structure to envisage and seek to bring into being a new, that is to say, a greatly modified social structure. It presupposes alienation from reigning goals and standards. These come to be regarded as purely arbitrary. And the arbitrary is precisely that which can neither exact allegiance nor possess legitimacy, for it might as well be otherwise. In our society, organized movements for rebellion apparently aim to introduce a social structure in which the cultural standards of success would be sharply modified
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ship-shape as they can possibly be." Or, the doctrine which deflects hostility from the social structure onto the individual who is a "failure"
165
But the central tendencies toward anomie remain, and it is to these that the analytical scheme here set forth calls particular attention.
since "every man really gets what's coming to him in this counhy"
The myths of rebellion and of conservatism both work toward a "monopoly of tile imagination" seeking to define the situation in such terms as to move the frustrate toward or away from Adaptation V. It is above all the renegade who, though himself successful, renounces the preva~ing val~es that becomes the target of greatest hostility among those m rebellion. For he not only puts the values in question, as does the outgroup, but he signifies that the unity of the group is broken:14 Yet, as has so often been noted, it is typically members of a rising class rather than the most depressed strata who organize the resentful and the rebellious into a revolutionary group.
THE STRAIN TOWARD ANOMIE The social structure we have examined produces a strain toward anomie an? devi~lt behavi~r. The pressure of such a social order is upon outdo~? one ~ competitors. So long as the sentiments supporting this competItIve system are distributed throughout the entire range of activities and are not confined to the final result of "success," the choice of means will remain largely within the ambit of institutional control. When, however, th~ .cul~al emphasis shifts from the salisfactions deriving from competItIon Itself to almost exclusive concern with the outcome, the resultant stress makes for the breakdown of the regulatory structure. With this atte~ua~on of institutional controls, there occurs an approximation to ~e sItuation erroneously held by the utilitarian philosophers to be typICal of socie~, a situation in which calculations of personal advantage and fear of purushment are the only regulating agencies. . This strain toward anomie does not operate evenly throughout the soclety. Some effort has been made in the present analysis to suggest the strata most vulnerable to the pressures for deviant behavior and to set forth some of the mechanisms operating to produce those pressures. For purposes of simplifying the problem, monetary success was taken as the. major cult~ral goal, although there are, of course, alternative goals ill the reposItory of common values. The realms of intellectual and artis:ic achievement, for example, provide alternative career patterns whIch may not entail large pecuniary rewards. To the extent that the cultural structure attaches prestige to these alternatives and the social structure permits access to them, the system is somewhat stabilized. Potential deviants may still conform in terms of these auxiliary __ __ £ •• _1 •• __ ~
THE ROLE OF THE FAMILY A final word should be said drawing together the implications scattered throughout the foregoing discussion concerning the role played by the fa.n1ily in these patterns of deviant behavior. It is the family, of course, which is a major transmission belt for the diffusion of cultural standards to the oncoming generation. But what has until lately been overlooked is that the family largely transmits that portion of the culture accessible to ~he social stratum and. groups .in which the parents find themselves. It IS, therefore, a mechamsm for dISciplining the child in terms of the cultural goals and mores characteristic of this narrow range of groups. Nor is the socialization confined to direct training the disciplining. The process is, at least in part, inadvertent. Quite apart from direct admonitions, rewards and punislunents, the child is exposed to social prototypes in the witnessed daily behavior and casual conversations of parents. Not infrequently, childrCll detect l1J1d
incorporate cultllral 11llifol1llities even when these remain implicit a11d have Hot been reduced to rules.
Language patterns provide the most impressive evidence, r~a~ily observable in clinical fashion, that cluldren, in the process of socIa11zation, detect uniformities which have not been explicitly formulated for them by elders or contemporaries and which are not formulated by the children themselves. Persistent errors of language among children are most instructive. Thus, the child will spontaneously use such words as "mouses" or "moneys," eVe1! fllDllgh he lms never heard sHch tenlls or been taught "the rllle forfofllliJlg plurals." Or he will create such words as "falled," "runned," "singed," "hitted," though he has not been taught, at the age of three, "rules" of conjugation. Or, he will refer to a choice morsel as gooder" than another less favored, or perhaps through a logical extension, he may describe it as "good est" of all. Obviously, he has detected the implicit paradigms for the expression of plurality, for the conjugation of verbs, ~d the inflection of adjectives. The very ~nature of his error and misapplication of the paradigm testifies to this.-b It may be tentatively inferred, therefore, that he is also busily engaged in detecting and acting UpOIl the implicit paradigms of cultural evaluJI
ation, and categorization of people and tTljUgS, and the formation of estimable goals as well as assimilating the explicit cultural orientation set forth in an endless stream of commands, explanations and exhortations by parpnts. Tt would appear that in addition to the important researches of the
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depth psychologies on the socialization process, there is need for sup- ' plementary types of direct observation of culture diffusion within the family. It may well be that the child retains the implicit paradigm of cultural values detected in the day-by-day behavior of his parents even when this conflicts with their explicit advice and exhortations. TIle projection a/parental ambitio1Is onto the child is also centrally relevant to the subject in hand. As is well known, many parents confronted with personal "failure" or limited "success" may mute their original goal-emphasis and may defer further efforts to reach the goal, attempting to reach it vicariously through their children. "The influence may come through the mother or the father. Often it is the case of a parent who hopes that the child will attain heights that he or she failed to attam."'16 In a recent research on the social organization of public housing developments, we have found among both Negroes and Whites on lower occupational levels, a substantial proportion having aspirations for a professional career for their children.47 Should this finding be confirmed by further research it will have large bearing upon the problem in hand. For if compensatory projection of parental ambition onto children is widespread, then it is precisely those parents least able to provide free access to opportunity for their children-the "failures" and "frustrates"-who exert great pressure upon their children for high achievement. And this syndrome of lofty aspirations and limited realistic opportunities, as we have seen, is precisely the pattern which invites deviant behavior. This clearly points to the need for investigation focused upon occupational goal-formation in the several social strata if the inadvertent role of family disciplining in deviant behavior is to be understood from the perspectives of OUI analytical scheme.
CONCLUDING REMARKS It should be apparent that the foregoing discussion is not pitched on a moralistic plane. Whatever the sentiments of the reader concerning the moral desirability of coordinating the goals-and-means phases of the social structure, it is clear that imperfect coordination of the hvo leads to anomie. In so far as one of the most general functions of social structure is to provide a basis for predictability and regularity of social behavior, it becomes increasingly limited in effectiveness as these elements of the social structure become dissociated. At the extreme, predictability is minimized and what may be properly called anomie or cultural chaos supervenes. This essay on the structural sources of deviant behavior remains hilt
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167
elements which predispose toward one rather than another of the alternative responses open to individuals living in an ill-balanced social structure; it has largely neglected but not denied the relevance of the social-psychological processes detennining the specific incidence of these responses; it has only briefly considered the social functions fulfilled by deviant behavior; it has not put the explanatory power of the analytical scheme to full empirical test by determining group variations in deviant and conformist behavior; it is only touched upon rebellious behavior which seeks to refasruon the social framework. It is suggested that these and related problems may be advantageously analyzed by use of this scheme.
NOTES 1.
2.
3.
See, for example, S. Freud, Civilization alld Its Discolltents (passim, and esp. at 63); Ernest Jones, Social Aspects of PsycJlOmwlysis (London, 1924), 28. If the Freudian notion is a variety of the "original sin" doctrine, then the interpretation advanced in this paper is a doctrine of "socially derived sin." "Normal" in the sense of the psychologically expect-able, if not culturally approved, response to determinate social conditions. This statement does not, of course, deny the role of biological and personality differences in fixing the incidence of deviant behavior. It is simply that this is not the problem considered here. It is in this same sense, I take it, that lames S. Plant speaks of the "nonnal reaction of normal people to abnormal conditions." See his Personality alld tfIe Cultural Pa/lefll (New York, 1937), 248. The position taken here has been perceptively described by Edwilrd Sapir. " ... problems of social science differ from problems of individual beJlavior in degree of specificity, not in kind. Every statement about behavior which throws the emphasis, explicitly or implicitly, on the actual, integral experiences of defined personalities or types of persomdilies is a datwu of psychology or psychiatry rather than of social science. Every statement about behavior ·which aims, not to be accurate about the behavior of an actual individuill or individuals or about the expected behavior of a physically and psychologically defined type of individual, but which abstracts from such behavior in order to bring out in clear relief certain expectancies with regard to those aspects of individual behavior ..vhieh various people share, as an interpersonal or 'social' pattern, is a datum, however crudely expressed, of social science." I haw here chosen the second perspective; although I shall have occasion to speak of attitudes, values and function, it will be from the standpOint of how the social structure promotes or inhibits their appearance in specified types of situations. Sce Sapir. "Why cultural anthropology needs the
168
Anomie
4.
This ritualism may be associated with a mythology which rationalizes these practices so that they appear to retain their status as means, but the dominant pressure is toward strict ritualistic conformity, irrespective of the mythology. Ritualism is thus most complete when such rationalizations are not even called forth. 5. In this connection, one sees the relevance of Elton Mayo's paraphrase of the title of Tawney's well-known book. "Actually the problem is I/Ot that of the sickness of all acquisitive society; it is tlwt of the acquisitiveness of a sick sociChj." HlIl1tnll Problems of all Itldllstrialized Civi/izatioll, 153. Mayo deals with the process through which wealth comes to be the basic symbol of so~al achievement and sees this as arising from a state of anamie. My major concern here is with the social consequences of a heavy emphasis upon monetary success as a goal in a society which has nol adapted its structure to the implications of this emphasis. A complete analysis would require the simultaneous examination of both processes. 6. Durkheim's resurrection of the term "anomie" which, so far as I know, first appears in approximately the same sense in the late sixteenth century, might well become the object of an investigation by a student interested in the historical filiation of ideas. Like the term "climate of opinion" brought into academic and political popularity by A. N. Whitehead three centuries after it was coined by Joseph Glanvill, the word "anomie" (or anomy or anomia) has lately come into frequent use, once it was re-introduced by Durkheim. Why the resonance in contemporary society? For a magnificent model of the type of research required by questions of tltis order, see Leo Spitzer, Milieu alld Ambiance: an essay in historical semantics," PltilosopllY and P/ze1lomeltoiogical Research, 1942,3,1--42,169-218. 7. It appears unlikely that cttlhual norms, once interiorized, are wholly eliminated. Whatever residuum perSists will induce personality tensions and conflict, with some measure of ambivalence. A manifest rejection of the once-incorporated institutional nonns will be coupled with some latent retention of their emotional correlates. Guilt feelings, a sense of sin, pangs of conscience are diverse terms referring to this unrelieved tension. Symbolic adherence to the nominally repudiated values or rationalizations for the rejection of these values constitute a more subtle expression of these tensions. B. "Many," not all, unintegrated groups, for the reason mentioned earlier. In groups where the primary emphasis shifts to institutional means, the outcome is nonnally a type of ritualism rather than anomie. 9. Leo C. Rosten, Hollywood (New York), 1940, 40. 10. Malcolrn S. MacLean, Scholars, Workers alld GeHtlemen (Harvard University Press, 1938), 29. 11. Cf A. W. Griswold, Tlle American Cult of Success (Yale University doctoral dissertation, 1933); R. O. Carlson, "Persollality Schools": A Sociological Analysis (Columbia University Master's Essay, 1948). 12. There is no lack of typologies of alternative modes of response to frustrating conditions. Freud, in his Civilization alld Its Discontents (p. 30 ff.) ~
•• __ l; _____ . ..:1 __ ' ___ " ___ '
169
12. Robert K Merton
l'
r.
..,~.
••
.
•
..
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be fotmd in Karen Homey, Neurotic Personalih) of Our Time (New York, 1937); S. Rosenzweig, "TI1e experimental measurement of types of reaction lo frustration," in H. A. Murray ct al., Explorations ill PCl'sol1alih) (New York, 1938). 585-99; and in the work of John Dollard, Harold Lasswell, Abram Kardiner, Erich Fromm. Butparticularly in the strictly Freudian typology, the perspective is that of types of individual respons-
es, quite apart from the place of the individual within the social structure. Despite her consistent concern with "culture," for example, Homey does not explore differences in the impact of this culture upon farmer, worker and businessman, upon lower-, middle-, and upper-class individuals, upon members of various ethnic and racial groups, etc. As a result, the role of "inconsistencies in culture" is 1lot located in its differential impact upon diversely situated groups. Culture becomes a kind of blanket covering all members of the society equally, apart from their idiosyncratic differences of life-history. It is a primary assumption of our typology that these responses occur with different frequency within various sub-groups in our society precisely because members of these groups or strata are differentially subject to cultural stimulation and social restraints. This sociological orientation will be found in the writings of Dollard and, less systematically, in the work of Fromrn, Kardiner and Lasswell. On the general point, see note 3 of this chapter. 13. This fifth alternative is on a plane clearly different from that of the others. It represents a transitional response seeking to illstitutiol1alize new goals and new procedures to be shared by other members of the society. It thus refers to efforts to cl1nl1ge the existing cultural and social structure rather than to accommodate efforts within this structure. 14. The observations by Dickens are from his American Notes (in the edition, for example, publiShed in Boston: Books, Inc., 1940), 218. A sociological analysiS which would be the formal, albeit inevitably lesser, counterpart of Frued's psycholOgical analysis of the functions of tendentious wit and of tendentious wits is long overdue. The doctoral dissertation by Jeannette Tandy, though not sociological in character, affords one point of departure: Crackcl'box Philosophers: American Ht/mol' alld Satire (New York: Columbia University Press, 1925). In Chapter V of Intellectual America (New York: Macmillan, 1941), appropriately entitled, "TI1e Intelligentsia," Oscar Cargill has some compact observations on the role of the nineteenth century masters of American wit, but this naturally has only a small place in this large book on the "march of American ideas." The essay by Bierce from which I have quoted at such length will be found in The Collected Works of A11lbrosc Bierce (New York and Washington: The Neale Publishing Company, 1912), volume XI, 187-198. For what it is worth, I must differ with the harsh and far from justified judgment of Cargill on Bierce. It seems to be less a judgment than the expression of a prejudice which, in Bierce's own understanding of "prejudice," is only "a vagrant opinion without visible means of support." 15. E. H. Sutherland, "White collar criminality," op. cif.; "Crime and busi~ ",.~
... ... ~
170
Anomie
12. Robert K. Merton
112-118; "Is 'white collar crime' crime?", American Socioloo-ical Review
22.
1945, ID, 132-139; MarshalI B. CUnard, The Black Market:;: Study ofW,lite Collar Criml! (New York: Rinehart & Co., 1952); Donald R. Cressey, Ot/lcr People's Money: A Study in the Social Psycl/Ologzj of Embezzlemeltt (Glencoe:
The Free Press, 1953). James S. Wallerstein and Clement J. Wyle, "Our law-abiding law-breakers," Probation, April, 1947. 17. National Opinion Research Center, NntiOlwl Opinion all Occupatiolls, April, 1947. This research on the ranking and evaluation of ninety occupations by a nation-wide sample presents a series of important empirical data. Of great significance is their finding that, despite a slight tendency for people to rank their own and related occupations higher than do other groups, there is substantial agreement in ranking of occupations among all occupational strata. More researchers of this kind are needed to map the cultural topography of contemporary societies. (See the comparative study of prestige accorded major occupations in six industrialized countries: Alex Inkeles and Peter H. Rossi, "National comparisons of occupational prestige," Americall JOl/mal of Sociology, 1956,61,
16.
329-339).
18.
19.
See Joseph D. Lohrnan, "The participant observer in community studies," American Sociological Review, 1937,2,890-98 and William F. Whyte, Street Comer Society (Chicago, 1943). Note Whyte's conclusions: "It is difficult for the Cornerville man to get onto the ladder [of success], even on the bottom rung .... He is an Italian, and the Italians are looked upon by upper-class people as among the least desirable of the immigrant peopies ... the sodety holds out attractive rewards in tenns of money and material possessions to the "successful' man. For most Cornerville people these rewards are available only through advancement in the world of rackets and politics." (273-74) Numerous studies have found that the educational pyramid operates to keep a large proportion of unquestionably able but economically disadvantaged youth from obtaining higher fonnaI education. This fact about our class Structure has been noted with dismay, for example, by Vannevar Bush in his governmental report, Sciellce: The Endless Frontier. Also, see W. L. Warner, R.]. Havighurst and M.B. Loeb, Who Shall be Educated?
23.
24.
25. 26.
27.
28.
(New York, 1944).
20.
The shifting historical role of his ideology is a profitable subject for exploration. 21. The role of the Negro in this connection raises almost as many theoretical as practical questions. It has been reported that large segments of the Negro population have assimilated the dominant caste's values of pecuniary success and social advancement, but have "realistically adjusted" themselves to the "fact" that social ascent is presently confined almost entirely to movement within the caste. See Dollard, Caste alld Class ill a SOil them Town, 66 ft.; Donald Young, American Minority Peoples, 581; Robert A. Warner, New Haven Negroes (New Haven, 1940), 234. See also thp.
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29.
30.
This analytical scheme may serve to resolve some of the apparent inconsistencies in the relation between crime and economic status mentioned by P.A. Sorokin. For example, he notes that "not everywhere nor always do the poor show a greater proportion of crime ... many poorer counlnes have had less crime than the richer countries .... The economic improvement in the second half of the nineteenth century, and the beginning of the twentieth, has not been followed by a decrease in crime." See his Contemporary Sociological Theories (New York, 1928), 560-61. The crucial point is, however, that low economic status plays. a differe~t dynamic role in different social and cultural structures, as IS set out ill the text. One should not, therefore, expect a linear correlation between crime and poverty. Gilbert Murray, Five Stages of Greek Religion (New York, 1925), 164--5. Professor Murray's chapter on "The Failure of Nerve," from which I have taken this excerpt, must surely be ranked among the most civilized and perceptive sociological analyses in our time. . See the quotation from an interview cited in Gustavus Meyers, HIstory of the Great Americmt Forhllles (New York, 1937), 706. Natioll's Bllsiness, Vol. 27, No. 9, pp. 8-9. E.W. Bakke, The Unemployable Mall (New York, 1934). p. 14 (I have supplied the emphasis). Bakke hints at the structural sources making for a belief in luck among workers. "There is a measure of hopelessness in the sihlation when a man knows that most of his good or ill fortune is out of his own COJltrol and depends Oil luck." (Emphasis supplied). In so far as he is forced to accommodate himself to occasionally unpredictable decisions of management, the worker is subject to job insecurities and anxieties: another "seed-ground" for belief in destiny, fate, chance. It would be instructive to learn if such beliefs become lessened where workers' organizations reduce the probability that their occupational fate will be out of their own hands. At its extreme, it may invite resignation and routinized activity (Adaptation ill) or a fatalistic passivism (Adaptation IV), of which more presently. Bakke, op. cit. 14, where he suggests that "the worker knows less about the processes which cause him to succeed or have no chance to succeed Ulan business or professional people. There are more points, therefore, at which events appear to have their incidence in good or ill luck." Cf R. A. Warner, New Havell Negroes and Harold F. Gosnell, Negro Politicialls (Chicago, 1935), 123-5, both of whom comment in this general connection on the great interests in 'playing the numbers" among less-advantaged Negroes. See, for example, H. S. Sullivan, "Modem conceptions of psychiatry," Psychiatry, 1940,3, 111-12; Margaret Mead,AJJd Keep Your Powder On) (New York, 1942), Chapter VII; Merton, Fiske and Curtis, Mass PerslIaSiOll,
31.
171
59-{iO.
.. .....
.
P. Janet, liThe fear of action," Joumal of AbnonJlal Psychology, 1921, 16, ,. " "'-' ,. ~
172
Anomie
12. Robed K. Merton
justments: adaptive regression," op. cif., which bears closely on the type of adaptation examined here. 32. F.]. Roethlisberger and W. J. Dickson, Management aIld the Workel~ Chap~ !'~r 18 and 531 ff.; and on the more general theme, the typically perspicaClOUS remarks of Gilbert Murray, op. cif., 138-39. 33. See the three following chapters [in Merton's Social Theory alld Social StTllctllrcj.
34.
See, for example, Allison Davis and John Dollard, Children afBondage (Washington, 1940), Chapter 12 ("Child Tmining and Class"), which, though it deals with the lower- and lower-middle dass patterns of socialization among Negroes in the Far South, appears applicable, with slight modification, to the white population as well. On this, see further M. C. Eridcson, "Child-rearing and social status," AmericaJl JOllnInl afSociology, 1946,53, 190-92; Allison Davis and R. J. Havighurst, "Social class and calor differences in child-rearing," American Sociological Review, 1946, 11, 698~71O: " ... the pivotal meaning of social class to students of human deveJopment is that it defines and systematizes different Jearning environments for children of different classes." "Generalizing from the evidence presented in the tables, we would say that middle-dass children [the au~ thors do not distinguish betvveen lower-middle and upper-middle strata] are subjected earlier and more consistently to the influences which make a child an orderly, conscientious, responsible, and tame person. In the course of this training middle-class children probably suffer more frustra tion of their impulses." 35. The hypothesis still awaits empirical test. Beginnings in this direction have been made with the "level of aspiration" experiments which explore the determinants of goal-formation and modification in spedfic, experimentally devised activities. There is, however, a major obstacle, not yet surmounted, in drawing inferences from the laboratory situation, with its relatively slight ego-involvement with the casual task-penciland~paper mazes, ring-thrOWing, arithmetical problems, etc.-which will be applicable to the strong emotional investment with success-goals in the routines of everyday life. Nor have these experiments, with their ad hoc group formations, been able to reproduce the acute social pressures obtaining in daily life. (What laboratory experiment reproduces, for example, the querulous nagging of a modem Xantippe: "The trouble with you is, you've got no ambition; a real man would go out and do things"? Among studies with a definite though limited relevance, see especially R. Gould, "Some sociological determinants of goal strivings," Joumal of Social Psychology, 1941, 13, 461-73; 1. Festinger, "Wish, expectation and group standards as factors influencing level of aspiration," Jounlal of Ab1Wl7lwl and Social Psychologtj, 1942, 37, 184-200. For a resume of researches, see Kurt Lewin et al., "Level of Aspiration," in J. McV. Htult, ed., Personality and tlte BelJavior Disorders (New York, 1944), I, Chap. 10. The conception of "success" as a ratio betvveen aspiration and achievement pursued systematically in the level-of~aspiration experi_ _ _ L_ J.._~
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173
the prevalence of tms conception among the thinkers of fourth century Greece. And in Sarior Resartlls, Carlyle observes that "happiness" (gratification) can be represented by a fraction in which the numerator repre~ sents achievement and the denominator, aspiration. Much the same notion is examined by William James (TIle Principles of Psychology [New York, 1902], 1,310). See also F. 1. Wells, op. cit., 879, and P.A. Sorokin, Social and Cultural Dy1lamics (New York, 1937), Ill, 161-164. The critical question is whether this familiar insight can be subjected to rigorous experimentation in which the contrived laboratory situation adequately re~ produces the salient aspects of the real-life situation or whether disciplined observation of routines of behavior in everyday life will prove the more productive methods of inquiry. 36. In her novel, The Bitter Box (New York, 1946), Eleanor Clark has portrayed this process with great sensitivity. The discussion by Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom (New York, 1941), 185-206, may be cited, without implying acceptance of his concept of "spontaneity" and "man's inherent tendency toward self~development." For an example of a sound sociological fonnulation: "As long as we assume ... that the anal character, as it is typical of the European lower middle class, is caused by certain early experiences in connection with defecation, we have hardly any data that lead us to understand why a specific class should have an anal social character. However, if we understand it as one form of relatedness to others, rooted in the character structure and resulting from the experi~ ences with the outside world, we have a key for lUlderstanding why the whole mode of life of the lower middle class, its narrowness, isolation, and hostility, made for the development of this kind of character struc~ ture." (293--4) For an example of a fonnulation stemming from a kind of latter~day benevolent anarchism here judged as dubious: " ... there are also certain psychological qualities inherent in man that need to be satis~ fied .... The most important seems to be the tendency to grow, to develop and realize potentialities which man has developed in the course of history-as, for instance, the faculty of creative and critical thinking .... It also seems that this general tendency to grow-which is the psychologi~ cal equivalent of the identical biological tendency-results in such spe~ cific tendencies as the desire for freedom and the hatred against oppression, since freedom is the fundamental condition for any growth." (287-ll8). 37. Obviously, this is an elliptical statement. These individuals may retain some orientation to the values of their own groupings within the larger society or, occasionally, to the values of the conventional society itself. They may, in other words, shift to other modes of adaptation. But Adaptation IV can be easily detected. Nels Anderson's account of the behavior and attitudes of the bum, for example, can readily be recast in tenns of our analytical scheme. See The Hobo (Chicago, 1923),93-98, et passim. 38. H.W. Zorbaugh, The Gold Coast and the 5111111 (Chicago, 1929), 108. 39. Abram Kardiner, The Psychological Frontiers of Society (New York, 1945), "l':::O 7(1 ('C .......... ].,,,<-oO' 0"" ....... 1'0,;)
174
40.
41.
42.
43. 44. 45.
Anomie
Max Scheler, L'/zolllllle dll resselltimcllt (Paris, n. d.). This essay first appeared in 1912; revised and completed, it was included in Sche1er's AblJalldhlllgell and AIlJsatze, appearing thereafter in his Vom Umsturz der Werle (1919). The last text was used for the French translation. It has had considerable influence.in varied intellectual circles. For an excellent and well-balanced discussion of Scheler's essay, indicating some of its limitations and biasses, the respects in which it prefigured Nazi conceptions, its anti-democratic orientation and, \vithal, its occasionally brilliant insights, see V. J. McGill, "Scheler's theory of sympathy and love." Pllilosophy and PhCllomellologicnl Research, 1942,2,273-91. For another critical account which properly criticizes Scheler's view that social structure plays only a secondary role in ressclltimellt, see Svend Ranulf, Moral Indig7lation and Middle-Class Psychology: A Sociological Study (Copenhagen, 1938),199-204. Scheler, op. cit., 55-56. No English word fully reproduces the complex of elements implied by the word resselltimcllt; its nearest approximation in Gennan would appear to be Groll. George S. Pettee, Tile Process of Revolution (New York, 1938), 8-24; see particularly his account of "monopoly of the imagination." R. S. and H. M. Lynd, Middletonm ill Tral1sition (New York, 1937), 408, for a series of culhrral cliches exemplifying the conservative myth. See the acute observations by George Sinunel, Sozjologie (Leipzig, 1908), 276-77. W. Stem, PsycllOlogy of Early Childhood (New York, 1924), 166, notes the fact of such errors (e.g., "drinked" for "drank"), but does not draw the inferences regarding the detection of implicit paradigms. H. A. Murray et al., Explorations ill Personality, 307. From a study of the social organization of planned communities by R. K. Merton, Patricia S. West and M. Jahoda, Patie1'l15 of Social Life.
13. Richard A. Clow
175
to consolidate them, a more adequate theory of deviant behavior may be constructed.
DIFFERENTIALS IN AVAILABILITY OF LEGITIMATE MEANS: THE THEORY OF ANOMIE The theory of anomie has undergone two major phases of development. Durkheirn first used the concept to explain deviant behavior. He focused on the way in which various social conditions lead to "overweening ambition," and how, in turn, unlimited aspirations ultimately produce a breakdown in regulatory norms. Robert 1<. Merton has systematized and extended the theory, directing attention to patterns of disjunction between culturally prescribed goals and socially organized access to them by legitimate means. In this paper, a third phase is outlined. An additional variable is incorporated in the developing scheme of anomie, namely, the concept of differentials iu nccess to success-goals by
illegitil1wte lJzeans. 4 PHASE I: UNLIMITED ASPIRATIONS AND THE BREAKDOWN OF REGULATORY NORMS
Reprinted from Richard A. Cloward, "lllegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behav-
In Durkheim's work, a basic distinction is made between "physical needs" and "moral needs." The importance of this distinction was heightened for Durkheim because he viewed physical needs as being regulated automatically by feahrres of man's organic sbucture. Nothing in the organic structure, however, is capable of regulating social desires; as Durkheim put it, man's "capacity for feeling is in itself an insatiable and bottomless abyss."5 If man is to function without "friction," "the passions must first be limited .... But since the individual has no way of limiling them, this must be done by some force exterior to him." Durkheim viewed the collective order as the external regulating force which defined and ordered the goals to which men should orient their behavior. If the collective order is disrupted or disturbed, however, men's aspirations may then rise, exceeding all possibilities of fulfillment. Under these condition, "de-regulation or anomy" ensues: "At the very moment when traditional rules have lost their authority, the richer prize offered these appetites stimulates them and makes them more exigent and impatient of control. The state of de-regulation or anomy is thus further heightened by passions being less disciplined precisely when they need more disciplining." Finally, pressures to\vard deviant behavior were said to develop when man's aspirations no longer
inr." Aml'riml1 Snrinlrwirnl RI'7Jit711. vol. 7.4 (Ami! '9.'i9\. nn.'fi4-17fi.
1Tl:lrrhorl
46. 47.
13 Illegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behavior RICHARD A. CLOWARD This paper l represents an attempt to consolidate two major sociological traditions of thought about the problem of deviant behavior. The first,
exemplified by the work of Emile Durkheim and Robert K. Merton, may be called the anomie tradition.' The second, illustrated principally by the studies of Clifford R. Shaw, Henry D. McKay, and Edwin H. Sutherland, may be called the "cultural transmission" and "differential association" tradition.3 Despite some reciprocal borrowing of ideas, these intellectual traditions developed more or less independently. By seeking
~ht:\
nno:;:o:;:jhilitipo:;: "f flllfillnwnl-
176
13. Richard A. Cloward
Anomie
Durkheim therefore turned to the question of when the regulatory functions of the collective order break down. Several such states where identified, including sudden depression, sudden prosperity, and rapid technological change. His object was to show how, under these conditions, men are led to aspire to goals extremely difficult if not impossible to attain. As Durkheim saw it, sudden depression results in deviant behavior because "something like a declassification occurs which suddenly casts certain individuals into a lower state than their previous one. Then they must reduce their requirements, restrain their needs, lealTI greater self-control.. .. But society cannot adjust them instanta-
neously to this new life and teach them to practice the increased self-repression to which they are unaccustomed. So they are not adjusted to the condition forced on them, and its very prospect is intolerable; hence the suffering which detaches them from a reduced existence even before they have made trial of it." Prosperity, according to Durkheim, could have much the same effect as depression, particularly if upward changes in economic conditions are abrupt. The very abruptness of these changes presumably heightens aspirations beyond possibility of fulfiIiment, and this too puts a strain on the regulatory apparatus of the society. According to Durkheim, "the sphere of trade and industry .. .is actually in a chronic state [of anomie]." Rapid teclmological developments and the existence of vast, unexploited markets excite the imagination with the seemingly limitless possibilities for the accumulation of wealth. As Durkheim said of the producer of goods, "now that he may assume to have almost the entire world as his customer, how could passions accept their former confinement in the face of such limitless prospects?" Continuing, Durkheim states that "such is the source of excitement predominating in this part of society.... Here the state of crisis and anomie [are] constant and, so to speak, normal. From top to bottom of the ladder, greed is aroused without knowing where to find ultimate foothold. Nothing can calm it, since its goal is far beyond all it can attain." In developing the theory, Durkheim characterized goals in the industrial society, and specified the way in which tmlimited aspirations are induced. He spoke of "dispositions ... so inbred that society has grown to accept them and is accustomed to think them normal," and he portrayed these "inbred dispositions": "It is everlastingly repeated that it is man's nature to be eternally dissatisfied, constantly to advance, without relief or rest, toward an indefinite goal, The longing for infinity is daily represented as a mark of moral distinction .... " And it was precisely these pressures to strive for "infinite" or "receding" goals, in Durkheim's view, that generate a breakdown in regulatory norms, for "when there is no other aim but to outstrip constantly the point arrived at, how painful to be thrown back!"
177
PHASE H: DISJUNCTION BETWEEN CULTURA.L GOALS AND SOCIALLY STRUCTURED OPPORTUNITY
Durldleim's description of the emergence of "ovenveerung ambition" and the subsequent breakdown of regulatory norms constitutes one of the links between his work and the later development of the theory by Robert K. Merton. In his classic essay, "Social Structure and Anomie," Merton suggests that goals and norms may vary independently of each other, and that this sometimes leads to malintegrated states. In his view, hIlo polar types of disjunction may occur; "There may develop a very heavy. at times a virtually exclusive, stress upon the value of particular goals, involving comparatively little concern with tl:e insti:utionally prescribed means of striving toward these goals .... This constitutes one type of malintegrated culture."D On the other hand, "A second polar type is found where activities originally conceived as instrumental are transmuted into self-contained practices, lacking further objectives .... Sheer confonnity becomes a central value." Merton notes that "behveen these extreme types are societies which maintain a rough balance between emphases upon cultural goals and institutionalized practices, ~nd these constitute the integrated and relatively stable, though changmg societies. " Having identified patterns of disjunction between goals and norms, Merton is enabled to define anomie more precisely: "Anomie [may be] conceived as a breakdown in the cultural structure, occurring parlicularly when there is an acute disjunction between cultural norms and goals and the socially structured capacities of members of the group to act in accord with them." Of the two kinds of malintegrated societies, Merton is primarily in~ terested in the one in which "tllere is an exceptionally strong emphasis upon specific goals without a corresponding emphasis upon institutional procedures." He states that attentuation between goals and norms, leading to anomie or "nonnlessness," comes about because men in such societies internalize an emphasis on common success-goals under con~ ditions of varying access to them. TIle essence of this hypothesis is cap~ tured in the following excerpt: "It is only when a system of cultural values extols, virtually above all else, certain C0711111011 success-goals for the population at larg-e while the social structure rigorously restricts or completely closes access to approved modes of reaching these goals for a considerable pnrt of the same populntioJl, that deviant behavior ensues on a large scale." The focus, in short, is on the way in which the soc~al stm~ ture puts a strain upon the cultural structure. Here one may pomt to dIverse structural differentials in access to culturally approved goals by J",,,itiITl;lt,,, ITlP::m<;!
for
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178
Anomie
and social class. Pressures for anomie or normlessness vary from one social position to another, depending on the nature of these differentials. fn summary, Merton extends the theory of anomie in two principal ways. He explicitly identifies types of anomic of rnalintegrated societies by focussing upon the relationship between cultural goals and norms. And, by directing attention to patterned differentials in the access to success-goals by legitimate means, he shows how the social structure exerts a strain upon the cultural structure, leading in turn to anomie Or nonnlessness. PHASE
Ill:
THE CONCEPT OF ILLEGITIMATE MEANS
Once :he processes generating differentials in pressures are identified, there IS then the question of how these pressures are resolved, or how men respond to them. In this connection, Merton enumerates five basic categori~s of behavior or role adaptations which are likely to emerge: c0r:t0rml~, innovation, ritualism, retreatism, and rebellion. These adaptations differ depending on the individual's acceptance or rejection of cultural goals, and depending on his adherence to or violation of institu~onal n~rm.s. Furthermore, Merton sees the distribution of these adaptatlOns prmClpally as the consequence of two variables: the relative extent ~f pressure, and values, particularly "internalized prohibitions," gove1nmg the use of various illegitimate means. It is a familiar sociological idea that values serve to order the choices of ~:viant (as well as conforming) adaptations which develop under condItions of stress. Comparative studies of eth~c groups, for example, have shown that some tend to engage in distinctive forms of deviance; thus Jews exhibit low rates of alcoholism and alcoholic pS,z'chos.es.7 Various investigators have suggested that the emphasis on rationality, fear of expressing aggression, and other alleged components of the "Jewish" value system constrain modes of deviance which involve "loss of control" over behavior.B In contrast, the Irish show a much higher rate of alcoholic deviance because, it has been argued, their cultural emphasis on masculinity encourages the excessive use of alcohol under conditions of strain. 9 .M~rton su~gests that differing rates of ritualistic and innovating behavlOr m the nuddle and lower classes result from differential emphases in socialization. The "rule-oriented" accent in middle-class socialization presumably disposes persons to handle stress by engaging in ritualistic rat~er t~an inn~vating beh~vior. The lower-class person, contrastingly, havmg mternalized less strmgent norms, can violate conventions with ~ess guilt a~d. ~nxiety.lO V~lues, in o.ther words, exercise a canalizing mf1~e~:e, ~~lrn:g the chOIce of deVIant adaptations for persons vari-
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Apart from both socially patterned pressures, which give rise to deviance, and from values, which determine choices of adaptations, a further variable should be taken into account: namely, differentials ill availabilitl) of illegitimate means. For example, the notion that innovating behavior may result from unfulfilled aspirations and imperfect socialization with respect to conventional norms implies that illegitimate meanS are freely available-as if the individual, having decided that "you can't make it legitimately," then simply turns to illegitimate means which are readily at hand whatever his pOSItion ill the SOCIal structure. However, these means may not be available. As noted above, the anomie theory assumes that conventional means are differentially distributed, that some individuals, because of their social position, enjoy certain advantages which are denied to others. Note, for example, variations in the degree to which members of various classes are fully exposed to and thus acquire the values, education, and skills will facilitate upward mobility. It should not be startling, therefore, to find similar variations in the availability of illegitimate means. Several sociologists have alluded to such variations vvithout explicitly incorporating this variable in a theory of deviant behavior. Sut~1er land, for example, writes that "an inclination to steal is not a sufficIent explanation of the genesiS of the professional thief."ll Moreover, "the person must be appreciated by the professional.thieves. He n:ust b~ ~p praised as having an adequate equipment of WIts, front, tallang-ability, honesty, reliability, nerve and determination." In short, "a person can be a professional thief only if he is recognized and received as such by other professional thieves." But recognition is not freely accorded: "Selection and tutelage are the two necessary elements in the process of acquiring recognition as a profeSSional thief.... A person cannot acquire recognition as a professional thief until he has had tutelage in professional theft, and tHtelage is given only to afew persons selected from tlze total population." Furthermore, the aspirant is judged by high standards of perfonnance, for only "a very small percentage of those who start on this process ever reach the stage of professional theft." The burden of these remarks-dealing with the processes of selection, induction, and assumption of full status in the criminal group-is that motivations or pressures toward deviance do not fully account for deviant behavior. The "self-made" thief-lacking knowledge of the ways of securing immunity from prosecution and similar techniques of defense-"wou~d quickly land in prison." Sutherland is in effect pointing to differentials ID access to the role of profeSSional thief. Although the cntena of selection are not altogether clear from his analysis, definite evaluative standards do appear to exist; depending on their content, certain categories of innhrinll;:il.:: lAln111rl hp nl:'lrpn :'It :l rii':::'I,hr:lnbO"P :lnri nthprc.:
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hp
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Anomie
The availability of illegitimate means, then, is controlled by various criteria in the same manner that has long been ascribed to conventional means. Both systems of opportunity are (1) limited, rather than infinitely available, and (2) differentially available depending on the location of persons in the social structure. When we employ the term "means;' whether legitimate or illegitimate, at least two things are implied: first, that there are appropriate learning environments for the acquisition of the values and skills associated with the performance of a particular role; and second, that the individual has opportunities to discharge the role once he has been prepared. The term subsumes, therefore, both Jeaming stmcttlres and opportunity structures. A case in point is recruitment and preparation for careers in the rackets. There are fertile criminal learning environments for the young in neighborhoods where the rackets flourish as stable, indigenous institutions. Because these environments afford integration of offenders of different ages, the young are exposed to "differential associations" which facilitate the acquisition of criminal values and skills. Yet preparation for the role may not insure that the individual will ever discharge it. For one thing, more youngsters may' be recruited into these patterns of differential association than can possibly be absorbed, following their "training," by the adult criminal structure. There may be a surplus of contenders for these elite positions, leading in turn to the necessity for criteria and mechanisms of selection. Hence a certain proportion of those who aspire may not be permitted to engage in the behavior for which they have been prepared. This illustration is similar in every respect, save for the route followed, to the case of those who seek careers in the sphere of legitimate business. Here, again, is the initial problem of securing access to appropriate learning environments, such as colleges and postgraduate schools of business. Having acquired the values and skills needed for a business career, graduates then face the problem of whether or not they can successfully discharge the roles for which they have been prepared. Formal training itself is not sufficient for occupational success, for many forces intervene to determine who shall succeed and fail in the competitive world of business and industry-as throughout the entire conventional occupational structure. This distinction between learning structures and opportunity structures was suggested some years ago by Sutherland. In 1944, he circulated an unpublished paper which briefly discusses the proposition that "criminal behavior is partially a function of opportunities to commit specific classes or crimes, such as embezzlement, bank burglary, or illicit f.h.-.. ......"'hl"...... ~, heterosexual intprcnl1ro::p "12 Hp rHrl nn~ nnHTom:l1" blro 11T"l
181
" ti" J " opportunity as a concept to be systematically incorpodifferen a S i n , ,,'_ rated in a theory of deviant behavlOr" Instead," he held that opporturu " is a necessary but not sufficient explanation of th.e. COmmlSSlOTI of ty " I t "srn"ce some persons who have opportunities to embezzle, cri.In1Ila aC s, . "t "ated engage in illicit heterosexual mtercourse or to COIDbecome m aXle , . . I "th " s do not do so . He also noted that the. differentia nutD ercnme . , 'a5SOr' " ti" n theory did not constitute a full explanation of crmunal ach\ Ity, oa 0 .,.' . ti' th t per f notwithstanding differential association, It 15 aXlOma c a , or,s who commit a specific crime must have the opportunity to COmmIt ~~~t crime." He therefore concluded that J~while opportunity may be artially a function of association with crimrnal ~attern~ and. of the spep li eec d t hniques thus acquired, it is /lot detemttlled ellttl'cly 1I1 that IIlmloaz . '15 not t1le su ff""t dy differential association lCIen cause ner, and consequen u . .. of criminal behavior." (emphasis not In ongmal) . In Sutherland's statements, two meanings are attrIbuted to the term "opportunity." As suggested above, it may be useful to separate these ,for analytical purposes. In the first sense, Sut~erland appears to be ~aJ?llg that opportunity consists in part of.learrun? s.tructures. ~e.pr.mC1pa~ CO mponents of his theory of differential aSSOCiation are that cr~mmal be . . I d " and furthermore that "criminal behavior IS leanled . . "B 1 h aVlOr IS eame " , in interaction with other persons in a process of :ommumc~hon, u~ le also uses the term to describe situations conduclve to carrymg out cnminal roles. Thus, for Sutherland, the commission of a crm:mal aC,t would e existence of tvvo conditions: dlfferential asso. . d _ seem t 0 d epend upon th ciations favoring the acquiSition of crimmal valu~s. and skllls, an con ditions encouraging participation in criminal acti:lty.. . This distinction heightens the importance of Identifying and que.sti nin the common assumption that illegitimate means are freely avmla~le. ~e can noW ask (1) whether there are s?cially structured differentials in access to illegitimate learning envHonme~ts, ~~d (2) whether there are differentials limiting the fulfilIment of illeg~tlm~te roles, If differentials exist and can be identified, w~ m~y then mqUlre about their consequences for the behavi?r of pe~sons m different parts o~ the social structure. Before pursuing thIS qu.e~tion, how~ver, we turn t, a fuller discussion of the theoretjcal tradItion estabhshed by Sha\\, If
McKay, and Sutherland"
DIFFERENTIALS IN AVAILABILITY OF ILLEGITIMATE MEANS: THE SUBCULTURE TRADITION The concept of differentials in
ava~l~bili~ of ill~~~~~!~ ~~:~~~~.~~
182
Anomie
this tradition, attention is focused on the processes by which persons are recruited into criminal learning environments and ultimately inducted into criminal roles. The problems here are to account for the acquisition of criminal roles and to describe the social organization of criminal activities. When the theoretical propositions contained in this tradition are reanalyzed, it becomes clear that one underlying conception is that of variations in access to success-goals by illegitimate means. Furthermore, this implicit concept may be shown to be one of the bases upon which the tradition was constructed. In their studies of the ecology of deviant behavior in the urban environment, Shaw and McKay found that delinquency and crime tended to be confined to delimited areas and, furthermore, that such behavior persisted despite demographic changes in these areas. Hence they came to speak of "criminal tradition," of the "cultural transmission" of crim13 inal values. As a result of their observations of slum life, they concluded that particular importance mllst be assigned to the integration of difjermt age-levels of offenders. Thus: Stealing in the neighborhood was a common practice among the children and approved by the parents. Whenever the boys got together they talked about robbing and made more plans for stealing. I hardly lmew any boys Who did not go robbing. The little fellows went in for petty stealing, breaking into freight cars, and stealing junk. The older guys did big jobs like stick-up, burglary, and stealing autos. TIle little fellows admired the "big shots" and longed for tlle day when they could get into the big racket. Fellows who had "done time" were the big shots and looked up to and gave the little fellow tips on how to get by and pull off big jobs.H
In other words, access to criminal roles depends upon stable associations with others from whom the necessary values and skills may be learned. Shaw and McKay were describing deviant learning structuresthat is, alternative routes by which people seek access to the goals which society holds to be worthwhile. They might also have pointed out that, in areas where such learning structures are unavailable, it is probably difficult for many individuals to secure access to stable criminal careers, even though motivated to do SO.15 The concept of illegitimate means and the socially structured Conditions of access to them were not explicitly recognized in the work of Shaw and McKay because, probably, they were disposed to view slum areas as "disorganized." Although they consistently referred to illegitimate activities as being organized, they nevertheless often depicted high-rate delinquency areas as disorganized because the values transmitted were criminal rather than conventional. Hence their work inclu~es st~te]~lJ~_nts which we know perceive to be internally inconsistent,
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Th· community situation Iin which Sidney was reared} \~as not only ' 1S . cl an cl thus m· effective as . a unit of control, but It was cl 150rgamze . . characlerized by a high rate ofjuve~~e delmque~cy and. adult crIme, no~ to mention the widespread pohtlcal corruptton whICh ha? long :x isted in the area. Various forms of stealing and many orgaruzed delmquent and criminal gangs were prevalent in the area. These groups exercised a powerful influence and tended to created a. communIty spjrit which not only tolerated but actually fostered delmquent and criminal practices. Sutherland was among the first to perceive that the conc~pt of sO:ial disorganization tended to obscure the stable patterns of mteractIon among carriers of criminal values. Like Shaw and McKay, he ha~ be~n influenced by the observation that lower-class areas were orgaruze~ ill terms of both conventional and criminal values, but he was also Impressed that these alternative value systems were sUl?ported by patterned systems of social relations. He expressly recog~l1zed th~t cr:me, far from being a random, unorganized activity, was typICally a~ mtncate and stable system of human arrangements. ~e therefore reJecte~, t~e concept of "social disorganization" and substituted the concept of differential group organiza tion." The third concept, social disorganization, was ?o:rowe? f~om Shaw and McKay. I had used it but had not been .sa~sfied WItlllt becalls~ the organization of the delinquent group, Wh1ch 15 often very com~lex, is social disorganization only from an ethical or some otlle: partlcularistic point of view. At tlle suggestion of Albe.rt~. Cohen: thIS con:ept has been changed to differential gr.oup orgaruza~on: WhICh. orga~z~~ tion for criminal activities on one SIde and orgamzation agamst Crlll1I nal activities on the otherP H . g freed observation of the urban slum from convenlional evalBm . hlh uations Sutherland was able to focus more clearly on the way ill w . c. its soci~l structure constitutes a "learning environment" for the acqUlsltion of deviant values and skills. In the development. of .the ,~eory of "differential association" and "differential group orgaruzation, h:: c~e close to stating explicitly the concept of differentials in acce~s to llle?Itimate means. But Sutherland was essentially interested In ie,armng processes, and thus he did not ask how such access varies in different nor did he inquire about the consequences parts 0 f the social structure' . . . 18 for behavior of variations in the accessIbIlity of these means. William F. Whyte, in his classic study of an urba~ sl~, ad:anc.e~ the empirical description of the structure and orgaruzation of IllegItimate means a step beyond that of Sutherland. Like Sutherland, Whyte rejected the earlier view of the slum as disorganized: It is customary for the sociologist to study the slllI!1 district in tern::s of
184
Anomie 13. Richard A Cloward
Cornerville has a complex and well-established organization of its own .... r found that in every group there was a hierarchical structure of social relations binding the individuals to one another. Where the group was fonnally organized into a political dub, this was immediately apparent, but for infonnal groups it Was no less true. 19
Whyte's contribution to our understanding of the organization of illegitimate means in the slum consists primarily in showing that individuals who participate in stable illicit enterprise do not constitute a separate or isolated segment of the community. Rather, these persons are closely integrated with the occupants of conventional roles. In deScribing the relationship between racketeers and politicians, for example, he notes that "the rackets and political organizations extend from the bottom to the top of Comerville society, mesh with one another, and integrate a large part of the life of the district. They provide a general framework for the understanding of the actions of both 'little guys' and 'big shots',"20 Whyte's view of the slum differs somewhat from that Conveyed by the term "differential group organization." He does not emphasize the idea that the slum is composed of two different systems, conventional and deviant, but rather the way in which the occupants of these various roles are integrated in a single, stable structure which organizes and patterns the life of the community. The description of the organization of illegitimate means in slums is further developed by Solomon Kobrin in his article, "The Conflict of Values in Delinquency Areas. "2] Kobrin suggests that urban slum areas vary in the degree to which the carriers of deviant and conventional values are integrated with one another. Hence he points the way to the development of a "typology of delinquency areas based on the variations in the relationship between these two systems," depicting the "polar types" on such a continuum. The first type resembles the integrated areas described in preceding paragraphs. Here, claims Kobrin, there is not merely structural integration between carriers of the two value systems, but reciprocal participation by each in the value system of the other. Thus: Leaders of [illegal] enterprises freguently maintain membership in such conventional institutions of their local communities as churches, fraternal and mutual benefit societies and political parties .... Within this framework the influence of each of the tvvo value systems is reciprocal, the leaders of illegal enterprise participating in the primary orientation of the conventional elements in the population, and the latter, through their partidpation in a local power structure sustained in large part by illicit activity, partidpating perforce in the alternate, criminal value system. Kobrin also notes that in some urban slums there is a tendency for the relationshios hp/-wppn ""::IrriorC' .... {: ...l~.,,:~_J. _ ••.1
185
uch areas constitute the second polar type. ~ecause.of break ch as "drastic change in the class, ethnic, or raCIal disorgaruzmg Of:es su ul ti " Kobrin suggests that "the bearers of the characteristics of Its!e°:ndait~:alue system are without the customary conventJonal and therefore in effect partially demobIlized institutIOnal mac n of their value system." At the same time, with reference to the diffuslO . . licit" since this type of area is . . I" lue system remams lll1p . d b the absence of systematic and organIZe the cnmma va.. "characterized pnnclpally f Yh 1 d pite the fact that many adults in ti "ty m vlOlation 0 t e aw, es . . • VIO • 1a tJ" ons. " SI"nee both value systems remam lll1adult ac VI OITlffilt .ve inte ation are precluded. these areas c ... tio ~ may be seen if we ask how acplicit, the possibilities for effe~ti The importance of these 0 ~erva .thnthe relative integration of con. .. f ill al means varIes Wl I" cesslblhty " 1 0 d eg ·iminal va1ues from 0 ne type of area to another. In t us ventiona an C l . . that the "integrated" area apparently conconnection, K~b:m pOInts dO~~or the acquisition of criminal values and stitutes a "trammg groun
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me-sr .
skills" . . . . in the adult society of the comThe stable position. of ilh~ ent~rp~~elinquent conduct on the part of munity is refl~cted ~ the ar~ ~ hi h rate areas is intrinsically dischildren. Whil~ ~elinquenc~ 1 Efi i~ programs for the education of orderly in ~lat It IS. unrelale c~~rn:=mit ] boys may more or less rea~ the young, ill tl~e [mtegrate~ lities for ;ersonal progress in local SOClistically recogruze the po~e~. a In a general way, therefore, ety through access to e mquencY·titutes a training ground for the s delinquent activity in these aret .c~ns e concealment of offense, evaacquisition of. skill in the u~e~d~een~~se of immunity from punI ~ these respects are frequently sion of detection and arres , islunent. Those who c~mf t~ ex~e ~e rackets who are confronted, as noted and valued by ~d t ea er~ ill enterprises, with problems of are the leaders of all mcome-pro u dng the recruitment of competent personnel.
. "unintegrated area," Kobrin With respect to the contrastmg °hrch 1 mm"g structures and op. f th extent to W 1 ea makes no mentIon 0 e ail bl Yet his portrayal of such .. f iminal careers are av a e. . . 1 portunities ~r cr. h f cuIation of either conventional or cnrnma areas as lackmg m tear I . t learning structures-principally values suggests that the appr~~~: e t age levels-are not available. the integration. of off~n~ers 0 1 te~~~ative activity as "unorganized" Furthermore, his ~epICtion of ad~ty structure is severely limited. Even suggests that the illegal opporturu t aration for criminal roles, if youngsters were able to secure ~~:(~: ~~:tJ structure for such neighthe problem w~uld appear to b:uruties for stable, criminal careers. For borhoods proVIdes few oppor f Whyte and others before himKobrin's analysis-as well a.s th?se 0 . . ., . . _
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in lower-class areas only when stable patterns of accommodation and integration arise between the carriers of conventional and deviant values. Where these values remain unorganized and implicit, or where their carriers are in open conflict. opportunities for stable criminal role performance are more Of less limited. 22 Other factors may be cited which affect access to criminal roles. For example, there is a good deal of anecdotal evidence which reveals that access to the upper echelons of organized racketeering is controlled, at lease in part, by ethnicity. Some ethnic groups are found disproportionately in the upper ranks and others disproportionately in the lower. From an historical perspective, as Bell has sho\Vll, this realm has been successively dominated by Irish, East-European Jews, and more recently, by Italians.23 Various other ethic groups have been virtually excluded or at least relegated to lower-echelon positions. Despite the fact that many rackets (especially "policy") have flourished in predominantly Negro neighborhoods, there have been but one or two Negroes who have been known to rise to the top in syndicated crime. As in the conventional world, Negroes are relegated to the more menial tasks. Moreover, access to elite positions in the rackets may be governed in part by kinship criteria, for various accounts of the blood relations among top racketeers indicate that nepotism is the general rule. 24 Is has also been noted that kinship criteria sometimes govern access to stable criminal roles, as in the case of the pick pocket.25 And there are, of course, deeprooted sex differentials in access to illegal means. Although women are often employed in criminal vocations-for example, thievery; confidence games, and extortion-and must be employed in others-such as prostitution-nevertheless females are excluded from many criminal activities. 26 Of the various criteria governing access to illegitimate means, class differentials may be among the most important. The differentials noted in the preceding paragraph-age, sex, ethnicity, kinship, and the likeall pertain to criminal activity historically associated with the lower class. Most middle- or upper-class persons-even when interested in following "lower-class" criminal careers-would no doubt have difficulty in fulfilling this ambition because of inappropriate preparation. The prerequisite attitudes and skills are more easily acquired if the individual is a member of the lower class; most middle- and upper-class persons could not easily unlearn their own class culture in order to learn a new one. By the same token, access to many "white collar" criminal roles is closed to lower-class persons. Some occupations afford abundant opportunities to engage in illegitimate activity; others offer virtually none, The businessman, for example, not only has at his disposal the mf'<'Ins to nn.:::n hIlt
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_1
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ress ure to employ illegitimate means, if only to ~aintain a competi~ dvantage in the market place. But for those ill many other occuave' a , I actlvl " ty are slmp 'lo wllite collar modes of crimma y n t an pa t IOns, alternative.!?
SOME IMPLICATIONS OF A CONSOLIDATED APPROACH TO DEVIANT BEHAVIOR It is noW possible to consolidate the two sociologic~ ~aditions ~escribed above. Our analysis makes it clear that these ~adI.tiOnS are OrIented to different aspects of the same problem: differentials ~ access to oppo~tu nit)'. One tradition focusses on legitimate oppo~turuty, .the ~ther on illegitimate. By incorporating the concept of dIfferentIals. m access to illegitimate means, the theory of anomie may be extende~ to m~ude seem. I unrelated studies and theories of deviant behavlOr whiCh form a the literature of American criminology, In this final section, we try to show how a consolidated approach mIght adv~ce e understandmg f b th rates and types of deviant conduct. The dIScussIon centers on the ~on~tions of access to both systems of means, legitimate and illegitimate.
;!Iof
tI:
THE DISTRIBUTION OF CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR
One problem which has plagued the cr~ologi~t ~s the absence of adequate data on social differentials in crimmal actiVIty. Many ~ave held that the highest crime rates are to be found in the lower SOCIal strata. Other have suggested that rates in the middle and ~pper classes r.nay?e much higher than is ordinarily thoug~t. The question of the SOCIal dIStribution of crime remains problematic. . In the absence of adequate data, the theorist has sometimes at.tacked this problem by assessing the extent of pressures toward normative departures in various parts of the social structure. For exao:ple, Merton remarks that his "primary aim is to discover how some .sOCIaI structur~s exert a definite pressure upon certain persons in th:;7~ocle~ to .enga?~ m non-conforming rather than conformmg conduct. - Havm~ Identified structural features which might be expected to generate deVlance, Merton suggests the presence of a correlation between "pressures toward deviation" and "rate of deviance." But whatever the differential rates of deviant behavior in t~: sev~ral social strata, and we know from many sou~ces that the offiCial crune statistics uniformly showing higher rates m the lov.:er strata ar~ fa~ from complete .or' reliable, it appears from 0111' analYSIS tllat t/~lrta~ell •• ' , , ___ ... ,, __ 1 ______ _ t ___ t_ ~~-.~
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standing of the distribution of illegitimate behavior in the social struc-
structure, the culture makes incompatible demands. On the one hand they are asked to orient their behavior toward the prospect of large \~e~lth ... and ~n ~e ~ther, they are largely denie9 effective opportuntties to do so mstltullonally. The cOIlseqlle1lCC of tillS structural incollsistellcy is (l high ratc of devwnt behnvior. 29
ture. MODES Of ADAPTATION: THE CASE OF REillEATISM
Because of the paucity and unreliability of existing criminal statistics, th.er~ is as yet no way of knowing whether or not Merton's hypothesIs 15 correct. Until comparative studies of crime rates are available the hypothesized correlation carmot be tested. From a theoretical perspective, however, questions may be raised about this ~orrelatio~. Would we expect, to raise the principal query, the correlation to be fixed or to vary depending on the distribution of access to illegitimate means? The three possibilities are (1) that access is distributed uniformly throughout the class structure, (2) that access va:ies inversely with class position, and (3) that access varies directly WIth class position. Specification of these possibilities permits a more precise statement of the conditions under which crime rates would be expected to vary. If access to illegitimate means is uniformly distributed throughout the class structure, then the proposed correlation would probably holdhigher rates of innovating behavior would be expected in the lower class than elsewhere. Lower-dass persons apparently experience greater p~~ssure toward deviance and are less restrained by internalized prohibItions from employing illegitimate means. Assuming uniform access to such means, it would therefore be reasonable to predict higher rates of innovating behavior in the lower social strata. If access to illegitimate means varies inversely with class position, than the correlation would not only hold, but might even be strengthened. For pressures toward deviance, including socialization that does not altogether discourage the use of illegitimate means, would coincide with the availability of such means. Finally, if access varies directly with class position, comparative rates of illegitimate activity become difficult to forecast. The higher the class position, the less the pressure to employ illegitimate means; furtherrno~e~ internalized prohibitions are apparently more effective in higher posItIOns. If, at the same time, opportunities to use illegitimate methods are more abundant, then these factors would be in opposition. Until the precise effects of these several variables can be more adequately measured, rates cannot be safely forecast. The concept of differentials in availability of illegitimate means may also he~p .to clarify questions about varying crime rates among ethnic, age, religlOus, and sex groups, and other social divisions. TIus concept, thpn ('::In hp c:uc::t",,,,:>f..jl"',,,lh, ............. l .... ~T ...t : ... ....
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,
B taking into account the conditions of access of legitimate a11d ille~it i~ate means, we can further specify the circumstan~es under which various modes of deviant behavior arise. This may be Illustrated by the case of retreatism. 3o . As defined by Merton, retreatist adaptations include such categones of behavior as alcoholism, drug addition, and psychotic withdrawal. These adaptations entail "escape" from the frustrations of unfulfilled aspirations by withdrawal from conventional social relationships. The processes leading to retreatis~ are de.scribed by Merton as folIo,"::: "[Retreatism] arises from continued failure to ne.ar t~~ goal by legItimate measures and from an inability to use the IllegItimate route because of internalized prohibitions, this process occurrillg while the supreme vallle of tlIe success-goal has /lot yet been renounced. The conflict is resolved by abandoning both precipitating elements. The goal: a~d .mean.s. The escape is complete, the conflict is eliminated and the mdlvldualls asocialized."31 In this view, a crucial element encouraging retreatism is internalized constraint concerning the use of illegitimate means. But this element need not be present. Merton apparently assumed tl:at suc.h prohibitions are essential because, in the~r abser:ce, the 10?IC of hIS scheme would compel him to predict that mnovating beh~vlOr would result. But the assumption that the individual uninhibited 111 the use of illegitimate means becomes an innovator presupposes that succe~sful innovation is only a matter of motivation. Once the concep~ of differentials in access to illegitimate means is introduced, however, It becomes clear that retreatism is possible even in the absence of internalized pr~ hibitions. For we may now ask how individuals respond when they faIl in the use of both legitimate and illegitimate means. If illegitimate means are unavailable, if efforts at innovation fail, then retreatist adaptations may still be the consequence, and the "escape" mechani~ms chosen by the defeated individual may perhaps be all the more deVIant because of his "double failure." This does not mean that retreatist adaptations cannot arise precisely as Merton suggests: namely, that the conversion from conformity to retreatism takes place in one step, without intervening adapt~tions. B~t this is only one route to retreatism. The conversion may at tunes ent~Il intervening stages and intervening adaptations, particularly of an m_.
.,.".".
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190
13. Richard A Cloward
Anomie
categories of individuals cited as retreatists-for example, hobos-often show extensive histories of arrests and convictions for various illegal acts. It also helps to explain retreatist adaptations among individuals who have not necessarily internalized strong restraints on the use of illegitimate means. In short, retreatist adaptations may arise with considerable frequency among those who are failures in both worlds, conventional and illegitimate alike. 32 Future research on retreatist behavior might well examine the interval betw-een conformity and retreatism. To what extent does the individual entertain the possibility of resorting to illegitimate means, and to what extent does he actually seek to mobilize such means? If the individual turns to innovating devices, the question of whether or not he becomes a retreatist may then depend upon the relative accessibility of illegitimate means. For although the frustrated conformist seeks a solution to status discontent by adopting such methods, there is the further problem of whether or not he possesses appropriate skills and has opportunities for their use. We suggest therefore that data be gathered on preliminary responses to status discontent-and on the individual's perceptions of the efficacy of employing illegitimate means, the content of his skills, and the objective situation of illegitimate opportunity available to him. Respecification of the processes leading to retreatism may also help to resolve difficulties entailed in ascertaining rates of retreatism in different parts of the social structure. Although Merton does not indicate explicitly where this adaptation might be expected to arise, he specifies some of the social conditions which encourage high rates of retreatism. Thus the latter is apt to mark the behavior of downwardly mobile persons, who experience a sudden breakdo'Wll in establishing social relations, and such individuals as the retired, who have lost major social roles.33 The long-standing difficulties in forecasting differential rates of retreatism may perhaps be attributed to the assumption that retreatists have fully internalized values prohibiting the use of illegitimate means. That this prohibition especially characterizes socialization in the middle and upper classes probably calls for the prediction that retreatism occurs primarily in those classes-and that the hobohemias, "drug cultures," and the ranks of the alcoholics are populated primarily by individuals from the upper reaches of society. It would appear from various accounts of hobohemia and skid row, however, that many of these persons are the products of slum life, and, furthermore, that their behavior is not necessarily controlled by values which preclude resort to illegitimate means, But once it is recognized that retreatism may arise in recn..... ncol-nl;.....,,:~..,...;~_n __
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this adaptation is lessened, if not resolved. Thus retreatist behavior may vary with the particular process by which it is generated. The process described by Merton may be somewhat more characteristic of higher positions in the social structure where rule-oriented socialization is typical, while in the lower strata retreatism may tend more often to be the consequence of unsuccessful attempts at innovation.
SUMMARY This paper attempts to identify and to define the concept of differential opportunity structures. It has been suggested that this concept helps to extend the developing theory of social structure and anomie. Furthermore, by linking propositions regarding the accessibility of both legitimate and illegitimate opportunity structures, a basis is provided for consolidating various major traditions of sociological thought on nonconformity. The concept of differential systems of opportunity and of variations in access to them, it is hoped, will suggest new possibilities for research on the relationship between social struchIre and deviant behavior.
NOTES This paper is based on research conducted in a penal setting. For a more detailed statement see Richard A. Cloward, Social COlltrol nod Al1omie: A Study of Prison COIllI111lllity (to be published by The Free Press). 2. See especially Emile Durkheim, Suicide, translated by J. A Spaulding and George Simpson, Glencoe, TIL: Free Press, 1951; and Robert K. Merton, Social TlteonJ mId Social Structure, Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1957, Chapters 4 and 5. 3. See especially the following: Clifford R. Shaw, The Jack-Roller, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1930; Clifford R. Shaw, The Natllral History of a Delinquent Career, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1931; Clifford R. Shaw et al., DelinqllellC!.IArcas, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1940; Clifford R. Shaw and Henry D. McKay, JlIvenile DcliHqlletlcy alld Urban Areas, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1942; Edwin H. Sutherland, editor, The ProfessioJlal Thief Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1937; Edwin H. Sutherland, Prillciples of Crimillology, 4th edition, Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1947; Edwin H. Sutherland, White Collar Crime, New York: Dryden, 1949, 4. "Illegitimate means" are those proscribed by the mores. The concept therefore includes "illegal means" as a special case but is not cotenninous with illegal behavior, which refers only to the violation of legal
1.
192
Anomie
13. Richard A Cloward
behavior which entail violation of the law and there use the more restricted term, "illegal means." But the more general concept of illegitimate means is needed to cover the wider gamut of deviant behavior and to relate the theories under review here to the evolving theory of "legiti-
macy" in sociology. 5. 6. 7.
8.
9. 10. 11. 12.
13. 14. 15.
16. 17. 18.
All of the excerpts in this section are from Durkheim, op. cit., pp. 247-257. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Merton, op. cif., pp. 131-194. See, e.g., Seldon D. Bacon, "Sodal Settings Conducive to A1coholism-A Sociological Approach to a Medical Problem," foun/nl of the American Medical Associntio1l,16 (May, 1957), pp. 177-181; Robert F. Bales, "Cultural Differences in Rates of Alcoholism," Quarterly Jounlal of Sludies 011 AlcallO', 16 (March, 1946), pp. 480-499; Jerome H. Skohtick, "A Study of the Relation of Etlmic Background to Arrests for Inebriety/' Quarterly JOllmal ofStlldies 011 Alcoltol, 15 (December, 1954), pp. 451-474. See Isidor T. Thomer, '~scetic Protestantism and Alcoholism," Psyclliatnj, 16 (May, 1953), pp. 167~176; and Nathan Glazer, "Why Jews Stay Sober," C0111J1t€l1tmy, 13 (February, 1952), pp. 181~186. See Bales, op. cif. Merton, op. cit., p. 151. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Sutherland, The Professional Thief, pp. 211-213. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Albert Cohen, Alfred Lindesmith and Karl Schuessler, editors, The SlItherland Papers, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1956, pp. 31-35. See especially Delinquency Areas, Chapter 16. Shaw, The Jack-Roller, p. 54. We are referring here, and throughout the paper, to stable criminal roles to which persons may orient themselves on a career basis, as in the case of racketeers, professional thieves and the like. The point is that access to stable roles depends in the first instance upon the availability of learning structures. As Frank Tannenbaum says, "it must be insisted on that unless there were older criminals in the neighborhood who provided a moral judgment in favor of the delinquent and to whom the delinquents could look for commendation, the careers of the younger ones could not develop at all." Crime and the Community, New York Ginn, 1938, p. 60. Shaw, The Natuml Histonj of a Delinquent Career, p. 229. Cohen, Lindesmith and Schuessler, op. cit., p. 21. It is interesting to note tllat the concept of differentials in access to legitimate means did not attain explicit recognition in Sutherland's work, nor in the work of many others in the "subculture" tradition. This attests to the independent development of the hvo traditions being discussed. Thus the ninth proposition in the differential association theory is stated as follows: (9) TllOU;;;lz criminal belwvior is nil expression of;;;ellernllleeds and val-
19. 20. 21.
22.
23. 24.
25.
26.
193
l1al belwvior is nil expression of the same Heeds and vallles. Thieves generally steal in order to secure money, but likewise honest laborers work in order to secure money. The attempts by many scholars to explain criminal behavior by general drives and values, such as the happiness principle, striving for social status, the money motive, or frustration, have been and must continue to be futile since they explain lawful behavior as completely as they explain criminal behavior. Of course, it is perfectly true that "striving for status," the "money motive" and similar modes of socially approved goal-oriented behavior do not as such account for both deviant and conformist behavior. But if goal-oriented behavior occurs under conditions of socially structured obstacles to fulfillment by legitimate means, the resulting pressures might then lead to deviance. In other words, Sutherland appears to assume that the distribution of access to success-goals by legitimate means is uniform rather than variable, irrespective of location in the social structure. See his PriJlciple afCriminology, 4th edition, pp. 7-8. Wllliam F. Whyte, Street Comer Societ1j (Original edition, 1943). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1955, p. viii. Ibid., p. xviii. Amcricml Sociological Review, 16 (October, 1951), pp. 657-658, which includes the excerpts which follow immediately. TIle excellent work by Albert K. Cohen has been omitted from this discussion because it is dealt \-vith in a second article, "Types of Delinquent Subcultures," prepared jointly with Lloyd E. OhIin (mirneographed, December, 1958, New York School of Social Work, Columbia University). It may be noted that although Cohen does not explicitly affirm continuity with either the Durkheim-Merton or the Shaw-McKay-Sutherland traditions, we believe that he clearly belongs in the former. He does not deal with what appears to be the essence of the Shaw-McKay-SutherIand tradition, namely, the crucial social functions performed by the integration of offenders of differing age-levels and the integration of adult carriers of criminal and conventional values. Rather, he is concerned primarily with the way in which discrepancies between status aspirations and possibilities for achievement generate pressures for delinquent behavior. The latter notion is a central feature in the anomie tradition. Daniel Bell, "Crime as an American Way of Life," The Alltioch Review (Sununer, 1953), pp. 131-154. For a discussion of kinship relationships among top racketeers, see Stanley Frank, "The Rap Gangsters Fear Most," The Saturday Evenillg Post (August 9, 1958), pp. 26 ff. This article is based on a review of the files of the United States Immigration and Naturalization Service. See David W. Maurer, Whiz Mob: A Correlatiol1 of the Technical Argot of Pickpockets with Their Bellnvior Pattern, Publication of the American Dialect Society, No. 24, 1955. For a discussion of racial, nationality, and sex differentials governing ac-
194
Anomie
Training in conventional, specialized occupational skills is often a prerequisite for the commission of white collar crimes, since the individual must have these skills in hand before he can secure a position entailing "trust" As Cressey says, "it may be observed that persons trained to carry on the routine duties of a position of trust have at the same time been trained in whatever skills are necessary for the violation of that position, and the technical skill necessary to trust violation is simply the technical skill necessary to holding the position in the first place." (DonaId R. Cressey, Other People's MOllet), Glencoe, Ill: Free Press, 1953, pp. 81-82.} Thus skills required in certain crimes need not be learned in association with criminals; they can be acquired through conventionalleaming. 28. Merton, op., cil., p. 132. 29. Ibid., pp. 141-145. 30. Retreatist behavior is but one of many types of deviant adaptations which might be re~analyzed in terms of this consolidated theoretical approach. In subsequent papers, being prepared jOintly with Lloyd E. Ohlin, other cases of deviant behavior-e.g., collective disturbances in prisons and subculhtral adaptations among juvenile delinquents-will be examined. In this connection, see footnote 22. 31. Merton, op. cil., pp. 153-154. 32. The processes of "double failure" being specified here may be of value in reanalyzing the correlation between alcoholism and petty crime. Investigation of the careers of petty criminals who are alcoholic may reveal that after being actively oriented toward stable criminal careers they then lost out in the competitive struggle. See, e.g., Invin Duetscher, "The Petty Offender: A SOciological Alien," The Joumal ojCrimillalLnw, CrimilloioS1J and Police Science, 44 Ganuary-February, 1954), pp. 592-595; Albert D. Ullman et al., "Some Social Characteristics of Misdemeanants," The Journal Dj Criminal Law, Crimill%S1J a11d Police Sciellce, 48 (May-June, 1957), pp. 44-53. 33. Merton, op. cit., pp. 188-189.
14. Albert K. Cohen
195
27.
Analysis and Critique 14 The Sociology of the Deviant Act: Anomie Theory and Beyond ALBERT K. COHEN My concern in this paper is to move toward a general theory of deviant behavior. Taking "Social Structure and Anornie"l as a point of departure, I shall note some of the imperfections and gaps in the theory as originally stated, how some of these have been rectified, some theoretical openings for further exploration, and some problems of relating anomie theory to other traditions in the sociology of deviance. It is not important, for my purposes, how broadly or narrowly Merton himself conceived the range of applicability of his anomie theory. VVhatever the intention or vision of the author of a theory, it is the task of a discipline to explore the implications of a theoretical insight, in all directions. Many of the points I shall make are, indeed, to be found in Merton's work. In many instances, however, they either appear as leads, suggestions, or obiter dicta, and are left undeveloped, or they appear in some other context and no effort is made systematically to link them with anomie theory. 2
THE ANOMIE THEORY OF DEVIANT BEHAVIOR Merton's theory has the reputation of being the pre-eminently sociological theory of deviant behavior. Its concern is to account for the distribution of deviant behavior among the positions in a social system and for differences in the distribution and rates of deviant behavior among systems. It tries to account for these things as functions of system properties-i.e., the ways in which cultural goals and opportunities for realizing them within the limits of the institutional norms are distributed. The emphasis, in short, is on certain aspects of the culture (goals and norms) and of the social structure (opportunities, or access to means). TIle theory is, then, radically sociological. And yet, as far as the formal Reprinted with permission from Albert K. Cohen, "The Sociology of the Deviant Act: Anomie Theory and Beyond," AIllf'ricll11 Sociologiclll Rf'view, vo]. 30 (February 1965), pp. 5-15. This is a revised version of a paper read at the annu"l meeting of the American Soci-
196
14. Albert K. Cohen
Anomie
~nd ex~licit structure of Merton's first formulation is concerned, it is,
certarn respects, atomistic and individualistic. Within the framework of goals, norms, and opportunities, the process of deviance was Conceptualized as though eadl individual-or better, role incumbent-were in a box by himself. He has internalized goals and nonnative, regulatory rules; he assesses the opportunity structure; he experiences strain; and h: selects one or another mode of adaptation. The bearing of others' expenence-their strains, their confonnity and deviance, their success a.nd failure-an ego's strain and consequent adaptations is comparatively neglected. ~~nsi~er first the concept of strain itself. It is a function of the degree of disJunc~on between goals and means, or of the sufficiency of means to the a.tt~ent ~f goals. But how imperious must the goals be, how W1c~r;am theIr a~amrnent, how incomplete their fulfillment, to generate stram. The relation between goals as components of that abstraction, culture, and the ~oncrete goals of concrete role incumbents, is by no means dear and sunple. One thing that is clear is that the level of goal attainment that will seem just and reasonable to concrete actors, and therefore the sufficiency of available means, will be relative to the attainments of others who serve as reference objects. Level of aspiration is not a fixed quantum, ~ak.en from the culture and swallowed whole, to lodge unchanged WIthin our psyches. The sense of proportionality between effort and reward is not determined by the objective returns of effort alone. From the standpoint of the role sector whose rates of deviance are in question, the mapping of reference group orientations, the availability to others of access to means, and the actual distribution of rewards are aspects of the social structure important for the determination of strain. 3 Once we take explicit cognizance of these processes of comparison, a number of ~ther problems unfold themselves. For example, others, whom we define as legitimate objects of comparison, may be more successful than we are by adhering to legitimate means. They not only do better than we do, but they do so "fair and square." On the other hand, th:y n:ay ~~ as well as we or even better by cutting corners, d1eating, usmg illegltimate means. Do these two different situations have different consequences for the sense of strain, for attitudes toward oneself, for subsequent adaptations? In general, what strains does deviance on the p~ of ~th.ers create for the virtuous? In the most obvious case ego is the drr:ct .vIctim of alter's deviance. Or ego's interests may be adversely but mdirectly affected by the chicanery of a competitor-unfair trade pra.ctic:s in business, unethical advertising in medicine, cheating in exammations when the instructor grades on a curve. But there is a less obvious case, the one which, according to Ranulf,4 gives rise to disinill
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goals, and the eschewing of interdicted but tantalizing goals, the adherence to normatively sanctioned means-these imply a certain self restraint, effort, discipline, inhibition. What is the effect of the spectacle of others who, through their activities do not manifestly damage Our own interests, are morally undisciplined, who give themselves up to idleness, self-indulgence, or forbidden vices? What effect does the propinquity of the wicked have on the peace of mind of the virhlOus? In several ways, the virtuous can make capital out of this situation, can convert a situation with a potential for strain to a source of satisfaction. One can become even more virtuous letting his reputation hinge on his righteousness, building his self out of invidiolls comparison to the morally weak. Since others' wickedness sets off the jewel of one's own virtue, and one's claim to virtue is at the core of his public identity, one may actually develop a stake in the existence of deviant others, and be threatened should they pretend to moral excellence. In short, another's virtue may become a source of strain! One may also join with others in righteous puritanical wrath to mete out punishment to the deviants, not 50 much to stamp out their deviant behavior, as to reaffirm the central importance of conformity as the basis for judging men and to reassure himself and others of his attachment to goodness. One may even make a virtue of tolerance and indulgence of others' moral deficiencies, thereby implicitly calling attention to one's own special strength of character, If the weakness of others is only human, then there is something more than human about one's own strength. On the other hand, one might join the profligate. What I have said here is relevant to social control, but my concern at present is not with social control but with some of the ways in which deviance of others may aggravate or lighten the burdens of conformity and hence the strain that is so central to anomie theory. The student of Merton will recognize that some of tl1ese points are suggested or even developed at some length here and there in Merton's own writing. Merton is, of course, one of the chief architects of reference group tl1eory, and in his chapter on "Continuities in the Theory of Reference Groups and Social Structure," he has a section entitled "Nonconformity as a Type of Reference Group Behavior," 5 There he recognizes the problems that one actor's deviance creates for others, and he explicitly calls attention to Ranulf's treatment of disinterested moral indignation as a way of dealing with this problem. 6 In "Continuities in the Theory of Social Structure and Anornie," he describes how the deviance of some increases the others' vulnerability to deviance? In short, my characterization of the earliest version of "Social Structure and Anornie" as "atomistic and individualistic" would be a gross misreprecontoh.-.n Hit ,.rOrO 0.,.,..,.,.1;0..-1 h ...
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viance. He has not, however, developed the role of comparison processes in the determination of strain or considered it explicitly in the context of anomie theory. And in general, Merton does not identify the complexities and subtleties of the concept strain as a problem area in their own right. Finally. in connection with the concept strain, attention should be called to Smelser's treatment of the subject in his Theory a/Collective Belzavior.8 Although Smelser does not deal with tills as it bears on a theory of deviance, it is important here for two reasons. First, it is, to my lmowledge, the only attempt in the literature to generate a systematic classification of types of strain, of which Merton's disjunction betv.reen goals and means is only one. The second reason is Smelser's emphasis that to account for collective behavior, one must start witlt strain, but one's theory must also specify a hierarchy of constraints, each of which further narrows the range of possible responses to strain, and the last of which rules out all alternatives but collective behavior. If the "value-added" method is sound for a theory of collective behavior, it may also be useful for a theory of deviance, starting from the concept strain and constructed on the same model. Now, given straill, what will a person do about it? In general, Merton's chief concern has been with the structural factors that account for variations in strain. On the matter of choice of solution, as on other matters, he has some perceptive observations,9 but it has remained for others to develop these systematically. In particular, m the original version of his theory each person seems to work out his solution by himself, as though it did not matter what other people were doing. Perhaps Merton assumed such intervening variables as deviant role models, without going into the mechanics of them. But it is one thing to assume that such variables are operating; it is quite another to treat them explicitly in a way that is integrated with the more general theory. Those who continue the anomie tradition, however-most notably Merton's student, Cloward-have done much to fill this gap. Cloward, with Ohlin,lU has accomplished this in large part by linking anomie theory mth another and older theorelical tradition, associated with Sutherland, Shaw and McKay, and Kobrin-the "cultural transmission" and "differential association" tradition of the "Chicago school." Cloward and Ohlin also link anomie theory to a more recent theoretical development, the general theory of subrultures, and especially the aspect of the theory that is concerned with the emergence and development of new subcultural forms.u What these other theories have in common is an insistence that deviant as well as nondeviant action is typically not conhived within the solitary individual psyche, but is part of a collaborative social activity, in
14. Alberl K Cohen
199
which the things that oll,er people say and do give meaning, value, and effect to one's own behavior. The incorporation of this recognition into anomie theory is the principal significance of Cloward's notion of illegitimate opportunity structures. These opportunity structures are going social concerns in the individual's milieu, which provide opportunities to learn and to perform deviant actions and lend moral support to the deviant when he breaks with conventional norms and goals. This is the explicit link with the cultural transmission-differential association tradition. The argument is carried a step farther with the recognition that, even in the absence of an already established deviant culture and social organization, a number of individuals with like problems and in effective communication with one another may join together to do what no one can do alone. They may provide one another with reference objects, collectively contrive a subculture to replace or neutralize the conventional culture, and support and shield one another in their deviance. This is the explicit link to the newer theory of subcultures. 12 There is one more step in this direction that has not been so explicitly taken. Those who jom hands in deviant enterprises need not be people with like problems, nor need their deviance be of the same sort. Within the framework of anornie theory, we may think of these people as individuals vvith quite variant problems or strains which led themselves to a common solution, but a common solution in which each participates in different ways. I have in mind the brothel keeper and the crooked policeman, the black marketeer and his customer, the desperate student and the term paper merchant, the bookie and the wire services. These do not necessarily constitute solidary collectivities, like delinquent gangs, but they are structures of action with a division of labor through which each, by his deviance, serve the interests of the others. Theirs is an "organic solidarity," in contrast to the "mechanical solidarity" of Cloward and Ohlin's gangs. Some of Merton's own writing on functionalism-for example, his discussion of the exchange of services involved in political corruption-is extremely relevant here, but is not explicitly integrated into his anomie theory.13
THE ASSUMPTION OF DISCONTINUITY To say that anomie theory suffers from the assumption of discontinuity is to imply that it treats the deviant act as though it were an abrupt change of state, a leap from a state of strain or anomie to a state of deviance. Although this overstates the weakness in Merton's theory the
200
Anomie
expression, "the assumption of discontinuity," does have the heUristi value of dra:wing attention to an important difference in emphasis be~ twee~ an~IDle theory and other traditions in American socioloffi" and to the direction of movement in anomie theory itself. Human action cl _ viant or otherwise, is something that typically develops and groW; ine tentative, groping, advancing, backtracking, sounding-out process. Pe~ pIe taste and feel their way along. They begin an act and do not com_ plete it. They start doing one thing and end up by doing another. They extncate themselves from progressive involvement or become further involved to the point of commitment. These processes of progressive involve~e.nt and disinvolvement are important enough to deserve explicit recogrution and treatment in their own right. They are themselves subject to nor:native regulation and structural constraint in complex ways about whIch we have much to learn. Until recently; however, the dominant bias in .American sOciology has been toward formulating theory in terms of var1ables that describe initial states, on the one hand, and outcomes, on the other, rather than in terms of processes whereby acts and complex structures of action are built, elaborated and transformed. Notable exceptions are interaction process analysis,14 the brand of action theory represented by Herbert Blumer,IS and the descriptions of deviance by. Talcot~ Parsons 16 and by Howard BeckerP Anomie theory has taken mcreasmg cOgnizance of such processes. Cloward and Merton both point out, for example, that behavior may move through "patterned sequences of deviant roles" and from "one type of adaptation to another."IS But this hardly does justice to the microsociology of the deviant act. It suggests a series of cliscontinuous leaps from one deviant state to another almost as much as it does the kind of process I have in mind.
RESPONSES TO DEVIANCE Very closely related to the foregoing point is the conception of the develop~ent of the act as a feedback, or, in more traditional language, in~erach~n process. The history of a deviant act is a history of an mteraction p:ocess. The antecedents of the act are an unfolding sequence of acts contrIbuted by a set of actors. A makes a move, possibly in a deviant direction; B responds; A responds to B's responses, etc. In the course of this interaction, movement in a deviant direction may become more explicit, elaborated, definitive-or it may not. Although the act may b: socially as~ribed to only one of them, both ego and alter help to shape It. The starting point of anomie theory was the question, "Given the social stnlC'hJrp. or poo'<:; miiiPll lArh;)t will po-n nn?" Thp rnilioll UT"'''
14. Albert K Cohen
201
taken as more-or-Iess given, an independent variable whose value is fixed, and ego's behavior as an adaptation, or perhaps a series of ad~p tations, to that milieu. Anornie theory has come increasingly to recogruze the effects of deviance upon the very variables that determine deviance. But if we are interested in a general theory of deviant behavior we must explore much more systematically ways of conceptuali~ing the i~lterac tioll between deviance and milieu. 19 I suggest the followmg such lines of exploration. If ego's behavior can be conceptualized in terms of acceptance and rejection of goals and means, the same can be done wit~ alter's responses. Responses to deviance can no ~ore ~e .left n.ormatlvely unregulated than deviance itself. Whose busmess It IS to mtervene, at what point, and what he mayor may not do is de~ed by a normativel~ established division of labor. In short, for any gIven role---parent, pnest, psychiatrist, neighbor, policemen, judge-the norms prescribe, with varying degrees of definiteness, what they are suppose~ ~o do and 1z~w they are supposed to do it when other persons, in specifl~d roles, rrusbehave. The culture prescribes goals and regulates the chOIce of means. Members of ego's role set can stray from cultural prescriptions in all the ways that ego can. They may overemphasize the goals and neglect the normative restrictions, they may adhere ritualistically to the normatively approved means and neglect the goals, and so forth. I h~ve spelled out the five possibilities on alter's side more fully elsewhere.-o The theoretical value of applying Merton's modes of adaptation to responses to deviant acts is not fully clear; yet it seems worthy of exploration for at least two reasons. First, one determinant of ego's response to alter's attempts at control, and of the responses of third parties whom ego or alter might call to their aid, is certainly the perceived legitimacy of alter's behavior. Whether ego yields or resists, plays the part of the good loser or the abused victim, takes his medicine or is driven to aggravated deviance, depends in part on whether alter has the right to do what he does, whether the response is proportional to the offense, and so on. Normative rules also regulate the deviant's response to the intervention of control agents. How the control agent responds to the deviant, after the first confrontation, depends on his perception of the legitimacy of the deviant's response to him, and not only on the nature of the original deviant act. For example, this perceived. legitima~ plays an important part in police dispositions of cases commg to theIr attention. This approach also directs attention to strain in alter's role, the adequacy of his resources relative to the responsibilities wi~ .which.he is rh"r~prl hv virtue of his role, and the illegitimate opporturuties available
202
TABLE
Anomie
14.1
14. Albert K. Cohen
RESPONSES OF THE OPPORTUNITY STRUCTURE TO
Eco's
DEVIANCE LEGITIMATE OI'rORTUNITrES
n
Open up Close off
ILLEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
III
N
to him. A familiar example would be the normative restrictions on the means police may consider effective to do the job with which they are charged, and variations in the availability to them of various illegitimate means to the same end. The disjunction betvveen goals and means and the choice of adaptations depend on the opportunity structure. The opportunity structure consists in or is the result of the actions of other people. These in turn are in part reactions to ego's behavior and may undergo change in response to that behavior. The development of ego's action can, therefore, be conceptualized as a series of responses, on the part of ego, to a series of changes in the opportunity structure resulting from ego's actions. More specifically. alter's responses may open up, close off, or leave unaffected legitimate opportunities for ego, and they may do the same to illegitimate opportunities. The following simplified table [Table 14.1] reduces the possibilities to four.
1. OPEN UP LEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES Spedal efforts may be made to find employment opportunities for delinquents and criminals. On an individual basis this has long been one of the chief tasks of probation officers. On a mass basis it has become more and more prominent in community-wide efforts to reduce delinquency rates. Black markets may sometimes be reduced by making more of the product available in the legal market or by reducing the pressure on legal supply through rationing. Several years ago the Indiana University faculty had a high rate of violation of campus parking regulations, in part because of the disjunction between the demand for parking spaces and the supply. The virtuous left early for work and hunted wearily for legitimate parking spaces. The contemnhWlls nnrkprl ;mvwhprp ;mrl .;:npprprl ::It t-ir1cpk nnt:> rp_
203
sponse to this situation was to create new parking lots and to expand old ones. Since the new parking spaces were available to all, and not only to the former violators, this provides a clear instance where the virtuousor perhaps the timid-as well as the deviants themselves are the beneficiaries of deviance. 21
Il.
OPEN UP ILLEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
Alter, instead of fighting ego, may facilitate his deviance by joining him in some sort of collusive illicit arrangement from which both profit. The racketeer and the law enforcement officer, the convict and the guard, the highway speeder and the traffic policeman, may arrive at an understanding to reduce the cost of deviance. Alter, whether he be a discouraged parent, a law enforcement official, or a dean of students, may simply give up efforts systematically to enforce a rule and limit himself to sporadic, token gestures. An important element in Ooward and Ohlin's theory of delinquent subcultures is that those who run the criminal syndicates are ever alert for promising employees, and that a certain number of those who demonstrate proficiency in the more juvenile forms of crime will be given jobs in the criminal organization.
Ill.
CLOSING OFF LEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
The example that comes most readily to mind is what Tannenbaum calls the "dramatization of evil."u A deviant act, if undetected or ignored, might not be repeated. On the other hand, others might react to it by publicly defining the actor as a delinquent, a fallen woman, a criminal. The definitions ascribe to him a social role, change his public image, and activate a set of appropriate responses. These responses may include exclusion from avenues of legitimate opportunity formerly open to him, and thus enhance the relative attractiveness of the illegitimate. IV. CLOSING OFF ILLEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
This is what we usually think of first when we think about "social control." It includes increasing surveillance, locking the door, increasing the certainty and severity of punishment, cutting off access to necessary supplies, knocking out the fix. These measures mayor may not achieve the intended effect. On the one hand, they make deviance more difficult. On the other hand, they may stimulate the deviant, or the deviant coalition, to ingenuity in devising new means to circumvent the new rp<::fTirtinn<::
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TIle table is a way of conceptualizing alter's actions. The same alter might respond simultaneously in different ceUs of the table, as may different alters, and these responses might reinforce or counteract one another. Responses might fall in different cells at different stages of the interaction process. In any case, as soon as we conceive of the opportunity structure as a dependent as well as an independent variable, this way of thinking suggests itself as a logical extension of the anomie schema. Parsons' paradigm of social control is in his opinion applicable not only to deviance, but also to therapy and rehabilitative processes in general. According to this paradigm, the key elements in alter's behavior are support, permissiveness, denial of reciprocity, and rewards, judiciously balanced, and strategically timed and geared to the development of ego's behavior.2..1 To exploit the possibilities of this and other paradigms of control, one must define more precisely these categories of alter's behavior, develop relevant ways of coding ego's responses to alter's responses, and investigate both theoretically and empirically the structure of extended interaction processes conceptualized in these terms. Finally, the interaction process may be analyzed from the standpoint of its consequences for stability or change in the normative structure itself. Every act of deviance can be thought of as a pressure on the normative structure, a test of its limits, an exploration of its meaning, a challenge to its validity. Responses to deviance may reaffillTI or shore up the normative structure; they may be ritual dramatizations of the seriousness with which the community takes violations of its norms. Or deviance may prompt reexamination of the boundaries of the normatively pelTIlissible, resulting in either explicit refolTIlulation of the rule or implicit changes in its meaning, so that the deviant becomes redefined as non deviant, or the nondeviant as deviant. Thus deviance may be reduced or increased by changes in the norms.24 These processes go on without the household, courts of law, administrative agencies, and legislative chambers, but also in the mass media, the streets, and the other forums in which "public opinion" is shaped. Although these processes may be punctuated by dramatic, definitive events, like the passage of a new law or the promulgation of a new set of regulations on allowable income tax deductions, the pressure of deviance on the normative structure and the responses of the normative structure to deviance constitute continuing, uninterrupted, interaction processes. One goal of deviance theory is to determine under what conditions feedback circuits promote change and under what conditions they inhibit change in the nonnative structure. In this connection, one of Merton's most perceptive and fruitful distinctinns is thM hptwppn thp "nonconformist" Finn othpr tvnp.o:; nf np-
14. Albert K. Cohen
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viant. 25 Whereas the criminal and others typically violate the norms in pursuit of their own ends, but in no sense seek to chmzge those norms (though such change might very well be an unanticipated consequence of their cumulative deviance), the nonconformist's objective is precisely to change the normative system itself. This distinction suggests, in turn, the concept of the "test case" (which need not be limited to the context of legal norms and the formal judicial system)-i.e., the act openly committed, with the intention of forcing a clarification or redefinition of the norms. What we must not overlook, however, is that allY deviant act, whatever its intention, may, in a sense, function as a test case.
DEVIANCE AND SOCIAL IDENTITY There is another piece of unfinished business before anomie theory, and that is to establish a more complete and successful union with role theory and theory of the self. The starting point of Merton's theory is the means-ends schema. His dramatis persOIzae are cultural goals, institutional norms, and the situation of action, consisting of means and conditions. The disjunction betvveen goals and means provides the motive force behind action. Deviance is an effort to reduce this disjunction and re-establish an equilibrium between goals and means. It issues from tension; it is an attempt to reduce tension. Roles figure in this theory as a 10cational grid. They are the positions in the social structure among which goals, norms and means are distributed, where such disjunctions are located and such adaptations carried out. Another starting point for a theory of deviant behavior grows out of the social theory of George Herbert Mead. This starting point is the actor engaged in an ongoing process of finding, building, testing, validating, and expressing a self. The self is linked to roles, but not primarily in a 10cational sense. Roles enter, in a very integral and dynamic way, into the very structure of the self. They are part of the categorical system of a society, the socially recognized and meaningful categories of persons. They are the kinds of people it is possible to be in that society. TIle self is constructed of these possibilities. One establishes a self by successfully claiming membership in such categories. 26 To validate such a claim one must know the social meanings of membership in such roles: the criteria by which they are assigned, the qualities or behavior that function as signs of membership, the characteristics that measure adequacy in the roles. These meanings must be learned. To some degree, this learning may be accomplished before one has "identified or even toyed with the roles. Such learning Merton has ",.,.11",.-1 "' ... l-i,...;..... ~~,.. .... r C',",,,.j.., l.j..,.~l-i .... n 1'.... .:on ...... '" rl",,,.r£lO h,..,,,..,,,..,,.. a ,..n.,~;nl1O'"
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even after one has become more or less committed to a role, in the process of presenting one's self, experiencing and reading the feedback, and correcting one's notion of what it is to be that kind of person. An actor learns that the behavior signifying membership in a particular role includes the kinds of clothes he wears, his posture and gait, his likes and dislikes, what he talks about and the opinions he expresses---everything that goes into what we call the style of life. Such aspects of behavior are difficult to conceptualize as either goals or means; in terms of their relation to the role, at least, their function is better described as expressive or symbolic. But the same can be said even of the goals one pursues and the means one employs; they too may communicate and confirm an identity. Now, givell a role, and given the orientations to goals and to means that have been assumed because they are part of the social definition of that role, there may be a disjunction between goals and means. Much of what we call deviant behavior arises as a way of dealing with this disjunction. As anomie theory has been formally stated, this is where it seems to apply. But much deviant behavior cannot readily be formulated in these terms at all. Some of it, for example, is directly expressive of the roles. A tough and bellicose posture, the use of obscene language, participation in illicit sexual activity, the immoderate consumption of alcohol, the deliberate flouting of legality and authority, a generalized disrespect for the sacred symbols of the "square" world, a taste for marijuana, even suicide-all of these may have the primary function of affirming, in the language of gesture and deed, that one is a certain kind of person. The message-symbol relationship, or that of claim and evidence, seems to fit this behavior better than the ends-means relationship. Sexual seduction, for example, may be thought of as illicit means to the achievement of a goal. The point is, however, that the seduction need not be an adaptation to the insufficiency of other means, a response to disjunction. One may cultivate the art of seduction because this sort of expertise is directly significant of a coveted role. Indeed, the very value and meaning of the prize are conferred by the means employed. One could, of course, say that the expertise is itself the goal, but then it is still a goal that expresses and testifies to a role. Finally, one could say that the goal of the act is to validate the role, and all these kinds of behavior are means to this end. I think this statement is plausible and can be defended. If it is the intent of anomie theory, then the language of tension reduction does not seem to fit very well. The relation I have in mind, between deviant act and social role, is like the relation between pipe and elbow patches and the professional role. Like the professor's behavior, it is not necessarily a pis alIer, a means that one has hit on after others have failed. It comrnends itself. it is QTatifvinp". hp(",<'Ill"P it "PPTI1~ ~n rio-ht_
207
not in a moral sense, but in the sense that it fits so well with the image one would like to have of oneself. One important implication of this view is that it shifts the focus of theory and research from the disjunction and its resolution to the process of progressive involvement in, commitment to, and movement among social roles, and the processes whereby one learns the behavior that is significant of the roles. One may, like the child acquiring his sex identity, come to accept and identify with a role before he is quite clear what it means to be that sort of person, how one goes about being one. But once one has established the identity, he has an interest in learning these things and making use of that learning. Thus Howard Becker's dance band musicians arrive at that estate by various routes. For many of them, however, it is only as this identity is crystallizing that they fully learn what being a musician means within the world of musicians. They discover, so to speak, what they are, and what they are turns out to be highly unconventional peopleP We seek roles for various reasons, some of them having Uttle to do WiUl tension reduction, and having found the role, come into unanticipated legacies of deviant behavior. The same processes operate in movement in the other direction, toward restoration to conformity. They are most dramatically illustrated in religious conversion. As the sinner is born again, with a new identity fashioned out of new roles, whole bundles of behavior, not all of them deviant, are cast aside, and new bundles are picked up. Relatively little may be learned by examining, one at a time, the items these bundles contain, the sense in which they constitute means to ends, and their adequacy to their respective goals. The decisive event is the transformation of self and social identity. At that moment a wholesale transformation of behavior is determined. Anomie theory is, perhaps, concerned with one structural source of deviance, while the ideas just presented are concerned with another. Neither one need to be more faithful to reality than the other, and the defense of one need not be a challenge to the other. But those who are interested in the development of a general theory of deviance can hardly let matters stand at that. Is it possible to make any general statements about the kinds of deviance that may be attributed to anomie and the kinds that may be attributed to role validation through behavior culturally significant of membership in the role? Or may two instances of al11f sort of deviant behavior, identical in their manifest or "phenotypic" co~tent, differ in their sources of "genotypic" structure? Ultimately, however, we must investigate the possible ways in which the two kinds or sources of deviance interact or interpenetrate. For example, does role symbolism function as a structural constraint on '"1-. ......1... ,.,,; ...
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structural constraint on the choice of expressive symbolism? Does behavior that originates as a characteristic adaptation to the anomie associated with a particular role, come in time to signify membership in that role and thereby to exercise a secondary or even independent attraction or repulsion, depending on one's orientation toward the role itself? Finally, is it possible that in any instance of deviant behavior, Of, for that matter, any behavior, both processes are intertwined in ways that cannot be adequately described in tenns of presently available modes of conceptualization? I suggest that we must bring the two schemes into more direct and explicit confrontation and try to evolve a formulation that will fuse and harness the power of both.
209
10.
Cloward, op. cit., and Richard E. Ohlin, DeliJ1qllcJ1cy mul OpportulIity, A Tlteon) of DelillqllclIf Gangs, Glencoe, TIL: The Free Press, 1960.
11.
Ibid. Albert K. Cohen, Deli1lquent Boys, The Culture of tile Gang, Glencoe, TIL: The Free Press, Ch. 3, and Merton, Social TlIeon) alld Social Strud'flI"C, op. cil., p. 179. Social Theon) and Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 71-82. Robert F. Bales, Illteractioll Process Allalysis: A Method for the Study of Small Groups, Cambridge: Addison-Wesley, 1950. Herbert Blumer, "Society as Symbolic Interaction," in Arnold M. Rose (ed.), Humalt Bchavior a/ld Social Processes, Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1962, pp. 179-192. Talcott Parsons, The Social System, Glencoe, ill.: The Free Press, 1951, Ch.
12.
13. 14. 15.
16.
7.
NOTES
17.
Robert K. Merton, "Social Struchue and Anornie," Americall Sociological Review,3 (October, 1938), pp. 672-682, Social Theory and Social Structure, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1957, Chs. 4 and 5, and "Confonnity, Deviation, and Opportunity-Structures," Americall Sociological Review, 24 (April, 1959), pp. 177-189; Richard A. Cloward, "Illegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behavior," Americall Sociological Review, 24 (April, 1959), pp. 164-176; and Robert Dubin, "Deviant Behavior and Social Structure: Continuities in Social Theory," Americall Socioloq-ical Review 24 (April, 1959), pp. 147-164. '" 2. I am not here concerned with empirical applications and tests of anomie theory, on which there is now a large literahrre. In view of the sustained interest in anomie theory, its enormous influence, and its numerous applications, however, it is worth noting and wondering at the relatively slow and fitful growth of the substantive theory itself. It is of some interest also that, with respect to both substantive theory and its applications, there has been little follow-up of Merton's own leads relative to the implications of anomie theory for intersocietal differences in deviance behavior. Almost all of the work has been on variations in deviance within American SOCiety. 3. See, for example, how Henry and Short explicitly incorporate reference group theory and relative deprivation into their theory of suicide. Andrew Henry and James F. Short, Jr., Suicide alld Homicide, Glencoe, TIl.: The Free Press, 1954, pp. 56-59. 4. Svend Ranulf, MoralIl1dignatioll and Middle-Class Psychologt;: A SOciological Study, Copenhagen: Levin and Munksgaard, 1938. 5. Social Theon) and Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 357-368. 6. Ibid, pp. 361-362. 7. Ibid, pp. 179-181. 8. Neil J. Smelser, Theory of Collective Be1wvior, New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1963, esp. Ch. 3.
18.
1.
"
.,~.
.-
.'-,
19.
20.
21.
22.
23. 24.
25.
26.
27.
Howard S. Becker, Outsiders: Studies ill tTte 50cio[081) ofDevimlce, New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1963, esp. Ch. 2 Merton, Social Theory und Social StrHctllre, op. cif., p. 152; Cloward, op. cif., p. 175; Cloward and Ohlin, op. cit., pp. 179-184; Merton, "Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity-Structures," op. cif., pp. 188. Dubin, op. cit., esp. p. 151, and Merton's remarks on "typology of responses to deviant behavior," in his "Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity-Structures," op. cit., pp. 185-186. Albert K. Cohen, "The Study of Social Disorganization and Deviant Behavior," in Robert K. Merton, Leonard Broom, and Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr. (eds.), Sociologt) Today, New York: Basic Books, 1959, pp. 464-465. William J. Chambliss, The Deterrent Illfluence of PlIIlisll1llellt: A Study Of tlle Violatioll of Parking Regulations, M.A thesis (sociology), Indiana University,1960. Frank Tannenbaum, Crime and the COIll11lWlih), New York: Ginn, 1938, Ch. 7. Op. cil., pp. 297-325. Theodore M. lvlills, "Equilibrium and the Processes of Deviance and Control," American Sociological Review, 24 (October, 1959), pp. 671-679. Merton, Social Tlleory mId Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 360-368; Robert K. Merton, and Robert A Nisbet, COllte11lpOran) Social Problems, New York Harcourt, Brace, 1961, pp. 725-728. George Herbert Mead, Mind, Self, alld Society, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1934; Erving Goffman, Tlse Presmtatioll of Self ill Everyday Life, New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1959, and Stigmll, Notes 011 the Ma/l~ agemellt of Spoiled Identity, Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1963. Howard S. Becker, op. cit., Ch. 5.
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Anomie
Contemporary Application 15 Anomie and Corporate Deviance NIKOS PASSAS Al though Merton' 5 anomie theory can and should be regarded as a theory that has been developing over the years, it has some potential yet to be explored (cf. Passas 1988). It is suggested that it can be further developed and consolidated with points and analyses made in various theoretical perspectives. Such a "synthetic" or "integrative approach" reflects the belief that no single theory can possibly exhaust the significance of, or the questions relevant to, a particular object. TIle present paper illustrates this approach, in an attempt to enhance our understanding of corporate deviance and to elucidate the background against which corporations are likely to .evade institutional and legal norms. At the same time, relevant literature and research findings are reviewed. Finally, some wider implications for the social order of the conditions making for such evasions and of the evasions themselves are briefly discussed. It is argued that the structure of contemporary societies is inherently anomie-promoting; that is, contradictions within it set in motion processes, whereby the lines betvveen legitimate and illegitimate behaviour and acts are blurred. In an anomic environment, where there is a degree of uncertainty or confusion as to what is and what is not acceptable, comparatively high rates of deviance can be expected. Although the analysis is arguably relevant to socialist societies, the paper focuses upon capitalist societies. Corporate deviance refers here to illegal acts of corporate officials for the corporation and in accordance with its goals, and offences of the corporation itseU, which entail serious physical, economic or social costs (comp. Clinard and Quinney 1973: 188; Schrager and Short 1978: 411-412). The notion of corporate deviance, thus, is not restricted to criminal offences, but includes activities constituting breaches of civil and administrative rules as well. Is the Mertonian framework, originally designed for individual responses, adequate for the study of this type of organisational behavReprinted from Nikos Passas, "Anomie and Corporate Deviance," COllkmpomry Crises, va!. 1<1, pp. 157-78, © 1990 by KJuwer Academic Publishers. With kind permission from KJuwer Academic Publishers. Parts of an earlier version of this paper were presented at the 10th International ConI!n>S<; for ('riminolno-v h.,lrl in i-l'.,mh"rD PRr:: in <:;",n/",rnh",' 1 QAA
15. Nikos Passas
211
iour? That this question can be answered positively has been indicated in Merton's analysis of the political machine and the racket (cf. Merton 1968: 132 fn.). Recently, a number of scholars have found this framework useful for the understanding of corporate deviance (cf. Vaughan 1982 and [1983]1985: 54-87), including earlier critics (cf. Box 1983: 34-35; Braithwaite [1984]1986: 368). The task at hand, then, is twofold: to highlight anomie theory's relevance to this issue, and its complementarity with other theoretical traditions in the sociology of deviance. A central proposition of anomie theory is that discrepancies between cultural goals and institutional means available to people for the achievement of these goals make for a weaker commitment to prevailing standards (Le., anomie or anomic trends) and deviant behaviour. It stresses the point that the over emphasis on success goals and the striving for the realisation of continuously higher targets are culturally induced. Because of limited access to opportunities, the lower classes have been seen by Merton as more vulnerable to pressures conducive to anomie and deviance than the upper classes. By consolidating anomie theory with reference group and relative deprivation analysis, however, it can be shown that, as the meaning and content of success goals vary from one part of the social structure to another, similar difficulties in attaining diversely defined goals may be faced by people in the upper social reaches too; they are, therefore, far from immune to pressures towards deviance (cl. Passas 1987; Passas 1988: chapters 4 and 5). Further, it is essential to note that the maxime of ceaseless striving for success-especially monetary success-is not simply a cultural message, which just happens to obtain in contemporary societies. It is also reinforced by the capitalist mode of production in Western countries. It is inherent to this mode of production and, one might argue, it corresponds to a "condition of its existence." This is not to say that the one exists because of the other, but rather that they are mutually supportive. In this context, some of the prominent goals set for business and organisations in general are profit, growth and efficiency. Although large corporations "may have other goals, such as the increase or maintenance of corporate power and prestige, along with corporate growth and stability, their paramount objectives are the 1IlaXilllisatiol1 of profits and the general financial success of the corporation ... " (CUnard 1983: 18, emphasis added). So, it is not only that profits have to be made; the target is maximum possible profits (obviously, this is a simplification for analytical purposes, and it should not be taken as an empirical assertion that this is always so; but, one may plausibly assume that this is frequently the case). There is no defined and definite stopping point, the target is a ITIOlTjnlT onP' thp O"::lITIP ('h::lo::pr1 h" (';:lnil-::Ilio::to:: ::Inn r::lnit::l1i~t rnrnnr;:lfinn~
212
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is typically Hydra-headed. The capitalist !lrace" is never-ending as competitors keep joining in. So, "even as some firms fall behind or drop out of the race, new firms enter afresh, and even the leaders must worry about this potential competition" (Bowles and Edwards 1985: 88) .. Thus, cultural prescriptions correspond, in a sense, to necessities in the realm of business and corporations. Never-ending achievement, mostly measured Of measurable in terms of money, is "required" for the participation in this race. These aims which shape and determine to a great extent the functioning of organisations can be best achieved when they are passed on to those working in and for them, especially to those who occupy the higher ranks. A certain degree of harmony between organisational values and goals, and those of the organisation's members can be, thus, secured. Training classes and socialisation processes are promoted to attune members to the organisational goals, because, as "business firms depend on their members' skills to attain goals, they must ensure that members' motivations and values are consistent with the organisation's needs" (Vaughan [1983], 1985: 69; cf. also Peters and Waterman 1982; Ermann and Lundman 1982: 7-8). The members' cornmihnent to their firm's goals is further enhanced by the realisation that the attairunent of their own ends depends largelyon the prosperity of the firm. People's involvement in high pOSitions in organisations, corporations, industry etc. not only facilitates and "requires" such a comrrtihnent, but may also be seen as instrumental to their personal success. It is not only in the scientific cominunity that "the institutional goal and the personal reward are tied together" (Merton 1957: 659). In a similar manner, the personal interests of highly placed individuals are connected with those of the corporation-although they need not always coincide (comp. Vaughan [1983]1985: 70). Thus, a combined effect of culturally propagated themes of success and continuous striving, the peculiar "business ethic," and organisational demands may be, as Gross has found upon a survey of various data, that people at the top of organisations tend to be "ambitious, shrewd and possessed of a nondemanding moral code." He has also observed that:
situational adaptations form character. Thus, the timidity and narrowmindedness of a bureaucracy are not only maintained because the situations that produce timidity and narrowness are continuously present. They are also maintained because over time the people in th:m become timid and narrow" (Stinchcombe 1975: 26). The argument 15 also relevant, JHutatis l1lutandis, to business people, who are "trained" to be ruthless at work, in relation to their distinct patterned choices. Bradley and Wilke (1974), for instance, have recounted the story of a Business School, where students were divided into competing teams, simulating rival firms, and asked to deal with a set of problems, in order to assess "how successful the teams were at the end of the term." The winning team, it was subsequently discovered, has cheated by collecting t~e notes thrown away in paper bins ~y their opponents, and were thus m a betler position to beat them. Although. some of th~ t~aching ~~aff thou,?ht that the students ought to be penalised for thetr offence, others affilmed that the students had performed exceptionally well and ~e1t?~ed
Their ambition will not be merely personal, for they will have discovered that their own goals are best pursued through assisting the organisation to attain its goals. While this is less true, or even untrue at the bottom of the organisation, those at the top share directly in the benefits of organisational goal achievement, such as seeing their stock values go up, deferred compensation, and fringe benefits. (Gross 1978a:
Rather than think of corporate actors as individual personalities, t~ey should be viewed as actors who assume certain roles .... Understandmg how "ordinary men are led to do extraordinary things" can begin with role-playing experiments. (Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 2)
71)
Speaking of intellectuals in a public bureaucracy and socially induced rates of oattemf-'n rhnirp. Stinrhrnmhp h;'l<:: m;'lint;'linpr1 th;\t "Rpnptithrp
as thell would want them to behave as bltsil1eSSIlleJ1 hell-bel1t 011 maxl1JuslI1.g their ;ppottunities {md tahllg every possible advantage" (Bradley and Willde 1974: 90, emphasis added). Nevertheless, as with other types of deviance, such responses to environmental encouragements to succeed, even through "innovation," can be best understood as role-behaviour. Merton's statement, that "certain phases of social structure generate the circumstances in which infringement of social codes constitutes "normal" (that is to say, an expectable) response" (Merton 1968: 185-186), has been endorsed by students of "white-collar crime" (cf. Aubert 1968: 177; Spencer 1968: 337). Organisations constitute themselves distinct s~cial structures: the members of which are confronted by special behavlOur:al expectations (cf. Hall 1977: 26). They should not be considered, however, in isolation from other social structures and the wider society. So, the same actor under different conditions and in different roles may behave in very different manner. It would be erroneouS to assert that people who engaged in "reckless" activities at work and in certain c~nditions d~ so always and at every phase of their daily life. According to Bralthwalte,
,:ill
In support of this argument, Braithwaite has cited a study of management students from ten countnes carried out by Armstrong (1977). The students were asked to play the roles of board members of a pharma.'
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drug which eVidently endangers human life. Seventy-nine per cent of them acted in exactly the same way as a company (Upjohn) did, in real life: they refused to remove the drug and attempted to prevent a government ban via legal and political manoeuvres. On the other hand, when the struchrral setting was modified for them, and they were asked to play roles in boards including public-interest directors, their decisions were more sOcially responsible. Such behaviour and decisions, Can be seen as adaptations to both cultural and organisational expectationsthough other factors, such as the perceived state of the environment, personal beliefs and idiosyncracies would have to be taken into account for a fuller pichlre (cf. Simon 1976: 43-44). Multiple and contradictory as organisational ends may often be, the goal of profit cannot be overlooked. Moreover, this goal may have to be attained by nil 11Iea115, particularly when the continuation of the corporation is at stake (cf. Scherer 1980: 38; cf. also Box 1983: 35; that this also applies to non-profit organisations has been argued by Vaughan [1983], 1985: 63). Uncertainty, competition, technological improvements adding to the efficiency of other more powerful firms, and pursuit of parallel goals render the task formidable. In addition, anti-trust and other legislations disallow certain manoeuvres. TIle state has been increasingly intervening by stipulating acceptable standards by which legitimate economic objeclives should be pursued (Carson 1975: 225) and official attitudes towards the regulation of Ille upper world are recently changing (Levi 1987: 15). As a result, the legally prescribed channels leading to the realisation of corporate objectives are relatively restricted. 'The employment of deviant methods, therefore, may be the only possible way of dealing with problematic situations, or may be perceived as such. Finney and Lesieur's conclusion, that "organisations ... col1l1lIit crillres to achieve their objectives and solve tlleir problems and that commitment to deviant courses of action involves normal processes of decision making under conditions of limited rationality" (Finney and Lesieur 1982: 289; emphasis added), suggests that corporate deviance can be described in terms of organisational "innovation" (in the Mertonian sense). Box has also argued that, being a" goal-seeking entity" makes a corporation "inherently criminogenic, for it necessarily operates in an uncertain and unpredictable environment such that its purely legitimate opportlllliUes for goal achievement are sometimes limited and constrained" (Box 1983: 35, emphasis added). In these cases, there is a strain towards innovative solutions, ranging from acceptable practices to illegal "innovation" (cf. Box 1983: 36). The "incredible" electrical conspiracy (cf. Smith 1970), which received a great deal of publicity in the USA back in 1961 and resulted in nr;,",,"
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215
wards the reduction of such uncertainty and profit (Geis 1968: 116). As Geis has noted, these are motives behind much human actiVity, not only deviant. The cultural accent on success and money, however, omnipresent in the business world and thereby strengthened even more, makes for "innovation" rather than "conformity," particularly in competitive conditions. The continuing uncovering of often planned and dangerous corporate illegalities in various industries indicates that Illey are, in fact, anything but rare (most presidents of the thousand top North-American manufacturing firms have supported this view; cf. Green 1972: 149-150 and 472). A study of a large number of trade violations has further indicated that they are related to the environmental scarcity of resources (Staw and Szwajkowski 1975). This highlights the fact that the pursuit of money (whether it represents a means or a goal in itself), can be regarded-in abstract-as a goal, the over-commitment to which is responsible for many a deviant act. In this way, one need not give the impression of "squeezing" complicated social facts into the Mertonian framework, as Vaughan might have done. She has convincingly argued that scarcity of resources leads to unlawful organisational behaviour, but has unnecessarily referred to a scarcity of means and ends (and "scarcity of ends" is difficult to conceive as conducive to "innovation," which pre-supposes the retention of a legitimate goal): The structural availability of both ends and means can be limited ... not only by insufficient supply, but also by the inability or unwillingness to obtain a commodity at a given price. Thus, some scarcity can always exists. And when the competitor is threatened with potential loss in that legitimate competition due to scarcity of means or ends, innovation may result. (Vaughan [1983], 1985,58)
In any event, the point is that one would expect a high rate of deviance among the corporations facing difficulties. Indeed, Clinard and Yeager's extensive study has found an association between financial performance and illegalities, as "firms in depressed industries as well as relatively poorly performing firms in all industries tend to violate the law to greater degrees" (Clinard and Yeager 1980: 129). Nevertheless, it is not only problematic or unsuccessful firms which violate the law (and only a theory based solely on "objective deprivation" would expect this to be the case). The same authors have also found that some well established industries (e.g., oil, pharmaceutical and car industries) are more deviant than others, and added that a firm's size, growth and success cannot provide, by themselves, a sound basis for predictions of illegal behaviour (Clinard and Yeager 1980: 104-107 and 132: cf. also Braithwaite [1984],1986). Subjective---or, more appropriately for organisations, in<._. _ _ 1
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216
Anomie
they are not "really" So. Furthermore, with the continuous renewal of g~als once the previous ones have been achieved, strains can always anse. Under co~bin~d ~res/s~es, highly placed individuals may perpetr~te offences, In tI:err firm 5 mterest. According to Gross, "persons who Will ,engage In cnme On behalf of the organisation will most likely be ... lts top people" (Gross 1978a: 71). None the less, a large proportion of corporate deVIance 15 actually committed by middle-range officials, and results from pressures from the top. That is, personal ambitions of those at the top as well as organisational demands may create internal pressures on those less highly located, possibly independently from external pressures. A possible reaction of those in the middle, who strive for upward mobility within the corporation, is to break ethical and legal rules. Thu:" Gr~5s' argument that people violate the law, "should it seem to be reqUIred.n: order to enable the organisation to attain its goals, to prosper, or, rrurumally, to survive" (Gross 1978a: 72), may be applied both to those at. the top and to those who aspire to get there. .Upon a reVIew of several studies, Box has argued that it is not only ~r sunply tha~ ~ubordinates receive "offers they can't refuse," but that c~rporate offiCIals are frequently placed in a position where they are reqUITed to choose between impairing their career chances or being a loyal organisational person" (Box 1983: 42). Under these circumstances, ei~her becaus,; of fea~ t? lose their jobs or because of a strong desire to get ~ea~, . the recIpIents of such pressures are likely to do "the dirty work. This.'5 congruent with evidence cited by Box (1983: 42-43). In addition, here are the words of a cashier who broke the law without informing his superiors: "There is no doubt that I juggled the books bu~ I was under orders to balan~e the books no matter what means" (quot~ ed ID Cressey 1953: 63, emphaSIS added). Among the details of a fraud known as. the "Equity Funding Case" in the D.S.A. which "resulted in losses estimated at $2 billion, the victims being the company's insurance customers," Clinard and his colleagues have reported that, At comp~ll¥ dire~tioll, one computer specialist created fictitious insuranc.e poliCIes ~~th a value of $430 million, with yearly premiums totallIng $5.5 million. (Clinard et al. 1979: 15, emphasis added)
P: pharmaceutical executive has pointed out that, if a lower level executive goes to the president to consult him about the solution of a problem and the president says ' "Look, it'~ ~our co~cem to get arOl~nd ~ problem the best way you can. I dOH t want to know !Jaw YOll do It, but Jllst get the job dOlle", then the lo~er level executive will go and bend the rules. (Quoted in Braithwalte [1984], 1986: 322, emphasis added)
15. Nil
217
As has been observed, sometimes .' .goals are set too lligh or are simply tlHreasollaule. Then, an employee often confronts a hard choice-to risk being branded incompetellt by telling superiors that they ask too much, or to begin taking rH/ethical or illegal shortcuts. (Getschow 1979: 1, emphasis added)
CUnard's survey has revealed that "middle management was clearly of the opinion that the very nature of top management's position and its achlal behaviour is largely responsible for unethical or illegal corporate behaviour" and that it "sets the ethical tone of the corporation" (Clinard 1983: 71 and 89). According to Clinard's respondents, middle management works under many pressures, the most important being pressures to show profits and to keep costs in line, time pressures, and production and sales quotas (Clinard 1983: 91). 90.6 per cent of the executives said that "they felt such pressures do lead to unethical behaviour within a corporation" (Clinard 1983: 95; cf. also 140-144). In brief, Clinard's subjects believed that, although external forces are not negligible, internal pressures, individual ethics and personal ambitions contribute greatly to corporate deviance. Aubert has analysed his data £ram research conducted in Nonvay in terms of "universalistic" and "particularistic obligations" (cf. Stouffer and Toby 1951). He has pointed out that people's roles as members of the business community, on the one hand, and as law-abiding citizens, on the other, are often in conflict (cf. also Baumhart 1968: 129-130). When the former takes precedence over the latter, law violations are likely to occur: The felt universalistic obligation is to obey the law, an Obligation which finds some support in the "general sense of justice," bllt wlliclr is /lot fortified by venj strong or efficient sUllctioJls against breach. The felt par ticularistic obligation implies avoidance only of certain blatant offences and, on the other hand, resistance to these laws in general. This is aH obligation to busi1less colleagues, supported by tlleil' ideology alldfreqllelltly also by profit motives. (Aubert 1968: 179-180, emphasis added) But, not all business people will attempt to resolve such a conflict in the same fashion. An implication of this is that further inquiry into the conditions, under which allegiance to this or that reference group prevails, may enhance our understanding of both deviance and conformity. Much of corporate deviance can be described as "non-conformity," in the sense that breach of legal norms constitutes, at the same time, behaviour conforming to standards and procedures prevalent in the corporate world. Such standards may emerge out of efforts to deal with problematic situations and structurally generated strains. They may be further promntf'o ano maintainp:o. hnwp:vP:r. thrOllP'h nrn('Pssp:s of intpT
218
Anomie
leading to widespread rationalisatioTIs, which "excuse" or even "legitimise" illegal practices. In his study of embezzlement, Cressey (1953) has shown how verbalisations enabling illegalities and preserving respectability (at least, subjectively) are used by individuals acting for the:nsel~es. In the context of corporations, where personal and organisational mterests often go hand in hand, the significance of such "excuses" can be even greater. Self-esteem is more easily maintained as ~eviant acts are committed on behalf of the firm, though these are also mstnunental to the achievement of personal ends. This has been encapsulated very well in a judge's statement-describing what sociologists ~ould ,call "non-conformity"-before he passed the sentence to particIpants ID the electrical conspiracy in USA: T~ey were torn ~etvvee!,- c~n5cience and ~ approved corporate policy, WIU1 U1e r~warding objective of promohol1, comfortable security, and larg~ salanes. They were the organisation, or company, man; tile COIIf01·I1.II~t wllO goes alollg with his superiors and finds balm for his conscience in ?ddltJ~"al comforts and securihJ of his place ill tile COlporatc set-lip. (Quoted ID GelS 1968: 111, emphasis added)
Ration~lisati~ns and systematised beliefs about the "business-like" way of dealing With things may come together and form deviant sub-cultures. While such sub-cultures or "ideologies" may come into existence-within a corporation or, more generally, among business people-as a result of structural strains, they are also transmitted as a generalisation by phrases such as 'we are not in business for our health', 'business is business', or 'no business was ever built on the beatitudes'" (Sutherland [1949], 1961: 240). As a consequence, their respect for, and commItment to, the law (or, more accurately, particular laws) is decreased. Anomic trends may then ensue, as the use of profitable and ef~ective ~ut illegal techniques becomes widespread and conveys the lffipresslOn th~t successful business and law are sometimes incompatible. As a convIcted corporate official characteristically put it, JI
~o o~e attending the ~athering [of the conspirators] was so stupid he dldn t kn?w the meetings were violations of the law. But it is the only way a bllsmess call be ntn. It's free enterprise. (Quoted in CUnard and Yeager 1980: 298, emphasis added)
This may be genuinely believed by those who engage in illegal behavIOur. TIus very fact, nevertheless, illustrates the degree of anomie in the
realm of business, since law-breaking and respectability are not thought to be mutually exclusive. Business represents a legitimate activity and, to be sure, benefits society in many ways. But, when the cliche "business is business" is uttered in defence of law Violations, the lines between what i.:: lpo-itiITl""t", ::1.,..,rI ",h",,;c ;110 ....;1-.; ........ 1-....... .-.~
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offenders are in a better position to neutralise or rationalise their acts, and at the same tinle preserve their self-esteem. With weakened support for lawful behaviour, considerations of cost and profit take precedence over others. As CUnard has observed, one may expect that, ... a corporation is most likely to engage in unlawful conduct WheJI SJlPport diminislies for legitimate procedures to be llsed ill reae/ling tile prOfit goal, Under these conditions, firms may violate anti-trust laws and U1e regulations of the TIC, OSHA, EPA, and other agencies if, by colllplying, the costs to the corporation will be too Iligh. (Clinard 1983: 18, emphasis added) FfA =' Federal Trade Commission. EPA == Environmental Protection Agency, OSHA '" Occupational Safety and Health Administration.
Matza introduced the concept of "drift" to describe the "episodic release from moral constraint," a crucial part of the process leading to delinquency (Matza 1964: 69). He has avoided the related term "anontie," partly because of its polysemy and partly to "suggest the episodic rather than constant character of moral release" (Matza 1964: 69). Given that "anomie," as employed here, is a matter of degree and refers to tendencies towards the weakening of people's allegiance to prevailing social standards, Matza's contribution is relevant and can be regarded, to a certain extent, as complementary. It may be proposed that cultural messages of success, structural strains, neutralisations converting "infraction into mere action" and enabling "drift' (Matza 1964: 176), and anomie may be part of a complex circle conducive to deviant behaviour. It must be stressed, however, that we are not dealing here with juvenile "drifters," but with respected adults in powerful and influential positions. Similarities in the mechanisms leading to deviance, in general, ought not to cloud the differences in the extent, content and consequences of techniques of neutralisation and rule-breaking behaviour in diverse structural locations. Slogans, such as "I didn't do it for myself," which prepare the ground for law violations (cf. Sykes and Matza 1957), are not only available to young delinquents, but also to company executives. However, the demands of the larger society are not sacrificed for those of a gang or friendship clique, but in the interest of small and large corporations and their shareholders. Furthermore, unlawful practices are knmvn and common enough for corporate officials to resort to them as the only way of coping with competition. The wider environment and economic necessities may jointly make for deviance and anomie, since highly placed mangers sometimes operate on the assumption (if not certainty) that other companies do break the law. As a _ . . . ..l. __
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15. Nikos Passas
Anomie
vealed, they feel that, when the interests of their shareholders are COncerned, they have no right to wrap themselves "in the mantle of moral philosophers and judges." More interestingly, some argued that the economic survival of the corporation "sometimes dictated that they violate the law; if they did not, their stockholders would suffer, and otlzerjir1llS "with less scrupulolls 11lallage1llel1t would win Ollt" (Silk and Vogel 1976: 228, emphasis added). Sutherland has pointed out that, while perpetrators of "white-collar crime" do not see themselves as "conforming to the stereotype of 'criminal', they do customarily think of themselves as "law violators'" (Sutherland [1949], 1961: 223). This is confirmed by a high-rank official of a distilling company, whose comment also indicates the degree of anomie and disrespect for legal standards: "We break the laws every day. If YOIl think I go to bed at llight worrying about it, you're crazy. Everybody breaks the law. The liquor laws are insane anyway" (quoted in Denzen 1977: 919, emphasis added). The development of such attitudes intensifies existing anomic trends, and illegalities are perceived as an often indispensable part of the ordinary way of going about business. Once the degree of anomie has become comparatively acute, deviant acts may be committed even in absence of particular problems or pressures: "Carried to the extreme," Vaughan has remarked, "norm erosion might become so extensive within an organisation that unlawful conduct occurs regardless of reSOllrce scareilt/, (Vaughan (1983), 1985: 61, emphasis added). TIle anornie climate may be illustrated by some practices of large corporations, the complexity of which makes it difficult or impossible to identify concrete individuals as liable for corporate offences. Corporate deviance, then, may be either directly or indirectly traceable to corporate elites. That is, deviance may be an intended or unintended consequence of the pursuit of high goals, as the responsibility for their achievement has been delegated to subordinates, who might bend the rules without informing the top officials (cf. Ermann and Lundman 1982: 10-11). Furthermore, in big companies, as in all bureaucratic structures, the implementation of decisions involves several stages, tasks are fragmented and delegated to many different units, and people are separated from the ultimate consequences of tlleIT actions. In such criminogenic situations (Gross 1978a; Jackal 1980), there may exist a long distance between the "criminal act" and the "criminal mind" (Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 308). This, however, does not mean that corporate officials are unaware of the fact that illegal acts are being committed. Instead of establishing procedures and controls in order to prevent them, some companies not onLy tolerate them, but create a special post for a person to be blamed, in case serious offences are discovered. It has been re-
221
parted that the position of "vice-president responsible for going to jail" has existed in some companies, where Lines of accountability had been drawn in the orgar.i.sation such that if there were a problem and someone's he~d had to go ~n the chopping block, it would be that of tile "vice-presldent responslble for gomg to
jail." (Braithwaite [1984], 1986, 308) In an environment dominated by concerns of costs and benefits, a lack of effective social control is likely to promote processes resulting in deviance and anomie. It seems that deterrence of corporate deviance is not among the priority targets of societies pursuing "law and order." This is small wonder, given that implicated in such activities are people of great social significance, economic and political power. The relative immunity and impunity of executives (especially those at the top), which has been found to be a factor contributing to corporate deviance (cf. Clinard and Yeager 1980), and the complicated issues involved in the legislation and implementation of laws regulating corporations a~e reiterated in the literature (cf. Carson [1971], 1975; Pearce 1976; Conldin 1977; Tiedemann 1977; Carson 1982; Box 1983; Braithwaite [1984], 1986), and we need not go into detail. It is essential, however, to note that the laxity of authorities, which fails to deter corporate deviance, is a consequence of structural contradictions. It is certainly true that corporations maintain good relations with controlling agencies, and actively participate in the drafting of government regulations. With rapid social changes, aided by technological advancement.?, some patterns of corporate deviance seem inevitable. This, as well as the "non-conformity" of corporate officials, can be analysed in terms of what Merton has called "institutionalised evasions of institutional norms." These develop "when practical exigencies confronting the group or collectivity (or significantly large parts of them) require adaptive behaviour which is at odds with long-standing norms, sentiments, and practices" (Merton 1968: 372). Merton has also outlined processes of interaction between controllers and controlled, whereby the extent of unavoidable deviations from rules and their degree of visibility are continuously re-arranged, so that the maximum objectives of both groups can be attained. The unrestricted observability of role-performance is resisted because strict conformity is often made difficult by situational demands, and because the interests involved are often divergent. Illustrating this, Merton has remarked that, "The strong hostility toward 'close supervision' in business and industry evidently expresses this doubly reinforced objection to the surveillance of roleperformance" (Merton 1968: 397).
222
15. Nikos Passas
Anomie
Complete visibility would disrupt the functioning of the corporations and, as their social and economic importance is anything but negligible, it may negatively affect the whole society. In a statement about the Ancien Regime in France, Foucault had noted that each social stratum had its own margin of tolerated illegality. That "the non-enforcement of rules, the non-observance of innumerable edicts and ordonnances were a condition of the economic alId political fUHctioning of tile sociehj" (Foucault 1975: 84, emphasis added), holds for many institutional norms regulating today's business activities. Moreover, the undesirable consequences of excessive social control are not only described in G. Orwell's 1984, but also realised by criminologists recommending "minimal policing" (albeit for working-class crime; cf. Kinsey et al. 1986). On the other hand, lack of visibility of law-violations and enforcement of the rules promotes deviance and anomie. The target, therefore, would be a compromise on the "functionally optimum degree of visibility" (cf. Merton 1968: 398-400). All this may help understand how laws and regulations are not strict enough or strictly enforced. Existing evidence and estimates of the extent and cost of corporate deviance and crime (cf. Kramer 1984), however, suggest that such optimum has not been reached. Furthermore, it seems that, under the present circumstances, it may be possible for contemporary societies to conciliate certain conflicts in a satisfactory way. Economic national and trans-national concerns often clash with other serious concerns, such as Civil rights, health, safety, etc. Many contradictions and radically opposed values and demands are inextricably linked with prevailing cultural axioms and the capitalist mode of production. The argument that "the world of t1le giant corporatiol1s does not necessarily require t1legal behaviour in order to compete successfully" (Clinard et al. 1979: xix, emphasis in original), has been convincingly challenged. As Gibbons has observed, They based that claim on the fact that 40 per cent of the corporation did not have a legal action taken against them in the rna-year period {they have examined]. However, that conclusion seems weak, given the possibility that many of the forty "non-criminal" corporations may have been involved in undetected violations or may have had legal actions taken against them in earlier years. (Gibbons 1987: 296, emphasis in original)
The "dark figure" of corporate deviance is indeed impossible to calculate with any precision, but there are good reasons to believe that it is immense (cf. Pearce 1976: 90-97; Box 1983: 44-47; Cullen et al. 1987: chapter 2). An important factor contributing to the "dark figure" it also the fact that members of controlling and controlled bodies belong to the ,.,~
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to bring charges (Tiedemann 1977: 25). Further, Carson's study ot the British oil industry has documented how a policy of speedy extraction of reserves, necessary for Britain's position in the world economy, superceded concerns with the workers' safety and led to a high rate of deaths that could have been avoided. One of his central arguments was that, North sea's poor safety record has to be viewed against the background of persistent preoccupation with rapid exploitation .. The preo~cupa tion with haste also penneated the practice of enforcement, contributed to tile maintenance of a "privatised" relationship between controllers and controlled, and became one of the main bones of contention in the internecine wrangling which came to surround the administration of offshore safety in the second half of the 1970s.... Ere long, til.e United Kingdom would have to face up to the economic discipline imposed by a refurbished system of international finance which no longer auto· matically concurred in the view that her aspirations to a major world role warranted special treahnent. (Carson 1982: 9 and 10)
Szasz has also demonstrated how illegal and dangerous actions are sometimes "necessary" for the national economy. He has explored the complex relationship between corporations generating hazardous waste and organised crime participation in its disposal. Following a period of inattention and lack of interest in developing an adequate method of handling hazardous waste, if USA legislators-preparing for Resource Conservation and Recovery Act 1976-had insisted on an immediate shift to proper disposal, a major crisis would have resulted. Representatives of large corporations warned of the risks to the industry that strict measures would entail, and succeeded in shaping the Act, so that their companies would not be liable for the ultimate fate of their wastes (Szasz 1986: 12-14). As Szasz has commented, neither "individual officeholders nor whole governments stay in office long if they pass legis-
lation which, even for the best and 1IIost popular of reasons, brings to a halt industrial sectors central to the national economy" (Szasz 1986: 15, emphasis added). An unintended consequence of that Act has been the entry of organised crime elements, with whom corporations contracted for the treatment and disposition of hazardous waste. In brief, as Levi has concluded his study on fraud, "whether they are market-makers, first-class chefs, or Presidential advisers, those who are socially useful and create our wealth have to be allowed the occasional peccadillo" (Levi 1987: 356-357). Nevertheless, the compleXity ot processes relative to legislation, control and crime show that it would be Simplistic and erroneous to argue that there is some sort of collusion in the ruling classes culminating in corporate deviance, and that "the point of forming a corporation is to avoid personal liability for criminallia1.:1:. __ 11 " , _____
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224
Anomie
j ogists (those who contributed to the "Clinard Report": Clinard et al. 1979) for "not understanding" this and for suggesting measures "well calculated to be ineffective" (Young 1981: 328). Contradictions, such as those sketched above, are inherent to capitalist societies (cf. Krisberg 1975; Pearce 1976; Box 1983), but not only to them. The analysis here has concentrated on capitalist societies. However, Gross (1978b) has argued that the mechanisms leading to corporate deviance are the same, in both capitalist and sodaHst societies: the pursuit of important goals (cited in Braithwaite [1984J, 1986: 368). By taking into account the different priorities set by corporations in Eastern countries and the equally heavy pressures to meet their own goals (e.g. production quota), the Mertonian type of analysis can shed light to processes making tor evasion of established standards there, too (cf. also Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 368). Apart from the relevance of this theoretical framework to Eastern societies, the point is that the type of problems discussed above are not unique to the West, and that no ready-made solutions are available. On the other hand, these processes making for deviance and anomie have wider implications and go beyond the white-collar world. In Western societies~ and especially in North America, there is evidence of an increasing public awareness and concern about deviance and crime comitted by the powerful (cf. Braithwaite 1979: 186; Cullen et al. 1982; Box 1983; 65-66; Cullen et al. 1984: 107-111; Kramer 1984: 27-30; Braithwaite [1984J, 1986: 6-7). The growing public consciousness and sensitivity may create a social climate favourable to more effective regulations and controL In addition, a IIforceful demonstration that the law is failing to realise its own professed principles may have the beneficial effect of shaming it into action" (Box 1983: 66; cf, alEo Kellens 1977: 98-99). As the legitimacy of legal institutions and the state may be thus undermined (Box 1983: 67), however, another (perhaps, parallel) effect may be the creation of a wider anomic context.1 In many cases the gap between principles and practices cannot be closed effectively without disrupting economic life. There are also sodal and technical-legal difficulties, when it comes to sanctions against law violations of large corporations. When the company itself is sentenced, its members and the public at large may be affected. Fines, for instance, may be included in the cost of production and result in increased prices of final products or services. To cite a concrete example~ top executives of the companies involved in the electrical conspiracy and fined a total of $1.8 million, "persuaded the internal Revenue Service that all legal expenses, fines, and damages could be written off as 'ordinary and necessary' expenses of doing business" (McCaghy 1985: 226). Further, it may not be possible
undue lenience can bring about anomic attitudes: disrespect for crinrinru law or withdrawal of allegiance to the values underpinning it. In his pioneering work on IIw hite-collar crimes," Sutherland has maintained that they constitute violations of "trust and therefore create distrust; this lowers social morale nnd produces social disorganisation" (Sutherland [1949J, 1961: 13, emphasiS added). it is smaller wonder, then, that he saw the analysis of processes of "differential association" as complementary to analyses of "allomie or the lack of standards which direct the behaviour of members of the society in general or in specific areas of behaviour" (Sutherland [1949J, 1961: 253; emphasis in original). Dahrendorf's (1985) recent analysis of "Law and Order" has also suggested that disregard of the law, patterns of impunity and relaxation of normative constraints bring the society ., on the road to Anomia" (though, being chiefly concerned with the lIunderclass," he has not brought out the significance of his argument for the upper classes). Moreover~ anomic tendencies and cynicism may spread, as people from ail strata know about serious deviant acts committed by incumbents of privileged positions. Perceptions of non-observance of legal and propriety standards in high social positions can lead to a weakening or withdrawal of allegiance to these standards by those in lower ranks. Justifications may be thus prOvided for acts not in accord with widely held values or for J'neutralisations" of these values. In other cases, the outcome can be that these values themselves are undermined, and disrespect of the law or desire for revenge may ensue, The potential of such consequences of corporate deviance has been mentioned by several scholars (along with supportive evidence), though not in terms of "anornic" conditions or tendencies (e.g., Clinard and Abbott 1973: 57; Conldin 1977: 8; Leigh 1977: 129; Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 321; Gibbons 1987: 297). It ought not to be overtooked, however~ that processes conducive to deviance and anomie do not originate only in the upper social reaches. Similar nlechanisms operate in the lower ones and bring about or support, among others, "organised crime." Merton's analysis of the political machine has shown how it represents an alternative route to success for those "excluded from the more conventional avenues for personal'advancement' " (Merton 1968: 130). Organised crime provided another channel for those socially disadvantaged. As Whyte has observed.
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Politics and the rackets have funtished an important means of sodal mobility for individuals, who, because of ethnic background and low class position, are blocked from advancement in the "respectable" channels. (Whyte 1943, quoted in Merton 1968: 132)
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Anomie
dealings with both. The two constitute responses to similar cultural and economic demands: In both instances, many features of the structural contexts are identical: (1) market demand for goods and servicesj (2) the operator's concern with maximising gains from their enterprises; (3) the need for partial control of government which might oUlerwise interfere with these activities of businessmen; (4) the need for an efficient, powerful and centralised agency to provide and effective liaison of "business" with government. (Merton 1968: 134)
There are by now several studies documenting inter-relationships behveen respectable people and organisations with organised crime, which is fostered by structural discrepancies, responds to societal demands, adapts to social changes, is "stratified" and operates in a way similar to legitimate business (cf., among many others, McIntosh [1971J, 1982 and 1975; Chambliss 1976; Adacchi 1986; Sza5z 1986; Smart 1988). An important implication of studies on high-status occupational deviance (Passas 1989), corporate deviance and organised crime, therefore, is that cultural and structural contradictions penneate the whole society. The (analytically) same mechanisms operate in the upper and the lower 50cialsegments of contemporary societies. The outcomes are expected to be different, however, as they depend on the particular opportunities offered to people to act in legitimate or illegitimate manner.2
CONCLUSION Durkheim ([1930J, 1983) has stressed the chronic state of anomie in the realm of industry and trade, whereas Merton emphasised the pressures leading to high rates of deviance and more acute anomie in the lower strata. The foregoing analysis suggests that each of them has illuminated part of the same social phenomenon, and that their insights as well as those of other theorists are not mutually exclusive, but quite compatible and, to a certain extent, complementary. The processes leading to deviance, anomie and further deviance can be "thought," schernatically, as follows: structurally induced problems and strains make for deviance; when situations calling for problemsolving departures from institutional norms persist, social interactions foster the development of deviant but effective patterns of action, along with (subcultural) rationalisations "justifying" them. Given the existence and "legitimation" of such practices, more of them can occur even in absence of any compelling pressures. Such interactions amplifying deviance could be disrupted and minimised through mechanisms of social control. Additional contradictions. hnwpvpr Ip::l.1incr ~n :> r"'!"H., ..... : ..... ~ •• ~~ ....... _! .. _ _ ~ . . . 1 ..
227
'duals and legitimate corporations, sustain and perpetuate such an hI SOCIety. . ano rIDC climate affecting (at least, potentially) the woe Corporate deviance is seen as a product of existin? cultural, structural and economic demands and arrangements. Iromcally, the forces enabling technological achievements, economic development, prosperity and growth are simultaneously conditions conducive to the .commitment of harmful and, sometimes, frightful deviant acts. HIghly valued objectives are frequently attained at the expense of other rightly cherished values and life-standards. Cases, such as illegal dumpmg of toxic and nuclear waste and pollution of the environment with disastrous short- and long-term effects, industrial accidents due to non-observance of safety regulations, non-withdrawal of dangerous pharmaceutical products from the market, consumer fr~uds undermining public health, computer-related offences, ~conorruc frauds ~pset ting the economic life, are regularly reported m the mass medIa, but represent only the tip of a multiply hazardous iceberg. TIle fact that upper-world and corporate deviance is not always labeled and punished as criminal does not stop it from being economically and socially undesirable and costly. It is in view of these facts that official statistics and research showing higher rates of crime among the lower classes have to be considered (e.g., Braithwaite 1981). Data relative to what is labeled by the authorities as crime do not reflect rates of serious and consequential deviant behaviour. We have seen that departures from institutional norms occur in all structural positions. It becomes clear that criminal statistics and research on crime are of limited value, when the object of study is deviance, rather than an officially selected part of it. That is, the above sources may provide useful information and knowledge about the relationship between social strata and acts prohibited by the law and handled by criminal courts. However, they can do very little by way of highlighting the relationship between sooal strata and socially undesirable and harmful departures from Institutional rules and norms. If their importance and significance is to be gauged by the social and economic cost to the society, the devianc.e of ~e powerful (however defined officially) is more dangerous and dlsqilleting, as the rising levels of public sensitivity also testify. This is not to underplay the significance of predatory street-crime. It does represent a grave social problem and it has to be "fought against" (Wilson 1975; Lea and Young 1984; Kinsey et a1. 1986). It appears, however, exaggerated to argue that it constitutes the crime problem and that it is "a far more serious matter than consumer fraud, anti-trust violations, etc" (Wilson 1975: xx). Because, meaningful humane communities are jeopardised also by such offences: a study of "over 1,000 indlviduals found
~
228
Anomie
tently being sold shoddy products and had little or no faith in the marketplace. They felt that no one really cared about the consuming public" (Bequai 1978: 12). From the preceding analysis it follows that corporate deviance is a very serious social problem. In spite of difficulties in controlling it effectively and the high costs of control itself to the society, our priorities may have to be re-evaluated. One has to pose and try to answer the pressing questions: what are the acceptable limits of tolerance? What means of conlTol can be implemented (d., for example, Braithwaite 1982 and [1984], 1986: chapter 9)? What are the available functional alternatives (i.e., realisation of the prevailing cultural goals by means of alternative strategies)? What structural alternatives (radical re-shaping of existing structural and economic arrangements and revision of some of the cultural goals themselves, given the exorbitant price we have to pay for them) could be worked out realistically?
NOTES
Box, S., IdeoloS1), Crime and Mystification (London and New York Tavistock, 1983). Bradley, D. and R. Wilkie, Tile Concepts of Organisation (Glasgow and London: Blockie, 1974). Braithwaite, J., "The Myth of Social Clas and Criminality Reconsidered," American Sociological Rt'view, 1981 (46: 1), 36-57. Braithwaite, J., "Enforced Self-Regulation: A New Strategy for Corporate Crime Control" Michigall Law Review, 1982 (80: 7), 1466--1507. Braithwaite, J., Corporate Crime ill tile Plw1"macclll'ical Industry (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, [1984], 1986). Carson, W.G., "White-Color Crime and the Enforcement of Factory Legislation," in W.G. Carson and P. Wiles (eds.) TIll! Sociology DJ Crime alld Delil1qllel1cy ill Britain (London: Martin Robertson, [19711, 1975), Vol. 1,220-236. Carson, W.G., Tile Otller Price of Britain's Oil: Safety alld COl1tl"ol ill tlIe Nortll Sen (Oxford: Martin Robertson, 1982). Chambliss, W.J., "Vice, Corruption, Bureaucracy and Power." in W.}. Chambliss nnd M. Mankoff (eds.), Wlwse Law? What Order? A COIiflict Approac11 to Crimil1ology (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1976), 162-183. Clinmd, M.B., Corpomte Etllics IIl1d Crime (London: Sage, 1983).
1.
2.
This is not necessarily problematic or negative. An anomic context may well be the companion or predecessor of desirable social change (cf. Passas 1988). Cullen's (1984) discussion of "structuring variables," the factors influencing the content and form of deviant behaviour, is quite relevant here.
Clinard, M.B. and D.J. Abbott, Crime in Developing CVIII/tries: A Comparati"ve Perspective (New York: John WHey & Sons, 1973). Clinard, M.B. and R. Quinney, Crimil1al Belwvior Systems: A Typology (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1973). Clinard, M.B., r.C Yeager, J. Brissette, D. Petrashekand E. Harries, Illegal Corporate Beluwior (Washington, ne.: Law Enforcement Assistance Administra-
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v., "White-Collar Crime and Social Structure," in G. Geis (ed.). White-
Collar Crimillal: Tile OffCllder ill Business alld the Professiolls (New York: Atherton Press, 1968), 173-184.
tion, 1979). Clinard, M.B. and P.e. Yeager, Corpornte Crime (New York: The Free Press, 1980). Conklin, J., Illegnl But Not Criminal: BHsiJ1ess Crime ill America (Englewood CWfs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1977). Cressey, D.R., Gt/ZCI" People's Money: A SWdy iu t/le Social Psyc1lOlogy of Embezzlement (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1953). Cullen, ET., Ret/lil1kblg Crime and Deviance Tlleory: Tile Emergence of a Strllctur~ iug Tradition (Totowa, New Jersey: Rowman & Allanheld, 1984).
Baumhart,
Cullen, F., B.G. Link, and e.W. Polanzi, "The Seriousness of Crime Revisited: Have Attitudes Toward White-Collar Crime Changed?" Criminology, 1982
Bequai, A, vVlJite-Collar Crime: A Twentieth Century Crisis (Lexington and Toronto: D.C Heath, 1978).
Cullen, ET., W.}. Maakestad, and G. Cavender, "The Ford Pinto Case and Beyond: Corporate Crime, Moral Boundaries and the Cr~nal Sanction," in E. Hochstedler {ed.}, Corporations as Criminals {Beverly Hllis, London and New
R.e., "How Ethical Are Businessmen?" in G. Geis (ed.), White-Collal" Crimillal: The Offender ill BlIsiHess alld the Professiolls (New York: Atherton Press, 1968), 119-135.
Bo.:-vles, S. and R Edwards, Understanding Capitalism (New York: Harper and
(20: 1), 83-102.
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Cullen, FT., W.]. Maakestad, and G. Cavender, Corpomte Crime Under Attack (Cincirmati: Anderson, 1987).
Lea,J. and J. Young, What is to be dOlle about Law and Order? (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1984).
Dahrendorf, Kt Lnu nHd Order: Tlte HlI1l1lyll Lectures (London: Stevens & Son, 1985).
Leigh, L.H., "Policy and Punitive Measures in Respect of Economic Offences," in European Committe on Crime Problems, Criminological Aspects of ECOJlOIILIc Crime (Strasbourg, 1977), 113-180.
Oenzen, N.K., "Notes on the Criminogenic Hypothesis: A Case Study of the American Liquor Industry," Americall Sociological Review, 1977 (42: 6), 905-920. Durkheim, E. Suicide (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, [1930], 1983). I
Ennann, M.D. and R.J. Lundman, Corporate DevimlCe (New York Halt, Rinehart & Winston, 1982). Finney, H.C. and H.R. Lcsieur, "A Contingency Theory of Organizational Crime," in S.B. Bacharach (ed.), Research ill tile Sociologtj of Orgallizatiolls (Greenwich, et: IAl Press, 1982). Foucault, M., Surveiller et PUHir (Paris: Gallimard, 1975).
Geis, G., "TIle Heavy Electrical Equipment Antitrust Cases of 1961," in G. Geis (ed.), White-Col/ar Criminal: Tile Offellder ill BlIsillf.'ss and the Professions (New York Atherton Press, 1968), 103-118.
Levi, M., Regtt/ating Fraud: White-Collar Crime and the Criminal Process (London and New York: Tavistock, 1987). Matzil, D., Becolld!Jg Deviant (Englewood Cliffs: Prenlice Hall, 1969). McIntosh, M., "Changes in the Organisation of Thieving," in S. Cohen (ed.), Images of Devwnce (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, [1971],1982). Mdntosh, M., Tile Organisation of Crime (London and Basingstoke: Macmillian, 1975). Mertoo, R.K., "Priorities in Scientific Discovery: A Chapter in the Sociology of Science," AmericaJt SOciological Review, 1957 (22: 6), 635--659. Mertoo, RK., Social Tlzeory and Sacinl Structure (New York: The Free Press, 1968).
Getschow, G., "Some "Middle Managers Cut Corners to Achieve High Corporate Goals," The Wall Street JOllnlaI, 1979 {Nov. 8:1}.
pussas, N., "Anomie and Relative Deprivation," paper presented at the plenary session of the armual meeting of the Eastern [American] Sociological Society (Boston, U.5.A., 1987).
Gibbons, D.C, Society, Crime and Criminal Belwvior, 5th ed. (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1987).
Pnssils, N., "Merton's Theory of Anomie and Deviance: an Elaboration," Ph. D. thesis, University of Edinburgh, Scotland, 1988).
Green, M.L The Closed ElIterprise System: Ra/ph Nader's Study Group Report Oil AHtitllrst Ell/orcement (New York: Grossman, 1972).
Passas, N., "Understanding High Status Occupational Deviance/, paper delivered at the Annual Socio-Legal Conference (Endinburgh, Scotland, 1989).
Gross, E., "Organisational Crime: A Theoretical Perspective," in N. Denzin (ed.), Sttldies ill Symbo/(c Illteraetion (Greenwich: JAl Press, 1978a), 55-85.
Pearce, F., Tile Crimes of the Powerful: MarxislII, DL'"vin!1ce !lHd Crime (London: Pluto Press, 1976).
Gross, E., "Organisations as Criminal Actors," in). Braitbwaite and P. Wilson (eds.), Tile Two Faces of Deviance (St. Lucia, Queensland: Queensland University Press, 1978b), 199-213.
Peters, T}. and R.H. Watennan, Jr., In Search of Excel/wee: Lessons from America's Best RUll Corporatiolls (New York Harper & Row, 1982).
Hall, R.H., Organisations: Stmctllre altd Process (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1977). Jackall, R, "Crime in the Suites," Contemporary Sociology, 1980 (9: 3), 354-358.
Scherer, F.M., Industrial Market Stn/dufe and Economic Perfonuance (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1980). Schrager, L.S., andJ.F. Short, Jr., "Toward a Sociology of Organisational Crime," Social Problems, 1978 (25: 4), 407-419.
Kellens, G., "Sociological and Psychololgical Aspects [of Economic Crime)," in European Committee on Crime Problems, Criminological Aspects ojEcollomic Crime (Strasbourg, 1977). 69-111.
Siege!, L.J., Criminology (St. Paul: West, 1983).
Kinsey, R., J. Lea and]. Young, Losing the Fight Agailtst Crime (Oxford: Black~ well, 1986).
Simon, H.A., "Theories of Decision Making in Economics and Behavioural Sci~ ence," in EG. Castles, D.J. Murray, CJ. Pollitt and D.e Potter (eds.), Decisions, Orgam'sntioHS aJ1d Society (Hamtondsworth: Penguin Books, 1976), 30-48.
Kramer, R.C, "Corporate Criminality: the Development of an Idea," in E. Hochstedler (ed.), Corporations as Crimillals {Beverly Hills and London: Sage, 184),13-37. Krisberg, B., O'imc and Privilege: Toward a New Criminology (Englewood Cliffs: Prenace Hall, 1975).
Silk, L. and D. Vogel, Ethics al1d Pl"Ofits: Tlze Crisis of COItjidcllce in American Business (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1976).
Smart, A., "The Informal Regulation of Illegal Economic Activities: Comparisons between the Squatter Property Market and Organised Crime," IntematiOf1Ul Journal of the Sociology of Law, 1988 (16: 1), 91-101.
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Savitz and N. Johnston (eds.), rite Socioiogtj of Crime alld Delinquency (New
York Wiley, 1970),529-548. Spencer, I·C., A Study of Incarcerated White-Collar Offenders, in G. Geis (ed.), White-Collar Crimillal: The Offellder ill Bllsiness and the ProjessiollS (New York: Atherlon Press, 1968), 335-346. Staw, B.M. and E. Szwajkowski, ''The Scarcity-Munificence Component of Organsational Enviroments and the Commission of illegal Acts," Administrative Science Quarterly, 1975 (20: 3),345-354. Slinchcombe, A.L., "Merton's Theory of Social Structure," in L.A Caser, (ed.), The Idea of Social Structure: Papers ill HOllor of Robert K. Mertoll (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1975), 11-23.
CHAPTER
IV Differential Association and Neutralization
Stouffer, S. and J. Toby, "Role Conflict and Personality," American JOHmal of Sociology, 1951, (56: 5), 395-406. Sutherland, E.H., White-Collar Crime (New York: Halt, Rinehart and Wins ton, [1949], 1961). Sykes, G.M. and D. Matza, "Techniques of Neutralisation: A Theory of Delinquency," American Sociological Review, 1957 (22: 6), 664-670. Szasz, A., "Corporations, Organized Crime, and the Disposal of Hazardous Waste: An Examination of the Making of a Criminogenic Regulatory Structure," Crimillology, 1986 (24: 1), 1-27. Tiedemann, K, "Phenomenology of Economic Crime," in European Conunitee on Crime Problems, Criminological Aspects ofEco1lomic Crime (Strasbourg, 1977),9-68. Vaughan, E., "Toward Understanding Unlawful Organizational Behavior," Michigan Law Review, 1982, (80: 7), 1377-1402. Vaughan, E., Controlling Unlawfill Orgu1IizatiOlwl Be1wvior: Social Structure alld Corporate Misconduct (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, [1983], 1985). Whyte, W.E, "Social Organisation in the Slums,"American Sociological Review, 1943, (8),34-39. Wilson, J.Q., ThinkiJlg Abollt Crime (New York: Vintage, 1975). Young, T., "Corporate Crime: A Critique of the Clinard Report," Contemporary Crises, 1981 (5), 323-336.
The theoretical approaches discussed in the preceding chapters-functionalism, social disorganization, and anomie--all concentrate on the relationship behveen social structure and deviance. They examine societal structural conditions that are conducive to the development and perpetuation of deviant behavior. None of these approaches, however, adequately specifies the processes by which situations conducive to deviance are actually translated into action by individuals. The theory presented in this chapter represents an attempt to explicate the links between social structural conditions and individuals' deviant behavior. Differential association and neutralization theory share the basic viewpoint that deviant behavior is learned in much the same way that conforming behavior is. While the processes involved in learning any behavior pattern are essentially the same, the content and directions of the learning differ as individuals respond to the varying pressures and constraints or their environment. As an explanation of the processes by which people learn to behave in violation of conventional norms, Edwin H. Sutherland's theory of differential association has had an impact on sociology in general and the study of deviance in particular that has been at least as great as that of social disorganization and anomie theories. In noting the effects of social structure on behavior, Sutherland acknowledged the importance of what he called differential social organization and differential association. His focus, however, was less on social structure and more on the interactional processes or associations that are involved in transmitting and learning any behavior, deviant or conforming. Sutherland challenged the prevailing determinism of disorganization and anomie theories and the concept of lower-class deviance, in«tp:'J..-l h::lt::incr hit:: i..-lprt_t:: on thp notion that hhrh rates of deviance (crime.
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for instance) are due to factors related to the differential organization of various geographical areas. Deviant behavior therefore is not simply a reaction to defects within the society (Le., disorganization), social or personal pathologies, or underlying social ills such as broken homes. ~ather, deviant behavior and high rates of deviance are normal expresSlOns of the social organization of subcultures within "deviant areas" of the city. Specifically, deviant behavior is the product of the social life of subcultural groups, the conflicting definitions of deviance to which they are exposed, and various psychological processes that produce in them an "excess of definitions favorable to violation of the law over definitions unfavorable to violation of the law." This is the principle of differential association specified by Sutherland and his coauthor, Donald Cressey, in Reading 16. Sutherland hypothesized that people acquire criminal behavior patterns through the same process by which they acquire conventional behavior patterns: "Criminal behavior is human behavior, and has much in common with noncriminal behavior." It must be explained within the same general framework used to explain other human behavior, but using specific conditions and processes to explain crime. In Sutherland's learning approach to the study of criminal behavior, crime is seen as related to people's associations over time; criminal acts occur when situations are appropriate for their execution, as defined by the individuals who commit them. Through their associations with others, individuals learn values, nonns, motivations, rationalizations, techniques, and definitions that may be either favorable or unfavorable to violation of the law. They then define the situations they are presented with as either favorable or not favorable to law violation, depending on a personsituation complex involving inclinations and abilities acquired in interaction with others. Individualsleam criminal behavior patterns and are more likely to engage in criminal activity when an opportunity presents itself if they have been exposed to criminal definitions for a longer period of time, earlier in life, with more intensity, and more frequently than they have been exposed to anticriminal definitions. Donald Cressey develops these ideas in Reading 17, attempting to specify further the content of what is learned. In this brief excerpt from Other People's Money, he analyzes how embezzlers can commit crimes without suffering self-incrimination or feelings of guilt. He also suggests that "violation of trust" is learned not necessarily through direct association with others but rather through any number of indirect influences within the larger society. Cressey describes how rationalizalions, coupled with a nonshareable problem, precede action and allow individuals to behave in ways they might otherwise find unacceptable.
More important, he shows that rationalizations are learned and are part of the cultural fabric of groups and societies. In extending this basic premise, Gresham M. Sykes and David Matza's "Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency" (Readin" 18) deals with the content of what is both learned and rationalized.°In an extension of the fourth statement of Sutherland's theory, specifically in reference to rationalizations (see Reading 16), Sykes and Matza examine how a person who deVIates copes With the problem of his or her norm violation. These authors oppose arguments that delinquent behavior springs from an all-pervasive deviant value-norm system. Rather, they maintain that individuals seek to rationalize or neutralize the guilt associated with deviance through a series of defenses that place it in a favorable light. Sykes and Matza suggest that delinquents are essentially committed to the society's accepted values and norms, and that engaging in delinquent activity causes shame that must be neutralized if the delinquency is to persist. They learn various verbal justifications or techniques of neutralization for deviant behavior that serve to protect their self-image and allow them to engage in delinquent behavior without experiencing cognitive dissonance. Sykes and Matza believe that these techniques are a crucial part of Sutherland's "definitions favorable to the violation of law." They assert that delinquent's essentially "neutralize" the importance of dominant cultural values, which enables them to view their delinquent acts as acceptable, if not right. In the Analysis and Critique section in this chapter (Reading 19), Rass Matsueda provides not only an excellent synopsis of Sutherland's theory of differential association but also an analysis of many of the criticisms of the theory. He points out that the development of differential association theory beginning in 1939 and culminating in its final revision in 1947 has had a major impact in both sociological theorizing and empirical research on crime and the emergence of the field of criminology. Prior to this, explanations of crime focused on a multitude of factors such as race, social class, and broken homes as causative variables that resulted in crime. Critical of this sort of eclectic multifactor approach, Sutherland sought to integrate these variables in a general theory of crime that should provide a necessary and sufficient explanation of crime, identifying those conditions that are always present when crime is present and always absent when crime is absent." . Matsueda shows how Sutherland, initially influenced by the Chicago sociologists, by the time of the final revision of this theory in 1947 had broken with some of the central tenants of social disorganization theory. Sutherland was interested not only in explaining why crime rates difIJ •••
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fered between groups and societies, but also individuals' involvement and participation in crime. In doing so, he focused on what he termed differential social organization, differential group organization, and normative conflict in showing how the process of differential association influenced noncriminal or criminal behavior as well as specific criminal offenses. For many, the theory appeared to answer questions left unanswer~d by' so.cia! disorg~nization and anornie theory in their attempts to explam crunmal behavlOf. Yet, there were questions about whether differential association was an adequate explanation of crime and the processes by which an individual comes to engage in criminal behavior. Discussions about the explanatory power of differential association th~~ry have focused on two issues: its empirical and theoretical applicabil.lty. Matsueda summarizes many of the criticisms of the theory, especIally those related to the difficulty in operationally defining SOme of the major tenns so the theory can be empirically validated. In reviewmg research that has focused on the ability to operationalize and measure differential associations, as well as theoretical revisions of the theory, Matsueda concludes that there is significant support for it. In fact, responding to many of those who claim that the theory as a whole is unsupportable because it cannot be empirically tested, Matsueda argues convincingly that "Some versions of this criticism are on shaky ground because they fail to recognize that theories-being Sets of interrelated propositions explaining a given phenomenon-are rarely testable as a whole:" .r..:ratsueda also convincingly argues that Kornhauser's critique and rejection of differential association in favor of Hirschi's social control theory (discussed in Chapter V) and more recent integrated theory is based upon errors in interpreting the intended meaning of Sutherland's theory. Citing studies on control, integrated, and differential association theory;. Matsueda concludes that this research lends itself to more suppor~ ~or the assumptions inherent in association theory, "but reqUires additional research to specify the concrete content of its abstract principles." The Contemporary Application and final selection (Reading 20) in this chapter, "The Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among College Students," examines the significance of nullifying the controlling aspect ?f s~~lal norms so that engaging in nonconforming behavior becomes Justifiable and acceptable to the deviant. According to Sutherland, an excess of definitions favorable to violations of the law over t~ose unfavorable to violations of the law is a necessary condition for deViance. However, having internalized these excess definitions does not automatically lead to or enable one to engage in deviance. In addition to internalizing these excess definitions and defining the situation as ap-
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey
237
propriate, deviance will be more likely when the individual is able to play down his or her deviance by accepting the fact that the behaviorwhile wrong, illegal, or undesirable-is nevertheless justifiable in that situation. Having done 50, the individual is then more able to drift toward deviance. McCabe's research on students who cheat on tests or other major aSSignments supports this view. He demonstrates that prior to cheating, students neutralize their ensuing behavior using the five techniques outlined by Sykes and Matza.
16 The Tlteory
of Differential Association
EDWIN H. SUTHERLAND and DONALD R. CRESSEY THE PROBLEM FOR CRIMINOLOGICAL THEORY If criminology is to be scientific, the heterogeneous collection of multiple factors known to be associated with crime and criminality must be organized and integrated by means of explanatory theory which has the same characteristics as the scientific theory in other fields of study. That is, the conditions which are said to cause crime should be present when crime is present, and they should be absent when crime is absent. Such a theory or body of theory would stimulate, simplify, and give direction to criminological research, and it would provide a framework for understanding the significance of much of the lmowledge acquired about crime and criminality in the past. Furthermore, it would by useful in minintizing crime rates, provided it could be "applied" in much the same way that the engineer "applies" the scientific theories of the physicist. There are tvvo complementary procedures which may be used to put order into criminological knowledge. The first is logical abstraction. Blacks, males, urban-dwellers, and young adults all have comparatively high crime rates. What do they have in common that results in these high crime rates? Research studies have shown that criminal behavior is associated, in greater or lesser degree, with such social and personal pathologies as pover~ bad housing, slwn-residence, lack of recreational facilities, inadequate and demoralized families, mental retardation, emotional instability, and other traits and conditions. What do these conditions have in common which apparently produces excessive criminality? Research studies have also demonstrated that many persons Reprinted from Edwin H. Sutherland and Don,11d R. Cressey, Criminology, 10th edition (New York: Harper & Row Publishing, 1978), pp. 77-83. Copyright © 1978 by Donald R. Cressey Estate.
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with those pathological traits and conditions do not commit crimes and that persons in the upper socioeconomic class frequently violate the law, although they are not in poverty, do not lack recreational facilities, and are not mentally retarded or emotionally unstable. Obviously, it is not the conditions or traits themselves which cause crime, for the conditions are sometimes present when criminality does not occur, and they also are sometimes absent when crirninality does occur, Ageneralization about crime and criminal behavior can be reached by logically abstracting the conditions and processes which are common to the rich and the poor, the males and the females, the blacks and the whites, the urbanand the rural-dwellers, the young adults and the old adults, and the emotionally stable and the emotionally unstable who commit crimes. In developing such generalizations, criminal behavior must be precisely defined and carefully distinguished from noncriminal behavior. Criminal behavior is human behavior, and has much in common with noncriminal behavior. An explanation of criminal behavior should be consistent with a general theory of other human behavior, but the conditions and processes said to produce crime and criminality should be specific. Many things which are necessalY for behavior are not important to criminality. Respiration, for instance, is necessary for any behavior, but the respiratory process cannot be used in an explanation of criminal behavior, for it does not differentiate criminal behavior from noncriminal behavior. The second procedure for putting order into criminological knowledge is differentiation of levels of analysis. The explanation or generalization must be limited, largely in terms of chronology, and in this way held at a particular level. For example, when Renaissance physicists stated the law of falling bodies, they were not concerned with the reasons why a body began to fall except as this might affect the initial momentum. Galileo did not study the "traits" of falling objects themselves, as Aristotle might have done. Instead, he noted the relationship of the body to its environment while it was falling freely or rolling down an inclined plane, and it made no difference to his generalization whether a body began to faU because it was dropped from the hand of an experimenter or because it rolled off the ledge of a bridge due to vibration caused by a passing vehicle. Also, a round object would roll off the bridge more readily than a square object, but this fact Was not significant for the law of falling bodies. Such facts were considered as existing on a different level of explanation and were irrelevant to the problem of explaining the behavior of falling bodies. Much of the confusion regarding crime and criminal behavior stems from a failure to define and hold constant the level at which they are
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R Cressey
239
explained. By analogy, many criminologists and others concerned with understanding and defining crime would attribute some degree of causal power to the "roundness" of the object in the above illustration. However, consideration of time sequences among the conditions associated with crime and criminality may lead to simplicity of statement. In the heterogeneous collection of factors associated with crime and criminal behavior, one factor often occurs prior to another (in much the way that "roundness" occurs prior to "vibration/' and "vibration" occurs prior to "rolling off a bridge"), but a theoretical statement can be made without referring to those early factors. By holding the analysis at one levet the early factors are combined with or differentiated from later factors or conditions, thus reducing the number of variables which must be considered in a theory. A motion picture made several years ago showed two boys engaged in a minor theft; they ran when they were discovered; one boy had longer legs, escaped, and became a priest; the other had shorter legs, was caught, committed to a reformatory, and became a gangster. In this comparison, the boy who became a criminal was differentiated from the one who did not become a criminal by the length of his legs. But "length of legs" need not be considered in a criminological theory because it is obvious that this condition does not determine criminality and has no necessary relation to criminality. In the illustration, the differential in the length of the boys' legs apparently was significant to subsequent criminality or noncriminality only to the degree that it determined the subsequent experiences and associations of the two boys. It is in these experiences and associations, then, that the mechanisms and processes which are important to criminality or noncriminality are to be found.
TWO TYPES OF EXPLANATIONS OF CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR Scientific explanations of criminal behavior may be stated either in terms of the processes which are operating at the moment of the occurrence of crime or in terms of the processes operating in the earlier history of the criminal. In the first case, the explanation may be called "mechanistic," "situational," or dynamic"; in the second, "historical" or "developmental." Both types of explanation are desirable. The mechanistic type of explanation has been favored by physical and biological scientists, and it probably could be the more efficient type of explanation of criminal behavior. As Gibbons said:
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Differential Association and Neutralization
In many casEs, crimn:ality may be a response to nothing more tempor?} than the provocations and attractions bound up in the immediate crrcu~stances. It may ?e that, in some kinds of lawbreaking, understandmg of the behavlOf may require detailed attention to the concatenation o! events imme?iately preceding it. Little or nothing may be added to this understanding from a dose scrutiny of the early development of the person. 1
However, criminological explanations of the mechanistic type have thus far been notably unsuccessful, perhaps largely because they have bee,n formulated in connection willl an attempt to isolate personal and SOCial pathologies among criminals. Work from this point of view has, at least, resulted in the conclusion that the immediate determinants of criminal behavior lie in the person-situation complex. TIle objective situation is important to criminality largely to the extent that it. provides an opportunity for a criminal act. A thief may steal from a frUlt stand when the owner is not in sight but refrain when the OWner is in sight; a bank burglar may attack a bank which is poorly ~rotecte.d but refrain from attacking a well-protected bank. A COrporatIOn which manufacturers automobiles seldom violates the pure food d drug laws, but a meat-packing corporation might violate these laws ~lth great freq~enc~ B~t in another sense, a psychological or SOciologICal sense, the SItUatIOn IS not exclusive of the person, for the situation which is important is the situation as defined by the person who is involved. That is, same persons define a situation in which a fruit-stand Owner is out of sight as a "crime-COmmitting" situation, while others do not so define it. Furthermore, the events in the person-situation complex ~t the time a crime occurs cannot be separated from the prior life expenence~ of the criminal. This means that the situation is defined by the person m terms of the inclinations and abilities which he or she has acquired. For example, while a person could define a situation in such a mar:ner that criminal behavior would be the inevitable result, past expenences would, for the most part, determine the way in which he or she defined the situation. An explanation of criminal behavior made in terms of these past experiences is a historical or developmental explanation.
m:
, The follOWing paragraphs state such a development theory of crimmal behavlOr on the assumption that a criminal act occurs when a situation appropriate for it, as defined by the person, is present. The theory should be regarded as tentative, and it should be tested by the factual mfonnation presented in the later chapters and by all other factual information and theories which are applicable.
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey
241
DEVELOPMENTAL EXPLANATION OF CRIMINAL BEHAVlOR TIle following statements refer to the p~ocess by which a particular person comes to engage in criminal behavlOr: 1. CrimiJlal beltavior is learned. Negatively, this means t~at criminal behavior is not inherited, as such; also, th~ person w.ho 1~ not already trained in crime does not invent crimmal behavlOf, Just. a~ a person does not make mechanical inventions unless he has had tranung in mechanics. . ' 2. Criminal beJzavior is learned in interaction with otlter persons 111 a 'This commumca ' ti' on ,'s verbal in many respects process of c01J1l1lunicatwlI. but includes also "the commW1ication of gestures_". . .
3. The principal part of the learning of criminal beha~tor occurs wlthm intimate personal groups. Negatively, this means that the Impersonal agencies of communication, such as movies and newspapers, play a relatively unimportant part in the genesis of criminal b.eha:rior.
4. When criminal bel/avior is leamed, the learmng lItChl~eS (a) techniques of cOJHmitting tile crime, which ~re sOllleti'~lCS verv colllpl!cate~~ S~11le times very simple; (b) the specific directl0l1 of 11l0tzves, drrves, rnttol1all~attol1S, and attitudes. >t:; .• 5 The specific directioll of motives and drives is learned from deJ,mtlOlls of the iegal codes as favorable or unfavor~ble. In s~me societies an individual is surrounded by persons who invanably define the legal codes as rules to be observed, while in others he is surrounded by persons whose d~ finitions are favorable to the violation of the legal codes. In our Amencan society these definitions are almost alw~ys mixed, with the consequence that we have culture conflict in relatlOn to the leg~l.codes.
6. A person becomes delinquent because of an exce~s of defil1ltlOlls f~ vornble to violation of law over definitions 1lI1favorable to vlOlatton ~fl~w. Tlus is the principle of differential association. It refers to both cnmmal and anticrirninal associations and has to do with counteracting f~rces ..W?en persons become criminal, they do so because ~f c.on.tact WIth cnrmnal patterns and also because of isolation fro~ antlcrmunal patterns. Any person inevitably assimilates the surroundmg culture unless other patterns are in conflict; a southerner does not pronounce r ~~cause ~ther southerners do not pronounce r. Negatively, this propOSItion of differential association means that associations which are neutral so. as crime is concerned have little or no effect on the genesis of cnmmal behavior. Much of the experience of a person is neutral in this sense,
fa.:
242
16. Edwm n. ;JUCH'-~ .... __
Differential Association and Neutralization
for instance, learning to bLUsh one's teeth. lltis behavior has no negative or positive effect on criminal behavior except a5 it may be related to associations which are concerned with the legal codes.This neutral behavior is important especially as an occupier of the time of a child so that he Of she is not in contact with criminal behavior during the time the child is so engaged in the neutral behavior. 7. Differential associatiolls may vary ill frequency, duration, priority, and illtmsihj. TItis means that associations with criminal behavior and also associations with anticriminal behavior vary in those respects. Frequency and duration as modalities of associations are obvious and need no explanation. Priority is assumed to be important in the sense that lawful behavior developed in early childhood may persist throughout life, and also that delinquent behavior developed in early childhood may persist throughout life. TIus tendency, however, has not been adequately demonstrated, and priority seems to be important principally through its selective influence. Intensity; is not precisely defined, but it has to do with such things as the prestige of the source of a criminal or anticriminal pattern and with emotional reactions related to the associations. In a precise description of the criminal behavior of a person, these modalities would be rated in quantitative form and a mathematical ratio would be reached. A formula in this sense has not been developed, and the development of such a formula would be extremely difficult. 8. The process of learning c11mi11al behaviar by association witl! criminal
and [lnticri11lilla[ pattems involves all of the l1lec/umis11Is that are involved in any other Ieaming. Negatively, this means that the learning of criminal behavior is not restricted to the process of imitation. A person who is seduced, for instance, learns criminal behavior by association, but this process would not ordinarily be described as imitation. 9. W1lile crintil1ai belIavior is an expressiol1 of general needs and values, it is not explained by those gel1cml needs and values, since lloHcriminal behavior is an expression of the same needs and values. Thieves generally steal in order to secure money, but likewise honest laborers work in order to secure money. The attempts by many scholars to explain criminal behavior by general drives and values, such as the happiness principle, striving for social status, the money motive, or frustration, have been, and must continue to be, futile, since they explain lawful behavior as completely as they explain criminal behavior. They are similar to respiration, which is necessary for any behavior, but which does not differentiate criminal from noncriminal behavior. It is not necess~ at this level of explanation, to explain why persons have the associations they have; this certainly involves a complex ot many things. In an area where the delinquency ra te is high, a boy
who is sociable, gregarious, active, and athletic is very likely to come in contact with the other boys in the neighborhood, learn delinquent behavior patterns from them, and become a criminal; in the same neighborhood the psychopathic boy who is isolated, introverted, and inert may remain at home, not become acquainted with the other boys in the neighborhood, and not become delinquent. In another situation, the sociable, athletic, aggressive boy may become a member of a scout troop and not become involved in delinquent behavior. The person's associations are determined in a general context of social organization. A child is ordinarily reared in a family; the place of residence of the family is determined largely by family income; and the delinquency rate is in many respects related to the rental value of the houses. Many other aspects of social organization affect the associations of a person. The preceding explanation of criminal behavior purports to explain the criminal and noncriminal behavior of individual persons. As indicated earlier, it is pOSSible to state sociological theories of criminal behavior which explain the criminality of a community, nation, or other group. The problem, when thus stated, is to account for variations in crime rates, which involves a comparison of the crime rates of various groups or the crime rates of a particular group at different times. The explanation of a crime rate must be consistent with the explanation of the crimul.al behavior ot the person, since the crime rate is a summary statement of the number ot persons in the group who commit crimes and the frequency with which they commit crimes. One of the best explan~ tions of crime rates from this point of view is that a high crime rate IS due to social disorganization. The term social disorganizatioll is not entirely satisfactorily, and it seems preferable to substitute for it the term differmtial social orga11ization. TIl.e postulate on which this theory is based, regardless of the name, is that crime is rooted in the social organization and is an expression of that social organization. A group may be organized for criminal behavior or organized against criminal behavior. Most communities are organized for both criminal and anticriminal behavior, and, in that sense, the crime rate is an expression of the differential group organization. Differential group organization as an explanation of variations in crime rates is consistent with the differential association theory of the processes by which persons become criminals.
NOTE L
Don C Gibbons, "Observations on the Study of Crime Causation," Ameri-
can Journal of Socio[ogtj, 77:262-78, 1971.
244
Differential Association and Neutralization
17 Other People's Money DONALD R. CRESSEY THE VIOLATORS' VOCABULARIES OF ADJUSTMENT After a trusted person has defined a problem as non-shareable th
total ~ertinent situation consists of a problem which must be soive~ by an mdepe~de~tl secret,. and relatively safe means by virtue of general and technical information about trust violation. In this situation the potential.trus~ viol~tor id~~tifies the possibilities for resolving the problem by VlOlating his posItion of trust and defines the relationship betw~en the non-s~areable problem and the illegal solution in language w~c.h enables h~ ~o. look upon trust violation (aj as essentially noncnmmal, (b) as JustifIed, or (c) as a part of a general irresponsibility for which he is not completely accountable. The total identifying and definm? process was considered in the last chapter as being equal to percep~lOn of the .objective fact that the position of trust offers an oppor~ruty for solvmg the problem. The term "rationalization" has been applIed to the last phase, and it is vrith this process that we are Concerned in this chapter. We began using the "rationalization" terminology when it was discovered that the application of certain key verbalizations to his conduct enables the trusted person to "adjust" his conceptions of himself as a trusted person with rus conceptions of himself as a user of entrusted ~ds for solving a non-shareable problem, but the use of the term in ~ w~y is not in kee~ing -with popular usage or -with usage by some soclOloglStS: psychologIsts, and psychiatrists. An ordinary definition of the term mdlcates that rationalizatil;m takes place after the specific behavioral item in question has occurred. One buys an automobile and then :'rationalizes" that he needs it because his health is poor. The notion here IS that of an ex post facto justification for behavior which "has really been prompted by deeply hidden motives and unconscious tendencie~.lfl But the term is ~so used to refer to a process of finding some lOgIcal excuse fo rquestionable behavior tendencies, 2 for thoughts as well as acts,3 and for decisions to perform an act. 4 In addition, a rationalization has been considered as a verbalization whi:h purports to make the person's behavior more intelligible to others In terms of symbols currently employed by his group.' It follows Reprinted from Other People's MOlley: A Study ill till! 50cinl PsychOlogy of Embe:z:::.1t:lJ!eJJt by Donald R Cressey. © 1971 by Donald R. Cressey Estate.
.1-1.
~~
•• __
from this kind of definition that the person may prepare his rationalization before he acts, or he may act first and rationalize afterward. In the cases of trust violation encountered significant rationalizations were always present before the criminal act took place, or at least at the time it took place, and, in fact, after the act had taken place the rationalization often was abandoned. If this observation were generalized to other behavior we would not say that an individual "buys an automobile and then rationalizes," as in the example above, but that he buys the car because he is able to rationalize. The rationalization is his motivation, 6 and it not only makes his behavior intelligible to others, but it makes it intelligible to himself. Davis has used the term in this way in saying that "probably the simplest way of giving expression to unacceptable desires and of trying to avoid guilt feelings is to think up a good reason (i.e., one sanctioned in the social group by a moral evaluation higher than the one which forbids the tabooed topic)."7 He gives as an example the case of a student who thinks he "ought" to study for an examination but feels rusinclined to do so. Such a student may tell himself that he needs exercise because exercise is ~ssential to health, and health is more important thar:t passing an examination. He then goes out to play golf. His rationalization, then, is necessary to the golf playing, not an excuse or an ex post facto justification for it. In this sense, a rationalization is an aspect of a logic which is an adjustlve device, which serves the interests of contradictory ideas of "oughtness" or morality, and it is in this sense that we use the term. On the present level of explanation, systematic causation, it is sufficient to indicate the presence or absence of a rationalization which, together with the knowledge that the position of trust can be violated, enables the person to perceive that the desired results may be produced by violation of the position of trust. The trusted person either uses such a rationalization or he does not. The essential point is that the person must perceive his position of trust as offering an opportunity for such violation, and that such perception, which involves the use of a rationalization, is a part of a process which begins with the structuring of a problem as non-shareable and ends with the criminal violation of financial trust. However, as indicated previously, a discussion of rationalizations used in trust violation is not entirely separable from discussion of the sources of those rationalizations. In our hypoJhesis we have observed that one phase of the process which results in trust violation is the application, to the trusted person's O'Wl1 conduct, of language categories which enable him to adjust two rather conflicting sets of values and behavior patterns. But such
246
Differential Association and Neutralization
verbalizations necessarily are impressed upon the person by other persons who have had prior experience with situations involving positions of trust and trust violation. Before they are internalized by the individ_ ual they exist as group definitions of situations in which crime is "appropriate." Contacts VV1th such definitions obviously are necessary prior to their internalization as rationalizations. The following propositions, for example, are ideal-type definitions of situations in which trust violation is called for and which, hence, amount to ideologies which sanction the crime: "Some of our most respectable citizens got their start in life by using other people's money temporarilyl/;B "In the real estate business there is nothing wrong about using deposits before the deal is closed"; "All people steal when they get in a tight spot." The following propositions are the personalized versions of those definitions after they have been assimilated and internalized by an individual: "My intent is on1y to use this money temporarily so I am 'borrowing', not 'stealing'l/; "My irrunediate use of real estate deposits is 'ordinary business"'; "I have been trying to live an honest life but I have had nothing but troubles so 'to hen with it'." The individual in a ~pecific, present, situation uses such rationalizations in the adjustment of personal conflicting values, but the use of the verbalization in this way is necessarily preceded by observations of rather general criminal ideologies.
\rYe see then that, having general infoffilation about trust violation and about the conditions under which trust violation occurs, the trust violator, upon the appearance of the non-shareable problem, applies to his own situation a rationalization which the groups in which he has had membership have applied to the behavior of others, and which he himself has applied to the behavior of others. He perceives that the general rule applies to his specific case. Such an application to himself of the symbols held by the members of his groups has been described by Mead as taking the role of the "generalized other."9 Thus, the imagination of how he appears to others, and of how he would appear if his non-shareable problem were revealed to others is a controlling "force" in the behavior of the trusted person. In a "non-shareable-problem-position-of-trust" situation trusted persons "objectify" their own actions to the extent that they place themselves in the place of another person or group of persons with the status of "trustee" and hypothesize their reactions. The hypothesized reactions to "borrowing" in order to solve a non-shareable problem, for example, are much different from hypothesized reactions to "stealing," and the trusted person behaves accordirudv, Similarlv. the hvnnthp~i7Prl rp;\r_
tions to a conception of self as an "ill" person or as a "~.)[essed" ~erson have different implications for behavior than hypotheslZed reactions to . 0 flf a conception se as a ""I"lU cnrruna. It is because of hypotheSized reactions which do not consistently and severely condemn his criminal behavior that the trusted person takes the role of what we have called the "trust violator,//l1 He often does not think of himself as playing that r61e, but often thinks of himself as playing a role such as that of a special kind of "bo~Tower/' "businessman," or even "thief." In order to do so, he necessarily must have come into contact with a culture which defined those roles for him. If the roles were defined differently in his culture, or if he had not come into contact with the group definitions, he would behave differently. The rationalizations used by trust violators, then, reflect contacts with cultural ideologies which themselves are contradictory to the theme that honesty is expected in alisituations of trust. 12 When used by the individual, such ideologies adjust contradictory personal values in regard to criminality on the one hand and integrity, honesty and m~~al ity on the other. IS Law-enforcement officials and judges do not offiCIally recognize such cultural contradictions, and in individual cases they hotd that trust violation perpetrated according to a rationalization derived from such an ideology is not for that reason" excuseable." Trusted persons with non-shareable problems utilize rationalizations in order to select means, which otherwise would not be available to them, for solving those problerns,14 While the selection of means is recognized by the crimina11aw, most of the conditions under which such rationalizations are used do not constitute "necessity" according to the legal definitions, and hence they are not considered as sufficient for avoidance of legalliability,15 The circumstances illlder which the selections are made are sufficient, however, to explain theoretically why an individual criminally violates his trust rather than behaving in some other manner, even i1 those circumstances do not "excuse" him from legal Uability. Rather than "discovering" trust violation as a solution when nonshareable problems were present, the trust violators interviewed "re_ discovered" culturally provided verbalizations which sanction violation and applied these verbalizations to their own conduct. But whether the process is called discovery or rediscovery, the existence of ,a culture which supplies the necessary sanctions is presupposed, as IS contact with these aspects of culture by the trusted person.
248
Differential Association and Neutralization
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS 1. TIle rationalizations which are used by trust violators are necessary and essential to criminal violation of trust. TIley are not merely ex post facto justifications for conduct which already has been enacted, but are pertinent and real IIreasons" which the person has for acting. When the relationship between a personal non-shareable problem and the position of trust is perceived according to the bias induced by the presence of a rationalization which makes trust violation in some way justified, trust violation results. 2. Each trusted person does not invent a new rationalization for his violation of mIst, but instead he applies to his own situation a verbalization which has been made available to him by virtue of his having come into contact with a culture in which such verbalizations are present. Cultural ideologies which sanction trust violation are in basic contradiction to ideologies which hold non-violation as the norm, and in trust violation the trusted person applies a general rule to his specific case. 3. The rationalizations used in trust violation are linked with the manner in which the trust is violated and to some extent with the social and economic position of the offender. A large majority of the independent businessmen and trusted employees who take funds over a period of time apply to a situation in which a non-shareable problem is present the rationalization that they are merely borrowing the funds. The application of this rationalization has obvious implications for the behavior of the person using it, since he considers that he is playing the role of the borrower rather than of the trust violator. When other rationalizations are used, the person behaves accordingly. Frequently it is necessary for an individual to abandon the rationalizations which he has been using, and when this occurs he looks upon himself as a criminaL Trusted persons who abscond with the funds or property entrusted to them have previously perceived the relationship betw'een the pOSition of trust and nonshareable problem according to a rationalization which mal(es cultural ideals in regard to honesty and "responsibility" ineffective. 'This rationalization is of such a nature that the individual looks upon his role in violation as that of a criminal, but he thinks of himself as a special kind of "thief" ratller than as a "borrower," "embezzler," or "trust violator."
NOTES 1.
A. P. Noyes, Modem Clinical Psychiatry (Philadelphia: W. B. Saunders, 1940), p. 49, Cj. R. S. Woodworth. Psuc1wlnt,T11
(NpUT y ....... t-. l-l ............ U_h
C
2.
Co., 1940), p. 537: "The question is what reason to assign for an act"; i.U1d F. L. Ruch, Psychology alld Life (~hicago: Sc~tt, Fore~m~n & Co., 1941), p. 181: liThe ascribing of false motives to one s behaVlOr. . T. W. Richards, Modem Clinical Psyc/lO/oGY (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1946), p. 84.
3.
1(.
.
.F 5 C
f
Young, Pel's01wlihj alld Problems of Adjustment (New York: . . ro ts
&
Co., 1946), p. 122
. . R. T. LaPiere and P. R. Fnrnsworth, Socwl PsycllOlogy (New York. McGraw-Hill, 1949), p. 13. d . R. Lindesmith and A. L. Strauss, Social Psychology (New York: Dry en 5. A Prcss, 1949), p. 308. . ' " ·, C W' ht"Mills "Situated Actions and Vocabulanes of Motive, 6. C,. . ng , 0 913 AmericaJ1 Sociological Review, 5 (December, 1940), 9. 4- . 7. Kingsley Davis. Humall Sociehj (New Yorkj: ~aonlj\Umh' 1949\), ;:;~d in as ~ 267-268. In his discussion of the specific t lmgs.w llC are en sociation with criminal and anti-criminal beh~vlOr patterns, Sutherland apparently uses the term rationalization in sa~e ~ens~, to re~er to an evaluation of criminal behavior. That is, a ratlOnalization 1S c?nsldered as ·valent to an attitude about the "oughtness" of the behavlOr as con~;~ed by the person. E. H. Sutherland, Principles of Crimill%gy (New
4.
tl:rs
York: Lippincott, 1947), p. 6.
8.
.
CfAlexander Dumas, TIlE Money Question, ~ English translation of . _ ~hich appears in Poet Lore, 26 (M~rch-Ap~l, 1915), pp. 1:9-227, espeC1al ly Act I~: "What is business? Thal s easy. It 5 other people 5 money, of
f th S' nifi t Symbol" course. George H. Mead, /lA Behavioristic Account 0 e 19 can. 'd fOl!rlw/ of Philosophy, 19 (March, 1922), 157-163. See also his Mwd, Self all SociehJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1934) pp. 135-226. 10. Although it was not in any way checked by ~er. re5~arch, Redden o~e;,s the following hypothesis, based on Mead's d15tinction betw"e~ th~ I d the "me" about the role-taking behavior of embezzlers. In his re:-axsal of co~sequence5 in the process of taking the role. of another he [the embezzler] fails to integrate himself with the orgaruz~d pattern of apIJroved social behavior. He fails or r~fuses to try to dev15.e a plan by reflective thinking which will increase h15 va~ue to the orgaruza~on.and call forth recognition in terms of increased mcome. Thwart:d 1~ hiS. attempt or impatient of the duration of tim~ ~ec:ssary to fuUill h15 wlsh on the socially desirable level, his mental actiVIty 15 centered o~ a plan of borrowing, converting his employer's goo~ o~ money to his own use, to fu1fill the wish for a margin above tl1.e equ1~bnum of.mcome and cost of living to satisfy some latent desire in a mimrnum of time. He completes the act hypothetically, taldng the rOle of another but contr~ to .the common organized pattern of social behavior in business relahonslup~ and in the social group. His hypothetical solution maybe a new ~ecl:ruque or method which if discovered by the employer would mean du::~s~l . from his employ and community disapproval. His mental actiV1ty 15 ID 9.
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Differential Association and NelltraiiZiltlon
aspects of the self of the embezzler ilre in conflict, the sodal or impersonal self integrates the hypothetical act with the organized social behavior of the group by naming the act resulting from the proposed plan borrow~ fig, Wi~l int::nt to ~eplace Or repay; the other aspect of self, the personal or a~sOCla1, VIews his plan as opposed 10 organized social behavior, independent of the group and unknown to the group." Elizabeth Redden, EmbezzJeJJJeJtt, A Study of Om: Killd of Crimilia I Bclinvior, With Prediction Tables Based 011 Fidelity IlIsurance Records, Ph.D. Djssertation, University of Chicago, 1939, pp. 27-29. 11. In this connection, we shall see Jater tilat when the long-term violator lv-ho has convinced himself that he is a "borrower" decides that he is "in loo deep" the atlil:udes of his group toward "embezzlement" and "crime" can no longer be avoided, and ills behavior takes on the charac~ teristics of the role which he then conceives of himself as playing. Similarly, We shall see that while there exists in most groups in our culture a rather general condemnation of "'trust violation" or "stealing" this condemnation 1S not as general when the "mitigating circumstances" are known: That is, some categories of criminal behavior arE,'! not as severely or consl5tently condemned as others. The trust violator behaves according to the cultural definitions of Ulose categories. 12. "Y\fhen rationalizations are extensively developed and systematized as grouf doctrines and belicis, they are known as ideologies, As such, they acqurre unusual prestige and authOrity. The person who uses them has !:h~ s~nse of confOrming to group expectations, of doing the 'right Hung .. ,. Unscrupulous and sometimes criminal behavior in business a~d industry is justified in terms of an argmnent Which begins and ends WIth the assertion that 'business is business.' ... The principal advantage ?f group rati?nal~ations or ideOlOgies, from the individual's standpoint, IS. that ~ley give him a sense of support and sanction. They help him to Vlew himself and his activities in a favorable light and to maintain his s~lf-esteem and self-respect." A R Lindesmith and A. L Strauss, op. CIf.,pp. 309-310. Reproduced by permission of the publisher. 13. In a letter of the auilior even an official of a bonding l:'ompany differentiated between "embezzlers" and "crooks" by saying: '~ctually the average embezzler is no more crook than you or 1. As a result of circumstances, he finds himself in some position where, with no criminal intent, he 'borrows' from his employer. One circumstance leads to another.and it ~ only a matter of time before he is discovered and disd1arged With or WlthOUt prosecution." 14. The fact that trust violators use rationaJizatioTIs does not mean, of course, that they are more "rational" than other persons, or that they carefully weigh and consider the advantages and disadvantages of trust violation in an objective, carefut precise manner. The use of the rationalization makes this unnecessary, and once the trusted person has rationalized the violation of his trust it is impOSSible for him to be concerned with the question of whether the rationalization is a "good" one.
j
Probably it was the observation of this sort of thing which led Lottier to the formulation of that part of his theory which holds that in cases of embezzlement U,ere is "no subjectively available alternative" to embezzlement. S. Lottier, "Tension Theory of Criminal Behavior:' Amerirmt So~ ciological Review, 7 (December, 1942), 840-848. Our analysis also can be con.sidered as a detailed consideration of Riemer's general statement that the opportunities presented through occupancy of a position of trust form a "temptation" is the embezzler develops an "anti~sodal attitude" wh.ich makes possible the abandonment of the folk-ways of legitima.te business behavior. Svend Riemer, "Embezzlement Pailiologica18asis," JOlll7lni of Criminai Law a/ld Criminology, 32 (November-December, 1941), 411-423. As shall be shown later, however, most of the trust violators encountered did not 50 much abandon the folk-ways of legitimate business behavior as they did re-structure the situation in such a way that, from their point of view, Uley were /lot abandoning such foll(~ways. Similarly, except for absconders, the attitudes of the men interviewed were not so much ".anti~sodal" as they were "pro-sodal" in that the endeavor was to keep from considering themselves as criminals. 15. Jerome Hall, Prillciple.s of CrimiJlfll Law (IndianapoHs: Bobb5~Merril!,
j j j j j j
1947), pp. 415-426.
j 18 Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency
j
GRESHAM M. SYKES and DAVlD MATZA In attempting to uncover the roots of juvenile delinquency, the social scientist has long since ceased to search for devils in the mind or stigma of the body. It is now largely agreed that delinquent behavior, like most social behavior, is learned and that it is learned in the process of social interaction. The classic statement of this position is found in Sutherland's theory of differential association, which asserts that criminal or delinquent behavior involves the learning of (a) techniques of committing crimes and (b) motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes favorable to the violation of lawl Unfortunately, the specific content of what is learnedas opposed to the process by which it is learned-has received relatively little attention in either theory or research. Perhaps the single strongest school of thought on the nature of this content has centered on the ldea of a delinquent sub-culture. The basic characteristic of.tlle delinquent sub-culture, it is argued, is a system of values that represents an mversion of the values held by respectable, law-abiding society. The world of
j j j j j j
Reprinted from Gresharn M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neutralization: A Thporv nf Of'linoIJPncv." AUlf.!ricflJr 5acialo"dClI! Review, val. '12 (19S7), pp. 664-670.
j j j j
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The fact that a child is punished by parents, school officials, and agencies of the legal system for !Us delinquency may, as a number of observers have cynically noted, suggest to the child that he should be more careful not to get caught. There is an equal or greater probability, however, that the child will internalize the demands for conformity. 1his is not to say that demands for conformity cannot be counteracted. In fact, a5 we shall see shortly, an understanding of how internal and external demands for conformity are neutralized may be crucial for understanding delinquent behavior. But it is to say that a complete denial of the validity of demands for conformity and the substitution of a new normative system is improbable, in light of the child's or adolescent's dependency on adults and encirclement by adults inherent in his status in the social structure. No matter how deeply enmeshed in patterns of delinquency he may be and no-matter how much this involvement may outweigh his associations with the law-abiding, he cannot escape the condemnation of his deviance. Somehow the demands for conformity must be met and answered; they cannot be ignored as part of an alien system of values and norms. In short, the theoretical viewpoint that sees juvenile delinquency as a form of behavior based on the values and norms of a deviant subcullure in precisely the same way as law-abiding behavior is based on the values and norms of the larger society is open to serious doubt. The fact that the world of the delinquent is embedded in the larger world of those who conform cannot be overlooked nor can the delinquent be equated with an adult thoroughly socialized into an alternative way of life. Instead, the juvenile delinquent would appear to be at least partially committed to the dominant social order in that he frequently exhibits guilt or shame when he violates its prescriptions, accords approval to certain conforming figures, and distinguishes between appropriate and inappropriate targets for his deviance. It is to an explanation for the apparently paradoxical fact of his delinquency that we now turn. AB Morris Co hen once said, one of the most fascinating problems about human behavior is why men violate the laws in which they believe. This is the problem that confronts us when we attempt to explain why delinquency occurs despite a greater or lesser commitment to the usages of conformity. A basic clue is offered by the fact that social rules or norms calling for valued behavior seldom if ever take the form of categorical imperatives. Rather, values or norms appear as qllalified guides for action, limited in their applicability in terms of time, place, persons, and social circumstances. TIle moral injunction against killing, for example, does not apply to the enemy during combat in time of war, although a captured enemy comes once again under the prohibition. Similarly, the takIDg and distributing of scarce p"oorls in ;1 tin'lP nf ;lrl1to
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social need is felt by many to be right, although under other circumstances private property is held inviolable. The normativ~ ~J:'ste~ of a society, then, is marked by what Williarns has termedflmbdlly; lt do;s not cO!l5ist of a body of rules held to be bmdmg under all condltions. 11us flexibility is, in fact, an integral part of the crirninallaw in that measures for "defenses to crimes" are provided in pleas such as non-age, necessity, insanity, drunkenness, compulsion, self-defense, and so on. The individual can avoid moral culpability for his criminal action-and thus avoid the negative sanctions of society-if he can prove that criminal intent was k'lcking. It is our argument tllat much delinquency is based on what is essentially (Ill unrecognized extension of defel1ses to crimes, ill the form of justifications for deviallce tlwt are seen as valid by tlle deliJ1quent but not by the legal system or society at large. These justifications are commonly described as rationalizations. They are viewed as following deviant behavior and as protecting the individual from self-blame and the blame of others after the act. But there is also reason to believe that they precede deviant behavior and make deviant behavior possible. It is this possibility tha t Sutherland mentioned only in passing and that other writers have failed to exploit from the viewpoint of sociological theory. Disapproval flowing from internalized norrn.s and conforming others in the social environment is neutralized, turned back, or deflected in advance. Social controls that serve to check or inhibit deviant motivational patterns are rendered inoperative, and the individual is freed to engage in delinquency without serious damage to his self image. In this sensel the delinquent both has his cake and eats it too, for he remains committed to the dominant normative system and yet so qualifies its imperatives that violations are "acceptable" if not "right." Thus the delinquent represents not a radical opposition to law-abiding society but something more like an apologetic failure, often more sinned against than sinning in his own eyes. We call these justifications of deviant behavior techniques of neutralization; and we believe these techniques make up a crucial component of Sutherland's "definitio!l5 favorable to the violation of law." It is by learning these techniques that the juvenile becomes delinquent, rather than by learning moral imperatives, values or attitudes standing in direct contradiction to those of the dominant society. In analyzing these techniques, we have found it convenient to divide them into five major types. THE DENIAL OF RESPONSIBILITY
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in effectiveness as a restraining influence. As Justice Holmes has said, even a dog distinguishes between being stumbled over and being kicked, and modern society is no less careful to draw a line between injuries that are unintentional, i.e., where responsibility is lacking, and those that are intentionaL As a technique of neutralization, however, the denial of responsibility extends much further than the claim that deviant acts are an "accident" or some similar negation of personal accountability. It may also be asserted that delinquent acts are due to forces outside of the individual and beyond his control such as unloving parents, bad companions, or a slum neighborhood. In effect, the delinquent approaches a "billiard ball" conception of himself in which he sees himself as helplessly propelled into new situations. From a psychodynamic viewpoint, this orientation toward one's own actions may represent a profound alienation from self, but it is important to stress the fact that interpretations of responsibility are cultural constructs and not merely idiosyncratic beliefs. The similarity between this mode of justifying illegal behavior assumed by the delinquent and the implications of a "sociological" frame of reference or a "humane" jurisprudence is readily apparent.8 It is not the validity of this orientation that concerns us here, but its function of deflecting blame attached to violations of social norms and its relative independence of a particular personality structure. 9 By learning to view himself as more acted upon than acting, the delinquent prepares the way for deviance from the dominant normative system without the necessity of a frontal assault on the norms themselves. THE DENIAL OF INJURY
A second major technique of neutralization centers on the injury or harm involved in the delinquent act. The criminal law has long made a distinction between crimes which are mala in se and mala prohibita-that is between acts that are wrong in themselves and acts that are illegal but not immoral-and the delinquent can make the same kind of distinction in evaluating the wrongfulness of his behavior. For the delinquent, however, wrongfulness may turn on the question of whether or not anyone has clearly been hurt by his deviance, and this matter is open to a variety of interpretations. Vandalism, for example, may be defined by the delinquent simply as "mischief" -after all, it may be claimed, the persons whose property has been destroyed can well afford it. Similarly, auto theft may be viewed as "borrowing," and gang fighting may be seen as a private quarrel, an agreed upon dual betvveen two willing parties, and thus of no concern to the community at large. We are not suggesting that this technique of neutralization, labelled the denial of injury, ;""nl"",
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frequently, and in a hazy fashion, feels that his behavior does not really cause any great harm despite the fact that it runs counter to law. Just as U,e link between the individual and his acts may be broken by the denial of responsibility, so may the link betvveen acts and their consequences be broken by the denial of injury. Since society sometimes agrees with the delinquent, e.g., in matters such as truancy, "pranks," and so on, it merely reaffirms the idea that the delinquent's neutralization of social controls by means of qualifying the norms is an extension of common practice rather than a gesture of complete opposition. THE DENIAL OF THE VICTIM
Even if the delinquent accepts the responsibility for his deviant actions and is willing to admit that his deviant actions involve an injury or hurt, the moral indignation of self and others may be neutralized by an insistence that the injury is not wrong in light of the circumstances. The injury, it may be claimed, is not really an injury; rather, it is a form of rightful retaliation or punishment. By a subtle alchemy the delinquent moves himself into the position of an avenger and the victim is transformed into a wrong-doer. Assaults on homosexuals or suspected homosexuals, attacks on members of minority groups who are said to have gotten "out of place," vandalism as revenge on an unfair teacher or school official, thefts from a "crooked" store owner-all may be hurts inflicted on a transgressor, in the eyes of the delinquent. As Orwell has pointed out, the type of criminal admired by the general public has probably changed over the course of years and Raffles no longer serves as a hero;lO but Robin Hood, and his latter day derivatives such as the tough detective seeking justice outside the law, still capture the popular imagination, and the delinquent may view his acts as part of a similar role. To deny the existence of the victim, then, by transforming him into a person deserving of injury is an extreme form of a phenomenon we have mentioned before, namely, the delinquent's recognition of appropriate and inappropriate targets for his delinquent acts. In addition, however, the existence of the victim may be denied for the delinquent, in a somewhat different sense, by the circumstances of the delinquent act itself. Insofar as the victim is physically absent, unknown, or a vague abstraction (as is often the cas'e in delinquent acts committed against property), the awareness of the victim's existence is weal<ened. Internalized norms and anticipations of the reactions of others must somehow be activated, if they are to serve as guides for behavior; and it is pOSSible, that adiminished awareness of the victim plays an important
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THE CONDEMNATION OF THE CONDEMNERS
A fourth technique of neutralization would appear to involve a condemnation of the condemners or, as McCorkle and Korn have phrased it, a rejection of the rejectors.I1 The delinquent shifts the focus of attention from his own deviant acts to the motives and behavior of those who disapprove of his violations. His condemners, he may claim, are hypocrites, deviants in disguise, or impelled by personal spite. This orientation toward the conforming world may be of particular importance when it hardens into a bitter cynicism directed against those assigned the task of enforcing or expressing the norms of the dominant society. Police, it may be said, are corrupt, stupid, and brutal. Teachers always s~ow £avori~sm and parents always "take it out" on their children. Bya slIght extensIOn, the rewards of conformity-such as material successbecome a matter of pull or luck, thus decreasing still further the stature of those who stand on the side of the Iawabicling. The validity of this jaundiced viewpoint is not so important as its function in turning back or deflecting the negative sanctions attached to violations of the norms. The delinquent, in effect, has changed the subject of the conversation in the dialogue between his own deviant impulses and the reactions of others; and by attacking others, the wrongfulness of this own behavior is more easily repressed or lost to view. THE ApPEAL TO HIGHER LOYALTIES
Fifth, and last, internal and external social controls may be neutralized by sacrificing the demands of the larger society for the demands of the smaller social groups to which the delinquent belongs such as the sibling parr, the gang, or the friendship clique. It is important to note that the delinquent does not necessarily repudiate the imperatives of the dominant normative system, despite his failure to follow them. Rather, the delinquent may see himself as caught up in a dilemma that must be resolved, unfortunately, at the cost of violating the law. One aspect of this situation has been studied by Stouffer and Toby in their research on the conflict between particularistic and universalistic demands, between the claims of friendship and general social obligations, and their results s.uggest that "it is possible to classify people according to a predispositIOn to select one or the other horn of a dilemma in a role conflict." 12 For our purposes, however, the most important point is that deviation from certain norms may occur not because the norms are rejected but becaUSe other norms, held to be more pressing or involving a higher loyalty, are accorded precedence. Indeed, it is the fact that both sets of norms are believed in that gives meaning to our concepts of dilemma and role conflict.
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The conflict between the claims of friendship and the claims of law, or a similar dilemma, has of course long been recognized by the social scientist (and the novelist) as a common human problem. If the juvenile delinquent frequently resolves his dilemma by insisting that he must "always help a buddy" or "never squeal on a friend," even when it throws him into serious difficulties with the dominant social order, his choice remains familiar to the supposedly law-abiding. The delinquent is unusual, perhaps, in the extent to which he is able to see the fact that he acts in behalf of the smaller social groups to which he belongs as a justification for violations of society's nOlUlS, but it is a matter of degree rather than of kind. "I didn't mean it." "1 didn't really hurt anybody." "They had it coming to them." "Everybody's picking on me." "1 didn't do it for myself." These slogans or their variants, we hypothesize, prepare the juvenile for delinquent acts. These "definitions of the situation" represent tangential or glancing blows at the dominant normative system rather than the creation of an opposing ideology; and they are extensions of patterns of thought prevalent in society rather than something created de
I1ovo. Techniques of neutralization may not be powerful enough to fully shield the individual from the force of his own internalized values and the reactions of conforming others, for as we have pointed out, juvenile delinquents often appear to suffer from feelings of guilt and shame when called into account for their deviant behavior. And some delinquents may be so isolated from the world of conformity that tedmiques of neutralization need not be called into play. Nonetheless, we would argue that techniques of neutralization are critical in lessening the effectiveness of social controls and that they lie behind a large share of delinquent behavior. Empirical research in this area is scattered and fragmentary at the present time, but the work of Redl,B Cressey,14 and others has supplied a body of significant data that has done much to clarify the theoretical issues and enlarge the fund of supporting evidence. Two lines of investigation seem to be critical at this stage. First, there is need for more knowledge concerning the differential distribution of techniques of neutralization, as operative patterns of thought, by age, sex, social class, ethnic group, etc. On a priori grounds it might be assumed that these justifications for deviance will be more readily seized by segments of society for whom a discrepancy between common social ideals and social practice is most apparent. It is also possible, however, that the habit of "bending" the dominant normative system-if not "breaking" it--cuts across our cruder social categories and is to be traced primarily to patterns of social interaction within the familial circle. Sec1.1
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techniques of neutralization, as a system of beliefs and attitudes, and its relationship to various types of delinquent behavior. Certain techniques of neutralization would appear to be better adapted to particular deviant acts then to others, as we have suggested, for example, in the case of offenses against property and the denial of the victim. But the issue remains far from clear and stands in need of more information. In any case, techniques of neutralization appear to offer a promising line of research in enlarging and systematizing the theoretical grasp of juvenile delinquency. As more information is uncovered concerning techniques of neutralization, their origins, and their consequences, both juvenile delinquency in particular, and deviation from normative systems in general may be illuminated.
19. Ross 1. Matsueda
10. 11.
261
George Orwell, Dickens, Dali, and OtllCI'S, New York: Reynal, 1946. Lloyd W. McCorkle and Richard Korn, "Resocialization Witilin Walls,"
T1Je All1wls of the American Academy Of Political alld Social Science, 293, (May, 1954), pp. 88-98. 12.
13.
14.
See Samuel A. Stouffer and Jackson Toby, "Role Conflict and Personality," in Toward a GCllcral Theory of Actioll, edited by Takott Parsons and Edward A. Shils, Cunbridge: Harvard University Press, 1951, p. 494. See Fritz RedI and David Wineman, CltildrCll WIlo Hate, Glencoe: The Free Press, 1956. See D. R. Cressey, Other People's Money, Glencoe: The Free Press, 1953.
Analysis and Critique NOTES 1. 2. 3.
4.
5.
6.
7. 8.
9.
E. H. Sutherland, Principles of Crimill%gt), revised by D. R. Cressey, Chicago: Lippincott, 1955, pp. 77-80. Albert K Cohen, Delinquellt Boys, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1955. This form of reaction among the adherents of a deviant subculture who fully believe in the "rightfulness" of their behavior and who are captured and punished by the agencies of the dominant social order can be illustrated, perhaps, by groups such as Jehovah's Witnesses, early Christian sects, nationalist movements in colonial areas, and conscientious objectors during World Wars I and IT. As Weber has pointed out, a thief may recognize the legitimacy of legal rules without accepting their moral validity. Cf. Max Weber, The Theory of Social alld Eco1lomic Organizatioll (translated by A. M. Henderson and Talcott Parsons), New York: Oxford University Press, 1947, p. 125. We are arguing here, however, that the juvenile delinquent frequently recognizes both the legitimacy of the dominant social order and its moral "rightness." Thrasher's account of the "Itschkies" ~l juvenile gang composed of Jewish boys-and the immunity from "rolling" enjoyed by Jewish drunkards is a good illustration. Cf. F. Thrasher, The Gallg, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1947, p. 315. Cf. Solomon Kobrin, "The Conflict of Values in Delinquency Areas," American Sociological Review, 16 (October, 1951), pp. 653-661. CL Robin Williams, Jr., American Society, New York: Knopf, 1951, p. 28. A munber of observers have wryly noted that many delinquents seem to show a surprising awareness of sociological and psychological explanations for their behavior and are quick to point out tile causal role of their poor environment. It is pOSSible, of course, that certain personality structures can accept some techniques of neutralization more readily tilan others, but this
19 The Current State of Differential Association Theory ROSS L. MATSUEDA Edwin Sutherland's (1939, 1947) differential association theory marked a watershed in criminology. The theory was instrumental in bringing the perspective of sociology to the forefront of criminology. Before then criminological research and thought tended to be eclectic and unorganized, lacking a general theoretical perspective to integrate findings and guide research. TIrrough the years, differential association theory has stimulated theoretical reHnements and revisions, empirical research, and applications to programs and policy. The first two decades saw several attempts to revise the theory to explain the origin and perSistence of delinquent subcultures (Cohen, 1955; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960), to incOlporate principles of symbolic interaction and role theory (Cressey, 1954; Glaser, 1956, 1960; Weinberg, 1966), and to incorporate socialleaming principles Geffrey, 1965; Burgess and Akers, 1966: Akers, 1973). During the last decade, the trend of theoretical innovations has been supplanted by two distinct trends. The first focuses on testing the theory: devising methods for operationalizing the theory's concepts, deriving hypotheses from its propositions, and subjecting those hypotheses to empirical verification. The second entails rejecting the theory's principles in favor of social control or integrated theories. This trend was originally stimulated by Kornhauser's (1963) theoretical critique of differential association theory, and Hirshi's (1969) empirical study supporting his social control theory.
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This article examines the current state of differential association theory. It begins by reviewing the intellectual development of Sutherland's theory. It then assesses the evolution of the empirical tests of the theory's propositions, as well as evaluating theoretical attempts to revise those propositions. Next, it critically evaluates Kornhauser's (1978) critique and subsequent rejection of the theory's basic assumptions. Finally, the article outlines directions for future research, arguing that the most fruitful line of research is that which identifies the concrete historical content of the theory's abstTact mechanisms, principles, and concepts. Such research would have several payoffs: enriching and perhaps modifying the theory's abstract principles, allowing the theory to make concrete predictions, and suggesting ways of translating the theory into public policy.
DEVELOPMENT OF DIFFERENTIAL ASSOCIATION THEORY Before Sutherland developed his criminological theory, the prevailing explanation of crime was the multiple-factor approach. According to this approach, criminal behavior is determined by a variety of concrete conditions, such as mental disorders, broken homes, minority status, age, social class, alcoholic parents, and inadequate socialization. Such an explanation has the virtue of being multidisciplinary and open-minded, but the weakness of being eclectic and unparsimonious. In 1933, Michael and Adler (1971) published a stinging criticism of the discipline of criminology, arguing that criminology had produced no valid scientific generalizations, had used unscientific methods, and, therefore, needed to be replaced by a panel of scientists from other disciplines. Sutherland's reaction to this report, combined with his growing dissatisfaction with the nonscientific multiple-factor explanation, provoked him to develop both a rigorous definition of an adequate causal explanation (Sutherland, 1973b, Hirschi and Gottfredson, 1979), as well as an attempt to develop a scientific generalization that met those requisites (Cressey, 1979). Sutherland (1973b) argued that the multiple-factor approach yielded a hodgepodge of unorganized factors associated with crime, and thus failed to provide a scientific understanding of criminal behavior. A scientific generalization, he maintained, should provide a necessary and sufficient explanation of crime, identifying those conditions that are always present when crime is present and always absent when crime is absent. Furthermore, he suggested treating concrete correlates, such as broken homes, race, sex, and social class, not as causes in and of them-
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For example, race and sex cannot by themselves explain crime, since some black males refrain from crimes and some white females commit crimes. What is needed, then, for both understanding and controlling crime is set of interrelated propositions that together explain all of the observed correlates of crime. To arrive at such a generalization, Sutherland proposed three methods. TI,e first, which he called "lOgical abstraction," calls for logically abstracting from those concrete conditions knOVVTl to correlate with crime to general abstract propositions and universal mechanisms. He asked what blacks, males, persons from broken homes, and persons from lower classes had in common that caused them to have high rates of crime? The answer to this question, presumably, would specify the intervening mechanisms that accounted for the observed correlations between these concrete conditions and criminal behavior. The second method is differentiation of levels of explanation. Sutherland (1947, p. 4) argued that in causal analysis we need to focus on a particular level of explanation and hold other levels constant, rather than trying to explain everything at once. For example, we can develop an explanation of individual criminality without simultaneously explaining aggregate crime rates, Of the origins of crime in SOCiety. Ideally, of course, a theory would imply explanations at other levels, but those explanations can be explicated later. The third method of constructing a theoretical generalization is analytic induction (Sutherland, 1973b). Pioneered by Thomas and Znaniecki (1927) in their study of the Polish peasant, and later applied to opiate addiction by Lindesmith (1938), analytic induction consists, in four steps, of a case-by-case search for a necessary and sufficient explanation: (1) roughly define the universe of a phenomenon; (2) formulate a tentative hypothesis and try it out on a few cases; (3) if the hypothesis does not fit, either modify the hypothesis or redefine the universe; (4) continue searching for negative cases until confidence in the hypothesis is found. Sutherland used these methodological strategies to develop his theory of differential association. The general theoretical direction that Sutherland took was influenced by the intellectual context of his time: the Chicago School of sodologists-Park, Burgess, Thomas, Wrrth, Shaw, McKay, Dewey, and Mead. The specific substantive direction that Sutherland took was influenced by three developments in criminology. First was the work of Shaw and McKay (1931, 1969), which mapped the geographic distribution of delinquency in Chicago, finding that (1) delinquency rates increased as one moved away from the center of the city, (2) ecological rates of delinquency remained stable over generations despite a complete turnover of ethnic composition, and (3) social disorga~~
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was the work of Sellin (1938), Wirth (1964), and Sutherland (1973a) on the influence of culture conflict on crime, which asserted that crime in modem societies is rooted in the conflict of competing cultures. Third was Sutherland's (1937) work on professional theft, in which he concluded that not everyone can become a professional thief, but rather one must be accepted into a group of professional thieves and then indoctrinated into the profession. The underlying assumptions of differential association theory were implicit in early editions of Sutherland's (1933) textbook, made explicit in the third edition (1939, and revised into final form in the fourth eclition (1947). Specified in nine propositions, differential association theory consists of three interrelated concepts-normative (culture) conflict, differential association, and differential social organization-operating at two levels of explanation: the society (group) and the individual (Cressey, 1960). The theory assumes that, in two ways, crime is ultimately rooted in normative conflict. 1 Stated from a static cross-section_ al standpoint, normative conflict exists when society is segmented into groups that conflict over norms, values, and interests: Some groups define a given law as a rule to be followed under all circumstances; others define that law as a rule to be violated under certain circumstances; still others may define the law as a rule to be violated under virtually all circumstances. This condition of normative conflict, characteristic of heterogeneous modem industrial societies, results in high rates of crime. In contrast, primitive undifferentiated societies are relatively harmonious, integrated, and consensual; they consequently have low rates of crime. Stated from a historical standpoint, crime originates in the passage of criminal laws, which, in turn, is a political expression of normative conflict. More precisely, the behavior of a group in SOCiety threatens the values, interests, or beliefs of a politically more powerful group (normative conflict). The powerful group then mobilizes the state to proscribe the behavior in question. At this point there exists normative conflict about the legal code. Members of the powerful group define the law as a rule to be followed. Some members of the less-powerful group will desist from the behavior, since it is now against the law, and change their attitudes toward the behavior. Others, however, persist in the behavior, maintaining their definition favorable to what is now a crime (Sutherland, 1973b, p. 24). At the level of the individual, the process of differential association explains how normative conflict produces individual acts of crime. 2 Criminal behavior is learned in communication with other persons, predominantly in intimate groups. The content of this learning includes two sets of elements. One set is the techniques and skills for committing •
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bers of society, to complicated specialized skills known by only a select circle of members. The second, more important, set of elements learned are the specific direction of motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes--either toward defining the law as a set of rules to be observed Or broken. Given the existence of normative conflict, individuals are surrounded both by persons who define the law favorably and by persons who define the law unfavorably. Criminal behavior results when the individualleams an excess of definitions favorable to law violation over definitions unfavorable to law violation (Sutherland, 1947). Not all definitions receive equal weight, however. Rather, each is weighted by four modalities: frequency, duration, priority, and intensity. Therefore, definitions presented more frequently, for a longer time of exposure, earlier in life, and from either a more prestigious source or a more intense relationship, receive more weight in the differential association process. 3 Although the theory is stated as a general theory of all crimes, Sutherland suggested that the differential association process could be different for different criminal offenses (Sutherland, 1973d. p. 36). This is consistent with his belief that a general theory of crime would be less useful, in both a theoretical and policy sense, than theories of specific offenses or behavior systems (Sutherland, 1947, p. 218). For some behavior systems, the techniques, definitions, and associations bear little resemblance to other systems; in other instances great similarities exist. Thus differential association theory may consist of several parallel but analytically distinct subtheories of specific offenses. While specialized crimes, such as professional theft, are probably explained by specialized techniques and definitions pertaining to those sophisticated crimes only, other more generalized crimes, such as vandalism, petty theft, and disorderly conduct, are likely explained by similar and overlapping techniques and definitions. Clearly, the extent to which the differential association process is offense specific or offense general is an empirical question, dependent on the class of crimes considered Uackson, TIttle, and Burke, 1986). At the level of the group or society, normative conflicts are translated into rates of crime through the process of differential social organization. Specifically, the extent to which the group or society is organized in favor of crime versus against crime determines its rate of crime. Thus crime rates are a social organizational expression of normative conflict. Given a society in which members are surrounded by conflicting definitions of criminal behavior, and given that individual criminality is caused by learning an excess of definitions favorable to crime, social organization determines crime rates by influencing the probability that member will be exposed to the competing definitions. Stated differenthr J'nr.,."'ni .... .,.H""..... i .... +"" .......... (: .......; ......... " .."+n ..... ~ ................. " ......................... ;,.,~ .... l .............,,.,..............
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that expose individuals to criminal patterns; "organization against crime" refers to processes that expose individuals to anticriminal patterns. Like the differential association process, differential social organization can vary by offense: The organizational determinants of restraint of trade are likely to differ from the organizational determinants of vandalism. With reference to crime, the important elements of social organization are those that influence the probability that group members will be exposed to an excess of associations with criminal behavior patterns. When applied to a nation, this organization consists of the structure of political and economic institutions; when applied to a community, it refers to community organization; when applied to a delinquent gang, it refers to group structure and process. Many elements of such organizations are irrelevant to crime: thus diiferential social organization refers to those elements that affect the probability that group members receive an excess of definitions favorable to crime. For example, inner-city black youth have high rates of delinquency because of their social organizational context: structural barriers to economic success, residence in lowincome, high-delinquency neighborhoods, and high rates of female headed households lead to lax supervision, association with delinquents, and exposure to an excess of definitions favorable to delinquency (Matsueda and Heimer, 1987). Viewed at either the structural or individual level, differential association theory identifies a dynamic ongoing process of interaction that produces, among other things, criminal acts. The dynamic nature of the theory follows from the process model underlying the pragmatic philosophy of Chicago school sociology (Sutherland, 1973b). According to differential association, then, changes in social interactions cause individuals' ratios of definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime to vary over time. The degree to which definitions vary is dependent on the larger social organizational context of learning: In highly institutionalized contexts, consistent patterns are presented, yielding stable ratios of definitions; in less-structured settings, divergent patterns are presented, yielding fluctuating ratios of definitions. Changes in definitions of crime are ilio influenced by the individual's receptivity to new definitions either favorable or unfavorable to law violation. Sutherland hypothesized that differential receptivity is determined by the person's current ratio of learned behaviors: Those who have learned an overabundance of anticriminal definitions will be receptive to additional anticriminal definitions and resistant to procriminal definitions, and vice versa (Sutherland, 1973e; Sutherland and Cressey, 1978, pp. 89-90). Whether, at a given point in time, a person who has learned an ex(,pss nf ripfinitirmc;. f;\unr::l},lp tn ,..r;rYlo ",.-h,.,.Jh, ... "' ............. ~ .. ~ ..l-~
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dependent on variables exogenous to the differential association process. In an unusual critique of his own theory, Sutherland (1973d) identified two situational variables that he suggested invalidated differential association as a necessary and sufficient explanation of crime. The first is objective opportunity; clearly, without opportunity one cannot violate the law. Opportunity, however, is a complex concept, since the crucial element is perceived rather than objective opportunity. Given a situation of objective opportunity, differential association theory can explain why one person perceives the situation as a crime opportunity while another does not. The second is the presence or absence of alternate behaviors. Given a problematic situation in which crime is one solution, the decision to engage in crime may hinge on the availability of lawful solutions to the problem. Whether or not there are viable alternatives may be a function of the learning process. Some criminals, for example, may have learned that robbery is virtually the only way of obtaining money and have placed themselves in a situation in which they have no alternatives. In other cases, viable alternatives are limited by structural or objective barriers, such as unemployment or low income. Again, given the existence of alternative solutions, differential association can explain why a person chooses a criminal or lawful situation. We can state this dynamic process from the standpoint of the group or society. Temporal changes in the crime rate of a group or society are caused by changes in the relative balance of organization for and against crime. This process explains why the rate of crime does not increase indefinitely, as criminal patterns diffuse throughout society. As the crime rate increases and criminal behavior patterns increase in strength and number, conventional groups become organized against crime, initiating crime-control programs and media campaigns, all of which present anticriminal definitions, dry up criminal opportunities, and increase conventional alternatives, which in turn cause the crime rate to level off (Sutherland, 1973b. p. 21). This dynamic process, like the process of differential association, can vary by offense: The differential organizations influencing changes in rates of restraint of trade may differ from those that influence changes in rates of vandalism. Viewed in broader perspective, historical changes in crime rates for a given society are due to social-structural changes, which influence the extent of normative conflict.
THEORETICAL DEVELOPMENTS AND EMPIRICAL RESEARCH Differential association theory has spawned two major developrnents-
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difficult problem of operationalizing the theory's concepts, deriving hypotheses, and testing propositions. Theoretical developments have explored several crucial problems raised by the theory, such as identifying the precise mechanisms by which crime is learned and specifying a theory of the origins of delinquent subcultures. OPERATIONALlZING AND TESTING THE THEORY
Perhaps the most serious criticism of differential association argues that the theory cannot be tested empirically. Cressey (1960) has argued that even though the theory may be untestable, it remains an important principle for organizing our knowledge about the correlates of crime. Others chum that the theory is of little value if it cannot be tested (Gibbs. 1987; Glued~f 1966; Hirshi, 1969). Some versions of this criticism are on shaky ground because they fail to recognize that theories-being sets of interrelated propositions explaining a given phenomenon-are rarely testable as a whole. What are testable are specific hypotheses, propositions, or empirical implications of the theory (Glaser, 1960, 1962). Another version of this criticism is on safer ground. It argues that the critical variable in the individual-level explanation-an excess of definitions favorable to crime---<:annot be observed or measured. Sutherland (1973d, p. 36) noted that implicit in the abstract theory of differential association is the possibility of deriving a mathematical formula expressing a person's ratio of weighted definitions favorable and unfavorable to a specific crime. Even he admitted, however, to the difficulty of formulating such an expression (Sutherland, 1947, p. 7). Early empirical studies of juvenile delinquency operationalized differential association theory using the concept of associations with delinquent peers, and the frequency, duration, priority, and intensity of such associations. Most of these studies found general support for the theory: Juveniles who reported more delinquent friends tended to commit more delinquent acts (Short, 1957, 1958, 1960; Glaser, 1960; Reiss and Rhodes, 1964: Voss, 1964; StanJield, 1966; Hirschi, 1969; Krohn, 1974). This strategy assumes that most delinquent behaviors are learned from one's peers, that delinquent peers are likely to transmit delinquency and nondelinquent peers nondelinquency, and therefore the concept of delinquent peers is highly correlated with the concept of associations with definitions favorable and unfavorable to delinquency. The problem with this strategy is that it fails to measure directly the crucial variable, learned definitions of law violation. It is conceivable that some definitions favoring law violation are learned from non delinquents and some definitions favoring conformity are learned from delinquents. Further,
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out a hypothesis based on the opposite causal ordering, such as Glueck and Glueck's (1950, p. 164) "birds of a feather flock together." Several researchers facilitated a more direct strategy of operationalizing the theory by identifying the content of definitions favorable to crime and delinquency. Thus Cressey showed how verbalizations and rationalizations made up an important component of such definitions, then illustrated them with his studies of embezzlement and compulsive crimes (Cressey, 1952, 1954). Sykes and Matza (1957) then developed their concept of techniques of neutralization to illustrate prodelinquent definitions used by juveniles. Researchers have taken advantage of these refinements and developed survey instruments to measure a person's learned definitions of law violation Uensen, 1972; Hepburn, 1976; Griffin and Griffin, 1978; Matsueda, 1982; Jackson, little, and Burke, 1986; little, Burke, and Jackson, 1986; Orcut!, 1987; Matseuda and Heimer, 1987}. More recently, researchers have used advances in structural equation modeling to address three issues: response errors in measures of definitions of crime, dynamic processes inherent in the theory, and offensespecific models. Orcut! (1987) found that consistent with differential association theory, marijuana smoking is explained by definitions favorable to marijuana use and number of friends who smoke marijuana. Moreover, he found an interaction effect between the two variables, concluding that, as Sutherland (1973b, p. 40) suggested, predictions from differential association theory are increasingly uncertain as the ratio of definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime approaches unity. In my own work, I conceptualize the ratio of definitions of law violation as an unobservable, latent construct, which cannot be measured perfectly, but can be measured approximately by observable indicators from surveys. Such indicators, however, contain unreliability, which can attenuate effects that we are interested in. Covariance structure analysis allows us to correct for such attentuation by specifying and estimating a measurement model linking observable indicators to latent theoretical constructs. Using this strategy, we found that differential association is empirically supported: For both black and nonblack. males, the process of learning definitions favorable and unfavorable to delinquency is the intervening mechanism explaining the influence on delinquency of age, broken homes, socioeconomic status, neighborhood trouble, and parental and peer processes (Matsueda, 1982; Matseuda and Heimer, 1987). One llmitation of this line of research is that it relies on cross-sectional data to examine an inherently dynamic theory. Tittle and his colleagues used simultaneous equation models to model the dynamic nature of the theory and to examine whether Of not thp rliHoronti",l ::l"cn..... i:>H ..... n .......1"\....0""
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and Burke, 1986; TIttIe, Burke, and Jackson, 1986). They also examined the efficacy of several distinct operational measures, including associations with criminals, criminal attitudes, criminal normative expectations, fear of legal sanctions, and deviant motives. Using a variety of measures of the differential association process and seeking to disentangle their causal interrelationships, they found that a measure of motivation to deviate was a strong predictor, that the differential association process worked similarly for a variety ofoffenses, and that for some offenses, an offense-specific process appeared evident. Although this line of research addresses the dynamic nahlre of the theory, a better strategy would capitalize on longitudinal data, using panel or event history analysis. 4 REVISIONS OF THE THEORY
A number of criminologists have attempted to revise the theory of differential association so it would be more amenable to empirical test. Following the spirit of Sutherland's method, these theorists drew from principles of more general social psychological theories-namely, symbolic interaction and socialleaming. Thus Cressy (1945) applied the interactionist concepts of role-taking and motivation to link learned defirtitions of law violation to social roles, the building blocks of social structure. Glaser (1956) applied the interactionist concept of the self, arriving at his hypothesis of differential identification. He subsequently incorporated the concepts of commitment and role-taking and generalized his explanation to differential anticipation (Glaser, 1960, 1978). Other researchers have built upon these principles, investigating personality (Weinberg, 1966) and containment (Voss, 1969). TItis line of theorizing has great theoretical potential, but still requires additional development. Thus a more explicit conceptualization of the important elements of role-taking and cognitive processes are needed before operational measures can be located, and hypotheses derived and tested. The second line of revision incorporates principles of operant conditioning and socialleaming theory to specify the precise mechanisms by which crime is learned. Early versions incorporated Skinner's principles of classical and operant conditioning (JefITey, 1965; Burgess and Akers, 1966), while later versions added Bandura's (1969) socialleaming principles (Akers, 1977, 1985; Akers et a!., 1979). According to Aker's social learning theory, crime is initially learned through direct imitation or modeling; the subsequent likelihood of sustaining criminal behavior is determined by diHerential reinforcement, the relative rewards and punishments following the act. Reinforcement can be direct or vicarious, wherebv simnlv nh.<;prvinD" rmnthpr'~ rrirnin::ll h""h"lTinr ho;nn-
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reinforced will reinforce the observer's own criminal behavior. Definitions of crime are learned through this process and affect behavior directly, as well as indirectly, by serving as cues (discriminative stimuli) for law violation. Akers and his colleagues have not only specified a sodal learning theory, they have also developed operational indicators of imitation, differential reinforcement, and definitions of deviance. Moreover, they find that social learning theory explains substantial variation in substance abuse (Akers et al., 1979) and smoking (Krohn et al., 1985). Additional theoretical work needs to identify the important reinforcers for various definitions, explicitly link these to social organization and social structure, and specify a situational model of cognition and role-taking using socialleaming principles (e.g., Bandura, 1986). A third set of revisions attempted to answer MO important theoretical questions implied by differential association theory (Cohen, 1955; Cohen and Short, 1958; Cloward, 1959; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960). The first concerned the origins of crime: "Where did normative conflict or definitions favorable to crime come from?" The second concerned the specific nature of differential social organizations: "What are the socialstructural elements that influence rates of crime?" Both questions prompted research on the origins and persistence of subcultural delinquency as a phenomenon of lower-class adolescent males. For Cohen (1955), working-class subcultural delinquency results when lower-class adolescents, who lack the requisite social and academic skills due to cultural and structural barriers, fail to live up to middle-class standards. Those adolescents perceive a sense of personal failure and typically find themselves together in the market for a solution. Through a tentative, probing conversation of gestures--a process best characterized as one of trial and error-a group collectively innovates a new status hierarchy, a delinquent subculture. Reaction formation explains the content of such a subculture: They reduce their anxiety, exaggerating their disdain for middle-class values, leading to definitions favorable to delinquent behaviors that are impulsive, malicious, and irrational from the standpoint of the middle class. For Cloward and Ohlin (1960), the distribution of delinquent subcultures results from the structures of legitimate and illegitimate opportunity. Borrowing from Merton (1938), they argue that lower-class adolescents share middle-class aspirations of improving their economic status, but are structurally blocked from attaining those goals. Those who attribute their failure to a personal shortcoming are likely to adopt an isolated solution (turning to drugs) to their frustration, while those attributing failure to the inequitable social system, are more likely to adopt ~ _~11 __ ...: •• _ ,,~l •• ...:~~ , ..... ~:~~ ........:""l .... ~ ....... ___ ;~: ....... l ~ ...... ~ ... \
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tions are structured by illegitimate opportunity-the opportunity to engage in delinquency, to learn delinquent definitions, and to learn techniques of delinquency-which varies by neighborhood organization~ Such structures constitute Sutherland's "organization in favor of crime" (se: also Kobrin, 1951). In integrated lower-class neighborhoods, in which bonds form between criminal and conventional roles (such as fences and fixes) and between older and younger offenders, stable sub~ultures of theft flourish. In unintegrated, disorganized neighborhoods, little ,opportunity exists to learn and execute such sophisticated crimes, and, mstead, frustrated youth must turn to violence to obtain status and vent hostility. Finally, in neighborhoods lacking such organization, drug subcUltures develop. Most empirical research on this issue, however, has been unable to locate such distinct subcultures, finding instead a single parent subculture (Cohen and Short, 1958). The importance of this work lies in its attempts to identify the concre~e content of differential social organization and its attempt to explam the origins of definitions favorable to subcultural delinquency. Unfortunately, recent empirical research has trivialized this line of theorizing by confusing levels of explanation-reducing social structural concepts to individual-level characteristics-and by applying the explanation to explain all forms of delinquency, not merely the subcultural form (CulIen, 1984). It is not surprising that such research finds the trivialized theories unsupported.
KORNHAUSER'S CRITIQUE A recent trend among empirical researchers of crime is not an attempt to ~est or revise differential association theory, but rather an attempt to reject It outright in favor of either social control theory or a version of integrate~ theories. Much of the stimulus for this trend originates directly or indirectly from the work of Komhauser. Directly, Komhauser's (1978) recent work presents a seemingly devastating critique of differential association fro~ the standpoint of a social disorganization-social control perspective. IndIrectly, Kornhauser's (1963) earlier version of the work served as a the?retical framework for Travis Hirschi's (1969) key empirical study. wInch found support for his social control theory over differential association, and stimulated subsequent interest in the control perspective. Komhauser's (1978) essay is an excellent analytical dissection of t~aditional theories of delinquency along the lines of Core concepts or soclOlogy: social structure, culture, social order, socialization, and behavior. In a rhetorical exercise, she categorizes the major theories of crime
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. t cultural deviance, strain, and disorganization perspectives, then armoes that disorganization theories are ana I·all ··ally suytic y and empIrIC rerior. Unfortunately, by forcing differ~ntial assoc~ation the?ry into an rs;~plified depiction of cultural deVIance theones, she. IDlSconstrues oveuu sK S therland's enterprise and reduces his theory to a carIcature. ornh~user defines the parameters of a cultural deviance perspective by claiming they all subscribe to the following six assumptions.
1.
Human beings have absolutely no human nature, but instead are completely plastic (p. 36). 2. There is no consensus in modem societies: Laws cannot reflect consensuS, only subcultural values of powerful groups (pp. 44, 192). 3. Paradoxically, perfect consensus is the only source of social order: Modem societies, lacking consensus, have degenerated into a war of subcultures (pp. 38, 44). 4. Deviance (crime) is completely relative; even the most heinous offenses are lawful in some other time or place (pp. 38-40). 5. Conventional (lawful) culture and deviant subcultures are equally strong in influencing behavior (p. 27); socialization is always perfect (p. 194). 6. Behavior is always a perfect expression of subcultural values, and, therefore, behaviors are never deviant-only subcultures are (p. 25).
Hence the term "cultural deviance theory." Each of these assumptions exaggerates Sutherland's writings. Sutherland (1926; 1947, p. 90) did not assert that human beings have no nature, but simply argued that criminal behavior is learned, just like other behaviors. Thus human beings are born with a genetic makeup, with innate drives, and with impulses; however, the specific direction that these drives and impulses take, whether toward crime or conformity, is conditioned by social forces. Nor did Sutherland (1947, pp. 16-17) assume that modem societies are so conflict ridden as to preclude any form of consensus, or that consensus is the sole source of social order, or that laws cannot reflect any degree of agreement. In~tead, he simply observed that compared to many primitive undiff~rentiat~d societies, which present uniform behavior patterns, modem mdustrIal societies present inconsistent patterns of behavi?r (1947, p. 70). Often these inconsistencies motivate groups to pass cnmmallaws that outlaw what they regard as undesirable behaviors. Sutherland noted that comrnon-
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law crimes reflect a general agreement in society about general categories of behavior, and in fact probably originated from a crystalliza_ tion of mores (Sutherland, 1947, p. 16)6 Other laws, particularly statutory laws, clearly reflect conflicts of interests or values? When Sutherland said that crime is relative, he simply meant that laws differ in different societies. When he said that crime is the result of culture conflict, he meant that the presence of conflict over what specific~lly shoul~ be outlawed gives rise to criminal laws and ultimately Cf1lll€. He did not mean that consensus is nonexistent. Finally, Sutherland did not state that all cultures and subcultures are equally binding on behaviors, or that socialization is always perfect. Indeed, Sutherland (1973b, p. 21; 1947, pp. &-9) posited variation in the strength and content of both organization favoring crime and organization against crime. Sodalization at the individual level consists of learning definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime, both of which vary in strength (at minimum) by frequency, duration, priority, and intenSity. Sutherland (1973b, p. 21) implied that most people refrain from engaging in crime because conventional normative systems and organizations are almost always stronger than criminal organization. It turns out that contrary to the portrait painted by Kornhauser, Sutherland does not fit her caricature of cultural deviance theory: Cultures are not assumed equally binding, socialization is not assumed perfect, consensus and human nature are not precluded. From those assumptions imputed to Sutherland, Kornhauser (1978, pp. 189-200) derives several propositions about differential association that appear devastating but are in a fact wholly alien to the'theory. Sutherla~d, she argues, assumes that structural differentiation is perfectly mtrrored by subcultural differentiation, which in turn perfectly socializes its members to crime if its norms happen to be outside the purview of the law. Thus social structure and culture are indistinguishable: Social structure is a structure of values only. Moreover, social structure and cultures are not treated as variables, but as constants: Crime is explained not by weak culture and structure, but by perfect socialization to equally strong cultures and structures that vary only in normative content. Furthermore, the process by which definitions or delinquency are learned is beyond lawful regulation-the result of the aleatory process of the everproliferating structural and subcultural differentiation. Therefore, Sutherland is left with nothing to explain sociologically: Behavior, situations, culture, and social structure are all treated as constants, present everyvvhere, and, as such, present nowhere (p. 200). Because structure is culturel and culture is everywhere, Sutherland cannot tell us which elements of structure are important, which subgroups will
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form subcultures, or which subcultures will cause crime-in fact, he assumes that all subgroups are equally able to create values to justify their behavior. Finally, Sutherland is left with a conception of society that has nO order: While he argues that perfect consensus is the only source of order possible, he denies any consensus in social norms and laws. There cannot be even minimal agreements over the ndes of the game that would allow groups to conflict. Komhauser's reasoning may be logical, but because she has begun with a faulty premise-forcing differential association into her cultural deviance model-her reasoning leads her astray, causing her to build a straw man. Her misreading of Sutherland stems from her failure to appreciate two principles followed by Sutherland: logical abstraction, and differentiation of levels of explanation. Recall that Sutherland attempted to abstract from concrete historical conditions to a universal generalization, one that located the abstract processes and mechanisms that would determine criminality in all historical contexts. That generalization, based on normative conflict and differential social organization, is formally stated without concrete content. Komhauser confuses the statement of an abstract generalization with the statement of concrete conditions that can be explained by the generalization. Thus, while not formally stated in the abstract generalization, Sutherland clearly intended that the learning of definitions of crime is not a result of aleatory processes, but is structured by the concrete elements of social organization that determine communication patterns. These elements, which include social disorganization, cultural transmission, group organization, and the like, vary across groups, societies, and historical periods. That is, the concrete conditions vary in time and space, but the abstract mechanisms remain invariant. Sutherland was acutely aware of the problem of infinite regress, in which causal conditions are invalidated because they are caused by some prior condition, which in turn are invalid because of still prior causes, and so on. His solution was to hold the level of explanation constant at a given point, solve that problem, then move on to another level. Thus questions about why individuals have the associations they have or where definitions favorable to crime come from are important, but exist at a different level of explanation. Nevertheless, in his substantive writings, Sutherland did discuss many concrete mechanisms that addressed, but did not resolve, these questions. s At times, Kornhauser (1978, p. 7) appears to confuse levels of explanation, implying that social structure exists as a variable in the psychological processes operating at the individual level. Sutherland, in contrast, clearly differentiated the individual from social structure. He
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argued that historically, structural differentiation led to constraints on communication, divergences in interests, and restrictions on opportunities-all of which helped spawn differing definitions and interpretations of norms. The strength (weight) and content of those definitions or behavior patterns are influenced by the general social organization. Social structure, then, generates motives, attitudes, and rationalizations, and accounts fOT their distribution, but is, at the same time, analytically distinct from thosepattems. At the individual level, a person's location in social structure determines the person's group affiliations, communication patterns, objective interests, and so on, which in turn, influence the kinds of behavior patterns encountered. Shorn of misconceptions and Qversirnplifications, the root of Komhauser's critique of differential association does not involve the confusion of culture and social structure, the failure to treat culture as a variable, or the assumption of perfect socialization. Rather it boils down to thiS. Disorganization and control theories simply assume that the procriminal beliefs, motives, and interests of criminals do not very appreciably (if they exist at all) and do not have any causal impact on criminal behavior. All that varies are commitments and beliefs in conventional behavior. Thus by assumptiol1, only those definitions of behavior derived from middle-class morality are important; all other interpretations are discounted. Differential association theory, in contrast, allows for variation in the strength and content of both conventional and nonconventional motives, beliefs, and justifications. Moreover, the theory suggests t~at members first learn the precepts stated in law, then learn when the precepts apply and when they do not. Variations in these applications, and not necessarily an oppositional normative system, give rise to normative conflict, and constitute the crucial elements of definitions favorable to law violation (Sutherland, 1973c, p. 125, Cressey, 1953; Sykes and Matza, 1957). Since both procrirninal and anticriminal organizations vary independently in strength, four possible states of social organization, which vary by ofiense, are theoretically possible: (1) anticriminal organization can be strong while procriminal organization is weak; (2) the opposite can be true; (3) both can be strong; (4) and both can be weak. Social disorganization is a special case of differential social organization, in which only 1 and 4 are possible, since procriminal organization is assumed to be constant (weak) for all crimes. Komhauser (1978) concludes by specifying the causal structure of differential association theory, contrasting it with the causal structure of control theory, and bringing empirical evidence to bear on the issue. We can update that empirical evidence. The important distinguishing
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feature of the models is that for differential association theory, the effect on delinquency of variables representing social structure and social process (including elements of social bonding) should be mediated by the process of learning definitions of delinquency: In contrast, soclal control theory predicts that the elements of the SOCIal bond to co~ven tional society-such as attachment to parents and peers-should mfluence delinquency directly, regardless of learned definitions. Komhauser (1978, pp. 238-241) cites early studies of this issue, which found support for social control theory: In the face of dehmtions of delmquency, ~t tachment to parents and peers directly influenced delinquent behavlOr (Hirschi, 1969; Jensen, 1972, Hepbum, 1976). Recent research, however, has reached the opposite conclusion. Reanalyzing the data used by Hirschi and Jensen and using causal models that consider the process by which definitions are measured, we have found that for both black and nonblack males, differential association is supported over control theory (Matsueda, 1982; Matsueda and Heimer, (1987). Specifically, our construct representing the ratio of definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime mediates the influence on delinquency of attachment to parents, attachment to peers, broken homes, SES, age, and neighborhood delinquency (see also Ginsberg and Greenley, 1978; Johnson et aL, 1987; Krohn Lanza-Kaduce, and Akers, 1984). Tl~e work of Komhauser (1978) and Hirschi (1969) has stimulated a new trend which seeks not to test disparate theories against one another, but ~ather to gain greater explanatory power by integrating the important elements of such theories into a comprehensive model (Elliot!, Ageton, and Canter, 1979; Elliott, Huizinga, and Ageton, 1985; Hawkins and Weis, 1985; Johnson, 1979, Pearson and Wemer, 1985; Thornberry, 1987). Ostensibly, integrating explanatory mechanisms has the potential for developing a more powerful explanatory framework. illustrations can be found in integrations of theories operating at different levels of explanation, and answering distinct questions (Cohen, 1955, 1965; Cohen and Short, 1966; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960). Some of the recent approaches, however, suffer two weaknesses. First, an attempt t? explain individual criminality, several have att~mpted to mte~~te .v~n abIes derived from distinct levels of explanation, thereby tnvlalizmg group and societal-level concepts (Short, 1979).9 Second, .these theories often fail to reconcile conflicting assumptions underlymg theu constituent subtheories. Accordingly, the resulting theory typically is less an integrated theory than a reversion to one perspective or another (Hirschi, 1979). For example, clearly the most prominent integrated theory is Elliott and his colleagues' integration of strain, control, and social learning theories. Their empirical tests, which use perhaps the most ex-
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tensiv~ and c.arefully.co.llected data set on ~elinquency, appear to sup-
~ort differential aSSOCiation theory over stram and control theories. They
~d that the extent of {'bonding" to conventional and delinquent peers by far the most important predictor of delinquency, and mediates the influence on delinquency of strain and control variables. This finding is entirely consistent with differential association and socialleaming theories. Perhaps what is needed is an integrated theory based On a unified s.et of behavioral principles, and operating at distinct levels of explanation. The abstract principles of differential association or social learning theory may be an appropriate point of departure (Pears on and Weiner, 1985). 15
DIRECTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH Research that has operationalized, tested, and challenged diHerential associa tion theory continues to be significant for understanding the strengths and limitations of the theory's principles. There is, however, a second line of research that is sorely needed: Research that specifies the concrete elements ~f the theory's abstract principles-definitions favorable to crime, differential social organization, and normative Conflict. Such research would examine the social organization of crime in a given historical and geographical context, answering questions such as "VV-hat are the important definitions favorable to crime used by certain groups?" "What are the critical institutional elements of differential social organizations?" and "What components of social structure are most important for sustaining normative conflict?" Giving these abstract concepts historical content will have enormous payoHs. It will make the propositions derived from the theory easier to operationalize and test. It will allow us to make concrete predictions based on the theory and provide implications for public policy. It will also suggest ways to revise the theory's general principles in light of the evidence. Moreover, such a strategy would enrich the theory by giving meaning to the abstract concepts-indeed by bringing them life-and revealing concrete causal mechanisms.lO Such concrete studies, carried out at different levels of explanation-societal, group, individual, and situational-would draw from the broader behavioral and social theories from which differential association is derived. They would not be limited to static studies, but would also examine developmental processes culminating in individual changes and historical processes culmina ting in societal changes. Perhaps the most fundamental research problem facing differential rl_"c;;nri.:ltinn rhpnnr inlTnlHo'" irla... f-ihT'i ......... ~h ... " ... ",~~~j. ~t: ...1~-C;~;~~_~
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able to crime. Such content is likely to vary throughout history, across communication groups, and by criminal offense, such that a definition of crime pertinent to one offense, one group, and one period of time may be irrelevant for another offense, another group, and another time period. It seems clear that the preponderance of definitions favorable to crime are not appositional values that repudiate the legitimacy of the law and make crimes morally correct. Rather, most are verbalizations that seek to fit general norms and laws to specific concrete situations. ll What is needed is a series of inductive studies cataloging the important definitions applied to behavior by various groups, and situational studies examining the process by which individuals apply such verbalizations to conduct. This research would likely identify other variations in definitions besides Sutherland's four modalities, and perhaps lead to an alternative causal statement to the concept of a ratio of definitions. For example, the strength of a definition favorable or unfavorable to crime clearly depends in part on its persuasiveness, the rhetorical force of the underlying argument. Indeed, sociolinguistic research on the structure of arguments may be relevant. The definitions concept is likely a multidimensional construct, and research is needed to identify these dimensions (e.g., Tittle, Burke, and jackson, 1986). I2 A second problem requiring research concerns the relationships among roles, role-taking, and definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime. With the concept of role, the building block of social structure, lies the link between the social learning process specified in differential association and the broader social processes identified by differential social organization. This line of research would build on the work of Cressey (1954), Glaser (1956, 1960, 1978), and Weinberg (1966) in specifying a symbolic interactionist theory of role-taking, the social act, and motivation (Shibutani, 1986, Stryker, 1980: Bandura, 1986), which is consistent with Sutherland's (1926) thinking. Here, one could address the difficult problem of specifying a situational as opposed to developmental theory of crime. Sutherland (1939) first made tlus distinction, arguing that while differential association was a developmental theory, which explained criminality in terms of the prior life experiences of the individual, an equally important problem is explaining crime in terms of the immediate situation confronting the individual (see also Gibbons, 1971). Such an explanation could explain the mechanisms by which a person who has already learned an excess of definitions £avorable to crime either engages in or refrains from crime. Thus the explanation would include the intersection of objective opportunity, interactions of role-taking with others, and the process by which learned definitions are interpreted and applied to a developing line of "",..,;.; .....,.., I ....
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of group-process, interactional, and collective behavior theories, as well as theories of choice. 14 Concretely, it would answer questions that Sutherland raised years ago, but did not answer: "What role does objective opportunity and alternative behaviors play in the immediate situation confronting the actor?" " To what extent do criminals leam definitions favorable to crime and then actively seek criminal opportunities and actively ignore conventional alternatives?" Furthermore, it would provide a frame of reference for examining how groups control the behavior of their members, including informal and formal sanctions. From an interactionist perspective, individuals learn, through 50cializatioTI, to take the role of the generalized other-including primarily personal groups, but also abstract groups, such as the criminal justice system-and consider their anticipated behaviors from the standpoint of the group (Mead, 1934). Thus the definitions and sanctions of personal groups would be most important in controlling behavior. Formal sanctions would be expected to influence behavior inasmuch as the individual takes the role of the legal system, and, more important, to the extent that his or her personal groups espouse the nonns and fear the sanctions of the legal system (Sutherland, 1947, p. 374; Silberman, 1976). Glaser (1960, 1978), with his theories of differential social control and differential anticipation, has begun to spell out principles consistent with this framework (for a more complete treatment, see Matsueda, 1988). It is quite likely that this situational model of the criminal act would prove equally useful as a model of learning criminal behavior. The best example of research along these lines is still Short and Strodtbeck's (1965) classic study of group process and gang delinquency. Once specified, such models can provide a research framework for analyzing the relatiol15hips among social learning, social roles, and roletransitions within a life-course perspective (Yamaguchi and Kandel, 1985). In turn, this perspective can be used to explain the aging effect, maturation, and other dynamic processes in crime. Research along these lines may reveal that role-transitions are key pivots for changes in interests, commitments, and communication patterns, leading to changes in the efficacy and content of definitions pertaining to crime. It may reveal further that older criminals have learned that the aging process makes crime difficult, that a feeling of burnout offsets the rewards and incentives from crime, and that crime than becomes redefined (Shover, 1985). Furthermore, it may reveal that engaging in criminal behavior acts back on social organization, influencing one's group affiliations, commitments, and communication patterns, and thus influencing the
281
learning of behavior patterns. These group processes, social roles, and life~course variations malce up an important component of differential group organization. Given the importance of co~unica.ti~n n~tw~rks in the differential association process, the geographic vanation ID crune rates may be fruitfully concephIalized as a problem of social networks or sociometrics (Krohn, 1986). Then, methodological advances in network analysis, graph theory, and block modeling can be used to examine networks of crime. These group influences are, of course, structured by the backdrop of larger instihItions and social structures. Much research has shown that neiahborhood and community organization, family structures and pro~esses, and school organization are crucial elernent~ of differ~nti~l social organization, which explain aggregate rates of crIDle. Such mstitutions can control crime by serving as conduits for anticriminal definitions, by hampering the dissemination of procriminal patterns, and by providing conventional opportunities while desiccating criminal opportunities (Sutherland and Cressey, 1978). An important line of research would examine dynamic changes in differential social organization (including changes in these institutional contexts) on aggregate rates of crime. It would also examine the dynamic influe~ce of the social organization of objective opportunities, as developed m the routine activities approach (Cohen and Felson, 1979). Although Sutherland did not specify a theory of social structure in differential association, he did discuss the importance of components of social structure, such a social class, for structuring group organizations and learning processes. Moreover, Sutherland (1947, pp. 69-75) presented a complex analysis of the origins of normative conflict, arguing that industrialization and the emergence of capitalism debilitated traditional forms of social control and spawned motives for crime. Specifically, with industrialization and the transition from the old feudal order to capitalism, old institutions and controls, such as the church, were wealcened. Concomitantly, capitalist competition fostered an individualism and materialism that was easily transformed into criminality. And, finally, the law as an agency of control was weakened by the interests of powerful business, which favored a "hands-off" government and often resorted to white-collar crimes to gain a competitive edge. Cressey later expanded this analysis, drawing explicitly on the writings of Durkheim, Weber, and Merton (Sutherland and Cressey, 1978).
The abstract principles of differential association theory are compatible with other theories of social struchlre, such as Marxist theories of class structure under capitalism. In fact, differential association theory
282
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Differential Association and Neutralization
seems more compatible with a Marxist political economic theory than is
social control theory, even though recent writings have attempted to combine the latter two (Colvin and Pauly, 1983; Hagan, Simpson, and Giliis, 1985; Groves and Sampson, 1987). For any Marxian dass analysis, the fundamental underlying structure of capitalist society is class conflict between capitalists and workers. Their contradictory class locations give rise to conflicting material interests; thus history is a history of class struggle, of which the state, law, and criminal justice system play a critical role in maintaining the hegemony of capitalist institutions. Such rudimentary assumptions are consistent with the underlying model of normative conflict assumed by differential association-economic classes struggling to realize their interests, with the powerful capitalist class securing the state to promote its class interests. The seeds of political consciousness in the working dass, which are revealed at times by embryonic acts of protest, strikes, and violence, consist of competing interpretations and definitions of conventional norms and laws. Social control theory, in contrast, assumes a consensual moral order, in which competing definitions, beliefs, and motives are either nonexistent or impotent to explain behavior. Even Colvin and Pauly (1983), who daim to consider variation in both the strength and content of the social bond, fail to allow for conflicting motives and interests held by the working dass. IS The problem is in the use of the concept of social bond, which eliminates meaning and interests, and instead focuses exclusively on conventional controls.
CONCLUSION Fifty years ago, Sutherland outlined a series of abstract principles, derived from broader principles of social psychology and sociology, that made sense of the many concrete conditions associated with crime. The e.A:planation was intended to arrive at a universal explanation of crime: While concrete conditions may vary across groups, societies, and history, the abstract mechanisms would remain invariant. It was a bold endeavor, bringing both fame and criticism. Although Sutherland intended his differential association theory to be a "tentative hypothesis," subject to disconfirmation and eventual revision, he viewed his methodology of searching for universal explanations as the essence of good science. I have attempted to demonstrate the strengths and limitations of Sutherland's theory, showing that his general principles and orientation are basically sound, but that his explanation requires much more work. The search for abstract mechanisms, principles, and generalizat-inn<:: i<:: .... nlri"'l fnr tho "..-l"." .........:'.-.Y'On..... 1- .... t: l~ ......... Tl..,--1~~ _~ •• ~_ 1: __ 1-_1- __ -= ___ 1
283
laws, suggesting concrete causal conditions, and implying targets for controlling crime. But we have scarcely scratched the surface; much work remains.
NOTES 1. Cressey (1960) changed Sutherland's term "culture conflict" to "norma~ tive conflict" because culhlre conflict was mistakenly interpreted to refer only to the conflict between the cultures of :immigrants and the larger conventional culture (see Cressey, 1968). 2. Following Cressey (1960), I am making a distinction behveen the differential association "process" and differential association "theory." The former refers solely to the nine propositions describing the process by which a person becomes delinquent. The latter refers to the theory taken as a whole, and thus includes tile differential association process, differential social organization, and normative conflict. 3. The differential association hypothesis, then, specifies that crintinal behavior will occur when a person's learned ratio of weighted definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime exceeds unity. Sutherland (1973d, p. 40) noted that a theory's predictions may become increasingly uncertain as tile ratio approaches unity (Orcutt, 1987). 4. AnotIler method of testing differential association theory is consistent Witil Sutherland's (1973) recommendations for developing knowledge through experimental evaluations of correctional programs. Based on Cressey's (1955) derivations of treatment principles from the theory, these studies test hypotheses not by using statistical controls within causal models, but rather by using randomization within experimental designs. Both Empey and Erickson (1972) and Andrews (1980) evaluated delinquency programs based on differential association and found support for the tIleory. Glaser (1956) found that the best predictors for parole violation were consistent with differential association theory. 5. Space limitations preclude a comprehensive treatment of Kornhauser's complex and numerous arguments. Here, I will attempt to characteriz~ and address her major criticisms directly concerning differential aSSOCIation theory. Long ago, Cressey provided an excellent summary and response to popular criticisms of differential association theory. (Cressey, 1960, 1964: Sutherland and Cressey, 1978).
6.
For Sutherland, nonnative conflict typically refers less to conflict over the moral efficacy of the general glass ofbehaviors outlawed, but rather refers to disagreements over the specific situations to which the laws should apply. Thus there is general consensus that stealing should be . outlawed, but disagreement over whether persons should steal to aVOId starving (Sutherland 1973, p. 125). Such disagreements, often extensions of legal defenses to crime, constitute definitions favorable to crime {f' _____ •• 1n!:~. C ••l'm' ~~..l -".{."t-.. .,
10e;7\
284
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
19. Ross L. Matsueda
Differential Association and Neutralizalion
At one point, Kornhauser (1978, pp. 41--42) backs off from her consensus assumptions and concedes that law serves the powerful more effectively th~ the powe~le5s. She then tries to argue that such l.1.WS concern only whIte-collar cnmes, and not the crimes of juveniles. This is a specious argument, since we are concerned here with fundamental underlying assumptions about social order and criminal law, not a subset of laws. Moreover, it appears that laws pertaining to juveniles reflect class interests and not consensus (Platt, 1969). For example, Sutileriand (1947, pp. 69-75) described general social processes leading to normative conflict, such as the demise of primitive undifferentiated societies, the rise of capitalism and a concomitant individualistic ideology, and the development of a competitive economic system. He also identified concrete elements of differential social organization, such as Shaw and McKay's processes of social disorganization and cultural transmission, the formation of delinquent gangs, the organization of professional theft and circus grifting, and the org
~
285
propensity to commit crimes, and a situational theory of the criminal act as it unfolds. This parallels the conceplualization laid out by Hirschl and Gottfredson (1986) in their concepts of criminality (propensity) and criminal events (situations of crime). 14. The formal utility models specified by economists provide a situational explanation of crime, but for two reasons, are probably not very useful for our purposes. First, they simply assume a rational choice process at a 5ituationallevel, and assume that departures from U1at process wash out in the aggregate. Second, like differential association, they specify an abstract model of rationality, but fail to specify concretely what the utilities are. The problem I have identified is to specify those concrete conditions. 15. That such theories concern juvenile delinquents who are generally not linked directly to class conflict does not eliminate this problem. Clearly, a social psychological model that allows for competing interests is needed.
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Contemporary Application 20 The Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among College Students DONALD L. MCCABE INTRODUCTION Numerous studies have demonstrated the pervasive nature of cheating among college students (Baird 1980; Haines, Diekhoff, LaBeff, and Clark 1986; Michaels and Miethe 1989; Davis, et a!. 1992). This research has examined a variety of factors that help explain cheating behavior, but the strength of the relationships between individual factors and cheating has varied considerably from study to study (Tittle and Rowe 1973; Baird 1980; Eisenberger and Shank 1985; Haines, et a!. 1986; Ward 1986; Michaels and Miethe 1989; Perry, Kane, Bernesser, and Spicker 1990; Ward and Beck 1990). Although the factors examined in these studies (for example, personal work ethic, gender, self-esteem, rational choice, social learning, deterrence) are clearly important, the work of LaBeff, Clark, Haines, and Diekholf (1990) suggests that the concept of situational ethics may be particularly helpful in understanding student rationalizations for cheating. Extending the arguments of Norris and Dodder (1979), LaBelf et al. conclude that students hold qualified guidelines for behavior which are situationally determined. As such, the concept of situational ethics might well describe ... college cheating [as] rules for behavior may not be considered rigid but depend on the circumstances involved. (1990, p. 191.)
LaBeff et al. believe a utilitarian calculus of "the ends justifies the means" underlies this reasoning process and "what is vvrong in most
''1l1e Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among College Students" by Donald L. McCabe, from Soci%gicn/ Inquiry 623, pp. 365-374, by permission of the author and the University of Texas Press. All rights retained by the University of Texas Press. TIle author would like to aCknowledge the support of the Rutgers Graduate School of Managemenl Research Resoltrces Committee, Exxon Corporation and First Fidelity Bancorporation.
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situations might be considered right or acceptable if the end is defined as appropriate" (1990, p. 191). As argued by Edwards (1967), the situation deterrrrines what IS right or wrong In thIS deCIsIOn-makmg calculus and also dictates the appropriate principles to be used in guiding and judging behavior. Sykes and Matza (1957) hypothesize that such rationalizations, that is, "justifications for deviance that are seen as valid by the delinquent but not by the legal system or society at large" (p. 666), are common. However, they challenge conventional wisdom that such rationalizations typically follow deviant behavior as a means of protecting "the individual from self-blame and the blame of others after the act" (p. 666). They develop convincing arguments that these rationalizations may logically precede the deviant behavior and U[ d]isapproval from internalized norms and conforming others in the social environment is neutralized, turned back, or deflated in advance. Social controls that serve to check or inhibit deviant motivational patterns are rendered inoperative, and the individual is freed to engage in delinquency without serious damage to his self image" (pp. 666-667). Using a sample of 380 undergraduate students at a small southwestern university, LaBelf et a!. (1990) attempted to classify techniques employed by students in the neutralization of cheating behavior into the five categories of neutralization proposed by Sykes and Matza (1957): (1) denial of responsibility, (2) condemnation of condemners, (3) appeal to higher loyalties, (4) denial of victim, and (5) denial of injury. Although student responses could easily be classified into three of these techniques, denial of responsibility, appeal to higher loyalties, and condemnation of condemners, LaBeff et al. conclude that "[i]t is unlikely that srudents will either deny injury or deny the victim since there are no real targets in cheating" (1990, p. 196). The research described here responds to LaBeff et at in two ways; first, it answers their call to "test the salience of neutralization ... in more diverse university environments" (p. 197) and second, it challenges their dismissal of denial of injury and denial of victim as neutralization techniques employed by students in their justification of cheating behavior.
METHODOLOGY The data discussed here were gathered as part of a study of college cheating conducted during the 1990-1991 academic year. A seventy-hvo item questionnaire concerning cheating behavior was administered to
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students at thirty-one highly selective colleges across the country. Surveys were mailed to a minimum of five hundred students at each school and a total of 6,096 completed surveys were returned (38.3 percent response rate). Eighty-eight percent of the respondents were seniors, nine percent were juniors, and the remaining tIuee percent could not be classified. Survey administration emphasized voluntary participation and assurances of anonymity to help combat issues of non-response bias and the need to accept responses without the chance to question or contest them. The final sample included 61.2 percent females (which reflects the inclusion of five all female schools in the sample and a slightly higher return rate among female students) and 95.4 percent U.S. citizens. The sample paralleled the ethnic diversity of the participating schools (85.5 percent Anglo, 7.2 percent Asian, 2.6 percent African American, 2.2 percent Hispanic and 2.5 percent other); their religious diversity (including a large percentage of students who claimed no religious preference, 27.1 percent); and their mix of undergraduate majors (36.0 percent humanities, 28.8 percent social sciences, 26.8 percent natural sciences and..engineering, 4.5 percent business, and 3.9 percent other).
RESULTS Of the 6,096 students participating in this research, over two-thirds (67.4 percent) indicated that they had cheated on a test or major assignment at least once while an undergraduate. This cheating took a variety of different forms, but among the most popular (listed in decreasing order of mention) were: (1) a failure to footnote sources in written work, (2) collaboration on assignments when the instructor specifically asked for individual work, (3) copying from other students on tests and examinations, (4) fabrication of bibliographies, (5) helping someone else cheat on a test, and (6) using unfair methods to learn the content of a test ahead of time. Almost one in five students (19.1 percent) could be classified as active-cheaters (five or more self-reported incidents of cheating). 'This is double the rate reported by LaBeff et al. (1990), but they asked students to report only cheating incidents that had tal(en place in the last six months. Students in this research were asked to report all cheating in which they had engaged while an undergraduate-a period of three years for most respondents at the time of this survey. Students admitting to any cheating activity were asked to rate the importance of several specific factors that might have influenced their decisions to cheat. These data establish the importance of denial of re-
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sponsibility and condemnation of condemners as neutralization techniques. For example, 52.4 percent of the respondents who admitted to cheating rated the pressure to get good grades as an important influence in their decision to cheat with parental pressures and competition to gain admission into professional schools singled out as the primary grade pressures. Forty-six percent of those who had engaged in cheating cited excessive worldoads and an inability to keep up -with assignments as important factors in their decisions to cheat. In addition to rating the importance of such preselected factors, 426 respondents (11.0 percent of the admitted cheaters) offered their own justifications for cheating in response to an open-ended question on motivations for cheating. These responses confirm the importance of denial of responsibility and condemnation of condemners as neutralization techniques. They also support LaBeff et a1.'s (1990) claim that appeal to higher loyalties is an important neutralization technique. However, these responses also suggest that LaBeff et al.'s dismissal of denial of injury as a justification for student cheating is arguable. AB shown in rable 20.1, denial of responsibility waS the technique most frequently cited (216 responses, 61.0 percent of the total) in the 354 responses classified into one of Sykes and Matza's five categories of the neutralization. The most common responses in this category were mind block, no understanding of the material, a fear of failing, and unclear explanations of assignments. (Although it is pOSSible that some instances of mind block and a fear of failing included in this summary would be more accurately classified as rationalization, the wording of all responses included here suggests that rationalization preceded the cheating incident. Responses that seem to involve post hoc rationalizations were excluded from this summary). Condemnation of condemners was the second most popular neutralization technique observed (99 responses, 28.0 percent) and included such explanations as pointless assignments, lack of respect for individual professors, unfair tests, parents' expectations, and unfair professors. Twenty-four respondents (6.8 percent) appealed to higher loyalties to explain tileir behavior. In particular, helping a friend and responding to peer pressures were influences some students could not ignore. Finally, fifteen students (4.2 percent) provided responses that clearly fit into the category of denial of injury. These students dismissed their cheating as harmless since it did not hurt anyone or they felt cheating did not matter in some cases (for example, where an assignment counted for a small percentage of the total course grade). Detailed examination of selected student responses provides additional insight into the neutralization strategies they employ.
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TABLE 20.1
NEUTRALIZATION STRATEGIES; SELF-ADMITTED CHEATERS
297
Everyone has test files in fraternities, etc. If you don't you're at a great disadvantage. When most of the class is cheating on a difficult exam and they will ruin U1e curve, it influences you to cheat 50 your grade won't be affected.
NUl\IBER
PERCENT
216 90 31 95
61.0 25.4 8.8 26.8
All of these responses contain the essence of denial of responsibility: the cheater has deflected blame to others or to a specific situational context.
Condemnation of condemners Pointless assignment No respect for professor Other
99 35 28 36
28.0 9.9 7.9 10.2
DENIAL OF INJURY
Appeal to higher loyalties Help a friend Peer pressure Other
24
6.8 2.8
Denial of injury Chea ting is harmless Does not matter
15 9 6
STRATEGY
Denial of responsibility
Mind block No understanding of material Other
10 9 5
2.5 1.5 4.2
2.5 1.7
As noted in Table 20.1, denial of injury was identified as a neutralization technique employed by some respondents. A key element in denial of injury is whether one feels "anyone has clearly been hurt by (the) deviance." In invoking this defense, a cheater would argue "that his behavior does not really cause any great harm despite the fact that it runs counter to the law" (Sykes and Matza 1957, pp. 667-668). For example a number of students argued that the assignment or test on which they cheated was so trivial that no one was really hurt by their cheating. TI1ese grades aren't worth much therefore my copying doesn't mean very much. I am ashamed, but I'd probably do it the same way again.
DENIAL OF RESPONSIBILITY
Denial of responsibility invokes the claim that the act was "due to forces outside of the individual and beyond his control such as unloving parents"(Sykes and Matza 1957, p. 667). For example, many students cite an unreasonable workload and the difficulty of keeping up as ample justification for cheating. Here aL., you IDustcheat to stay alive. There's so much work and the quality of materials from which to learn, books, professors, is 50 bad that there's no other choice. It's the only way to keep up.
t couldn't do the work myself.
The following descriptions of students cheating confirm fear of failure is also an important form of denial of responsibility: ... a take-home exam in a class I was failing. ... was near failing.
Some justified their cheating by citing the behavior of peers:
If I extend the time on a take home it is because I feel everyone does and the teacher kind of expects it. No one gets hurt.
As suggested earlier, these responses suggest the conclusion of laBeff et a1. that "(i)t is unlikely that students will ... deny injury" (1990, p. 196) must be re-evaluated. THE DENIAL OF THE VICTIM
LaBeff et a1. failed to find any evidence of denial of the victim in their student accounts. Although the student motivations for cheating summarized in Table 20.1 support this conclusion, at least four students (0.1 % of the self-admitted cheaters in this study) provided comments elsewhere on the survey instrument which involved denial of the victim. The common elements in these responses was a victim deserving of the consequences of the cheating behavior and cheating was viewed as "a form of rightful retaliation or punislunent" (Sykes and Matza 1957, p . 668) .
This feeling was extreme in onc casc, as suggested by the following student who felt her cheating was justified by the
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Differential Association and Neutralization
re~lization that this school is a manifestation of the bureaucratic capitalist syst~m that s~5tematically keeps the lower classes down, and
that adhermg to their rules was simply perpetuating this institution.
.This '~el versus 'they' mentality was raised by many students, but l~ ~on:ments abo~t the policing of academic honesty rather t~an as Ju.stificahon for one 5 own cheating behaviof. When used to justify chea~g: th: target was almost always an individual teacher rather than the msti~tion and could be more accurately classified as a strategy of condemnation of condemners rather than denial of the victim.
typlcall!
THE CONDEMNATION OF CONDEMNERS
Sykes and Matza describe the condemnation of condemners as an attempt to shift "the focus of attention from [one's] own deviant acts to the motives and behaviors of those who disapprove of [the] violations. [B]y attacking others, the wrongfulness of [one's] own behavior is more easily repressed or lost to view" (1957, p. 668). The logic of this strategy for student cheaters focused on issues of favoritism and fairness. Students in:voking this rationale describe "uncaring, unprofessional instructors WIth negative attitudes who were negligent in their behavior" (LaBeff et a!. 1990, p. 195). For example: In one instance, nothing was done by a professor because the student was a hockey player. The TAs who graded essays were unduly harsh. It is known by students that certain professors are more lenient to certain types, e.g., blondes or hockey players.
I woul~ guess that 90% o~ the students here have seen athletes and/or fraterruty me~bers cheating on an exam or papers. If you turn in one of these culpnts, and I have, the penalty is a five-minute lecture from a coach and! or a.dministrator. All these add up to a 'who cares, they'll never do anythmg to you anyway' attitude here about cheating.
THE ApPEAL TO HIGHER LOYALTIES
The appeal to higher loyalties involves neutralizing "internal and external controls ... by sacrificing the demands of the larger society for the demands of the smaller social groups to which the [offender] belongs. [D]eviation from certain norms may occur not because the norms are rejected but because other norms, held to be more pressing or involving a higher loyalty, are accorded precedence." (Sykes and Matza 1957, p. 669). For example, a difficult conflict for some students is balancing the desire to help a friend against the institution's rules on cheating. The student may not challenge the rules, but rather views the need to help a friend, fellow fraternity I sorority member, or roommate to be a greater obligation which justifies the cheating behavior. Fraternities and sororities were singled out as a netw-ork where such behavior occurs with some frequency. For example, a female student at a small university in New England observed: There's a lot of cheating within the Greek system. Of all the cheating I've seen, it's often been men and women in fraternities & sororities
who exchange information or cheat.
The appeal to higher loyalties was particularly evident in student reactions concerning the reporting of cheating violations. Although fourteen of the thirty-one schools participating in this research had explicit honor codes that generally require students to report cheating violations they observe, less than one-third (32.3 percent) indicated that they were likely to do so. When asked if they would report a friend, only four percent said they would and most students felt that they should not be expected to do 50. Typical student comments included: Students should not be sitting in judgment of their own peers. The university is not a police state.
For some this decision was very practical.
Concerns about the larger society were an important issue for some students: When community frowns upon dishonesty, then people will change. If our leaders can commit heinous acts and then lie before Sena te COffinll.ttees about their total ignorance and innocence, then why can't I cheat a lIttle? In today's world you do anything to be above tlle competition.
In general, students found ready targets on which to blame their ?eh~vior and condemnation of the condemners was a popular neutral-
Ization strategy.
299
A lot of students, 50 percent, wouldn't because they know they will probably cheat at some point themselves.
For others, the decision would depend on the severity of the violation they observed and many would not report what they considered to be minor violations, even those explicitly covered by the school's honor code or policies on academic honesty. Explicit examination or test cheating was one of the few violations where students exhibited any consensus concerning the need to report violations. Yet even in this case many students felt other factors must be considered. For example, a senior at ::I
l,vnmpn'". rnllpO"P in thp nnrthp;:\c.t rnrnmpnh",.j·
300
Differential Association and Neutralization
It would depend on the circumstances. If someone was hurt, venJ likely. If there was no single victim in the case, if the victim was [tile] institution ... , Ulen venJ tllllikcly.
Additional evidence of the strength of the appeal to higher loyalties as a neutralization technique is found in the fact that almost one in five respondents (17.8 percent) reported U,at they had helped someone cheat on an examination or major test. The percentage who have helped others cheat on papers and other assignments is likely much higher. Twenty-six percent of those students who helped someone else cheat on a test reported that they had never cheated on a test themselves, adding support to the argument that peer pressure to help friends is quite strong.
CONCLUSIONS From this research it is clear that college students use a variety of neutralization techniques to rationalize their cheating behavior, deflecting blame to others and/or the situational context, and the framework of Sykes and Matza (1957) seems well supported when student explanations of cheating behavior are analyzed. Unlike prior research (LaBeff et al. 1990), however, the present findings suggest that students employ all of the techniques described by Sykes and Matza, including denial of injury and denial of victim. Although there was very limited evidence of the use of denial of victim, denial of injury was not uncommon. Many students felt that some forms of cheating were victimless crimes, particularly on assignments that accounted for a small percentage of the total course grade. The present research does affinn LaBeff et al. 's finding that denial of responsibility and condemnation of condemners are the neuh'alization techniques most frequently utilized by college students. Appeal to higher loyalties is particularly evident in neutralizing institutional expectations that students report cheating violations they observe. The present results clearly extend the findings of LaBeff et al. into a much wider range of contexts as this research ultimately involved 6,096 students at thirty-one geographically dispersed institutions ranging from small liberal arts colleges in the Northeast to nationally prominent research universities in the South and West. Fourteen of the thirty-one institutions have long standing honor-code traditions. The code tradition at five of these schools dates to the late 1800s and all fourteen have codes that survived the student unrest of the 19605. In such a context, the strength of the appeal to higher loyalties and the denial of responsibility as justifications for cheating is a very persuasive argument that neu-
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301
tralization techniques are salient to today's college student. More importantly, it may suggest fruitful areas of future discourse between faculty, administrators, and students on the question of academic honesty.
REFERENCES Baird, John S. 1980. "Current Trends in College Cheating." PsycllOlogtj ill ScllOols 17:512-522. Davis, Stephen E, Cathy A. Grover,Angela H. Beeker, and Loretta N, McGregor. 1992. "Academic Dishonesty: Prevalence, Detenninants, Techniques, and Punishments." Teachillg of Psychology. In press. Edwards, Paul. 1967, Tile Ellcyclopedia Of Philosophy, no. 3, edited by Paul Edwards, New York: Macmillan Company and Free Press. Eisenberger, Robert, and Dolores M. Shank. 1985. "Personal Work Ethie and Effort Training Affect Cheating." lOl/mal of Personality find Social Psychology 49:520-528. Haines, Valerie J., George Diekhoff, Emily LaBeff, and Robed Clark. 1986. "College Cheating: Immaturity, Lack of Commitment, and the Neutralizing Attitude." Research ill Higher Edllcatioll25:342-354. LaBeff, Emilv E., Robert E. Clark, Valerie J. Haines and George M. DieldlOff. 1990. "Sit~ational Ethics and College Student Cheating." Sociological Inquiry 60:190-198. Michaels, James W., and Terance Miethe. 1989 "Applying Theories of Deviance to Academic Cheating." Socilll Sciellce Qllllrterly 70:870-885. Norris, Terry D., and Richard A Dodder. 1979. "A Behavioral Continuwn Synthesizing Neutralization Theory, Situational Ethics and Juvenile Delinquency." AdolesceJlce 55:545-555, Perry, Anthony R, Kevin M. Kane, Kevin J, Bemesser, and Paul T. Spicker. 1990. "Type A Behavior, Competitive Achievement-Striving, and Cheating Among College Students." Psychological Reports 66:459-465. Sykes, Gresham M., and David Matza. 1957. "Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency." America/l Sociological Review 22:664--670 TIttle, Charles, and Alan Rowe. 1973. "Moral Appeal, Sanction Threat, and Deviance: An Experimental Test. "Socinl Problems 20:488-498, Ward, David. 1986. "Self-Esteem and Dishonest Behavior Revisited." TOllmlll of Social PsycllOlogtj 123:709-713. Ward, David, and Wend}' L. Beck. 1990. "Gender and Dishonesty." The lOl/mal of Social Psychology 130:333~339.
CHAPTER
V Control Theory
The readings presented in the preceding chapters were written by theorists who have sought to explain how deviance develops from structural conditions in society, interactional patterns, learrung techniques, and rationalizations of behavior. In a very real sense, their major concern is accounting for deviant motivation and examining those factors that are assumed to be important reasons why people acquire such motivational aspirations. While the theorists considered in this chapter have a similar interest in motivation, the thrust of their argument is directed at explaining conformity, on the assumption that deviance will occur naturally unless people are motivated to conform. Drawing upon the writings of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century social philosophers, control theorists assert that human beings are basically antisocial. They assume that deviance is part of the natural order in society; that is, norm violation is inherently attractive and exciting to most people, and therefore most people are naturally motivated to deviate if they can get away with it. However, control theorists posit that deviant motivation alone does not adequately explain why people engage in norm-violating behaviori it is more important to understand why people do obey the rules of society. Control theory therefore focuses primarily on the forces that prevent people from deviating, not on those that encourage them to deviate. This chapter's first selection (Reading 21), by WaIter C. Reckless, deals with the impact of social control on deviance. Reckless describes how external and internal controls can insulate individuals from the pressures and pulls toward deviance. His containment theory emphasizes the importance of controlling mechanisms in negating or neutralizing the various pressures or pushes to deviate that people encounter in ~hAiT"
.-:I;;,'J1.' liupt:
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Vi.' 304
Control Theory
ment-especiallya strong sense of one's self-is more important for controlling deviance in modem industrial societies because of the decreasing significance of external controls traditionally imposed by a person's family or neighbors. Reading ??, excerpted from Travis Hirschi's Causes of DeIillqucncy, extends the basic premises of control theory outlined by Recldess, with special attention to the individual's bond to others. Hirschi's basic contention is that human beings are inherently antisocial and prone to deviate unless prevented from doing so by conformity-demanding commitments to others. Because most individuals do not engage in deviance most of the time, for Hirschi the central question in explaining deviance should be, "Why don't they do it?" In answering this question, he builds upon Durkheim's claim that the extent of a person's integration in groups is of paramount importance in accoWlting for conformity and deviance. For Hirschi, internalization of accepted nonns and sensitivity to the needs of others are the central elements fostering conformity in society. Thus, an individual who is insensitive to the expectations of others and does not feel bound by norms (i.e., the bond to society has been weakened) is free to form attachments and engage in relationships with others who may favor deviant activities and lifestyles. Selection 23 is from :M:ichael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi' 5 book fl General TlzeonJ of Crillle. Hirschi's bond theory, described in the previous selection, and this evolution of it each start with the same premise: People will naturally be deviant in the absence of controls to prevent them from being so. TIle general theory of crime in this selection goes on to focus particularly on a lack of self-control that is alleged to be the underlying characteristic of most, if not all, individuals who commit crimes. "In sum, people who lack self-control will tend to be impulsive, insensitive, physical (as opposed to mental), risk-taking, short-sighted, and nonverbal, and they will tend therefore to engage in criminal and analogous acts," say Gottfredson and Hirschi. Their main point is that self-control does not arise in any individual automatically. They observe that low self-control is most apt to occur in the absence of nurturance, discipline, or training. In other words, "The major 'cause' of low self-control thus appears to be ineffective child-rearing." In this theory of deviance, the seeds of aberrant behavior are sown early in the deviant's socialization experiences of his or her family. In the Analysis and Critique section in this chapter (Reading 24), LaMar T. Empey focuses on Hirschi's control theory of delinquency. Empey points out that Hirschi's theory has sparked a great deal of interest and controversy, particularly in reaction to its assumptions regarding human nature and its empirical adequacy. Hirschi's own research findings that delinquent youths are less attached to romrpn_
Control Theory
I
305
than are conforming youths appear to be tional role mo~els and .nt1°nTIS eneral theory and have been substantial. Iy consIstent WI 1 hi5 g . re1atlve th ch Hl'rschi's research has, however, gIVen nfi ed in 0 er resear . 1 d ly co rm . hether lack of attachment to schoo prece es rise to questions about. w f 1 p"atl'ons "1 the role intelligence sseSSlOn 0 ower as or follows t1le po d h· tance that attachment to peers plays .in t~Ch~O~!;oilp%~n~:f ~e~!~~ behavior. Empey sugg~sts that plays ill e e al to common-sense assumptIOns rewhile contr~l theory dhoes ~pped finite need for additional testing of arding delinquency, t ere 15 a e g .' its basic proposlhons. th st'm question with Hirschi's cont Empey e areas mo According o. '. arding the antisocial character of trol theory are his assumphol ns reg .ty to deviate. Empey asserts that fail ture and the natura propens I human na . . tuall im ossible to test empirically and s Y P cl the structural orgathis part of the theory 15 V1I .d h ortunity structures, peers, an to COnsl er ow op~ . a l ' ty un'pact on the emergence and con. . f modem mdustrl SOCIe . ruzati~n o . while control theory may be correct ID tinuation of d~vIance, ThUfS, tt chment it does not adequately consid. di tin the lffiportance 0 a a , th m ca g .. I . and demographiC forces on e 50th· et of polihca , econorruc, fb ' y Nor does ade q u a:l ublicly 1abeled a clevlant and e e b h . P h cl ulting role e aVlOr. uars attachment. to o.t ethrs aLn rCesourse" byjohn H. Laub and RobertJ. UT . g pomts ID e ife , . I urrun A lication selection for thIS c lapter. cial bond theory that emphaSampson, is the Contemporary pp Like Hirschi, these authors propose a ~o ·tments to others as a resizes the importance of ~ttachrnent~ an ~:~ receding variations of straiut on deviant behavl~. ~:er ~~f~ the imgortance of adult social control theory, ho~ever, Y . Ig 1 g ~ r Laub and Sampson, events in bonds as a restramt on deViance. o. arin or school bonding, U
LL
~~al ~:-l.a
i~
,
~e~r::i:~a~~~:~u~~~~~ :di~~
parti.cul:;ia~~ ;:~ra~~tdt~t~;:~::g ad~lt
Ind~ed,
childhood, deviance. are not the only Imp cl' 1 'Iclhoocl allowed them to deVIate h h weal· ban 5 ill Cl1 ~:~! b~~~;ht ~::k int~ the fold of conformity if, as their liv es prores~ d· th·r relationships through emp loymen an I cl that "variations in adult crime social bonds are create ill el . Th these authors conc u e marflalg~· cl bUS,childhood behavior are directly related to the strength of unexp ame y adult social bonds."
NOTE , (H ewood Ill· Dorsey Press, 1. LaMar T. Empey, Alllericall Delmquellcy om , .. 1
no"l' _
"1..,1
306
21. Waiter C. Reckless
Control1l1eory
21 A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment Theory WALTER C. RECKLESS Behavioral scientists, such as psychiatrists, psychologists, and sociologists, have had great difficulty in identifying the operation of various factors or conditions, assumed to be directly related to crime and delinquency_ It has been almost impossible to isolate and measure the influence of conditions or factors on behavior of people generally. TIle status of know.ledge about the "etiology" of crime was so bad thirty years ago that it led two behavioral scientists to conclude: "The absurdity of any attempt to draw etiological conclusions from the findings of criminological research is so patent as not to warrant further discussion."l Progress has been made in criminological research and scholarship since that time but not enough to negate the above evaluation of .Michael and Adler. In 1940 the author suggested that criminologists should abandon the search for a general theory of crime causation and look for alternative approaches which are more realistic and appropriate. 2 Dissatisfaction "vith the application of the concept of causation to criminal behavior was expressed also by L. Radzinowicz at the Second United Nations Congress on the Prevention of Crime and Treatment of Offenders, London, August 1960. It is quite likely that causation is not a valid concept to apply to human behavior such as crime and delinquency, and that a general theory of causation, which has validity for all or a large part of crime and delinquency, for various samples of offenders and nonoffenders in various environments, is even more unrealistic, in spite of heroic efforts on the part of criminologists to search for a valid general theory. The author proposes that criminologists formulate hypotheses about or explanations of delinquent and criminal behavior which do not require the concept of cause or a combination of causes. Containment theory is suggested as a substitute for causal theOlY- The following statement supplements three recently published statements of the theory.3
COMPONENTS OF EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL CONTAINMENT The assumption is that there is a containing external social structure which holds individuals in line and that there is also an internal buffer Reprinted with pemlission from Waiter C. Reckless, "A Non-Casuill Explilnation: Containment llu~orv," ExcC/"pln Crimill%l.'im. Vol1. No. 2 (lvlilT,h I Anril ,Qfi?\ nn n1-n.1
307
which protects people against deviation o~ the soc~al. and legal norms. The two containments act as a defense agamst devlatmg from the legal cl social norms, as an insulation against pressures and pulls, as a pro:-ction against demoralization and seduction. If ther~ are" causes" which lead to deviant behavior, they are negated, neutralized, rendered impotent, or are parried by the two cont~ng buffers... . In a mobile, industrialized, urban sOClety such as eXists m the Umted States and large parts of Northern and Western Europe, external containment will be found to reside principally in the family and other supportive groups in which individu~ls actively participa~e. In times past, the clan, the neighborhood, the village, the ~ast:, .the tn?e/ the. s.ect have acted as supportive external buffer~ for t~e mdrv:du~~ In addl~lOn to the family. However, containment wluch eXists for mdlvl~uals w~th in the family and other supportive groups of mo~ern urban, mdustnalized society consists of one or more of the followmg components: 1. 2. 3. 4.
a role of structure which provides scope for the individual; a set of reasonable limits and responsibilities for members; an opportunity for the individual to achieve a status; cohesion among members, including joint activity and togetherness; 5. sense of belongingness (identification with the group); 6. identification with one or more persons within the group; 7. provision for supplying alternative ways and means of satisfaction (when one or more ways are closed).
Internal containment consists of "self" components - those having to do with the strength of the self as an operating person. It is composed of: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
a favorable image of self in relation to other persons, groups, and institutions; an awareness of being an inner directed, goal oriented person; a high level of frustration tolerance; strongly internalized morals and et~ics; . well developed ego and super ego (m the sense of Fntz Red!,'! as the control and management system of behavior).
A STATEMENT OF PROBABILITY The components of the two containing systems are not causes. They .are h"H"' ... ., n ... in<;:l1btinn<: ",o-;o1ind nn;><;:<:l1rp<;: nll11<: ;Inn nl1<;hp<;, T1,pv ·wlth-
308
Control Theory
stand the pressures, pulls and pushes. When they are absent or weak, the person is likely to deviate from accepted social and legal norms, and is vulnerable for committing an unofficial (unreported) and/or official (reported) delinquency or crime. When the two containing systems are strong, the individual will not deviate from the legal and social norms and will not be an unofficial or official offender. Containment theory not only describes noncausal buffers against deviation but it also describes probability. \Nbat are the chances (probability) that official delinquency and crime (reported deviation of the legal norms) will occur or appear in an individual, with such and such assessment of his inner and outer containment. Obviously, individuals who can be classified as strong-strong (strong in external and strong in internal containment) will have a very low probability of committing crime or delinquency (becoming a legal deviant); whereas individuals who are classified as weak-weak (weak in external and weak in internal containment) will have a very high probability of committing crime and delinquency, The writer is quite prepared to admit that of the two containing buffers against deviation, the inner containment is the more important in the mobile, industrialized settings of modem society. This is because individuals in such societies spend much of their time away from the family and other supportive groups which can contain them. As a result they must rely more on their OVffi. inner strength to function competently. It is also probable that the outer is operationally more important
SCHEME 1
PROBABILITIES OF DEVIANCY IN MOBILE, INDUSTRIALIZED, URBAN SOCIETIES INNER CONTAINMENT
ExTERNAL CONTAINMENT
(put to a test in everyday living) WEAK
Medium to Moderately High Very Low Moderately Low Very High
Strong Weak SCHEME 2
STRONG
PROBABILITiES OF DEVIANCY IN LESS ADVANCED AND IN HIGHLY MANAGED SOCIETIES INNER CONTAINMENT
EXTERNAL CONTAINMENT
Strong Weak
STRONG
(probably not put to actual test) WEAK
Very Low Medium to Moderately Low Medium to Moderately High Very High
nner containing buffer in less mobile, less industrialized socith tl,"ne 'h ' fefec" t11e clan the caste the tribe, the v illage retam . 11ere t el! " etleSW .' .' . s or in the modern, intensively managed, commurust1c sOClehes. I1venes fr ' 'b d In such societies the strength of the self, away om a Clfcumscn e socialstructure, is not put to a test and we really do not know how strong it is or how well it can manage alone.
ASSESSMENT OF INDIVIDUALS 111e assumption is that individuals of various samples can b~ assessed for the strength or weakness of their outer an~ inner cont~wment by methods which are at least equal to, if not supenor to, an ordinary physical examination or the schedule of information used by life ~urance companies in computing the risk of an applicm:t. An evaluation o~ assessment of the external contairunent can be rehably made by a tramed sociologist, psychologist, or social worker: wor~ing under an.e~pert. And it should be possible for two or more mve~tigators to o?ta~.mde pendently the same rating of the extemal conta~ent of an m~1Vldual, as a result of a field investigation. [n the not too distant future, It should be possible for sociologists to develop a reliable and valid check list or a scale to measure the strength of external containment, which would help to standardize the assessments.. . Likewise an assessment ot internal contamment can be made reliably by com~etent psychiatrists, psychologists,.or sociologists. Psychologists have already validated several personality scales and some of them could be used for measuring the strength of the self. It would be no large task for research psychologists, psyc~atrists, or soc~ologists, familiar with measurement techniques, to valldate a scale which tests s:veral components of strength of seU. E:ven without.the ~d of a measu~ng instrument, psychologists, psychiatrIsts, and soc~ologtsts.could make a fairly reliable clinical evaluation of the inner contairunent, ID terms of the components listed above, through interview w~th the individual.. And two or more equally trained experts could arnve at the same assessment of the self of an individual independently, Known groups of juvenile and adult offenders be assessed accordino- to the hvo containing systems and compansons can be made with the assessments of comparable groups (for age, sex, class, religion, etc.) of known nonoffenders. Preadolescent children can be assessed, say at 12 years of age, and records of official delinquency and adult crime could be cleaTed for this experimental sample until 21 years of age. Then inner and outer containment could be related to the absence of
:an
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rh",\! no
310
Control Theory
21. Waiter C. Reckless
~~~ur),
to continuation in delinquency and crime once having begun,
ADVANTAGES IN USE OF CONTAINMENT THEORY Apartfrom the research appf f f h tinet advantages and realisti lea Ion ~ t e theory, there are several disthe first place, it applies equ~~sp:~~ ~ the ~se of conta~ent theory. In nonconformity (undetected a~d unr~:o al coru:or~ty*, t~ unofficial norms), to unofficial (unreported) a ~ r~~~ .d~v(latlOn agamst social against the legal norms (crime cl n. 0 lela reported) deviation methods can be developed t . anI delmquency). Secondly, research assessments of both contarru: Imp ement ,the theory and to make the ogists, and sociologists have c~=:~~· ~~lrd~,.psychiat:istsl PSYdlOlcomponents of outer and . y are mterests ill the various join hands in research; co:x;e~eCryon::~~e~t. They could very readily such a mutually shar d ' . a 1 Y DIm a research team with e orIentation'they Id . and verify each other's research w;rk FoCO~ very r~adily supplement good operational theory for rreatrn t' f ~ contamrnent theory is a crime and delinquency. Institutio~~ 0 r~ ;n ers and the p~evention of tercare service could seek to build ~ g ams and probation and afstruct an outer containing buffer ~! h~l~~en~th ~f ,the self and reconline. Assessments of outer and inner c . ,mg rnd~vldual offenders in ages could provide the means of earl ontamme~t m the preadolescent s dren, so that parents, school, and weItacr: : spot~g ~f vulnerable chileffort to overcome the trend toward delin u;encles nu~ht make ,special grams to reach vulnerable youth could £0 q ncy ~d cnm:, SpeCIal proinner insulation against devian 11 cus upon l~planting a stronger containments. cy as We as developmg supportive outer
l'
MIDDLE RANGE THEORY Perhaps the most realistic aspect of the h .ddl t eory, from a scholarly and research point of view, is that it is to crime or delinquency at tl a ITU e range theory. It does not apply . le ext remes It doe t 1 . delmquency which is the result f . . ~ no app y to CrIme or o overpowermo- mte al h compUlsions, the illogical propensity for inf °t.l m .f.pu~ es, suc~ as an I e grah lcation, mamas
*1 .
t lS aSsumed thilt people are very inIre u€ntl
pIe err sometimes; however th
,
. d II Y and that mOst conforming peoey are mo y (prevalently) conformists. Silm{s
iI
,
311
fugues, panics, hallucinations, paranoidal tendencies. The self as a controlling agent of the person, if it is strong enough, can cope with ordinary restlessness, ordinary disappointments, ordinary frustration, ordinary desires, but the self as specified in the inner containing buffer carlilot contain abnormally strong internal pushes. Likewise, contairunent theory does not apply to the other extreme, where begging, predatory activities, criminal pursuits are part of the prevailing way of life, such as the criminal tribes of India, the Gypsies of Europe, illegal whiskey making in the Appalachian region of the United States, families who live by begging, etc. Persons inherit these criminal pursuits socially. Their prevalence is the natural order of events, since there are no alternate or competing modes of gaining a living. What needs to be explained in such instances is failure on the part of some members of these groups to follow the mode, Opium smoking among males in certain countries of Southeast Asia, gambling among Chinese migrants before World War I, abduction of marriageable females in the Punjab of former days, use of the machete for defense of personal honor in several Latin American Countries, smuggling among coastal villagers or mountain villagers on a frontier, stealing of goats and sheep from neighboring flocks in the Near East have been prevalent enough to be considered in the same category of accepted pursuits or activities, which need no explanation in terms of deviancy. Some sociological criminologists have referred to such general pursuits and activities as "criminogenic patterns." In between the extremes of abnormal pushes and criminogenic (widely practiced) activities, is the large middle territory of delinquency and crime, which needs explanation, because it represents legal and social deviation. Conseguently, a theory such as containment theory is needed to explain deviation from the legal and social norms as well as modal conformity to these norms. One final reality aspect is also apparent in the USe and application of Containment l1leory. The microcosm reflects the macrocosm. The individual case mirrors the general formulation. In the actual research application of containment theory, each case in the various criminal or noncriminal samples must be assessed in terms of external and internal containment. It would be difficult to identify, uncover, or assess the presence or absence of the components of Lombroso's, Ferri's, Tarde's, Banger's, von Hentig's, Exner's, or Sutherland's theories in individual case records of various samples of criminal and noncriminal populations. In these instances, and many others could be mentioned, one cannot get the microcosm to reflect the macrocosm.
312
Control Theory 22. Travis Hirschi
.)J. .:t
NOTES ELEMENTS OF THE BOND 1. Jerome .Michael and Mortim J Adl C' York, 1933, p. 169. er. er, rime, Law and Social Science, New 2. 3,
4.
Walt~r C. Reckless, CrimiHal BelJavior, New York, 1940, . 255.
The first statement of "Containment Theory" is fa cl? tl th. .. of the author's textbook on . . . un ID le ud edItion 1961 Ch . ~ology, Tile enme Problem, New York, . apter 18, the second ill an article entitled "Haltth ' " hich was published mM t I ;{fi" " eone, W June 1961 DHa se ,Ir!lt. If KrllllllJO/ogie lllld Strajrcchts/'cforlll, Vol44 1961. ' pp. 1-14; the third, ill Federal Probation, Val. 25, No. 4, Decembe; Fritz Redl and David W' I meman, C lildrcll WilD Ht/fe, Chicago, 1951, pp.
74-140.
22 A Control Theory of Delinquency
TRAVIS HIRSCHI
~~:tr:~~~e~ries ~ss~e that delinquent acts result when an individtwo hi 0 SOCIety IS weak or broken. Since these theories embrace t g~y, complex concepts, the bond of the individual to society 't' no turp~smg that they have at one time or another fotmed the b ',I ~ exp anations of most forms of aberrant or unu u b ' . aSlS0
::?a~:~~:
~ et:::~~ ~f~l~~~o~~
.that control theories have describeJ units s th m n:anYfways, and that they have focused on a variety of a e pomt 0 control. l b d btegin with.a claSSification and description of the elements of the on 0 conventional society: I try t h h
~~:;a:e~:~ ~el~qu:t behavior ~~d °:awo~:;~:~~::de~:,::~~
'. urn 0 e question of specifying the unit to which th person ISlresuma~ly ~ore or less tied, and to the question of the ad~ ~~~~~~eoha~~~OhVational force built into the explanation of delin-
Reprinted from Travis Hirschi Gm e ,f 0 'I' '-,. S S oJ t mqllc/lcy (Berkeley: UniverSity of California " ,permission 0 f the author.
Press}, 1969 pp 16--34 by
ATTACHMENT
In explaining conforming behavior, sociologists justly emphasize sensitivity to the opinion of others.] Unfortunately, ... they tend to suggest that man is sensitive to the opinion of others and thus exclude sensitivity from their explanations of deviant behavior. In explaining deviant behavior, psychologists, in contrast, emphasize insensitivity to the opinion of others.3 Unfortunately, they too tend to ignore variation, and, in addition, they tend to tie sensitivity inextricably to other variables, to make it part of a syndrome or "type," and thus seriously to reduce its value as an explanatory concepl TI1e psychopath is characterized only in part by "deficient attachment to or affection for others, a failure to respond to the ordinary monvations founded in respect or regard for one's fellows";4 he is also characterized by such things as "excessive aggressiveness," "lack of superego control," and "an infantile level of response."5 Unfortunately, too, the behavior that psychopathy is used to explain often becomes part of the definition of psychopathy. As a result, in Barbara Wootton's words: "{The psychopath] is ... par excellel1ce, and without shame or qualification, the model of the circular process by which mental abnormality is inferred from anti-social behavior while anti-social behavior is explained by mental abnormality."6 The problems of diagnosis, tautology, and name-calling are avoided if the dimensions of psychopathy are treated as causally and therefore problematically interrelated, rather than as logically and therefore necessarily bound to each other. In fact, it can be argued that all of the characteristics attribu ted to the psychopath foHow from, are effects of, his lack of attachment to others. To say that to lack attachment to others is to be free from moral restraints is to use lack of attainment to explain the guiltlessness of the psychopath, the fad that he apparently has no conscience or superego. In his view, lack of attachment to others is not merely a symptom of psychopathy, it is psychopathy; lack of conscience is just another way of saying the same thing; and the violation of norms is (or may be) a consequence. For that matter, given that man is illl animal, "impulsivity" and "aggressiveness" can also be seen as natural consequences of freedom from moral restraints. However, since the view of man as endowed with natural propensities and capacities like other animals is peculiarly unpalatable to sociologists, we need not fall back on such a view to explain the amoral man's aggressiveness? The process of becoming alienated from others often involves or is based on active interpersonal conflict. ~lIrh rnnflirt rnllkl Prl.<;i\v .
314
ControJ Theory
sufficient to account [or Ihe aggressiveness of I~OSe"'h to others have been weakened, ' Sill'd 11 ' ase attachments D urkh eun many years ago: "We at
tent Ihal we are social beinrrs,'" This may be ih,~~Ot'lb ' th ' " are moraI b emgs to the extent that we have N' -I'r€ted emgs 10 th e ex' ty B atwe &OCle . ut wh at does'it mean to say that a pe101,l'l1auz dlomean h " rRl,~ e t e norms of . t norms 0 socIety? The nonus of society are by '~lhilS' liz d th " d f' Jntema e e mem bers 0 f socIety. To vlOlate a norm is Ih"h eInino h d b th th '1 ""£ nsare y e e W'S les and expectations of other people If or, 10 t tr t b tl 'h ' 'acconaryo a Qut le WIS es and expectations of other peo a. Persa d t senStlveto 'f tl " N noes no care leopmlOnofothers-thenheist '~Ih ' 'fh ' , by the norms. H e 15 ' free to deviate. Oh t at atls' I elsm~'. extent not bound Tlle essent.:e of mternalIzation of norms
4',,,,
thus lies in the attachment of the individual'tl:ClI'jSti~o s al cl Q eel or superego ev~r a vantages over the concept of inten1q!,O!ners 9 Thi . h nations of deviant behavior based on attachm lzatiQl1' F 5 VIew las f ' h ~ttt ,or one, exp awn, smce t e extent to which a person is aft Qo n t b th Q measured independently of his devianl behav,' 'ch' . Flltth0 ot letS can 1 tions 0 f'mtema J j' "Y I' ermore, c lange zation or superego are used Fo llat it ' h n' llk' '1' 1.Snotwennolan 1S more ely after dIvorce to conunit a 0 l:);;iltt.hl I dJ d such . 'd lj ''ly e tIe vorce as SUlCI e or forgery: If we explain these rnb~r f'd ' t t superego ( or'mtemal control), We are forced to s 'ClS by 0 £ eVlan t acths, cons i "h h ' tt).' te 'erenee 0 e c ence w en e got a dIvorce; and of COl. that th "I t 1 ' ha ve t 0 cone1u d e that he gets ills . conscience bayts eman ' os us 1 Q, if h Th' d' . "'«; e remarnes, we . IS j~enslOn of the bond to conventional ' ill most SOCIal control-orjented research and th sQcie . temal control" and '" dJr t tr I" f .Oh, ty ,s encountered . In ec con 0 re er to the 8 -y. p. Ivan N e's "inwe avoId the problem of explainino- chan es a..rne Y "conscience" in th b d t th b g t' element, although . 10 e on 00 ers rather than 11.) ,lOl.e b locatin the sanalIty. Attachment to others is just one as t:I:~ll:) , y g "personal controls'" 'd hi bl 1>"Ct g lt part of the per, we avOl s pro ems of to Of Alb ) R' , servations by makin U I' h' tttol ert . elSS S . g 1e re ahons Ip between ()gical ern iricalobquency problematIc rather than definitional," h"tt"CL Pd d [' '" -t~lft 'unent an e tnIrvin Pili " " g avm s ,corrurutment or "stake in COlil oily, Scott Briar and tachment, as IhelT dIscussion illustrates allho" OtIrtl'ty" b I are more C1ose1yassoCIated ' , the next'~hL su sumes awlth elemet-.tlq t1.. 1 ~lt ~ ~te terms t 1ey use () be discussed.12 I
0""t
COMMITMENT
"Of all passions, Ihat which inclineth men leasl tCl Nay, excepting some generous natures .it is the 0 btE,lqk . th ... ;Inn"'''' .. ":>,..,,,..... . . . c ___ L:J.. ___, :.. 11h,.. the laws, 15 fear.
men keep them. "13 Few would deny that men on occasion obey the rules simply from fear of the consequences. This rational component in confonnity we label commitment. What does it mean to say that a person is commltled to conformity? In Howard S, Becker's formulation it means the following:
I
j j First, the individual is in a position in which his decision with regard to j some particular line of action has consequences for other interests and activities not necessarily [directly] related to it. Second, he has placed himself in that pOSition by his own prior actions. A third element is j present though so obvious as not to be apparent: the committed person must be aware [of these other interestsJ and must recognize that his decision in this case will have ramifications beyond it. j The idea, then, is that the person invests time, energy, himself, in a j certain line of activity-say, getting an education, building up a business, acquiring a reputation for virtue. VVhen or whenever he considers j deviant behavior, he must consider the costs of this deviant behavior, the risk he runs of losing the investment he has made in conventional behavior. j If attachment to others is the sociological counterpart of the superego or conscience, commitment is the counterpart of the ego or C?ffij mon sense. To the person committed to conventional lines of action, risking one to ten years in prison for a ten-dollar holdup is stupidity, j because to the committed person the costs and risks obviously exceed ten dollars in value, (To the psychoanalyst, such an act exhibits failure to j be governed by the "reality-principal.") In the sociological control theory, it can be and is generally assumed that the decision to commit a j criminal act may well be rationally determined-that the actor's decision was not irrational given the risks and costs he faces. Of course, as Beeker points out, if the actor is capable of in some sense calculating j the costs of a line of action, he is also capable of calculational errors: ignorance and error return, in the control theory, as possible explanations j of deviant behavior. The concept of commitment a.ssumes that the organization of society j is such that the interests of most persons would be endangered if they were to engage in criminal acts. Most people, simply by the process of j living in <1.n organized society, acquire goods, reputations, prospects that they do not want to risk losing. These accumulations are society's inSurance thal Ihey will abide by the rules, Many hypotheses about the anj tecedents of delinquent behavior are based on this premise. For example, Arthur L. Stinchcombe's hypothesis that "high school rebeUion",occurs j when future status is not dearly re 1ate d to present per f ormance suggests that one is committed to conformity not only by what one has but j j j j j j 14
"15
"
,.
__ I, _____
~
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'rt- .• "
"~_I.;h"""," ~...,.-l/n
.. ""''''n; ... ;>~;,..,n''
316
22. Travis Hirschi
Control Theory
play an important role in producing conformity. The person becomes committed to a conventional line of action, and he is therefore committed to conformity. Most lines of action in a society are of course conventional. The clearest examples are educational and occupational careers. Actions thought to jeopardize one's chances in these areas are presumably avoided. Interestingly enough, even nonconventional commitments may op": era~e ,to produce co~ventional conformity. We are told, at least, that boys aspmng to careers ill the rackets or professional thievery are judged by their "honesty" and "reliability"-traits traditionally in demand among seekers of office boys.16 INVOLVEMENT
Many persons undoubtedly owe a life of virtue to a lack of opportunity to do otherwIse. Time and energy are inherently limited: "Not that I would not, if I could, be both handsome and fat and well dressed, and a great athlete, and make a million a year, be a wit, a bon vivant, and a lady killer, as well as a philosopher, a philanthropist, a statesman, warrior, and African explorer, as well as a 'tone-poet' and saint. But the thing is simply impossible."!7 The thing that William James here says he would like to be or do are all, I suppose, within the realm of conventionality, but if he were to include illicit actions he would still have to eliminate some of them as simply impossible. Involvement or engrossment in conventional activities is thus often part of a :ontrol theory. The assumption, widely shared, is that a person may be slillply too busy doing conventional things to find time to engage in deviant behavior. The person involved in conventional activities is tied to appointments, deadlines, working hours, plans, and the like, so the opportunity to commit deviant acts rarely arises. To the extent that he is engrossed in conventional activities, he cannot even think about deviant acts, let alone act out his inclinations. IS This line of reasoning is responsible for the stress placed on recreational facilities in many programs to reduce delinquency, for much of the concern with the high school dropout, and for the idea that boys should be drafted into the Army to keep them out of trouble. So obvious and persuasive is the idea that involvement in conventional activities is a major deterrent to delinquency that it was accepted even by Sutherland: "In the general area of juvenile delinquency it is probable that the most significant difference between juveniles who engage in delinquency and those who do not is that the latter are provided abundant opportunities of a conventional type for satisfying their recreational intprp<:t<: lAr'hilp t'hp f,.....-mo,. 1':11"'1- I-'h .............. ~~ ... _ .... _:....: ____
L _ _ !1!,-' __ ulQ
317
TIle view that "idle hands are the devil's workshop" has received more sophisticated treatment in recent sociological writings on delinquency. David Matza and Gresham M. Sykes, for example, suggest .that delinquents have the values of a leisure c1~ss, th~ sa~e values ascflb~d by Veblen to tlte leisure class: a search for kIc~, disdam of work, a desIre for the big score, and acceptance of aggressIve toughness as proof ~f masc u linity.20 Matza and Sykes explain delinquency by reference to this system of values, but they note that adolescents at a~,l class .level.s are "to some extent" members of a leisure class, that they move m a limbo between earlier parental domination and future integration with the social structure through the bonds of work, and marriage."Zl In th~ en?, then, the leisure of the adolescent produces a set of values, which, m turn, leads to delinquency. BELIEF
Unlike the cultural deviance theory, the control theory assumes the existence of a common value system within the society or group whose norms are being violated. If the deviant is committed to a value system different from that of conventional society, there is, within the context of the theory, nothing to explain. The question is, "Why does a man violate the rules in which he believes?" It is not, "Why do men differ in their beliefs about what constitutes good and desirable conduct?" 'The person is assumed to have been socialized (perhaps imperfectly) into the group whose rules he is violating; deviance is not a question of one group imposing its rules on the members of another group. In other words, we not only assume the deviant has believed the lules, we assume he believes the rules even as he violates them. How can a person believe it is wrong to steal at the same time he is stealing? In the strain theory, this is not a difficult problem. (In fact, the strain theory was devised specifically to deal with this question.) The motivation to deviance adduced by the strain theorist is so strong that we can well understand the deviant act even assuming the deviator believes strongly that it is wrong. 22 However, given the control theo~y' s assumptions about motivation, if both the deviant and the nondevlant believe the deviant act is wrong, how do we account for the fact that one commits it and the other does not? Control theories have talcen two approaches to this problem. In one approach, beliefs are treated as m~re. wo~?s that ~ean little. o~,not~g if the other forms of control are mIssmg. Semantic dementia, the dISsociation between rational faculties and emotional control which is said to be characteristic of the psychopath, illustrates this way of handling .•
.,
,)'IT
1
""
r_
. ' 1 ___ ~!~ __
.c ____
.t.1~_ •• ____ " .... _ .... " ... ".-11-n
318
ContTol Theory
words, drop out of the picture; since they do not differentiate between deviants and nondeviants, they are in the same class as "language" or any other characteristic common to all members of the group. Since they represent no real obstacle to the commission of delinquent acts, nothing need be said about how they are handled by those committing such acts. The control theories that do not mention beliefs (or values), and many do not, may be assumed to take this approach to the problem. The second approach argues that the deviant rationalizes his behavior so that he can at once violate the rule and maintain his belief in it. Donald R. Cressey has advanced this argument with respect to embezzlem ent,2-!- and Sykes and Matza have advanced it with respect to delinquency.::?5 In both Cressey's and Sykes and Matza's treatments, these rationalizations (Cressey calls them "verbalizations, Sykes and Matza term them "techniques of neutralization") occur prior to the commission of the deviant act. If the neutralization is successful, the person is free to commit the act(s) in question. Both in Cressey and in Sykes and Matza, the strain that prompts the effort at neutralization also provides the motive force that results in the subsequent deviant act. TIleir theories are thus, in this sense, strain theories. Neutralization is difficult to handle within the context of a theory that adheres closely to control theory assumptions, because in the control theory' there is no special motivational force to account for the neutralization. This difficulty is especially noticeable in Matza's later treatment of this topic, where the motivational component, the "will to delinquency" appears after the moral vacuum has been created by the techniques of neulTalization.26 The question thus becomes: Why neutralize? In attempting to solve a strain theory problem with control theory tools, the control theorist is thus led into a trap. He cannot answer the crucial question. The concept of neutralization aSSumes the existence of moral obstacles to the commission of deviant acts. In order plausibly to account for a deviant act, it is necessary to generate motivation to deviance that is at least equivalent in force to the resistance provided by these moral obstacles. However, if the moral obstacles are removed, neutralization and special motivation are no longer required. We therefore follow the implicit logic of control theory and remove these moral obstacles by hypothesis. Many persons do not have an altitude of respect toward the rules of society; many persons feel no moral obligation to conform regardless of personal advantage. Insofar as the values and beliefs of these persons are consistent with their feelings, and there should be a tendency toward consistency, neutralization is unnecessary; it has already occurred.
22. Travis Hirschi
319
Does this merely push the question back a step and at the same time produce conflict with the assumption of a common value system? I think not. In the first place, we do not assume, as does Cressey, that neutralization occurs in order to make a specific criminal act possibleP We do not assume, as do Sykes and Matza, that neutralization occurs to make many delinquent acts possible. We do not not assume, in other words, that the person constructs a system of rationalizations in order to justify commission of acts he waJlts to commit. We assume, in contrast, that the beliefs that free a man to commit deviant acts are ul1l1lotivated in the sense that he does not construct or adopt them in order to facilitate the attainment of illicit ends. In the second place, we do not assume, as does Matza, that "delinquents concur in the conventional assessment of delinquency."::?8 We assume, in contrast, that there is variation in the extent to which people believe they should obey the rules of society, and, furthermore, that the less a person believes he should obey the rules, the more likely he is to violate them. 29 In chronological order, then, a person's beliefs in the moral validity of norms are, for no teleological reason, weakened. The probability that he will commit delinquent acts is therefore increased. When and If he commits a delinquent act, we may justifiably use the weakness of his beliefs in explaining it, but no special motivation is required to explain either the weakness of his beliefs or perhaps, his delinquent act. The keystone of this argument is of course the assumption that there is variation in belief in the moral validity of social rules. This assumption is amenable to direct empirical test and can thus survive at least until its first confrontation with data. For the present, we must return to the idea of a common value system with which this section was begun. The idea of a common (or, perhaps better, a single) value system is consistent with the fact, or presumption, of variation in the strength of moral beliefs. We have not suggested that delinquency is based on beliefs counter to conventional morality; we have not suggested that delinquents do not believe delinquent acts are \vrong. TIley may well believe these acts are wrong, but the meaning and efficacy of such beliefs are contingent upon other beliefs and, indeed, on the strength of other ties to the conventional order. 3D
RELATIONS AMONG THE ELEMENTS In general, the more closely a person is tied to conventional society in any of these ways, the more closely he is likely to be tied in the other
320
22. Travis Hirschl
Control Theory
ways. The person who is attached to conventional people is, for example, more likely to be involved in conventional activities and to accept conventional notions of desirable conduct. Of the six possible combinations of elements, three seem particularly important and will therefore be discussed in some detail. ArrACHMENT AND COMMITMENT
It is frequently suggested that attachment and commibnent (as the terms are used here) tend to vary inversely. 11ms, according to delinquency research, one of the lower-class adolescent's "problems" is that he is unable to sever ties to parents and peers, ties that prevent him from devoting sufficient time and energy to educational and occupational aspirations. His attachments are thus seen as getting in the way of conventional commitments. 31 According to stratification research, the lower-class boy who breaks free from these attachments is more likely to be upwardly mobile?! Both research traditions thus suggest that those bound to conjor111ih} for instrumental reasons are less likely to be bound to conformity by emotional ties to conventional others. If the unattached compensate for lack of attachment by commihnent to achievement, and ~f the uncommitted make up for their lack of commitment by becommg more attached to persons, we could conclude that neither attachment nor commitment will be related to delinquency. Actually, despite the evidence apparently to the contrary, I think it safe to assume that attachment to conventional others and commitment to achievement tend to vary together. The common finding that middle-class boys are likely to choose instrumental values over those of family and friendship while the reverse is true of lower-class boys cannot, I think, be properly interpreted as meaning that middle-class boys are less attached than lower-class boys to their parents and peers. The zero-sum methodological model that produces such findings is highly likely to be misleading. 33 Also, although many of the characteristics of the upwardly mobile alluded to by Seymour M. Lipset and Reinhard Bendix could be accounted for as consequences rather than causes of mobility, a methodological critique of these studies is not necessary to conclude that we may expect to find a positive relation between attachment and commitment in the data to be presented here. The present study and the one study Lipset and Bendix cite as disagreeing with their general conclusion that the upwardly mobile come from homes in which interpersonal relations were unsatisfactory are both based on high school samples. 34 As Upset and Bendix note, such studies necessarily focus on aspirations rather than actual mobility. For the present, it Seems, WP ml1<:t .... hnnC'o h .... h •• ~~~ ~i.. • ..J: __ 1. - _."
'.'
321
ture and those based on construction or reconstruction of the familial past. Interestingly enough, the former are the least as likely to be valid as the latter. COMMITMENT AND INVOLVEMENT
Delinquent acts are events. They occur at specific points in space and time. For a delinquent act to occur, it is necessary, as is true of all events, for a series of causal chains to converge at a given moment in time. Events are difficult to predict, and specification of some of the conditions necessary for them to occur often leaves a large residue of indeterminacy. For example, to say that a boy is free of bonds to conventional society is not to say that he will necessarily commit delinquent acts; he may and he may not. All we can say with certainty is that he is more likely to commit delinquent acts than the boy strongly tied to conventional society. It is tempting to make a virtue of this defect and espollse "proba= bilistic theory," since it, and it alone, is consistent with "the facts."3, Nevertheless, this temptation should be resisted. The primary virtue of control theory is not that it relies on conditions that make delinquency possible while other theories rely on conditions that mal(e delinquency necessary. On the contrary, with respect to their logical framework, these theories are superior to control theory, and, if they were as adequate empirically as control theory, we should not hesitate to advocate their adoption in preference to control theory. But they are not as adequate, and we must therefore seek to reduce the indeterminacy within control theory. One area of possible development is with respect to the link between elements of the bond affecting the probability that one will yield to temptation and those affecting the probability that one will be exposed to temptation. The most obvious link in this connection is between educational and occupational aspirations (commitment) and involvement in conventional activities. We can attempt to show how commitment limits one's opportunities to commit delinquent acts and thus get away ~~m the assumption implicit in many control theories that such opporturuhes are simply randomly distributed through the population in question. ArrACHMENT AND BELIEF
That there is a more or less straight forward connection between attachment to others and belief in the moral validity of rules appears evident. The link we accept here and which we shall attempt to document
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It is not the obligatory character of the rule laid down by an individual that makes us respect this individual, it is the respect we feel for the individual that makes us regard as obligatory the rule he lays down. The appearance of the sense of duty in a child thus admits of the simplest explanation, namely that he receives commands from older children (in play) and from adults (in life), and that he respects older children and parents.J6
In short, "respect is the source of law."37 Insofar as the child respects (loves and fears) his parents, and adults in general, he will accept their rules. Conversely, insofar as this respect is undermined, the rules will tend to lose their obligatory character. It is assumed that belief in the obligatory character of rules will to some extent maintain its efficacy in producing confonnity even if the respect which brought it into being no longer exist. It is also assumed that attaclunent may produce conformity even in the face of beliefs favorable to nonconformity. In short, these two sources of moral behavior, although highly and complexly related, are assumed to have an independent effect that justifies their separation.
THE BOND TO WHAT? Control theorists sometimes suggest that attachment to any object outside one's self, whether it be the home town, the starry heavens, or the family dog, promotes moral behavior.38 Although it seems obvious that some objects are more important than others and that the important objects must be identified if the elements of the bond are to produce the consequences suggested by the theory, a priori rankings of the objects of attachment have proved peculiarly unsatisfactory. Durkheim, for example, concludes that the three groups to whom attacIunent is most important in producing morality are the family, the nation, and humanity. He further concludes that, of these, the nation is most important. 39 All of which, given much contemporary thinking on the virtues of patriotism,40 illustrates rather well the difficulty posed by such questions as: Which is more important in the control of delinquency, the father or the mother, the family or the school? Although delinquency theory in general has taken a stand on many questions about the relative importance of institutions (for example, that the school is more important than the family), control theory has remained decidedly eclectic, partly because each element of the bond directs attention to different institutions. For these reasons, I shall treat specification of the units of attachment as a problem in the empirical interpretation of control theory, and not attempt at this point to say whirh
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323
WHERE IS THE MOTIVATION? The most disconcerting question the control theorist faces goes something like this: "Yes, but why do they do In the good old day~, the control theorist could simply strip away the veneer ~f Clvilization and expose man's animal impulses" for all to see. !hese llTIp~lses appeared to him (and apparently to his audience) to proVIde a plaUSIble accOlmt of the motivation to crime and delinquency. His argument was not that delinquents and criminals alone are animals, but that we are all animals, and thus all naturally capable of cor:nmitting criminal acts ..It took no great study to reveal that children, chickens, a~d dogs o~caslOnaIly assault and steal from their fellow creatures; that children, c1uckens, and dogs also behave for relatively long periods in a perfectly moral manner. Of course the acts of chickens and dogs are not "assault" or "theft," and such behavior is not "moral"· it is simply the behavior of a chicken or a dog. The chicken stealing CO;11 from his neighbor knows nothing of the moral law; he does not wnnt to violate rules; he wants merely to eat corn. The dog maliciously destroying a pn~ow or felonio~sly ~ssaulting another dog is the moral equal of the chICken. No ~otlvatI?n ~o deviance is required to explain his actS. So, t~o, no specla~ m~tiva~o?- to crime within the human animal was reqmred to explam Ius crurunal acts. Times changed. It was no longer fashionable (.within sociology, at least) to refer to animal impulses. The control theonst ten~ed more and more to deemphasize the motivational component of his theory. He might refer in the beginnino- to "universal human needs," or some such, but the driving force behind crime and delinquency was rarely alluded to. At the same time, his explanations of crime and del~nquency increasingly left the reader uneasy. \tVhat, the reader asked, IS the control theorist assmning? Albert K. Cahen and James F. Short answer the question this way:
it?::
If
... il is important to point out one imp~rt~t limita~ion. of both t}'pes of theory. They [culture conflicl and SOCIal dlSor~amz~tJOn theo~lesl are both control theories in the sense thatlhey explam delinquency m terms of the absmce of effective controls. They appear, therefore, to imply a model of motivation that assumes that the impulse to delinquency is an inherent characteristic of young people and doe~ not .itscl.f need t? be explained; it is something that erl1pt~ \,.,rh~n th~!1ild- I.e., mternahzed cultural restraints or external aulhonty-IS off.
There are several possible and I think reasonable reactions .to this criticism. One reaction is simply to acknow~cdge the assumphon, to grant that one is assuming vvhat control theoflsts have always assumed
22, Travis Hirschi
324
325
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within the system in question): "There is no reason to assume that only those who finally commit a deviant act usually have the impulse to do so. It is much more likely that most people experience deviant impulses frequently. At least in fantasy, people are much more deviant than they appear.""2 There is certainly nothing wrong with making such an assumption. We are free to assume anything we wish to assume; the truth of our theory is presumably subject to empirical test."3 A second reaction, involving perhaps something of a quibble, is to defend the logic of control theory and to deny the alleged assumption. We can say the fact that control theory suggests the absence of something causes delinquency is not a proper criticism, since negative relations have as much claim to scientific acceptability as do positive relations."" We can also say that the present theory does not impute an inherent impulse to delinqllency to anyone."5 That, on the contrary, it denies the necessity of such an imputation: "The desires, and other passions of man, are in themselves no sin. No more are the actions, that proceed from those passions, till they know a law that forbids them."46 A third reaction is to accept the criticism as valid, to grant that a complete explanation of delinquency would provide the necessary impetus, and proceed to construct an explanation of motivation consistent with control theory. Briar and Piliavin provide sHuational motivation: "We assume these acts are prompted by short-tenn sihlationally induced desires experienced by all boys to obtain valued goods, to portray courage in the presence of, or be loyal to peers, to strike out at someone who is disliked or simply to 'get kicks. "'·!7 Matza, too, agrees that delinquency cannot be explained simply by removal of controls: Delinquency is only epiphenomenally action.... [It] is essentially infraction. It is rule-breaking behavior performed by juveniles aware that they are Violating the law and of the nature of their deed, and made permissible by the neutralization of infractious [!] elements. Thus, Cohen and Short are fundamentally right when they insist that social control theory is incomplete unless it proVides an impetus by which the potential for delinquency may be realized: w
tl,ey are by no means deducible from it. Furthermore, ontro I tIleorY, I' t h . cl' t built-in unusual motivation to the de mquen: e IS they rare Y Impu e . . h tin to satisfy the same desires, he IS reacting to t e same p~esattemps o~ler boys (as is clear, for example, in the previous quotation sures Ba • d Piliavin) In other words, if included, these accOllllts of from n a r a n · th " . I . ti' n would serve the same function in the theory at amma 010 ti va 0 . . . ulses" traditionally served: they might acl~ to lts persuaslv~ness P un I 'bili'ty but they would add little else, smce they do not dlfferan d p aUSl, . . entiate delinquents from nondehnquents.. en control theory remains what It has aJways been, a th d h In teen, ' . "\1\11 d 'y 0 . which deviation is not problematic. The questIon. tleoryIll I . d' d h cl' t7" is simply not the question the theory IS eSlgne to answer. • "Why don't we do it?" There is much evidence that we t ey 01 t·' The ques IOn IS, would if we dared.
NOTES Emile DurIJleim, Sllicide, trans. John A. Spaulding and George Simpson (New York: The Free Press, 1951), p. 209. . Books have been written on the increa5in~ im,P0rtance of lJlterper~o~aI 2. ·t· . ty' adern I'lEe According to tlus View, controls from wlthm senSllVl m m · . . d' have become less important than controls from Without l~ p~o llemg. conf . ty Whether or not this observation is tTue as a descnptIOn of his tor. o~e~ds it is true that interpersonal sensitivity has become more ~~portant'in e:rplaillillg conformity. AI~h?ugh logically it .should also . have become more important in explallli11g nonco~oITmty, t~e OppOSIte has been the case, once again showing that Cohe~ s observ~tion that an ex lanation of conformity should be an exp~anation of deVIance ca~ot bttranslated as "an explanation of conformlty ha~ ~o .be an expl~ahon . ce" For the view that interpersonal senstllvlty currentl) plays a o EdeVlan . . W'l!' J reater role than formerly in producing conformity, see I lam: ~ d "Norm Commitment and Conformity to Role-Status Obllgati~~S ~'A/Ilerical1 Tal/mill afSociology, LXVI (1960), 246--258. And, of , I see D-\'l'd Riesman Nathan Glazer, and Reucl Denney, Tl/C course, a so. '11 Loucfy Crowd (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1950), espeCia y
1.
The impetus1vfatza provides is a "feeling of desperation," brought on by the "mood of fatalism," "the experience of seeing one's self as effect" rather than cause. In a situation in which manliness is stressed, being pushed around leads to the mood of fatalism, which in turn produces a sense of desperation. In order to relieve his desperation, in order to cast off the mood of fatalism, the boy "makes things happen" -he commits delinquent acts:!9 There are several additional accOlU1ls of "why they do it" that are to my mmd persuasive and, at the same time generally compatible with control theory.5O But whilp ."Ill nF th",,,,,,, ............ ~ .. _L~ ---
3.
,
i~:t l~'terature on psychopathy is.voluminous. See ~iIliam MC~(Jrd and J
4.
-
Iv! Cord Tfle Psychopath (pnncelon: D, Van Nostrand, 196 J.
J~~ M~ tvlartin and Joseph P. Fitzpalrick, OelillqlltJIt Belw"uior (New York:
Random House, 1964), p. 130. M_ [bid. For additional properties of the psychopalh, see McCord and c Cord, The Psychopath, pp, 1-22. . Barbara Wootton, Social Science and Socwl PntllOlogy (New York: Macmil6.
5.
326
7.
8. 9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14. 15. 16.
liThe logical untenability [of the position that there are forces in man 'resistanl to socialization'] was ably demonstrated by Parsons over 30 years ago, and it is widely recognized that the position is empirically unsOlmd because it assumes [!] some universal biological drive system distinctly separate from socialization and social context-a basic and intransigent human nature" Gudith Blake and Kingsley Davis, "Norms, Values, and Sanctions/' Hmldbook of Modem Sociology, ed. Robert E. L. Faris [Chicago: Rand McNally, 1964], p. 471). Emile Dmkheim, lv10rnl Educatioll, trans. Everett K. Wilson and Herman Schnurer (New York The Free Press, 1961), p. 64. Although attadunent alone does not exhaust the meaning of internalization, attachments and beliefs combined would appear to leave only a small residue of "internal control" not susceptible in principle to direct measurement. F. Ivan Nye, Family Relntiollsldps and Delinquellt Behnvior (New York: Wiley, 1958), pp. 5-7. Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "Delinquency as the Failure of Personal and Social Controls," American Sociological Review, XVI (1951), 196-207. For example, "Our observations show ... that delinquent recidivists are less often persons with mature ego ideals or nondelinquent social roles" (p. 204). Scott Briar and Irving Piliavin, "Delinquency, Situational Inducements, and Commitment to Conformity," Social Problems, XIII (1965), 41-42. The concept "stake in confonnity" was inlroduced by Jackson Toby in his "Social Disorganization and Stake in Conformity: Complementary Factors in the Predatory Behavior of Hoodlums," JOl/mal a/Criminal Law, Crimillolo81j alld Police Science, XLVIII (1957), 12-17. See also his "Hoodlum or Business Man: An American Dilemma," The Jews, ed. Marshall Sklare (New York: The Free Press, 1958), pp. 542-550. Throughout the text, I occasionally use "stake in conformity" in speaking in general of the strength of the bond to conventional sociely. So used, the concept is somewhat broader than is true for eiUler Toby or Briar and Piliavin, where the concept is roughly equivalent to what is here called "commitment." Thomas Hobbes, Leviatfw/I (Oxford: Basil Blackv.rell, 1957), p. 195. Howard S. Becker, "Notes on the Concept of Commitment," American IOllrHnl of Sociolog1j, LXVI (1960), pp. 35--36. Arthur L. Stinchcombe, Rebellion ill a High School (Chicago: Quadrangle, 1964) p.5. Richard A. Cloward and Lloyd E. Ohlin, DeliHqllellctj and Opportullity (New York: The Free Press, 1960), p. 147, quoting Edwin H. Sutherland, ed., The Professio1tal Thief (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1937),
pp. 211-213. 17. 18.
19.
William James, PsycllOlogtj (Cleveland: World Publishing Co., 1948), p. 186. Few activities appear to be so engrossing that they rule out contemplation of alternative lines of behavior, at least if estimates of the amount of time men spend plotting sexual deviations have any validity. The Sutherland Papers,' ed. AJbert K. Cohen et al. (Bloomington, Indiana UniversitvPrp~".lq,l:jfil n 17
327
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20. 21.
22.
23.
24. 25.
26. 27.
28. 29.
David Matza and Gresham M. Sykes, "Juvenile Delinquency and Subterranean Values," American Sociological Review, XXVI (1961), pp. 712-719.
[bid., p. 718. . . The starving man stealing the loaf of bread IS the tmage evoked by most strain theories. In this image, the starving man's belief in the wrongness of his act is clearly not something that must be explained away. It can be assumed to be present without causing embarrassment to the explanation. McCord and McCord, The psycllOpatlJ, pp. 12-15. Donald R. Cressey, Other People's MOlley (New York: The Free Press, 1953). . . Gresham M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency," Americlln Sociological Review, XXII (1957), pp. 664-670. David Matza, Delinquell'Clj alld Drift (New York: Wiley, 1964), pp. 18~-191. In asserting that Cressey's assumption is invalid with respect ~o delinquency, I do not wish to suggest that it is invalid for u:e q~esbon o!~ bezzlement, where the problem faced by the deviator 15 fatrly speCIfIc and he can reasonably be assumed to be an upstanding citizen. (Although even here the fact that the embezzler's nonshareable financi~l problem often results from some sort of h~nky-panky .suggests that verbalizations" may be less necessary than mIght otherwise be assumed.)
DelillqllellC1j alld Drift, p. 43.
This assumption is not, I think, contradicted by the evidence present~d by Matza against the existence of a delinq~ent sub~ulture. ~ comparmg the attitudes and actions of delinquents wIth the pICture pamted by delinquent subculture theorists, ~atza empha~izes -and perha~s exaggerates- the extent to which delmquents are tied to the conventional order. In implicitly comparing delinquents with a superrnoral man, I emphasize-and perhaps exaggerate-the extent to which they are not tied to the conventional order. 30. The position taken here is therefore somewhere betvv~en the :'s~mantic dementia" and the "neutralization" positions. Assummg vanatlon, the delinquent is, at the extremes, freer than the neutralization argument assumes. Although the possibility of wide discrepancy between what the delinquent professes and what he practices still exists, it is presumably much rarer than is suggested by studies of articulate "psychopaths." 31. The idea that the middle-class boy is less closely tied than the lower-class boy to his peers has been widely adopted in the literature on delinquency. The middle-class boy's "cold and rational" relations with his peers are in sharp contrast with the "spontaneous and warm'.' relations of the lower-class boy. See, for example, Alberl K. Cohen, Ocll11quC/lt Boys (New York: The Free Press, 1955), pp. 102-109. 32. The evidence in favor of this proposition is summarized in Seymour M. Upset and Reinhard Bendix, SocinllvIobilit~~ ill Industrial Societ~ (Berkcley: University of California Press, 1959), espeCially pp. 249-259. For exam•
.. _
~.
.."
•
.'.
c"
1
328
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are characterized by an inability to fann intimate relations and are consequently often socially isolated men" (p. 251). 33. Relations between measures of attachment and commitment are examined in Chapter VllI. 34. Social Mobility, p. 253. 35. Briar and Piliavin, "Sihlational Involvements," p. 45. 36. Jean Piaget, The Moral Judgment of the Child, trans. Marjorie Gabain (New York: The Free Press, n.d.), p. 10l. 37. Ibid .• p. 379. 38. Durkheim, Moral Education, p. 83. 39. Ibid .• pp 73-79. 40. In the end, Durkheirn distinguishes between a patriotism that leads to concern for domestic problems and one lhat emphasizes foreign relations (especially that variety which puts "national sentiment in conflict with commitments of mankind"). 41. See their "Juvenile Delinquency," in Contemporan) Social Problems, ed. Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1961). p. 106. 42. Howard S. Becker, Outsiders (New York: The Free Press, 1963), p. 26. See also Kate Friedlander, The Psycho-Analytic Approach to Juvenile De1il1qllellClj (New York: International Universities Press, 1947), p.7. 43. Cf. Albert K. Cohen, Deviance and Control (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1966), pp. 59-62. 44. I have frequently heard the statement "it's an absence of something explanation" used as an apparently damning criticism of a sociological theory. While the origins of this view are unknown to me, the fact that such a statement appears to have some claim to plausibility suggests one of the sources of uneasiness in the face of control theory. 45. The popular "it's-an-id-argument" dismissal of explanations of deviant behavior assumes that the founding fathers of sociology somehow proved that the blood of man is neither wann nor red, but spiritual. The mtellectual trap springs shut on the counterassumption that innate aggressive-destructive impulses course through the veins, as it should. The solution is not to accept both views, but to accept neither. 46. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, p. 83. Given the history of the sociological response to Hobbes, it is instructive to compare Hobbes' picture of the motivation behind the deviant act with that painted by Taleott Parsons. According to Parsons, the motive to deviate is a psychological trait or need that the deviant carries with him at all times. This need is itself deviant: it cannot be satisfied by cOIifonllihj. Social controls enter merely as reality factors that determine the form and manner in which this need will be satisfied. If one path to deviant behavior is blocked, the deviant will co.ntinue se~rching until he finds a path that is open. Perhaps because this.need ~nses from interpersonal conflict, and is thus socially derived, th~ Image It.p~esents of the deviant as fundamentally immoral, as doing eVIl becallse It IS evil, has .~een largely ignored by those objecting to the control theorist's tendency to fall back on natural propensities as a
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi
329
source of the energy that results in the activities society defines as wrong. See Talcott Parsons, Thc Social System (New York: The Free Press, 1951). Chapter 7. 47. Briar and Piliavin, "Situational Inducements," p. 36. 48. DclillqllCIlCY flIld Drift, p. 182. 49. Matza warns US that we cannot take the fatalistic mood out of context and hope to find important differences between delinquents and other boys: "That the subcultural delinquent is not significantly different from other boys is precisely the point" (ibid., p. 89). 50. For example: Carl Werthman, "The Function of Social Definitions in the Development of Delinquent Careers," Juvenile Oelinque/lC1j and youth Crime, Report of the President's Commission on Law Enforcement and Adrnirtistration of Justice (Washington: U5GPO, 1967), pp. 155-170: Jackson Toby, "Affluence and Adolescent Crime," ibid., pp. 132-144; James F. Short, Jr., and Fred L. Strodtbeck, Group Process and Gallg DelillquellC1J (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965), pp. 248-264.
23 The Nature of Criminality: Low Self-Control MICHAEL R. GOTTFREDSON and TRAVIS HIRSCHI Theories of crime lead naturally to interest in the propensities of individuals committing criminal acts. These propensities are often labeled "criminality." In pure classical theory, people committing criminal acts had no special propensities. They merely followed the universal tendency to enhance their own pleasure. If they differed from noncriminals, it was with respect to their location in or comprehension of relevant sanction systems. For example, the individual cut off from the community will suffer less than others from the ostracism that follows crime; the individual unaware of the nahrral or legal consequences of criminal behavior cannot be controlled by these consequences to the degree that people aware of them are controlled; the atheist will not be as concerned as the believer about penalties to be exacted in a life beyond death. Classical theories on the whole, then, are today called control theories, theories emphasizing the prevention of crime through consequences painful
to the individual. Although, for policy purposes, classical theorists emphasize legal consequences, the importance to them of moral sanctions is so obvious that their theories might well be called underdeveloped social control theories. In fact, Bentham's list of the major restraining motivesReprinted from A Genernl Theory ojCl"ime by lvlichael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi with the pennission of the publishers, Stanford University Press. © 1990 by the Board of Trustees of thf' I.p];mrl C;~;Jnfnrrl TI1ninr TInh''''r~;t''
330
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motives acting to prevent mischievous acts-begins with goodwill, love of reputation, and the desire for amity (1970: 134-36). He goes on to say that fear of detection prevents crime in large part because of detection's consequences for "reputation, and the desire for amity" (p. 138). Put another way;. in Bentham's view, the restraining power of legal sanctions in large part stems from their connection to social sanctions If crime is evidence of the weakness of social motives, it follows that criminals are less sodal than noncriminals and that the extent of their asociality may be determined by the nature and number of their crimes. Calculations of the extent of an individual's mischievousness is a complex affair, but in general the more mischievous or depraved U1e offenses, and the greater their number, the more mischievous Or depraved the offender (Bentham 1970: 134-42). (Classical theorists thus had reason to be interested in the seriousness of the offense. The relevance of seriousness to current theories of crime is not so clear.) Because classical or control theories infer that offenders are not restrained by social motives, it is common to think of them as emphasizing an asocial human nature. Actually, such theories make people only as asocial as their acts require. Pure or consistent control theories do not add criminality (i.e" personality concepts or attributes such as "aggressiveness" or "extraversion") to individuals beyond that found in their criminal acts, As a result, control theories are suspicious of images of an antisocial, psychopathic, or career offender, or of an offender whose motives to crime are somehow larger than those given in the crimes themselves. Indeed, control theories are compatible with the view that the balance of the total control structure favors conformity, even among offenders: For in every man, be his disposition ever so depraved, the social motives are those which., ,regulate and determine the general tenor of his life.... The general and standing bias of every man's nature is, therefore, towards that side to which the force of the social motives would determine him to adhere. This being the case, the force of the social motives tends continually to put an end to that of the dissocial ones; as, in nalural bodies, the force of friction tends to put an end to that which is generated by impulse. Time, then, which wears away the force of the dissocial motives, adds to that of the sociaL [Bentham 1970: 1411
Positivism brought with it the idea that criminals differ from noncriminals in ways more radical than this, the idea that criminals carry within themselves properties peculiarly and positively conducive to crime. [Previously] we examined the efforts of the major disciplines to identify these properties. Being friendly to both the classical and positivist traditions, we eX1'ected to end up with a list of individual properMo" 1'01;"h1.r irlonMharl h" .... nrnnatant To"a" ...... h "" 'lI"ah,1 -in th", rla",..,"";ntlnn
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi
331
of "criminality"- such properties as aggressiveness, body build, activity level, and intelligence. We further expected that we would be able to connect these individual-level correlates of criminality directly to the classical idea of crime. As our review progressed, however, we were forced to conclude that we had overestimated the success of positivism in establishing important differences between "criminals" and "noncriminals" beyond their tendency to commit criminal acts. Stable individual differences in the tendency to commit criminal acts were clearly evident, but many or even most of the other differences between offenders and nonoffenders were not as clear or pronounced as our reading of the literature had led us to expect. 1 If individual differences in the tendency to commit criminal acts (within an overall tendency for crime to decline with age) are at least potentially explicable within classical theory by reference to the social 10cation of individuals and their comprehension of how the world works, the fact remains that classical theory cannot shed much light on the positivistic finding (denied by most positivistic theories ... ) that these differences remain reasonably stable witlz change in the social location of individuals and cIJange ill their knowledge of tlte operation DJ sanction systems. This is the problem of self-control, the differential tendency of people to avoid criminal acts whatever the circumstances in which they find themselves. Since this difference among people has attracted a variety of names, we begin by arguing the merits of the concept of self-control.
SELF.CONTROL AND ALTERNATIVE CONCEPTS Our decision to ascribe stable individual differences in criminal behavior to self-control was made only after considering several alternatives, one of which (criminality) we had used before (Hirschi and Gottfredson 1986). Amajor consideration was consistency between the classical conception of crime and our conception of the criminaL It seemed unwise to try to integrate a choice theory of crime with a deterministic image of the offender, especially when such integration was unnecessary. In fact, the compatibility of the classical view of crime and the idea that people differ in self-control is, in our view, remarkable. As we have seen, classical theory is a theory of social or external control, a theory based on the idea that the costs of crime depend on the individual's current location in or bond to society. What classical theory lacks is an explicit idea of self-control, the idea that people also differ in the extent to which they are vulnerable to the temptations of the moment. Combining the two ideas thus merely recognizes the simultaneous existence of social and mdivirlllCll rpstrr>ints on hehavior.
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An obvious alternative is the concept of criminality. The disadvan_ t~ges of that concept, however, are numerous. First, it connotes caUSa_ tIon or ~eterminism, a fositive tendency to crime that is contrary to the classIcal model and, In our view, contrary to the facts. "Whereas selfcon~rol suggests that people differ in the extent to which they are resh'amed Iron: criminal acts, criminality suggests that people differ in the :,xtent to WI:lCh they are compelled to crime. The concept of setf-control 15 thus :onslstent with the observation that criminals do not require or need c.nme, and the concept of criminality is inconsistent with this obse:vatlOn. By the ~ame toke~, t~e idea of low self-control is compatible wIth the obse:vat~on that cnmmal acts require no special capabilities, needs, or mot~vatlOn; they are, in this sense, available to everyone. In co.nt:ast, the Idea of criminality as a special tendency suggests that cruruna! acts require speCial people for their performance and enjoy~ent. FIr:all!, lack of. r~straint or low self-control allows almost any deVIant, cnmmal, eXCItmg, or dangerous act; in contrast, the idea of criminalit?' COVers only a narrow portion of the apparently diverse acts engaged m by people at one end of the dimension we are new discussing.
The con~ept of cons~ience comes closer than criminality to selfcontrol, and l~ harder to dIsti~guish from it. Unfortunately, that concept has ~onnota~ons of ~ompulslOn (to conformity) not, strictly speaking, conSIstent WIth a chOIce model (or with the operation of conscience). It does not seem to cover the behaviors analogous to crime that appear to be controlled by nahlral sanctions rather than social or moral sanctions and in the end it typically refers to how people feel about their act; rather than to the likelihood that they will or will not commit them. Thus accide~ts and emplorment instability are not usually seen as produced by faIlures of conSCIence, and writers in the conscience tradition do r:ot lJTically make the connection between moral and prudent behavlOr. Fmally, conscience is used primarily to summarize the results of learrrn:g via negati~e reinforcement, and even those favorably disp~sed to Its use have little more to say about it (see, e.g., Eysenck 1977; Wllson and Hermstein 1985). We are now in position to describe the nature of self-control the individual characteristic relevant to the commission of criminal ;cts. We aSSume that the. n~hlre of this characteristic can be derived directly from the nature of cnnunal acts. We tl1uS infer from the nature of crime what peopl~ who. refrain from criminal acts are like before they reach the age at whIch cnme becomes a lOgical possibility. We then work back further to the factors producing their restraint, back to the causes of selfcontrol. In OUT view, lack of self-control does not require crime and can be counteracted by situational conditions nr nthpr nmT"lort';oc ,.,.~ J-h ...
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. d· .dual. At the same time, we suggest that high self-control effecd · ·t ill b tively reduces the possibility of c~e-th~t is, u10se po:sess~~ I w e substantially less likely at all penods of life to engage ID cnmmal acts. Ul IVl
THE ELEMENTS OF SELF.CONTROL Criminal acts provide immediate gratification of desires. A major characteristic of people with low self-control is theref~re a tendency to reand to tangible stimuli in the immediate envlronment, to have a ~~ncrete "here and now" orientation. People with high self-control, in contrast, tend to defer gratification. . Criminal acts provide easy or silllple gratification of deslres. They provide money without work, sex without courtship, revenge.,:ithout court delays. People lacking self-control also tend to lack dIlIgence, tenacity, or persistence in a course of action. Criminal acts are exciting, risky, or thrilling. They involve stealth, danger, speed, agility, deception, or power. People lac~g self-cont:0l therefore tend to be adventuresome, active, and phYSIcal. Those WIth high levels of self-control tend to be cautious, cognitive, and verbal. . Crimes provide few or 11leager long-term benefits. 111ey are n~t eqUiValent to a job or a career. On the contrary, crimes interfere WIth lo~g term commitments to jobs, marriages, family, or friends. People WIth low self-control thus tend to have unstable marriages, friendships, and job profiles. They tend to be little interested in and unprepared for longterm occupational pursuits. Crimes require little skill or plan1ling. The cognitive requirements for most crUnes are minimal. It follows that people lacking self-control need not possess or value cognitive or academic skills. The manual ~kills required for most crimes are minimal. It follows that people lacl~g selfcontrol need not possess manual skills that reqUlre trammg or apprenticeship. . . . . Crimes often result in pai/l or discomfort Jor the VIctIm. Property IS lost, bodies are injured, privacy is violated, trust is broken. It follows that people with low self-control tend to be self-centered, indifferent, or insensitive to the suffering and needs of others. It does not follow, however, that people with low self-control are routinely unkind or antisocial. On the contrary, they may discover the immediate and easy rewards of charm and generosity. Recall that crime involves the pursuit of immediate pleasure. It follows that people lacking self-control will also tend to pursue immediate pleasures that are /lot criminal: they will tend to smo~e,. d~k, use drugs, ~ __ l-.1~ I~_ ..... ...,1~;I.4 ...",., , .. ,,~,.,~ ",..,.-I1 .... ,...J,.
'::Inrl ono-::>CTO 1n ,[j,rd' ':;OY
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Crimes require the interaction of an offender with people or their property. It does not follow that people lacking self-control will tend to be gregarious or social. However, it does follow that, other things being equal, gregarious or social people are more likely to be involved in criminal acts. The major benefit of many crimes is not pleasure but relief from momentary irritation. The irritation caused by a crying child is often the stimulus for physical abuse. That caused by a taunting stranger in a bar is often the stimulus for aggravated assault. It follows that people with low self-control tend to have minimal tolerance for frustration and little ability to respond to conflict through verbal rather than physical means. Crimes involve the risk of violence and physical injury, of pain and suffering on the part of the offender. It does not follow that people with low self-control will tend to be tolerant of physical pain or to be indifferent to physical discomfort. It does follow that people tolerant of physical pain or indifferent to physical discomfort will be more likely to engage in criminal acts whatever their level of self-control. The risk of criminal penalty for any given criminal act is small, but this depends in part on the circumstances of the offense. Thus, for example, not all joyrides by teenagers are equally likely to result in arrest A car stolen from a neighbor and returned unharmed before he notices its absence is less likely to result in official notice than is a car stolen from a shopping center parking lot and abandoned at the convenience of the offender. Drinking alcohol stolen from parents and consumed in the family garage is less likely to receive official notice than drinking in the parking lot outside a concert hall. It follows that offenses differ in their validity as measures of self-control: those offenses with large risk of public awareness are better measures than those with little risk. In sum, people who lack self-control will tend to be impulsive, insensitive, physical (as opposed to mental), risk-taking, short-sighted, and nonverbal, and they will tend therefore to engage in criminal and analogous acts. Since these traits can be identified prior to the age of responsibility for crime, since there is considerable tendency for these traits to come together in the same people, and since the traits tend to persist through life, it seems reasonable to consider them as comprising a stable construct useful in the explanation of crime.
THE MANY MANIFESTATIONS OF LOW SELF.CONTROL Our image of the "offender" suggests that crime is not an automatic or necessary conseauence of low self-controL It swnzests thOlt m
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criminal acts analogous to crime (such as accidents, smoking, and alcohol use) are also manifestations of low self-control. Our image therefore implies that no specific act, type of crime, or form of deviance is uniquely required by the absence of self-control. . Because both crime and analogous behavlOrs stem from low selfcontrol (that is, both are manifestations of low self-control), they will all be eno-ao-ed in at a relatively high rate by people with low self controL Within thee> domain of the crime, then, there will be much versatility among offenders in the criminal acts in which they engage. . Research on the versatility of deviant acts supports these predICtions in the strongest possible way. TIle variety of manifestations of low self-control is immense. In spite of years of tireless research motivated by a belief in specialization, no credible evidence of specialization has bI~en reported. In fact, the evidence of offender :e~satility is ~verwhelnung (Hirschi 1969; Hindelang 1971: Woligang, Flgho, and Sellin 1972; Petersilia 1980; Hindelang, Hirschi, and Weis 1981; Rojek and Erikson 1982; Klein 1984). By versatility we mean that offenders commit a wide variety of criminal acts, with no strong inclination to pursue a specific criminal act or a pattern of criminal acts to the exclusion of others. Most theories suggest that offenders tend to specialize, whereby such terms as robber, burglar, drug dealer, rapist, and murderer have predictive or descriptive import. In fact, some theories create offender specialization ~5 part of their explanation of crime. For example, Cloward and Ohhn (1960) create distinctive subcultures of delinquency around particular forms of criminal behavior, identifying subcultures specializing in theft, Violence, or drugs. In a related way; books are written about white-collar crime as though it were a clearly distinct specialty requiring a unique explanation. Research projects are undertaken for the study of ~rug use, or vandalism, or teen pregnancy (as though every study of dellnquency were not a study of drug use and vandalism and teenage sexual behavior). Entire schools of criminology emerge to pursue patterning, sequencing, progression, escalation, onset, persistence, and desistance in the career of offenses or offenders. These efforts survive largely because their proponents fail to consider or acknowledge the clear evidence ~o the contrary. Other reasons for survival of such ideas may be found In the interest of politicians and members of the law enforcement community who see policy potential in criminal careers or "career criminals" (see, e.G., Blumstein et al. 1986). Oc~asional reports of specialization seem to contradict this point, as do everyday observations of repetitive misbehavior by particular offenders. Some offenders rob the same store repeatedly over a period of u ........." .... ,..~,., ..... -1+0,.,..-10 .. "'nrnn'>itQ CPUP ..;ll T;lnoC: nu,::." ~ /'hrj,::.t\ nprinn nf limp.
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Such offenders may be called "robbers" or "rapists." However, it should be noted that such labels are retrospective rather than predictive and that. they typically ignore a large amount of delinquent or criminal beh.avlOf by the same offenders that is inconsistent with their alleged speclaIty..Thus, f~r example, the "rapist" will tend also to use drugs, to cornnut robberIes and burglaries (often in concert with the rape), and to have a record for violent offens€s other than rape. There is a perhaps natural tendency on the part of observers (and in official accounts) to focus on the most serious crimes in a series of events, but this tendency should not be confused with a tendency on the part of the offender to specialize in one kind of crime. Recall that one of the defining features of crime is that it is simple and easy. Some apparent specialization will therefore Occur because obvious opportunities for an easy score will tend to repeat themselves. An o~fender. who lives next to a shopping area that is approached by pedestrIans .will.have repeat opportunities for purse snatching, and this may s~ow ID hIS ar~est record. But even here the specific "criminal career" will tend to qlllckly run its course and to be followed by offenses whose conten~ and c~ara~ter is likewise determined by convenience and opportunity (which 1S the reason why some form of theft is always the best bet about what a person is likely to do next). The e~idence that offenders are likely to engage in noncrirninal acts psyc~ologIcally or theoretically equivalent to crime is, because of the relatively high rates of these "noncrirninal" acts, even easier to docu~ent. Thieves are likely t~ smoke, drink, and slap school at considerably hIgher rates than nont~eves. Off~nders are considerably more likely than nonoff~nders to be Involved ID most types of accidents, including hOlls.ehold fIfes, auto crashes, and unwanted pregnancies. They are also conSIderably more likely to die at an early age (see, e.g., Robins 1966; Eysenck 1977; Gottfredson 1984). Good research on drug use and abuse routinely reveals that the correlates of delinquency and drug use are the same. As Akers (1984) has noted, "comI?ared to.the abstaining teenager, the drinking, smoking, and drug-taking teen 1S much more likely to be getting into fights, stealmg, hurting other people, and committing other delinquencies." Akers goes on. to say, "bu~ the v~iation in th~ order in which they take up these ~mgs lea-:es little basl~ for proposmg the causation of one by the other. In our VIew, the relation between drug use and delinquency is not. a causal question. The correlates are the same because drug use and delmquency ar~ both ~anifestations of an underlying tendency to pursue short-term, unmediate pleasure. 1his underlying tendency (i.e., lack of self-control) has many manifestations, as listed by Harrison Gough (1948):
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unconcern over the rights and privileges of others when re~ogniz~g them would interfere with personal satisfaction in any way; lffiI?ulslve behavior, or apparent incongruity between the .s~l?th of the stimulus and the magnitude of the behavioral response; IDab~ty. to. form deep or persistent attachments to other persons ?r t? iden?£y ID mt~rperson~ relationships; poor judgment and plaruung ID ~ttammg ~efined goals, apparent lack of anxiety and dist:ess over s~aal maladjustment .and unwillingness or inability to conSIder maladjustment qua maladJustment; a tendency to project blame onto o~er~ and to take no respo.nsibility for failures; meaningless .pre~ar.lcat~on, often about tnvIal matters in situations where detection IS mevltable; almo~t ~?mplete lack of dependability ... and willingness to assume responsIbility; and, finally, emotional poverty. [po 362]
This combination of characteristics has been revealed in the life histories of the subjects in the famous studies by Lee Robins. Robins is one of the few researchers to focus on the varieties of deviance and the way they tend to go together in the lives of those she designates as havn:g "antisocial personalities." In her words: "We refer to someone who fails to maintain close personal relationships with anyone ~lse, [who] performs poorly on the job, who is involved in illegal behavIOrs (whether or not apprehended), who fails to support himself and his dependents without outside aid, and who is given to sudden changes of plan and loss of temper in response to what appear to others as minor frustrations" (1978: 255). . . For 30 years Robins traced 524 children referred to a gwdance clmic in St. Louis, Ivlissouri, and she compared them to a control group matched on IQ, age, sex, and area of the city. She discovered that, in comparison to the control group, those people r.eferre~ at an early age were more likely to be arrested as adults (for a WIde varlety of offenses), were less likely to get married, were more likely to be divorced, ~ere more likely to marry a spouse with a behavior problem, were less likely to have children (but if they had children w~re likely ~o have more children), were more likely to have children WIth behavlOr problems, were more likely to be unemployed, had considerably more frequ~nt job changes, were more likely to be on welfare, had fewer contacts WIth relatives, had fewer friends, were substantially less likely to attend church, were less likely to serve in the armed forces and m~re likely to be dishonorably discharged if they did serve, were more hkel~ to exhibit physical evidence of excessive alcohol usc, and were more lIkely to be hospitalized for psychiatric problems (1966: 42-73). Note that these outcomes are consistent with four general elements of our notion of low self-control: basic stability of individual differences over a long period of tin:e; great v~riability.in the l~inds of cr.imin~l acts
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crirnin~l acts; and inability to predict the specific forms of deviance e _
ga~ed ~f whether .cr~al or noncriminal. In our view, the idea of ~
ant~?~la~ personality defined by certain behavioraI consequences is too POSltiVlShc or deterministic, suggesting that the offender must do certa' thi~gs gi:ven his ~tisocial personality. Thus we would say only that th~ ~ub!ects ID question are more likely to commit criminal acts (as the data mdlcat~ ~.ey are), ~e cl? not make commission of criminal acts part of the definition of the mdIvidual with low self-control. . Be t~s as it may, Robins's retrospective research shows that predic~ons der~ved from a concept of antisocial personality are highly ConSIstent WIth the results of prospective longitudinal and cross~sectional research: offenders do not specialize; they tend to be involved in accidents, illness, and ~e.ath at higher rates than the general popUlation; they tend to have difficulty persisting in a job regardless of the particular characterIstics of the Job (no job will turn out to be a good job); they have difficulty acqutrmg and retaining friends; and they have difficulty meetmg the demands of long-term financial commitments (such as mortgage~ or car payments) and the demands of parenting. Seen ID this light, the "costs" of low self-control for the individual ~ay far exceed the costs of his criminal acts. In fad, it appears that crime IS often among the least serious consequences of a lack of self-control in terms of the quality of life of those lacking it.
THE CAUSES OF SELF.CONTROL We know better wh~t d~ficiencies in self-control lead to than where they come from ..O~e thing IS, however, clear; low self-control is not produced by trammg, tutelage, or socialization. As a matter of fact all of the ~aracteristics associated with low self-control tend to show themselves m the ~bs.ence of nurturance, discipline, or training. Given the classical apprecIatio~ of the causes of human behavior, the implications of this fact are s~illghtforward: the causes of low self-control are negative rather th~n pOSItive; self-control is unlikely in the absence of effort, intended or uruntended, to create it. (This assumption separates the present theory from most modem theories of crime, where the offender is automalically seen as a produc~?f positive forces, a·creahrre of learning, particular pressures, or specifIC defect. We will return to this comparison once our theory has been fully explicated.) . At this ~oint it would be easy to construct a theory of crime causa~on, accordmg to which characteristics of potential offenders lead them melucta~ly to the c~rrun~ssion o~ criminal acts. Our task at this point would SImply be to Identifv the hh.lv <:nllrrp<;: nf ;rn ........ I,..,;TO~ ____ !._, .".
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nee risk-taking, and the like. But to do so would be to follow the path ge , th dill hi h tha t has proven so unproductive in the past, the pa ~c~or g to w . c criminals commit crimes irrespective of the charadenstics of the setting or situation. We can avoid this pitfall by recalling the elements inherent in the decision to commit a criminal act. The object of the offense is clearly pleasurable, and universally so. Engaging in the act, however, entails some risk of social, legal, and/ or natural sanctions. Whereas the pleasure attained by the act is direct, obvious and immediate, the pains risked byit are not obvious, or direct, and are in any event at greater remove from It. It follows that, though there will be little variability among people in their ability to see the pleasures of crime, there will be considerable variability in their ability to calculate potential pains. But the problem goes further than this: whereas the pleasures of crime are reasonably equally distributed over the population, this is not true for the pains. Everyone appreciates money; not everyone dreads parental anger or disappointment upon learning that the money was stolen. . So, the dimensions of self-control are, in our view, factors affectmg calculation of the consequences of one's acts. The impulsive.or shortsighted person fails to consider the negative or painful consequences of his acts; the insensitive person has fewer negative consequences to consider; the less intelligent person also has fewer negative consequences to consider (has less to lose). No known social group, whether criminal or noncriminal, actively or purposefully attempts to reduce the self-control of its members. Social life is not enhanced by low self-control and its consequences. On the contrary, the exhibition of these tendencies undermines harmonious group relations and the ability to achieve collective ends. ~e~e f~cts explicitly deny that a tendency to crime is a product of socIalIzahon, culture, or positive learning of any sort. The traits composing low self-control are also not conducive to the achievement of long-term individual goals. On the contrary, they impede educational and occupational achievement, destroy interpersonal relations, and undermine physical health and economic well-being. Such facts explicitly deny the notion that criminality is an alternative route to the goals otherwise obtainable through legitimate avenues. It follows that people who care about the interpersonal skill, educational and occupational achievement, and physical and economic well-being of those in their care will seek to rid them of these traits. Two general sources of variation are immediately apparent in t~is scheme. The first is the variation among children in the degree to wluch they manifest such traits to begin with. The second is the variation _ ..• _ •• _
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and its consequences and the degree to which they are willing and able to correct it. Obviously, therefore, even at this threshold level the sources of low self-control are complex. There is good evidence that some of the traits predicting subsequent involvement in crime appear as early as they can be reliably measured, including low intelligence, high activity level, physical strength, and adventuresomeness (Glued~ and Glueck 1950; West and Farrington 1973). The evidence suggests that the connection between these traits and commission of criminal acts ranges from weak to moderate. Obviously, we do not suggest that people are born criminals, inherit a gene for criminality, or anything of the sort. In fact, we explicitly deny such notions .... What we do suggest is that individual differences may have an impact on the prospects for effective socialization (or adequate control). Effective socialization is, however, always possible whatever the configuration of individual traits. Other traits affecting crime appear later and,seem to be largely products of ineffective or incomplete socialization. For example, differences in impulsivity and insensitivity become noticeable later in childhood when they are no longer common to all children, The ability and willingness to delay immediate gratification for some larger purpose may therefore be assumed to be a consequence of training. Much parental action is in fact geared toward suppression of impulsive behaviof, toward making the child consider the long-range consequences of acts. Consistent sensitivity to the needs and feelings of others may also be assumed to be a consequence of training. Indeed, much parental behavior is directed toward teaching the child about the rights and feelings of others, and of how these rights and feelings ought to constrain the child's behavior. All of these paints focus our attention on childrearing.
CHILD. REARING AND SELF·CONTROL: THE FAMILY The major" cause" of low self-control thus appears to be ineffective child-rearing. Put in positive terms, several conditions appear necessary to produce a socialized child, Perhaps the place to begin looking for these conditions is the research literature on the relation between family conditions and delinquency. This research (e.g., Glueck and Glueck 1950; McCord and McCord 1959) has examined the connection between many family factors and delinquency. It reports that discipline, supervision, and affection tend to be missing in the homes of delinquents, that the behavior of the parents is often "poor" (e,g" excessive drinking
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d or supervision [Glueck and Glueck 1950: 110-11]); and that the an pat f delm' quents are unusually likely to have criminal records paren s o , 'Gill "f ed according to Ivlichael Rutter and Henn er, 0 Inde t1lernseIv e s., ... . . li . th arental characteristics assocIated WIth delinquency, crmuna ty IS th: ~ost strikIDg and most consistent" 1984: 182)" ' Such information undermines the many explanations of cnme that , th famiIv but in this form it does not represent much of an adlonore e P d I 'th f o o~er the belief of the general public (and those who ea ':1 0vance "d f · b . " or fenders in the criminal justice system) that e. echve up rmgmg e "neulect" in the home is the primary cause of cnm . . .. °To put these standard research findings in perspective, e tlu~ It the conditions necessary for adequate child-reanng necess ary to define . h th e minimum conditions seem to be these: ID order to teac e Th to occur, hiId' b h ' '(2) child self-control, someone must (1) monitor the c . s e aVlOr, recognize deviant behavior when it occurs; and (3) p~rush s.uch beha~ ior. This seems simple and obvious enough. AI.l that 15 r.eqUlred to activate the system is affection for or investme~t m the. child: The person who cares for the child will watch his behavlOr, see ~ domg things he should not do, and correct him. The result may be a cluld more c~pable of delaying gratification, more sensitive to the interests ~nd desu:es of others, more independent, more willing to accept restr~mt~ on his activity, and more unlikely to use force or violence to attarn his end~. When we seek the causes of low self-control, we ask where this system can go wrong. Obviously, parents do not prefer their childre~ to be , Il'zed m· the terms described. We can therefore rule out m adunsOCta 'li d b h ' vance the possibility of positive socializa~on to unsoCIa . ze e aVlOr (as cultural or subcultural deviance theones suggest). Still, the system can go wrong at anyone of four places. First, the parents may not care for the child (in which case none of the other conditions ~ould be met); second, the parents, even if they care, may not have the. time or energy to monitor the child's behavior; third, the parents, even If they c~e and monitor, may not see anything wrong with the child's behavlOri.fin~y, even if everything else is in place, the parents may not have the mcl~a tion or the means to punish the child. So, what ma~ appear at hrst glance to be nonproblematic turns out to be proble~atic. mdeed. M~y things can go wrong. According to much research m ~nme and delmuency, in the homes of problem children many thlI~_gS have gone ~ong: "Parents of stealers do not track ([they] do not mter~;et steal, as deviant'}' they do not punish; and they do not care (Patter:~' i'980: 81l-
:v
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343
24. LaMar T. Empey
NOTE 1.
We do not mean to imply th t t hI ' d' , f cl cl a 5 a em IVldual differences between f en ers an nonof!ende.IS are nonexistent. The fact of the rna tt . 0 ever, that substantial eVIdence documenting individual cliff er IS, ~ow es as clear t~ us as it appears to be to others. The evidence on 15 n~t
::li.
~n e~ce:hon. Here differences favoring nonoffenders have been !:::..e 15 an y ocumented (cl. Wilson and Hennstein 1985).
-
Patterson, Gerald R. 1980. "Children Who SteaL" In U1Jderstalldil1g Crime, edited by T. Hirschi and M. Gottfredson (pp. 73-90). Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage. Pelersilia, Joan. 1980. "Criminal Career Research: A Review of Recent Evidence." In Crime alld Justice: An Anllual Review of Research, vol. 2, edited by M. Tonry and N. Morris (pp. 321-79). Chicago: Universily of Chicago Press. Robins, Lee. 1966. Oevhlllt Childrell Grown Up. Baltimore: Williarns and Wilkins, Rojek, Dean, and Maynard Erickson. 1982. "Delinquent Careers." Criminology, 20: 5-28,
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West, Donald, and David Farrington. 1973. WllD Becomes Delillquent? London: Heinemann.
Akers, Ronald L 1984. "Delinquent Behavi D Relationship?" T! d 'D /' or, rugs, and Alcohol: What Is the . 0 ay 5 e mqllent, 3: 19-47.
___ .1977. The DelillqllC1lt Way afLife. London: Heinemann.
B~tlg~~r;.JereLmy.d1970 [17891. All Introduction to the Principles of Morals and
Wilson, James Q., and Richard Hermstein. 1985. Crime alld Hlll1la/l Nature. New York: Simon and Schuster.
n 1011. on ou- The Athlone Press. BIurns tem, ' AIfr ed, Jacqueline Cahen Jeffery Roth and 0 . Criminal Careers and "Career Crimi,;als "W: bin D lruty v.-lSher. 1986. my Press. . as gton, .c.: Naoonal AcadeI
Wolfgang, Marvin, Robert Figlio, and Thorsten Sellin. 1972. DclillqlJellcy ill a Birth Cohort. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Cloward, Richard and Lloyd QllIin 1960 ' York: The Free Press. ' . Del11lqllency and Opportllllity. New Eysenck, Hans. 1977. Crime and Persollality. Rev. ed. London: Paladin. Glueck, Sheldon, and Eleanor Gl k 1 . Cambridge Mas . H d u.ec .. 950. Unmvelmg Juvenile Delinquency. , B.. arvar UruversIty Press. Gottfredson Micha 1 198.1 v,' t' . HMSO.' e. _. IC lIIlS of CrIme: The Dimensiolls of Risk. London:
Analysis and Critique 24 Social Control Theory
Gough, Harrison G 1948. 'lA SOciological Theo of Ps ch " . Jmmlal DJ Soci%gJj, 53: 359-66. ry Y opathy. Amencflll
The publication of Hirschi's control theory in 1969 was valuable because
Hindelang, Michael J. 1971. "Age, Sex, and the Versatility of D lin volvements." Social Problems, 18: 522-35. e quent InHindelang, MichaeJ, Travis Hirschi and Jose h \Ni . queney. Beverly Hills CaI'f' S ' P eIS. 1981. Measuring Delill, 1 .. age.
HirpSchi, Travis. 1969. Catlses oJ DelinquellC1j- Berkeley' University of Calli ress.
.
LAMAR T. EMPEY
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- - . 1986. "The Distinction Between Crime and C' . ' " .. and Expl~lIatioll: Essays iu HOllor oJGwymle NettIer. e=tyT : ~ntlqlle and R. Silvennan (pp 55--69) N B " Y , , artnagel . ' . ew runswlck, N.J.: Transaction. Kle~'1;;alc?~. 1984. "Offense Specialization and Versatility Amon J rules. Bntlsh Jotlmal oJCriminology, 24: 185-94. g uve-
it helped to rectify a striking anomaly in academic criminology: the tendency to downgrade the importance of intrafamily relationships. Although a host of social scientists in other disciplines had long felt that these relationships were vital in determining the course of child development, criminologists had argued, for almost half a century, that they were relatively unimportant when compared to socioeconomic, racial, and subcultural factors. They contended that delinquency results not from the way families are organized, but from the way society is structured. Indeed, when considering the most serious problem of all-Iowerclass male delinquency-intrafamily relationships are of little
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importance. Instead, no less than the delinquent boys who are me _ b~rs of them, families are but pawns in the larger scheme of human :_ faIrs. Follovving the publication of Hirschi's theory, however, research on the fa~ly began to increase. Nonetheless, it sparked reactions that were negative as well as positive, ideological as well as scientific. It is a reconstruction of the delinquency problem that remains very much in contention today.
1. ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT HUMAN NATURE AND SOCIAL ORDER This contention stems, in no little part, from Hirschi's resurrection of some old, very conservative points of view about human nature; namely that all people would be delinquent if given the chance. Without adequate socialization, or the presence of social control, delinquent conduct would be common. Rather than working for years to pay for a car, for example, people would simply steal one. What children must be taught, therefore, IS not how to break the law but how to restrain their natural impulses and how to be law abiding. Meanwhile, Hirschi, like other control theorists, also assumed that tl:e sO~ial order is characterized by value consensus. People are not diVIded mto subcultures according to differing values; rather, most people agree that crime is bad. Hence, it is only delinquents (and adult criminals) who defy convention and threaten social stability.
---------------------FIGURE 24.1 ___________ _ ------.. Stake in .....---p.. Conformist bel,aVl'or Sodi.11 __---->-- co nfornu'ty bond
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an nature aside, his version of control which makes sense to authoriti~s and Hirschi' 5 assumption about theory is the kind of explanatlf their interventions. They can readily unupon which they base many °deliI1quents to some kind of family, recomderstand the need to reattach .:[1vo1ve them in constructive actiVIties, roit them to long-ran~e ~oals~ ~lorality of law. and cultivate their behef m th
Z. LOGIC AND CONTENT OF CONTROL THEORY Soci~ control theory is as much a theory of conformity as of delinquency. Sll~ce all of us are animals at birth who will prey upon others unless restraIned, we must seek to explain what spells the difference between deviance and conformity. The answer is the social bond. If the process of socialization is effective:-if chil~en are attached to others, committed to long-range goals, Involved In conventional activities, and believe in the morality of law-the social bond will develop, a stake in conformity will be created, and conformist behavior will result. But if socialization is ineffective, natural human impulses will remain unrestrained, children will be free to deviate, and delinquent conduct will be the consequence. (See Figure 24.1.)
ICAf.. ADEQUACY 4. LOGICAL AND EMPIR . control theory will predict delinquency Hirschi contends that sOClal and race. Relative to the concepts of atacross the lines of gender, dasSi eld up rather well. Those elements of tachment, this contention haS o~ the test of logical and empirical scrutithe theory which have best sto tl,e idea that attachment to family and ny are those which (1) stresS difference between confor=ty and de. and ocschool is crucial in spellin g the.tfIl-ent to long-term educational viance; (2) indicate that CO~tO' rather than a caus~ of, de~in~uent cupational goals is a barfle .flvolvement in acadeffilc purSUlts, if not behavior and (3) suggest thatIS1 useful in promoting conformity. other conventional actlvltIes, I
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346
24. LaMar T. Empcy
Con tro! Theory
By contrast, the areas most in question are Hirschi's concepts of human nature and social order, and his view of the delinquent as a psyci10path who lacks compassion and feeling for anyone. Just as cultural deviance, strain, and interactionist theories were extreme in painting delinquents as moral and gregarious people who violate the law only because they feel compelled to adhere to the expectations of others, social control theory probably goes too far in the opposite direction. When it indicates that delinquents are unsocialized predators, it underestimates the role of peers in generating support for delinquent conduct, overstates the importance of acquired beliefs as barriers to delinquent behaviDr, and leaves unaddressed the issues raised by the economic, political, and racial organization of society. Although attaclunent, commitment, and involvement are barriers to delinquency, it cannot be said that all juveniles share an equal opportunity to experience these civilizing influences. Why, for example, is the prototypical perpetrator of violent crime synonymous with the prototypical victim-a young minority male who is a ghetto dweller? Control theory is probably correct in suggesting that he is neither well attached to a stable home life, nor committed to conventional longrange goals, nor involved in academic pursuits. Furthermore, control theory is probably more realistic than culture deviance, strain, or interactionist theories in painting the destructive consequences of a disrupted social bond. Life for the young urban street dweller is not a romantic odyssey, characterized by warm companionship and a carefree life. As Claude Brown put it so eloquently. I remember Johnny saying that the only thing in life a bad nigger was scared of was living too long. This just meant that if you were going to be respected in Harlem you had to be a bad nigger; and if you were going to be a bad nigger, you had to be ready to die. I wasn't ready to do any of that stuff. But I had to. I had to act crazy. Sometimes I used to get headaches thinking about it. I used to get sick. I couldn't get up. And sometimes I'd just jump out of bed and run out and say, "Cmon, man, let's go steal somethin'[" I'd get Turk, I'd get TIto, I'd get anybody who was around. I'd say, "Cmon, man, let's go pull a score." It seemed li1<e the only way I could get away (1965:127).
Although Brown was, in fact, poorly attached to home and school, control theory is still unable to encompass the range of forces which contributed to his delinquent conduct. Being aware of his need for greater love and understanding from his parents, we also need to know that they were saddled with a legacy of racial discrimination, poverty, and injustice. Hence, if they were to do a better job of insulating him against the destructive infhiences that surrounded him, they had to
347
somehow sublimate their own feelings of anger, demoralization, and inadequacy, arm him against the chaos that so often characterizes ghetto schools, and make algebra and social studies more attractive than life on the streets. Clearly, theirs was a herculean task for which better intrafamily relations were not the only answer. At the root of their problems were economic, political, and cultural forces that extended well beyond the limits of their immediate family-forces about which control theory does not provide us with adequate understanding. In addition, research suggests that more privileged families also have problems of a more general type, generated by the impersonal character of modern society, the constant struggle for status and belonging, and the economic and ideological changes that can make the role of being a parent seem increasingly less rewarding. In short, whether we seek to understand the delinquent behavior of either privileged or underprivileged youth, we must combine the insights provided by control theory with those provided by broader, more structural, theories. Beyond the study of intrafamily and school relationships, we must also explore the effects on these institutions by political, economic, and demographic forces. Childhood in American society is designed and organized by all of these social forces.
REFERENCE Brown, Claude 1965 Manchild in the Promised Land, New York: Macmillan.
348
25. John H. Laub and RobertJ. Sampson
Control Theory
Contemporary Application 25 Turning Points in the Life Course: Why Change Matters to the Study of Crime
JOHN H. LAUB and ROBERT J. SAMPSON Several years ago we uncovered 60 cartons of case files in the basement of the Harvard Law School Library. These data constituted the classic longituetinal study of 500 delinquents and 500 nondelinquents initiated by Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck in 1940 (see Glueck and Glueck, 1950, 1968). While we were organizing and reconstructing the Gluecks' data, two important books rocked the field of criminology-Criwe alld HUlIlall Nature by James Q. Wilson and Richard Hermstein (1985), and A General Theory of Crillle by Michael Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi (1990). Although certainiy different, the thrust of these books was to redirect criminological attention to the importance of childhood. For example, Gottfredson and Hirschi (1990) argue that effective child rearing in the early formative years of a child's development produces high self-control, which in turn is a stable phenomenon that inhibits crime throughout the life course. The work of Wilson and Herrnstein (1985) pushed the explanation of crime back even earlier in life to constitutional differences (e.g., impulsiveness and temperament) in interaction with familial factors (see also Grasmick et al., 1993; Nagin and Paternoster, 1991). Ironically, then, as we were resurrecting the Gluecks' data, new life was breathed into the primary thesis of the Gluecks-childhood temperament and family socialization matter most, and thus the "past is prologue" (Glueck and Glued" 1968:167). Although attracted to this renewed emphasis on the importance of children and families to the explanation of delinquency, we were troubled by the profound questions raised by the childhood-stability argument. Are differences in child rearing and temperament all we need to know to understand patterns of
Reprinted from "Turning Points in the Life Course: Why Change Matters to the Study of Crime" by John H. Laub and Rahert J. Sampson, in Criminology and Criminal J1Istice. © 1993. Reprinted by permission. An earlier version of this article was presented at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, New Orleans, 1992. We thilllk the reviewers for constructive criticisms on an earlier draft. Life-history data were derived from the Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck archives of the Harvard Law School Library, currently on long-term ! .... ",.,~"
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adult crime? Are childhood differences in antisocial behavior invariably stable? Why does continuity in deviant behavior exist? Perhaps most important, what about individual change, salient life events, and turning points in adulthood? Challenged by these and other questions, we set out to examine crime and deviance in childhood, adolescence, and adulthood in a way that recognized the significance of both continuity and change over the life course. To do so we synthesized and integrated the crirninologicalliterature on childhood antisocial behavior, adolescent delinquency, and adult crime with theory and research on the life course (Sarnpson and Laub, 1992). By also rethinidng the finetings produced by longitudinal research, we were eventually led to develop an age-graded theory of informal social control to explain crime and deviance over the life span. We then tested this theory on the longitudinal data we reconstructed from the Gluecks' study (Sampson and Laub, 1993). Building on these efforts, we turn to an examination of conceptual issues relating to continuity and change in antisocial behavior over the life course. With respect to continuity, we highlight the distinction between self-selection and cumulative continuity. We then unite the ideas of state dependence (Nagin and Paternoster, 1991) and cumulative continuity (Caspi and Moffitt, 1993a, Moffitt, 1993) in delineating a developmental, sequential model of crime across the life course. With respect to change, we explicate the relevance of the adult life course and the various meanings of change. Our major thesis is that social capital and turning points are important concepts in understanding processes of change in the adult life course. We illush'ate these concepts using qualitative life-history data dravvn from the Gluecks' study. Overall, our goal is to advance a framework that challenges theories of crime which "pre_ suppose a developmental determinism in which childhood experiences set the course of later development" (Bandura, 1982:747). To set the stage, we briefly highlight the theoretical framework on change from our recent study (Sampson and Laub, ] 993)
AN AGE-GRADED THEORY OF INFORMAL SOCIAL CONTROL The central idea of social control theory-that crime and deviance are more likely when an individual's bond to society is weak or broken-is an organizing principle in our theory of social bonding over the life course. 1 Following Elder (1975/ 1985), we differentiate the life course of ~~iv~~u~als on,the ~~si: of ag,e and ~rgue th~t the important i~t.ilutions
350
25. John H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson
Control Theory
However, we emphasize U1€ role of age-graded, infonllal social control as reflected in the structure of interpersonal bonds linldng members of society to one another and to wider social institutions (e.g., work, family, school). Unlike formal sanctions that originate in purposeful efforts to control crime, informal social controls "emerge as by-products of role relationships established for other purposes and are components of role reciprocities" (Kornhauser, 1978:24). Although rejecting the "ontogenetic" approach dominant in developmental psychology (see Dannefer, 1984), our theoretical framework nonetheless follows a developmental strategy (Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990; Patterson et al., 1989). The specific developmental approach we take views causality as "best represented by a development network of causal factors" in which dependent variables become independent variables over time (Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:433). Moreover, developmental criminology recognizes both continuity and within-individual changes over time, focusing on "life transitions and developmental covariates ...which may mediate the developmental course of offending" (Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:451). This strategy has also been referred to as a "stepping-stone approach" whereby factors are time ordered by age and assessed with respect to outcome variables (see Farrington, 1986). A similar orientation can be found in interactional theory as proposed by Thomberry (1987). Interactional theory embraces a developmental approach and argues convincingly that causal influences are reciprocal over the life course and that delinquency may contribute to the weakening of social bonds over time. Thomberry's perspective is also consistent with a person-centered approach to development as propounded by Magnusson and Bergman (1988:47). Namely, by focusing explicitly on "persons" rather than "variables" and examining individuallife histories over time (see Magnusson and Bergman, 1988, 1990), this strategy offers insight into the social processes of intra-individual developmental change in criminal behavior over the life course. Although beyond the scope of this analysis, the first building block in our "sociogenic"developmental theory focuses on the mediating role of informal family and school social bonds in explaining childhood and adolescent delinquency (Sarnpson and Laub, 1993: Ch. 4-5). As elaborated more below, the second building block incorporates the subsequent continuity in childhood and adolescent antisocial behavior that extends throughout adulthood across a variety of life's domains (e.g., crime, alcohol abuse, divorce, unemployment). Having provided a role for continuity, we nonetheless believe that salient life events and social ties in adulthood can counteract, at least to some extent, the trajeCtories of early child development. Hence, a ./.1-.:_..1 __ ..1 __ ~ __ ./.'\.. __ : __ , _ •• __ .• __ 1 . : .
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especially attacJzment to the laborforce and cohesive marriage (or cohabitation)-explain criminal behavior regardless of prior differences in criminal propensity. In other words, we contend that pathways to both crime and conformity are modified by key institutions of social control in the transition to adulthood (e.g., employment, military service, and marriage). In contrast to many life-course models, we emphasize the quality or strength of social ties in these transitions more than the occurrence or timing of discrete life events (cf. Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:430-432). For example, marriage per se may not increase social control, but close emo' tional ties and mutual investment increase the social bond betvveen individuals and, all else equal, should lead to a reduction in criminal behavior (cf. Shover, 1985:94). Employment by itself also does not necessarily increase social control. It is employment coupled with job stability, commitment to work, and mutual ties binding workers and employers that should increase social control and, all else equal, lead to a reduction in criminal behavior. In short, our theory attempts to unite continuity and change within the context of sociological understanding of crime in the life course. A major concept in our framework is the dynamic process Whereby the interlocking nature of trajectories and transitions generates tumillg points or a change in life course (Elder, 1985:32). Adaptation to life events is crucial because the same event or transition followed by different adaptations can lead to different trajectories (Elder, 1985:35). That is, despite the connection between childhood events and experiences in adulthood, turning points can modify life trajectories-they can "redirect paths." For some individuals, turning points are abrupt-radical "turnarounds" or changes in life history that separate the past from the future (Elder et al., 1991:215). For most individuals, however, we conceptualize turning points as "part of a process over time and not as a dramatic lasting change that takes place at anyone time" (Pickles and Rutter, 1991:134; see also Clausen, 1990; McAdam, 1989:745; Rutter, 1989a, 1989b). The process-oriented nature of turning points leads us to focus on incremental change embedded in informal social controls. To evaluate and refine our theory, we analyzed the na tural histories of two groups of boys that differed dramatically in childhood antisocial behavior and delinquency that were followed into adulthood. More specifically, we reconstructed and examined the life histories originally gathered by Glueck and Glueck (1950, 1968) of 500 delinquents and 500 control subjects matched on age, IQ, etlmicity, and neighborhood deprivation. An exhaustive body of data (e.g., official records, observations, and personal interviews with subjects, parents, spouses, neighbors, and _ _ _ 1 __ • __ . \ ••• ____ 11_ ...... _.J . _
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25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson
Control Theory
young adulthood, and adulthood. Our analyses involved a multimethod, multi-measurement scheme that used quantitative and qualitative data (see Sampson and Laub, 1993, for details).
DISTINGUISHING SELF. SELECTION FROM CUMULATIVE CONTINUITY Critics will argue that individual differences combine with self-selection to account for patterns of behavior across the life course. In brief, this counterargument goes as follows: Individuals with an early propensity to crime (e.g., low seli-control) determined mainly by family socialization and individual differences (e.g., impulsiveness) systematically sort themselves throughout adulthood into states consistent with this latent trait. For instance, Gottfredson and Hirschi (1990:164-167) argue that delinquent and impulsive youths will choose deviant spouses, unstable jobs, and continue their delinquent ways in adulthood. If true, the adult life course is merely a setting within which predetermined lives are played out. In one sense the self-selection thesis was supported in the Gluecks' study-adolescent delinquents and nondelinquents displayed significant behavioral consistency well into adulthood. Delinquency and other forms of antisocial conduct in childhood were related not only to adult crime, but also to troublesome behaviors across a variety of adult domains (e.g., AWOL in the military, economic dependence, marital discord). This continuity persisted despite the fact that delinquents and controls were originally matched case-by-case on age, intelligence, neighborhood, and ethnicity. The hypothesis of self-selection, however, leads to a more fundamental methodological implication--correlations among adult behaviors (e.g., job instability and crime) are completely spurious and should disappear once controls are introduced for prior individual-level differences in criminal propensity or low self-control (see Gottfredson and Hirschi, 1990:154-168). Although rarely examined directly, we believe the data do not support this spuriousness hypothesis. In particular, our quantitative analyses revealed independent effects of marital attachment and job stability on adult crime. These results were consistent for a wide variety of outcome measures, control variables (e.g., childhood and adolescent antisocial behavior; individual-difference constructs, such as IQ, self-control, mesomorphy, and personality), and analytic techniques-including methods that account for persistent unobserved heterogeneity in criminal orooensitv (see NaQ:in and Paternoster. 1991),
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Rutter et al. (1990) have also shown tl,e independent explanatory power of adult marital cohesion on adult deviance, self-selection notwithstanding. At the same time, our theory incorporates the causal role of prior delinquency in facilitating adult crime by integrating the concept of state dependence (Nagin and Paternoster, 1991) with that of Cllmlllutive contill11ihJ (Moffitt, 1993). Although tl1.i.s role is potentially direct, we emphasize a developmental model wherein delinquent behavior has a systematic, attenuating effect on the social and institutional bonds linking adults to society (e.g., labor force attachment, marital cohesion). More specifically, the idea of cumulative continuity posits that delinquency incrementally mortgages the future by generating negative Consequences for the life chances of stigmatized and institutionalized youths. For example, arrest and incarceration may spark failure in school, unemployment, and weak community bonds, in turn increasing adult crime (Tittle, 1988:80). Serious delinquency in particular leads to the "knifing off" (Caspi and Moffitt, 1993a; Moifitt, 1993) of future opportunities such U1at participants have fewer options for a conventionallife. The cumulative continuity of disadvantage is thus not only a result of stable individual differences in criminal propensity, but a dynamic process whereby childhood antisocial behavior and adolescent delinquency foster adult crime through the severance of adult social bonds. In this view, weak social bonding is a mediating and, hence, causal sequential link in a chain of adversity betvveen childhood delinquency and adult criminal behavior_ The thesis of cumulative continuity was supported in our quantitative analyses. As noted above, job stability and marital attachment in adulthood were significantly related to changes in adult crime-the stronger U1e adult ties to work and family, the less crime and deviance among delinquents and controls. Moreover, social bonds to employment were directly influenced by state sanctions-incarceration as a juvenile and as a young adult had a negative effect on later job stability, which in turn was negatively related to continued involvement in crime over the life course. Although we found little direct effect of incarceration on subsequent criminality, the indirect "criminogenic" effects through job stability were substantively important. Recent research by Nagin and Waldfogel (1992) also supports the cumulative continuity thesis in showing a destabilizing effect of convictions on the labor market prospects of a cohort of London boys. Our synthesis of cumulative continuity and state dependence recasts in a structural and developmental framework the original contf'ntinn~
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354
Control Theory
(e.g., arrest) may create problems of adjustment (e.g., unemployment) that foster additional crime in the form of secondary deviance (Becker, 1963; Lemert, 1951; Tittle, 1988). AB Becker (1963:24-39) has argued, the concept of a deviant career suggests a stable pattern of deviant behavior, which is sustained by the labeling process. More recently, Hagan and Palloni (1990) suggested that continuity in delinquent behavior may result from a structural imputation process that begins early in childhood (see also Tittie, 1988:78-81). They show that this process may even extend across generations, thereby explaining the effects of parental conviction on sons' delinquency regardless of family background and propensity to crime. CUMULATIVE DISADVANTAGE AND STRUCTURAL BACKGROUND
Hagan's (1991) research further suggests that the deleterious effect of adolescent deviance on adult stratification outcomes is greatest among lower-class boys, especially as mediated by police contacts. Middle-class boys who escaped the negative consequences of official Jabeling did not suffer impairment in adult occupational outcomes as a result of their adolescent delinquency. In other words, avoiding the snares of arrest and institutionalization provided opportunities for prosocial attachments among middle-class youths to take finn hold in adulthood. Similarly, lessor et al. (1991) show that for middle-class youths, delinquency is not a major handicap with respect to adult outcomes. These studies suggest that the concepts of kniHng off and cumulative continuity are most salient in explaining the structurally constrained life chances of the disadvantaged urban poor. In short, there is evidence that cumulative disadvantage, state-dependence, and location in the class structure may interact. Among those in advantaged positions that provide continuity in social resources over time, non delinquents and delinquents alike are presumably not just more motivated, but better able structurally to establish binding ties to conventional lines of adult activity If nothing else, incumbency in prosocial middle-class roles provides advantages in maintaining the status quo and counteracting negative life events (e.g., last hired, first fired). Race, class, and crime also pervade the consciousness of American society more generally and employers in particular. Consider the widespread perceptions of black as "dangerous" and "criminal" as rationales by employers for discrimination in hiring (Kirschenman and Neckerman, 1991). We therefore merge the state-dependence thesis that historical time matters with a concern for structural location. Quite simply, the context of where and how long one has been in prior states is crucial in IIncIpr.<::.t;'lnriino- b+t:>r ",A"j+ AOHa1,.,. ...... ..,... ... "' ..
25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson
355
SELF.SELECTION RECONSIDERED
Our theoretical conceptualization of cumulative continuity and the causal role of the adult life course does not negate the potential direct or unmediated effect of self-selection through individual differences. In other words, by distinguishing self-selection from cumulative continuity, we incorporate the independent effects of early delinquency (or individual propensity) and the dimensions of adult social bonding on adult crime. This distinction is consistent with recent research on homophily in social choices across the life course. For example, Kandel et a1. (1990) studied mate selection and found considerable homophllydeviant individuals tend to select deviant marriage or cohabitation partners (see also Caspi et al., 1990). Nevertheless, social causation emerges as a crucial factor even in the face of such social selection. As Kandel et al. (1990:221) state, "Although individual cl,oices are made, in part, as a function of the individual's prior attributes, values, and personality characteristics, involvement in the new relationship has further effects and influences on that individual." Similarly, Rutter et al. (1990) found homophily in the choice of marital partners but also a substantial effect of marital cohesion that held after taking planning of marriage partners into account. The emergence of significant social causation in tandem with homophily (or self-selection) undermines the theoretical individualism that pervades social scientific thought. We believe that an overemphasis on self-selection stems from a "broadly perpetuated fiction in modern society" (Coleman, 1990:300): TIus fiction is that society consists of a set of independent individuals, each of whom acts to achieve goals that are independently arrived at, and that the functioning of the social system consists of the combinations of the actions of independent individuals.
Consistent with our theory, social interdependence arises from the fact that actors have social investments in events and relationships that are partially under the control of other actors. Hence, the interdependent web of relations characteristic of social collectivities ensures the operation of constraints and opportunities in shaping behavior notwithstanding individual intentions. 2
WHY CHANGE STILL MATTERS Whether generated by self-selection or cumulative continuity, a focus on stability is nonetheless insufficient for understanding crime in the
356
Control Theory
perfect. As the literature on prediction shows, childhood variables tend to be rat~l~r modest prognostic devices. In fad, a large percentage of false posItives and false negatives is a common result (see, e.g., Loeber and Stouthamer-Loeber, 1987; Farrington and Tarling, 1985). The predl:~O~ literature thus remforces the futility of an invariant or deterITIIDIStiC conception of human development Gessor et al., 1991; Sampson and Laub, 1992). Second, and equally important, rank-order correlations and other c~rnmor: measures of stability refer to the consistency of betvveen-indivIdual differences over time and consequently rely on an aggregate picture of relative standing. As Huesmann et al. (1984:1131) note, what remams.stable over time is the position of an individual relative to the po~u~ahon. Stability coefficients do not measure the heterogeneity of l~dlVIdual behaviors over time and, hence, do not capture within-indivIdual change.
Life is dynamic; change is clearly possible. Yet the theoretical concept:ralizahon of change has been surprisingly neglected, not just in crurunology (see Farrington, 1988; Sampson and Laub, 1992) but in develop~ental psychology as well. indeed, in searching the litera hIre, we found litti~ conceptual work that directly confronts the problem. 3 Moreover, Caspl and Bem (1990:569)have argued that when the term change does app:ar, It frequen~y. refers to the mere absence of continuity. We thus consIder more explICitly the meaning of change and how it comes about. SOCIAL CAPITAL AND TURNING POINTS
!'1uch of the confusion regarding change centers on the various meanmg~ the co~c~pt conveys. According to the 1992 edition of The American ~entage DlctlOnan! of tJlellEnglisl~ Language, one definition of change is to cause to be dlfferent -to gIve a completely different form or appearance, to wholly transform or alter. This definition is most closely related to Caspi and Moffitt's (1993b) notion of "deep" or "real" change (~.g., ~ ~gh-rate offender who suddenly desists and becomes a productIve ~l~en). But change can also mean a modification, reshaping, or t~anSltion from one state, condition, or phase to another. For instance, a high-rate offender ~ho b~g~s to commit fewer crimes than expected ba:ed on age and pnor cnmmal propensity changes because his or her trajectory has been modified. A third meaning of change is exchange or r~p~acement with another, usually of tile same kind or category. An indIVIdual may change from use of beer and wine to use of marijuana and cocaine. Or offenders may change from burglary to robbery.
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All of this leads us to think of change along a continuum and to investigate the underlying processes that enable people to change the course of their lives. We believe this may be accomplished by viewing the life course as a probabilistic linkage or chain of events (Rutter et al., 1990) and by unraveling the mechanisms that operate at key turning points (e.g., when a risk trajectory is recast to a more adaptive path [Rutter, 1987:329]). In our view, "deep" change and "modified" change are of most interest; both are enhanced when changing roles and environments lead to social investment or social capital (Coleman, 1988, 1990; Nagin and Paternoster, 1992) in institutional relationships (e.g., family, work, community). As Coleman (1990:302) argues, U,e distinguishing feature of social capital lies in the structure of interpersonal relations and institutionallinkages. Social capital is created when these relations change in ways that facilitate action. In other words, "social capital is productive, making possible the achievements of certain ends that in its absence would not be possible" (Coleman, 1988:98). By contrast, physical capital is wholly tangible, being embodied in observable material form (1990:304), and human capital is embodied in the skills and knowledge acquired by an individual. Social capital is even less tangible, for it is embodied in the relations among persons (1990:304). A core idea, then, is that independent of the forms of physical and human capital available to individuals (e.g., income, occupational skill), social capital is a central factor in facilitating effective ties that bind a person to societal institutions.·1 Linking Coleman's notion of social capital to social control theory, we have argued that the lack of social capital or investment is one of the primary features of weak social bonds (Sampson and Laub, 1993; see also Coleman, 1990:307; Nagin and Paternoster, 1992). The theoretical task is to identify the characteristics of social relations that facilitate the social capital available to individuals, families, employers, and other social actors. One of the most important factors is the closure (i.e., "connectedness") of networks among actors in a social system (Coleman, 1990:318-320). In a system involving employers and employees, for example, relations characterized by an extensive set of obligations, expectations, and interdependent social networks are better able to facilitate social control than are jobs characterized by purely utilitarian objectives and nonoverlapping social networks. Similarly, the mere presence of a relationship (e.g., marriage) among adults is not sufficient to produce social capital, and hence, the idea of social capital goes beyond Simple structural notions of role change (i.e., married versus not married) to capture the idea of embeddedness.
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Our theory thus maintains that adult social ties are important insofar as they create interdependent systems of obligation and restraint that impose significant costs for translating criminal propensities into action. In this scheme, adults will be inhibited from committing crime to the extent that over time they accumulate social capital in their work and family lives, regardless of delinquent background. By contrast, those subject to weak systems of interdependency (see also Braithwaite, 1989) and informal social control as an adult (e.g., weak attachment to the labor force or noncohesive marriage) are freer to commit devianceeven if nondelinquent as a youth. This dual premise enables us to explain desistance from crime as well as late onset, and it is consistent with Jessor et al.'s (1991:160) argument that change is "as much an outcome of the person's embeddedness in a socially organized and structured context of age-related roles, expectations, demands, and opportunities as it is of internal dispoSitions and intentions." We also emphasize the reciprocal nature of social capital invested by employers and spouses. For example, employers often take chances in hiring workers, hoping that their investment will payoff. Similarly, a prospective marriage partner may be aware of a potential spouse's deviant background but may nonetheless invest his or her future in that person. This investment by the employer or spouse may in turn trigger a return investment in social capital by the employee or other spouse. The key theoretical point is that social capital and interdependency are reciprocal and embedded in the social ties that exist between individuals and social institutions. This conception may help explain how change in delinquent behavior is initiated (e.g., an employer's taldng a chance on a former delinquent, fostering a return investment in that job, which in turn inhibits the deviant behavior of the employee). Sullivan's (1989) research on gangs in New York also provides insight into racial, ethnic, and community differences in the influence of social capital on transitions to work. As they entered young adulthood, the men in the low-income white neighborhood that Sullivan studied secured better-quality jobs than men in African-American or Hispanic neighborhoods. Whites were also better able to hold onto these jobs, in part because of their familiarity with the "discipline of the workplace" gained through personal networks and intergenerational ties (1989:100105). Networks with the adult community thus differentiated the chances of white youths' escaping environmental adversity from those of their minority counterparts. In a similar vein, Anderson's Streetwise: Rnce, Class and CJJange in an Urban Com11lunihj (1990) points to the importance of racial differences in intergenerational ties and the salience of those ties in facilitating 'employment among young males as they enter ."..-1"IJ.h,....... ..-l
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359
over time in African-American "old heads," who socialized boys in the world of work and adulthood more generally. These ethnographies underscore variations by race, ethnicity, and shuctural context in social capital and its role in promoting successful transitions to young adulthood (see also Short, 1990). Thus, because individual-difference constructs and childhood antisocial behavior are independent of adult social capital and structural context in fundamental respects, another key aspect of our theory is the partial exogenous nature of the adult life course. This conceptualization opens the door for turning points that can redirect behavioral trajectories in the transition to adulthood. To be sure, we are not implying that individuals in our study became completely different or that they transformed their total personality as a result of social bonding in adulthood. We do not have the data to assess such transformations, nor would we expect that kind of change to occur given what we know about continuities over the life course. But we strongly contend that behavioral changes do occur and that adult life-course patterns are not solely the result of childhood socialization (Bandura, 1982)5
A PERSON.BASED, LIFE· HISTORY APPROACH TO CHANGE Our research program has included an intensive qualitative analysis of the life-history records for a subset of men from the Gluecks' study (see Sampson and Laub, 1993: Ch. 9). In contrast to the traditional "variables oriented" approach dominant in criminology and the social sciences at large (see especially, Abbott, 1992; Katz, 1988), we have adopted a "person oriented" strategy that allows us to explore "patterns or configurations of relevant person characteristics in a developmental perspective" (Magnusson and Bergman, 1990:101). This approach enables one to investigate person-environment interactions, sequences of action, and individual change over lime (see Abbott, 1992; Cairns, 1986; Magnusson and Bergman, 1988:47). Consistent with our goal of integrating quantitative and qualitative methods, we used quantitative results to identify cases for in-depth qualitative analysis. For example, based on the finding that job stability was an important predictor of desistance from crime, we selected cases that displayed high job stability (e.g., upper 15% of the frequency distribution) in combination with no arrest experiences as an adult. Similarly, we selected cases exhibiting low job stability (e.g., bottom quartile of the distribution) and arrest experiences as an adult. When there was suffi_;~~"_
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lected them for in-depth analysis (e.g., strong job stability and no offending in adulthood). We used a similar selection procedure for marital attachment. In total, we reconstructed and examined 70 life histories from the delinquent sample (see Sampson and Laub, 1993, for details). Integrating divergent sources of life-history data (e.g., narratives, interviews), our qualitative analysis was consistent with the hypothesis that the major turning points in the life course for men that refrained from crime and deviance in adulthood were stable employment and good marriages. As an illustration of our thesis, consider the case history of a subject we call Charlle 6 Although Charlie had no official arrests during adulthood (ages 17-32), this pattern sharply contrasted with his criminal experiences in childhood and adolescence. As a juvenile, Charlie had 10 arrests, primarily for larcenies and burglaries. His first arrest occurred at the age of eight. Moreover, he was incarcerated three times (his first commitment took place when he was 11), and he spent a total of 30 months confined in reform schools. At the age of 18, Charlie joined the U.S. Maritime Service. He was employed by the same shipping line for two and a half years, working the eastern seaboard from Canada to Cuba. Once every three months, he returned home. Charlle gave virtually all of his earnings to his mother to bank for him. His parole officer speculated that Charlie joined the merchant service to remove himself from detrimental neighborhood influences that were leading him to delinquency and crime. During this same period (ages 1B-20), Charlle began a relationship with a woman who would eventually become his wife. Although classmates together in high school, they began an active courtship via letters" while Charlie was in the merchant service. At age 25, Charlie was living with his wife in East Boston. (He was almost 21 at the time of marriage and his wife was 19.) According to interview data, Charlie was devoted to his wife, and the couple appeared especially united in their mutual desire to advance economically. Their goal was to build their own home. Charlie was appreciative of his wife's cooperation and her enduring help and desire to advance economically. When asked for reasons for his reformation, he offered, ''I'm married, older, and settled down now." This portrait of Charlie's life did not change very much at his age-32 interview. He was living with his wife and two children in a suburb close to Boston. Charlie appeared happy and was especially devoted to his two children. In his spare time, he worked on home improvement. Throughout the age 25-32 period, Charlie worked at one job and had recently been promoted to foreman. He had been a machine operator at the factory where he now'-acted as the foreman. From interviewer notes, 11
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Charlie was described as an industrious worker with no problems on the job whatsoever. 1n this article, we further advance the life-history, person-based approach to uncovering turning points and processes of change. Specifically, we selected cases for qualitative analyses that demonstrated a change in social bonds (a general measure combining job stability and marital attachment) from age 25 to age 32. Our analysis revealed evidence of both incremental and abrupt change. Incremental change usually occurred over a period of time in the context of an ongoing relationship or institutional affiliation (e.g., marriage); abrupt change was linked to a single event (e.g., entering the military). We also examined the investment processes that are involved as social capital is formed through the development of strong marital ties. Marital investment is a reciprocal process between husbands and wives that, if successfut encourages desistance from crime because of the strength of the social relations that are built up in the family. The life history of the subject we call Tony illustrates these investment processes. Tony had five arrests during the age of 17-25 period, including arrests for serious crimes such as armed robbery and burglary. He also served considerable time in penal institutions-32 months from age 20 to 25. Tony's marital situation at ages 17-25 was also rocky. At the time of his marriage, Tony was 22 and his wife was 17. His wife was in high school when she became pregnant, an event that precipitated their marriage. Shortly after the marriage, the couple separated on and off. They continued to experience poor conjugal relations throughout the early period of their marriage. Despite marital discord and a record of crime as a young adult, Tony had no criminal activity (official or unofficial) during the age 25-32 period. What accounted for this change in behavior? Inspection of his lifehistory material reveals a distinct change in the marital relationship. At Tony's age-32 interview, his family situation had changed dramatically. to the point that the couple's conjugal relations were cohesive. Tony was described as a rather dependent type who clung to his wife. She was portrayed as a strong, sensible person whose interests were in the home and in her family. The couple had two sons, and overall there was a strong "we feeling" in the household. According to Tony, his reasons for reformation included: (1) "I have steady work," (2) "I have family responsibilities now," and (3) "I have learned my lesson"- he feared returning to prison. According to detailed interviewer notes and additional narratives, the strong influence of Tony's wife was the most important reason for his reform. Indeed, in what appears to be a form of marital social control seen in other cases
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described below, the interviewer wrote that Tany's wife "gives him good counsel and she sees to it that the subject follows her advice." Other cases we examined revealed more abrupt change. For instance, one subject, Fred, had no arrests as an adult although he experienced five arrests as a juvenile, mainly for burglaries and larcenies. Fred was incarcerated in reform school for a period of nine months for his crimes. At the age of 16, he left school to go to work in order to support his mother and five siblings. Pred served in the U.S. Maritime Service for about 18 months at ages 17-18. He worked on oil tankers along the East Coast. Throughout the age 17-25 period, Fred remained single. He was living with his mother and siblings in Boston at the age-25 interview. Fred fully supported his mother and two siblings who were still in high school. According to narrative data in the case file, Fred had refrained from marriage until his younger siblings were out of high school. He worked in several unskilled jobs (e.g., an oil and coal truck helper, an apprentice welder, and a factory worker) Over this period. Fred stated that his "home responsibilities forced him to be a stable and regular worker." A similar pattern is revealed in Frank's life history. Although he had eight arrests during the age 17-25 period, Frank emphasized at age 25 that he intended to marry later that year and was making an earnest effort to reform. He noted how hard it was for him to get a steady job because of his record. At the age-32 interview, Frank had no official or unofficial record of criminal behavior. He married and was living with his wife and child. He worked in a warehouse and, by all accounts, was a reliable worker (e.g., he had held the same job for the past five years). Frank did admit to some excessive drinking during the period, but he claimed that his drinking had tapered off since his marriage. He stated that his reformation stemmed from a variety of factors: (1) the influence of his wife-according to the interviewer, "she exerts pressure on the subject to conform and holds in check his aggression," (2) family responsibilities, (3) a long period of probation, (4) fairly steady work since 1957, and (5) fear of being "put away." For George, a more incremental process of change was evident; it consisted of several circumstances, including leaving the city of Boston, becoming a parent, and finding a steady job. In his interview, George remarked: "Well, for one thing, I got out of Boston-I began to work steadily, and now I have a family- a son whom I always wanted. My father helped me to get back on the road to respectability and he has lived with us since we moved here. My wife always wanted me to do the right thing and I try to follow her advice. I got away from the old gang and the bookie racket which my uncle runs in the city. In a small town such as this, you have to go straight."
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Another set of cases we examined pointed to the military as a "settling influence" or turning point in the life course (see also Elder, 1986). Given the available information in the Gluecks' case files, it is hard to uncover exactly what it was about the military experience that facilitated a change in behavior. Also, our finding of a positive influence is somewhat surprising given our results on the continuity of antisocial behavior from adolescence into adult domains, including misconduct in the military (see Sampson and Laub, 1993:Ch. 6). However, it is not inconsistent that the military can function to turn some men's lives around, even as it disrupts other men's lives (Elder, 1986) or provides yet another setting for some men to continue their criminal and deviant behavior (Gottfredson and Hirschi, 1990:165). At his age-25 and age-32 interviews, Mickey was living with his wife and children. TIle subject married when he was almost 22 and his wife was nearly 21. A strong marital attachment betvveen Mickey and his spouse centered around their home and children. Mickey joined the US. Navy while on parole from reform school and remained there for 13 years. According to narrative data, the subject stated that his enlistment in the military changed his outlook on life. "In the navy I was thrown in with guys from all over the country; some of them were well educated and had good backgrounds. I began to see that my thinking was way out of line and that I was probably wrong. I began to do things their way and things have gone well ever since." This experience parallels tllat of another subject who spent a considerable period of time in the navy (seven and a half years) and had strong bonds to his wife and two sons. Similarly, other subjects in the study reported that they "matured in the service" or that the "army taught me a few things." Like Elder (1986), we find that for some men serving in the military can help surmount childhood disadvantage by recasting the past. Bandura (1982:753) argues that encounters in a closed milieu such as the military "have the grealest potential for branching persons abruptly into new trajectories of life." We also examined a subset of men who experienced a significant decline in social bonding from ages 25 to 32. In these cases, it was difficult to detect clear turning paints, but nevertheless certain patterns did emerge. For some men, a decline in job stability was due to changes in the labor market. Not surprisingly, layoffs, seasonal work, and factory closings all contributed to the weakening of ties to work For one subject, his troubles in adulthood started when the company he was working for "folded." All employees were let go and his "good job" was simply gone. Macro-level transformations of the economy clearly bear on individuallives.
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For several other cases the following scenario emerged. TIle subject married young, and often the marriage was forced due to pregnancy. Although prior to marriage there was some evidence of excessive drinking by the subject, the subject's wife claimed that the subject had matured into his familial responsibilities, and initially the couple got along well. Work was typically of a seasonal nature (e.g., construction work) and weather dependent. But as the men became older (and while one would normally expect an increasing "conformity" or settling down), ties to marriage and work unraveled. There were separations, followed by reconciliations, followed by further separations. There was often evidence of physical abuse and nonsupport of children. The subject's wife objected to the subject's drinking and was not pleased by the financial uncertainty of seasonal work. 111e subject resented what he perceived to be "overprotectiveness" on the part of his wife and claimed she "nagged" him. Often the subject's drinking continued to be a problem, exacerbated in part by the fact that in certain jobs drinking seemed to be tolerated or even encouraged so long as one did not drink on the job (Vaillant, 1983:96-97). As a result, crime and deviance became more pronounced over time due to the severing of social ties to work and family.
IMPLICATIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH As Clausen (1990) argues, the idea of turning points is an important concept in the study of lives. Turning points are closely linked to role transitions, and conceptually, they are helpful in understanding change in human behavior over the life course. We adapted this perspective to explore turning points in the lives of a sample of disadvantaged, persistent adolescent delinquents. Some positive turning points in the course of their lives were cohesive marriage, meaningful work, and serving in the military. Clear negative turning points were prolonged incarceration, heavy drinking, and subsequent job instability during the transition to young adulthood. Having established that change does in fact occur, the key research question for the future becomes: Why do some individuals change while others do not? Learning more about turning points-especially in the transition from adolescence to adulthood-is critical for understanding the development of social capital and the facilitation of change in life trajectories. For example, what predicts strong marital attachment in adulthood? How do troubled youths achieve job stability and a strong commitment to work as adults? Is military service an effective vehicle for reshaping the life course of disadvantaged youths? What roles do
structural factors and historical context play in determining strong bonds to family and work? More generally, how does one explain differential change among individuals? Although these questions are complex and form the basis of our current work, we advance some tentative hypotheses. One is simply that there is an element of luck, randomness, or chance operating throughout the course of life. Bandura (1982) argues that chance encounters play a prominent role in shaping life paths. Namely, chance encounters introduce an element of unpreructability in life-course trajectories and thereby opportunities for change to emerge. As Bandura (1982:749) writes, '~lthough U1e separate chains of events in a chance encounter have thel! own causal determinants, their intersection occurs fortuitously rather than through deliberate plan." A more explicit theorizing of the roles of chance, "adventitious happenings" (Rutter, 1989b:33) or what short and Strodtbeck (1965) many years ago called "aleatory" elements, may thus help to capture dynamic etiological processes. TI1e confluence of objective and subjective contingencies is also important in understanding the change process. In all likelihood, transitions involving structural role change, like marriage and employment, do not have the same meaning for everyone (Rutter, 1989a:20). For example, marriage and full-time work provided an opportunity for men in our study to change the direction of their life-course trajectory, but not every man saw it that way (see also Oausen, 1990; Elder et al., 1991). In other words, structural role changes only provide the possibility for change to occur-its realization is mediated by individual contingencies. Hence, there is a need to conceptualize and measure objective and subjective elements of turning points. . Although beyond the scope of this analysis, macro opportunIty structures for marriage and the lab or market also play central roles. As recent research on work and occupations shows, employment outcomes have as much to do with structural features of the labor market (e.g., vacancy chains, segmentation of the labor market, ethnic enclaves) as it does with individual predispositions to work (Rosenbaum, 1984; Rosenfeld, 1992). Similarly, network and exchange theory emphasize the importance of role multiplexity and interdependence that combine with other structural features of collective life to introduce numerous avenues for positive and negative change (Cook and Whitmeyer, 1992). As Dannefer (1987:216) argues, most research on life-course transitions is too quick to attribute continuity to social-psychological processes of "accentuation" rather than "structured mechanisms of sodal allocation producing similar differentiating tendencies in successive cohorts .." The channeling of prior differences and the tendency toward cumulation of
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advantage and disadvantage in employment (e.g., increasing inequality over time) are so general that they have been referred to as the "Matthew effect" (see Dannefer, 1987:216). Labor market research thus motivates a deeper appreciation of contextual forces and opportunity structures in the shaping of the life transitions of young adults. Relatedly, variations in criminal propensity (e.g., low self-control) are incomplete as an explanation of adult crime because the latter's realization is dependent on criminal opportunity (e.g., lack of guardianship or surveillance; suitable targets). Ties to work and family in adulthood restrict many criminal opportunities and thus reduce the probability that criminal propensities will be translated into action. For example, those in stable employment and marital relations are typically subject to more structured routine activities and less free time than those in unstable roles (see the discussion of free time, types of employment, and opportunities that facilitate drinking in Vaillant, 1983:96-97). Some turning points in life may also reflect changes in the availability or profitability of criminal strategies (see Cohen and Machalek, 1988)-' As noted earlier, cumulative continuity and processes of change are likely to interact with race and structural location (Hagan, 1991; lessor et aI., 1991). In particular, there is increasing evidence that the probability of adolescent risks beconting transmuted into adverse adult circumstances is greatest among those in disadvantaged racial and economic positions. Whether it be environmental traps in the form of unemployment or arrest, research is needed to specify the dependence of trajectories on structuralloca tion. Turning points and developmental change are bounded by historical context as well. The men in the Gluec1(5' study grew to young adulthood in a period of expanding economic opportunities during the 1950s and 19605. They were also in a position to take advantage of numerous opportunities offered by the G.!. Bill. Prospects for current cohorts may not be as promising. The industrial base in America has changed dramaticaliy over the past 20 years (Wtlson, 1987), and there has been an increase in global competition and a decline in expectations for upward social mobility. There is a sense that good jobs are harder to find and keep today than in previous decades. Moreover, the military may not be the vehicle out of poverty in the 1990s as it was during the 1940s and 1950s (Elder, 1986). Consistent with the life-course perspective, we thus stress the importance of conceptualizing and measuring secular change at the macrosociallevel, especially through explicit cohort comparisons (see Ryder, 1965). In this regard we believe a central topic for future research is the interaction of turning points with the varying structural locations and historical contexts within which individuals make the transition to "miner :ulll1t'hnnrl
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CONCLUSION Our dynamic conceptualization of social capital and informal social control at once incorporates stability and change in criminal behavior. Change is central to our model because we propose that variations in adult crime unexplained by childhood behavior are directly related to the strength of adult social bonds. Yet, we incorporate the link between childhood and adult outcomes, positing a cumulative, developmental process wherein delinquent behavior attenuates the social and institutional bonds linking adults to society (e.g., labor force attachment, marital cohesion). As such, we theorize that adult social bonds not only have important effects on adult crime in and of themselves, but help to explain the probablistic links in the chain connecting early childhood differences and later adult crime. Perhaps the key idea is ultimately a simple one-the adult life course matters, regardless of how one gets there. We do not deny the reality of sell-selection or that persons may sometimes "create" their own environment. But once in place, those environments take on a history of their own in a way that invalidates a pure spuriousness or sell-selection argument. Moreover, the self-selection view of the world is, in our opinion, much too deterministic and neglects the role of state sanctions, chance, luck, structural location, historical context, and opportunity structure in shaping the life course. In sum, by redirecting attention to the significance of both pathways and turning points in the life course, we are optimistic about the possibilities for a new research agenda that has the potential to unify heretofore divergent conceptions of stability and change in human development. For example, Gotlfredson and lfuschl (1990:177-178; Hirschl and Gottfredson, 1993) explicitly incorporate the role of opporhmity in explaining criminal events. If opportunity matters for criminal events, surely it matters for the establishment of strong employment and marital bonds. More important, at one point GoUfredson and Hirschi (1990:115) allow for social control in explaining adolescent delinquency. In this sense we see some compatibility between our theory and Gottfredson and Hirschi's theory, especially if one conceptualizes variations in social control as partly influenced by variations in self-control (see also Hirschl, 1992; lfuschl and Gotlfredson, 1993; Nagin and Paternoster, 1992). Therefore, while Gotlfredson and lfuschi (1990) and Wilson and Hermstein (1985) start off with a similar premise, they offer quite different possibilities for potential integration with our focus on change and informal social control across the adult life course. Future research is needed to examine these possibilities, especially the relative impor-
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NOTES
j For the life histories we describe herein, potentially reve~li~g inform~tiQn has been altered slightly in order to protect the confi~ent:tality of subjects (e,g_, the names of the subjects are fictitious). There dId not seem ~o be ~y pattern in the selection of these case~ WiUl respect ~o IQ, personalIty traIts such as aggressiveness, and early duldhood expenences., We further recognize that some turning points may provIde the opp?r~u7. nit)' for exposure to criminal and deviant networks. Moreover, It IS
6. 1.
The life course has been defined as "pathways through the age diHerentiat_ ed life span" (Elder, 1985:17), in particular the "sequence of culturally de-fined age~graded roles and social transitions that are enacted over time" (Caspi et al., 1990:15). Two central concepts underlie the analysis of !ifecourse dynamics. A trnjectolY is a pathway or line of development OVer the life span, such as work life, parenthood, and criminal behavior: Trajectories refer to long-term paHems of behavior and aTe marked by a sequence of transitions. Transitions are marked bv life events (e,g., first job or first marriage) that ate embedded in trajectories and evolve over shorter time spans (Elder, 1985,31-32). See also Sampson and Laub (1992). 2. Ecological constancy (e.g., community constraints) and continuities in the interpersonal environment may also underlie individual-level stability. In other words, behavioral patterns mny show stability Simply because the contextual environment remains stable. Hence, behavioral stability does not necessarily imply causal forces operating solely at the level of the individual (Sampson and Laub, 1992:78). 3. There is no doubt that substantial breakthroughs have been made in the statistical study of change (see especially, KessJer and Greenberg, 1981; Rogosa et aL. 1982; Tuma and Hannan, 1984). However, as indicated by the subtitle of Tuma and Hannan (1984), tlus work has focused on "models and methods." Our motivation is the development of a conceptual framework on types of change and the social mechanisms underlying change processes. 4. Although space limitations preclude extended consideral:ion, we also believe that cllltllml capital is central to understanding change. Cultural cap~ ital emerges in the form of adolescent cultural preferences that refled transitional experiences in the life course (DiJ\.1aggjo and Mohr, 1985). Cultural deficits stemming from identification with delinquent subcultures appear to diminish educational achievement ilnd, hence, occupational outcomes in the transition to young adulthood (Hagan, 1991). 5. A similar perspective on change is found in tile literature on social movements. In studying the biographicaJ consequences of activism, McAdam (1989) distinguishes between a radical transfonnation of one's Iife-con~ version-and the more common form of personal change- "alternation." The latter is not as drastic as a conversion; it refers instead to changes in life that grow out of prior programs of behavlor. Specifically, "the crucial difference between conversion and alternation centers on the degree to which the change is continuous with the individual's previous life and conception of self" (1989:745). Although alternation does noi entail a radical break with the past, McAdam correctly notes that "it is not an insignificant sodal process. On the contrary, it is associated with most of life's turning points" (p. 745). MeA-darn's eonceptualization of alternalion par~ allels our discussion of "incremental" change. For additional discussion of change processes involved in conversions and role exits see Ebaugh 11 "rH"
j j
pee~
ossible that as social ties to criminal and deVIant networks become ;tronger over time, the less likely one is to them. ,Mo.re research js needed on the competing roles of conventional and d,evlanl. pee~ networks in generating social capital and the effect of ~n:mg pomts In ,reshaping the structure and relative influence of assoclational nehvorks.
a~andon
j j
REFERENCES
j
Abbott, Andrew . ... S' I . 1 1992 From causes to events: Notes on narrahve POsluvlsm. octo ogrca Methods and Research 20:428-455. Anderson, EUjah . C nununity Chica1990 Streelwise: Race, Class, and Change m an Urban 0 . go: University of Chicago Press.
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Band"ura, Albert hs Am. P 1982 The psychology of chance encounters and life pat. encan sychologist 37]47-755.
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Beeker, Howard 1963 TIle Outsiders. New York Free Press.
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Braithwaite,}ohn 'd U' ·t 1989 Crime, Shame, and Reintegration. New York Cambn ge mverSl y Press.
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Personality continUity and change across the life course. In Lawrence Pervin (ed.), Handbook of Personality: Theory and Research. New York Guilford.
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Caspi, Avshi110m and Terrie E. MoffiH. .. d _ 1993a The continuity of maladaptive behavlOr: .From descnptJ.on to ~n ~r tandmg in the study of antisocial bebavlOr. rn Dante Clccheth an Cohen (eds,), Manual of Developmental Psychopathology.
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Caspi, Avshalom, Glen H. Elder, Jr., and Ellen S. Herbener 1990 Childhood personality and the prediction of life-course patterns. In Lee Robins and Ivlichael Rutter (eds.). Straight and Devious Pathways from Childhood to Adulthood. New York: Cambridge University Press. ClaLlsen, John
1990 Turning point as a life course concept: Meaning and measurement. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association, Washington, D,e. Cohen, Lawrence and Richard Machalek 1988 A general theory of expropriative crime: An evolutionary ecological approach. American Journal of Sociology 94:465-501 Colernan, James S. 1988 Social capital in the creation of human capital. American Journal of Sociology 94:595-120. 1990 Foundations of Soda I Theory. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
25. John H. Laub and RobertJ. Sarnpson
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Farrington, David P. 1986 Stepping stones to adult criminal careers. In Dan Olweus, Jack Block, and Marian Radke-Yarrow (eds.), Development of Antisocial and Prosocial Behavior. New York: Academic Press. 1988 Studying changes within individuals: The causes of offending. In Michael Rutter (ed.), Studies of Psychosocial Risk: The Power of Longitudinal Data. New York: Cambridge University Press. Farrington, David P. and Roger Tarling .. 1985 Prediction in Criminology. Albany: State Uruverslty of New York Press. Glueck, Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck 1950 Unraveling Juvenile Delinquency. New York: Commonwealth Fund. 1968 Delinquents and Nondelinquents in Perspective. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Gottfredson, Michael and Travis Hirschi 1990 A General Theory of Crime. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press.
Cook, Karen and Joseph Whitmeyer 1992 Two approaches to social structure: Exchange theory and network analysis. Annual Review of SOciology 18:109-127. Dannefer, Dale 1984 Adult development and social theory: A paradigmatic reappraisal. American Sociological Review 49:100-116. 1987 Aging as intracohort differentiation: Accentuation, the Matthew effect, and the life course. Sociological Forum 2:211-236. DiMag!:,:rio, Paul and John Mohr. 1985 Cultural capital, educational attainment and marital selection. American Journal of Sociology 90:1231-1261.
Grasmick, Harold, Charles R. TIttle, Robert J. Bursik, Jr., and Bruce Ameklev 1993 Testing the core empirical implications of Gottfredson and Hirschi's general theory of crime. Journal of Research in Crime and Delinquency 30:5-29.
Ebaugh, Helen Rose Fuchs 1988 Becoming an EX: The Process of Role Exit. Chicago: University of 01icago Press.
Hirschi, Travis 1992 From social control to self control. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, New Orleans.
Elder, Glen H., Jr. 1975 Age differentiation and the life course. Annual Review of Sociology 1:165-190. 1985 Perspectives on the life course. In Glen H. Elder, Jr. (ed.), Life Course Dynamics. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press. 1986 Military times and turning points in men's lives. Developmental Psychology 22:233-245.
HirschL Travis and Michael Goltfredson 1993 Commentary: Testing the general theory of crime. Journal of Research in Crime and Delinquency 30:47-54.
Elder, Glen H., Jr., Cynthia Gimbel, and Rache! lvie 1991 Turning points in life: the case of military service and war. :rvI.ilitary Psychology 3:215-231.
Hagan,John 1991 Destiny and drift: Subcultural preferences, status attainments, and the risks and rewards of youth. American SOciological Review 56567-582.
Hagan, John and Alberta Palloni 1990 The social reproduction of a criminal class in working-class London, circa 1950--1980. American Journal of Sodology 96:265-299.
Huesmann, Rowell, Leonard Eron, Monroe Lefkowitz, and Leopold Walder 1984 Stability of aggression over time and generatiOns. Developmental Psychology 20:1120-1134. Jessor, Richard, John E. Donovan, and Frances M. Costa 1991 Beyond Adolescence: Problem Behavior and YOWlg Adult Development. New York: Cambridge University Press. Kandel, Denise, Mark Davies, and Nazli Baydar 1990 The creation of interpersonal contexts: Homophily in dyadic relation-
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Michael Rutter (eds.), Straight and Devious Pathways from Childhood to Adulthood. New York Cambridge University Press. Katz, Jack
1988 Seductions of Crime. New York: Basic Books. Kessler, Ronald and David Greenberg 1981 Linear Panel Analysis. New York: Academic Press. Kirschenman, Joleen and Kathryn Neckerman 1991 "We'd love to hire them, buL." The meaning of race for employers. In Christopher Jencks and Paul Peterson (eds.), The Urban Underclass. Washington, D.e.: Brookings Institution. Komhauser, Ruth 1978 Social Sources of Delinquency. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lemert, Edwin 1951 Social Pathology. New York: McGraw-Hill. Loeber, Rolf and Marc LeBlanc
1990 Toward a developmental criminology. In Michael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
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Nagin, Daniel and loel Waldfogel . . 1992 The effects of criminality and convlction on the labour market status of young British offenders. Unpublished manuscript. Camegie MelIon University, Pittsburgh. Patterson, Gerald R., Barbara D. DeBaryshe, and Elizabeth.Ramsey . 1989 A developmental perspective on antisocial behavlOr. Amencan Psychologist 44:329-335. Pickles Andrew and Michael Rutter 1991' Statistical and conceptual models of "turning points" in developmental processes. In David Magnusson, Lars Bergman, Geor? Rudinger, and Bertil Torestad (eds.), Problems and Methods.m Lon- . gitudinal Research: Stability and Change. New York: Cambndge Umversity Press. Rogosa, David, David Brandt, and Michele Zimowski 1982 A growth curve approach to the measurement of change. Psychological Bulletin 92:726-748. Rosenbaum, James . 1984 Career Mobility in a Corporate Hierarchy. Orlando, Fla.: Acadeffilc Press.
Loeber, Rolf and Magda Stouthamer-Loeber 1987 Prediction. In Herbert C. Quay (ed.), Handbook of Juvenile Delinquency. New York: John WHey & Sons.
Rosenfeld, Rachel A. 1992 Job mobility and career processes. Annual Review of Sociology 18:39-6l.
Magnusson, David and Lars R. Bergman 1988 Individual and variable-based approaches to longitudinal research on early risk fadors. In Michael Rutter (ed.), Studies of Psychosocial Risk: The Power of Longitudinal Data. New York: Cambridge University Press. 1990 A pattern approach to the study of pathways from childhood to adulthood. In Lee Robins and Michael Rutter (eds.), Straight and Devious Pathways from Childhood to Adulthood. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Rutter, rvlichael 1987 Psychosocial resilience and protective mechanisms. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry 57:316-333. . 1989a Age as an ambiguous variable in developmental research: Some epdemiological considerations from developmental psychopathology. International Journal of Behavioral Development 12:1-34. 1989b Pathways from childhood to adult life. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 30:23-51.
McAdam, Doug 1989 The biographical consequences of activism. American Sociological Review 54:744-760. Moffitt, Terrie E. 1993 Adolescence-limited and life-course-persistent antisocial behavior: A developmental taxonomy. Psychological Review, in press. Nagin, Daniel and Raymond Paternoster 1991 On the relationship of past and future participation in delinquency. Criminology 29:163-190. 1992 Social capital and social control: The deterrence implications of a theory of individual differences in criminal offending. Unpublished manuscript. Camegie-Mellon University, Pittsburgh.
Rutter, Ivlichael, David Quinton, and Jonathan Hill 1990 Adult outcomes of institution-reared children: Males and females compared. In Lee Robins and Michael Rutter (eds.), Straight and Devious Pathways from Childhood to Adulthood. New York: Cambridge University Press. . ' . Ryder, Norman 1965 The cohort as a concept in the study of Social change. Amencan SOClological Review 30:843-86l. Sampson, Robert J. and John H. Laub . ' 1992 Crime and deviance in the life course. Annual ReVIew of SoclOlogy 18:63-84. 1993 Crime in the Making: Pathways and Turning Points Through Life. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
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Short, James F., Jr. 1990
Gang~1 neighborhoods, and youth crime. Criminal Justice Research Bulletin 5,1-11.
CHAPTER
Short, James E, Jr., and Fred Strodtbeck 1965
VI
Group Process and Gang Delinquency. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Labeling and Deviance
Shover, Neal 1985 Aging Criminals. Beverly Hills, Calli.: Sage. Sullivan, Mercer
1989
"Getting P~id:" :outh Crime and Work in the Inner City Ithaca, N.Y.: Comell Umverslty Press.
Thornberry, Terence P. 1987 Toward an interactional theory of delinquency. Criminology 25,863-891.
nttle, Charles R. Two empirical regula~ties (maybe) in search of an explanation: Commentary on the age-cnme debate. Crinrinology 26:75-86. Tuma, Nancy and Michael Harman 1988
1984 Social Dynamics: Models and Methods. Orlando, PIa.: Academic Press. Vaillant, George
1983 The ~atural History of Alcoholism. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard UniverSIty Press. Wilson, James Q. and Rkhard Hermstein 1985 Crime and Human Nature. New York: Simon & Schuster. Wilson, William Julius 1987 Th~ Truly .Disadv~tage~: The ~er City, the Underclass, and Public Policy. Chicago: Uruverslty of Chicago Press.
The theorists considered in this chapter diverge sharply from the more traditional approaches to deviance we have considered to this point. Taking a more "relativist" position in which societal consensus and stability are not assumed, they focus on the changing and conflicting definitions of the nonns in society and suggest that those of more powerful people may effect changes in individuals' status from nondeviant to deviant Labeling theorists seek to understand three related issues: 1.
2. 3.
What forms of behavior are defined as deviance in society? Who, among the many who deviate, becomes defined as deviant? VVhat are the consequences of stigmatizing certain individuals or activities with a deviant label?
In focusing on these issues, labeling theory deals primarily with what happens to people after they have been singled out, identified, and defined as deviants. The thrust of the argument is that public condemnation may lock an individual into a deviant role, irrespective of interactional influences or society's structural conditions and controlling mechanisms. Labeling theory thus concentrates on the consequences of identifying a person as deviant-a juvenile delinquent, a crook, a junkie, a homosexual, a troublemaker, and so on. One basic prentise of thls approach reaches back to Reading 1, in which Emile Durkheim notes that some people are criminals because a collective definition is attached to them, 110t because of any intrinsic quality of the acts they engage in. What happens to an individual who has been declared to be different or deviant j..,." ,... .... ~;.., ...,4+; ....;"'1
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psychiahists)? Just as important, how do labels alter an individual's self-concept? The answers to such questions incorporate the basic assumptions and research of the labeling approach. No attempt is made in this approach to explain why individuals initially engage in certain actions that may be, or have been, defined as deviant in society. Rather, it stresses the important role of social defini~ons and negative social sanctions in pressuring individuals to engage ID further deviant actions. It uses a "career development" model of deviant behavior whereby deviance is the outcome of a process in which varying stages of initiation, acceptance, commitment, and imprisonment in a deviant role are primarily due to the actions of others. Deviru:ce is therefore not viewed as an objective reality. The designation of deVIance and the stigmatization of a person as a deviant is situational and contingent on the reactions of others toward that person's behavior or status. The main focus of attention in labeling theory is on how others (the "definers") react to individuals or acts that these evaluators perceive in a negative way. It concentrates on the processes involved in making rules, on the context in which they are applied, and on their effects for ~ose singled out as deviant. Thus, by its emphasis on subjective definItions of behavior and their consequences for those who are so labeled labeling theorists further shift attention away from the individual's ac~ tion and toward the ways in which institutionalized processes of social control and social definitions establish what (and who) is deviant. In short, it is the definition of an individual's behavior as deviant, rather than the behavior itself, that can cause a marked change in status that ~ansforrns a person's conception of self and initiates the process of lockmg that person into a "deviant career." In a brief but an eloquent statement from Crime and the Community (Reading 26), Frank Tannenbaum describes a process involving the subtle transference from a definition of acts committed by an individual as evil to the description of the i1ldividual as evil. As a result, most of the behavior of an individual who has been defined as evil comes to be looked on with suspicion. And, as the community's definition of an individual changes from one who occasionally misbehaves to one who is a delinquent, so the person's self-definition changes. Tannenbaum sums it up by noting that "the process of making the criminal, therefore, is a process of tagging, defining, identifying, segregating, describing, emphasizing, making .COnsCIOUS an.d .self-conscious; it becomes a way of stimulating, suggesting, emphaslzmg, and evoking the very traits that are complained of." The selectio~ from Edwin M. Lemert's Social PatllOlogtj (Reading 27) proVIdes the mam thrust and theoTPnr<'l] nnpnbti .... n .... 1= ~h .... l ... 'h ... l: __ -_ •.
377
Labelmg and Deviance
Labeling and Deviance
edive. He describes a process, based on the effects of labeling, that sp . of seIffrom one w h 015 . " normal" transforms an individual's conception into one who has become deviant. . . According to Lemert, individuals may occasIOnally engage m b ehavior that has the potential of being de~ed as deviant .or is so d~fined by others. At this stage, however, ~ere 15 no se~ere soclet~ reactio~ to the individuals themselves as deVIant. Such pnrnary deVIance, which may be the result of a variety of factors, does not ~ffect the individuals' conception of self or their ability to perform SOCIal roles. However, if the societal reaction to their primary deviance becomes severe enough, they may be labeled by others and themselves as deviant persons, Then the opportunity for continuing to play "nor.mal" .social r?les b~cornes disrupted, with adverse effects on both theIr sOCIa~ relatio~hips and their self-conception. Because they have been publIcly defined as abnormal, they may have no other alternative than to t~ke on .the d~Viant role as the basis for organizing their lives. At this pomt, theIr deVIation has become secondary. Their conception of self changes, their opP,ortu_ nity to play conventional roles is limited, and they become more firrnJ.y entrenched in the role of the deviant. For Lemert then, the central concern for labeling theory is not to account for deviance at the primary level. Rather, the process resulting in societal reaction to primary deviance, which in turn produces secon.dary deviance, requires study and explanation. Lemert suggests an ~Ight_ step sequential model of interactions leading to secondary deVIance, which is helpful in demonstrating his conceptual scheme. . The selection from Outsiders, by Howard S. Becker (Readmg 28), also focuses attention on sustained (secondary) rather than occasional (primary) deviance. The crux of Becker's argument is summ~ed in the statement, "One of the most crucial steps in the process of ~ui1ding a stable pattern of deviant behavior is likely to be the expenence of being caught and publicly labeled as a deviant." The effect of this eXpe_ rience is a redefinition of both the person's public identity and private identity. The final step in stabilizing a deviant identity and the indiVid_ ual's own private identity is likely to be movement mto an orgaruzed deviant group. Becker suggests that such groups are, in fact, an outgrowth of the labeling process. A person so labeled may turn to a group for moral support to proVide a rationale for deviance, as.well as. technical support to provide instruction in how to carry on deVIance WIth a illinimum of trouble. In Reading 29, Thomas J. Scheff applies the general principles of labeling theory to an analysis of functional (nonorganic~ men~al diSor_ ders. The distinguishing feature of Scheff's approach 15 the Idea that .
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deviant behavior in society are clearly categorized. For instance, there are concisely delineated terms and categories for norm violations such as crime, prostitution, perversion, homosexuality, and so on. There are, however, other forms of norm violations that do not fit neatly into any specific category. According to Scheff, much of the behavior that comes to be viewed and defined as mental illness falls into this "residual" category. Since the behaviors that constitute mental illness are so anomalous, there is little agreement between both lay people and professionals within the field about the criteria used in deciding what mental illness (and mental health for that matter) is or who is really mentally ill. Nevertheless, labels describing the behavior of "mad" people do exist, and when such a label is applied, especially by professionals in the mental health field, it may have the unintended consequence of firmly entrenching the individual in the role of a "mentally ill" person. In the same way that Lemert identifies the function of labeling in the processes leading from primary to secondary deviance and Becker argues that being publicly labeled as deviant is a crucial step in building a deviant identity, Scheff argues that, because of labeling, mental illness (Le., being viewed as and playing the social role of a mentally ill person) becomes stabilized. In a series of nine propositions, Scheff draws attention to how various social processes operate to create stabilized residual deviance. His theory explicitly states, in Proposition 9, that "labeling is the single most important cause of careers of residual deviance." The Analysis and Critique section on labeling theory is a paper by Milton Mankoff (Reading 30) that takes as its focus of attack the very point made by Scheff and others concerning the significance of labeling as a cause of deviance. Mankoff raises a fundamental question concerning what types of deviance are best explained by labeling theory. His response to this question leads him to conclude that labeling theory does not apply to the great range of deviance that its proponents imply it should, nor is labeling the outstanding factor in deviant careers that they suggest. He cites numerous research findings from the literature on labeling to support his criticism. Among the criticisms of labeling theory raised by Mankoff and others is that research has failed to support the hypotheses that stigmatization may lead to deviance in the first place or further a commitment to deviance if the label is successfuily applied. It is the proposition that labeling creates deviance that has led to both the uniqueness and weakness of labeling theory. This is exactly Mankoff's point in his argument that people engage in deviance (primary deviance) or embark on a deviant career (secondary deviance) without having been singled out, stigmatized, or subjected to mecharusms of social control. What someone is
379
suspected of being, what they have done, or what they may be doing is the major factor in the development of an identity as a deviant. B~hav ior, rather than labeling, is thus the significant independent varIable leading to career deviance that continues the process of stigmatization and identification as a deviant. Mankoff argues that a fascination with the dynamics of labeling has left some sociologists with an overly simplistic, restricted approach. to deviance. He says the labeling model ignores the possibility of genume commitment to deviance on the part of the rule-breaker, minimizes the importance of social and psychological factors other than labelinlS.' and underestimates the successful deterrent effects of social control. TIus latter point is elaborated on further in Chapter Vill, by John Braithwaite (Reading 44), who concentrates on the effects of "reintegrative shaming" as a means of social control. McLorg and Taub's researcl1 (Reading 31) focuses on the central element in labeling theory: stigmatization of primary deviance leadmg to adoption of a deviant identity resulting in secondary deviance or role engulfment. In this ethnographic study of anorexics and bulimics,. the authors examine the links between primary deviance, stigmatization, denial and acceptance of the label, and continued deviance. While biological and psychological factors undoubtedly contribute to the .development of eating disorder, the authors focus primary attention on how various social processes influence self-identification and acceptance of oneself as anorexic or bulirnic. 111ey show how social messages emphasizing that women should be concerned with their weight and ap~ pearance influence many women to become thinner as a m~ans of becoming more attractive and admired. The role models in magazmes, on television, and in the movies depict a very narrow range of female body types that are highly valued. Women exhibiting these physical characteristics are often portrayed as successful and in control of their lives. ~ their attempt to confonn to these images and messages, the women m this study developed an eating disorder. According to McLorg andTaub, at this primary stage their deviance remained transitory, they ~d n?t define themselves as having an eating disorder, and their behavlOr did not affect their ability to interact with others as nondeviant. However, once they began to exhibit symptoms of an eating disorder such as ~a ciation or maintaining a slim figure in spite of ingesting large quantities of food, and they were labeled by family and friends as anorexic or bulimic, their ability to continue to define themselves as nondeviants and perform social roles became difficult. At this secondary stage, ", .. respondents were ascribed a new status with a different set of role expectations." Once they accepted their new identity, their roles changed
an
380
Labeling and Deviance
substantially and efforts directed toward assisting them overcome their "disorder" further alienated these women-resulting in continned deviance and association primarily with other anorexics and bulirnics.
7.6 The Dramatization of Evil FRANK TANNENBAUM In the conflict between the young delinquent and the community there develop two opposing definitions of the situation. In the beginning the definition of the situation by the young delinquent may be in the form of play, adventure, excitement, interest, mischief, fun. Breaking windows, armoying people, running around porches, climbing over roofs, stealing from pushcarts, playing truant-all are items of play, adventure, excitement. To the community, however, these activities may and often do take on the form of a nuisance, evil, delinquency, with the demand for contral, admonition, chastisement, punishment, police court, truant school. This conflict over the situation is one that arises out of a divergence of values. As the problem develops, the situation gradually becomes redetined. The attitude of the community hardens definitely into a demand for suppression. There is a gradual shift from the definition of the specific acts as evil to a definition of the individual as evil, so that all his acts come to be looked upon with suspicion. In the process of identification his companions, hang-outs, play, speech, income, all his conduct, the personality itself, become subject to scrutiny and question. From the community's point of view, the individual who used to do bad and mischievous things has now become a bad and unredeemable human being. From the individual's point of view there has taken place a similar change, He has gone slowly from a sense of grievance and injustice, of being unduly mistreated and punished, to a recognition that the definition of him as a human being is different from that of other boys in his neighborhood, his school, street, community. This recognition on his part becomes a process of self-identification and integration witl"l the group which shares his activities. It becomes, in part, a process of rationalization; in part, a simple response to a specialized type of stimulus. The young delinquent becomes bad because he is detined as bad and because he is not believed if he is good. There is a persistent demand for consistency in character. The community cannot deal with people whom it cannot define. Reputation is this sort of public definition. Once it is established, then unconsciously all agencies combine to maintain this deReprinted from Crime IHnl the Comllliinity, by Frank Tannenballm, Copyright © 1938, Columbia Universitv Prpss_ Flv nf'rmi<;<;inn of jhp nnhli<:.!w ..
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finition even when they apparently and consciously altemp' to deny their own implicit judgment. Early in his career, then, the incipient professional criminal develops an attitude of antagonism to the regulated orderly life that he is required to lead. TIlis attitude is hardened and crystallized by opposition. The conflict becomes a clash of wills. And experience too often has proved that threats, punishments, beatings and commihnents to institutions, abuse and defamation of one sort or another, are of no avail, Punishment breaks down against the child's stubbornness. What has happened is that the child has been defined as an "incorrigible" both by his contacts and by himself, and an attempt at a direct breaking down of will generally fails. The child meets the situation in the only way he can, by defiance and escape---physical escape if possible, or emotional escape by derision, anger, contempt, hatred, disgust, tantrums, destructiveness, and physical violence. The response of the child is just as intelligent and intelligible as that of the schools, of the authorities. They have taken a simple problem, the lack of fitness of an institution to a particular child's needs, and have made a moral issue out of it with values outside the child's ken. It takes on the form of war betvleen hvo wills, and the longer the war lasts, the more certainly does the child become incorrigible. The child will not yield because he cannot yield-his nature requires otl1er channels for pleasant growth; the school system or society will not yield because it does not see the issues involved as between the incompatibility of an institution and a child's needs, sometimes physical needs, and will instead attempt to tw"ist the child's nature to the institution with that consequent distortion of the child which makes an unsocial career inevitable. The verbalization of the conflict in tenns of evil, delinquency, incorrigibillty, badness, arrest, force, punishment, stupidity, lack of intelligence, truancy, criminality, gives the innocent divergence of the child from the straight road a meaning that it did not have in the beginning and makes its continuance in these same terms by so much the more inevitable. The only important fact, when the issue arises of the boy's inability to acquire the specific habits which organized institutions attempt to impose upon him, is that this conflict becomes the occasion for him to acquire another series of habits, interests, and attitudes as a substitute. These habits become as effective in motivating and guiding conduct as would have been those which the orderly routine social institutions attempted to impose had they been acquired. . This conflict gives the gang its hold, because the gang provides eScape, security, pleasure, and peace. The gang also gives room for the ...... nl-nr "rh~rltv
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break up the gang by force merely strengthens it. TI,e arrest of the children has consequences undreamed-of, for several reasons. First, only some of the children are caught though all may be equally guilty. There is a great deal more delinquency practiced and committed by the young groups than comes to the attention of the police. The boy arrested, therefore, is singled out in a specialized treatment. This boy, no more guilty than the other members of his group, discovers a world of which he knew little. His arrest suddenly precipitates a series of institutions, attitudes, and experiences which the other children do not share. For this boy there suddenly appear the police, the patrol wagon, the police station, the other delinquents and criminals found in the police lock-ups, the court with all its agencies such as bailiffs, clerks, bondsmen, lawyers, probation officers. There are bars, cells, handcuffs, :riminals. He is questioned, examined, tested, investigated. His history IS gone into, his family is brought into court. Witnesses make their appearance. The boy, no different from the rest of his gang, suddenly beCOmes the center of a major drama in which all sorts of unexpected characters play important roles. And what is it all about? About the accustomed things his gang has done and has been doing for a long time. In this entirely new world he is made conscious of himself as a different human being than he was before his arrest. He becomes classified as a tI~ef, perhaps, and the entire world about him has suddenly become a different place for him and will remain different for the rest of his life.
THE DRAMATIZATION OF EVIL The first dramatization of the "evil" which separates the child out of hi~ ~oup for specialized treatment plays a greater role in making the crrnunal than perhaps any other experience. It cannot be too often emphasized that for the child the whole situation has become different. He now lives in a different world. He has been tagged. A new and hitherto nonexistent environment has been precipitated out for him. The process of making the criminal, therefore, is a process of tagging, defining, identifying, segregating, describing, emphasizing, makmg conscIOUS and self-conscious; it becomes a way of stimulating, suggesting, emphasizing, and evoking the very traits that are complain~d of. If the theory of relation of response to stimulus has any mearung, the entire process of dealing with the young delinquent is mischievous in so far as it identifies him to himself or the environment as a delinquent person. The person becomes the thing he is described as being. Nor does it seem to matter whf'thf'r thp \f;ll11::1Hnn ;c n'I",A", 1... .. ~h,...,.,,... ••• 1.._ ••• _ •• 1.1 ...
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ish or by those who would reform. In either case the emphasis is upon the conduct that is disapproved of. The parents or the policeman, the older brother or the court, the probation officer or the juvenile institution, in so far as they rest upon the thing complained of, rest upon a false ground. Their very enthusiasm defeats their aim. The harder they work to reform the evil, the greater the evil grows under their hands. The persistent suggestion, with whatever good intentions, works mischief, because it leads to bringing out the bad behavior that it would suppress. The way out is through a refusal to dramatize the eviL The less said about it the better. The more said about something else, still better. The hard-drinker who keeps thinking of not drinking is doing what he can to initiate acts which lead to drinking. He is starting with the stimulus to his habit. To succeed he must find some positive interest or line of action which will inhibit the drinking series and which by instituting another course of action will bring him to his desired end. 1
The dramatization of the evil therefore tends to precipitate the conflict situation which was first created through some innocent maladjushnent. The child's isolation forces him into companionship with other children similarly defined, and the gang becomes his means of escape, his security. The life of the gang gives it special mores, and the attack by the community upon these mores merely overemphasizes the conflict already in existence, and makes it the source of a new series of experiences that lead directly to a criminal career. In dealing with the delinquent, the criminal, therefore, the important thing to remember is that we are dealing with a human being who is responding normally to tile demands, stimuli, approval, expectancy, of the group with whom he is associated. We are dealing not with an individual but with a group. In a study of 6,000 instances of stealing, with reference to the number of
boys involved, it was found Ulat in 90.4 per cent of the cases two or more boys were known to have been involved in the act and were consequenUy brought to court. Only 9.6 per cent of all the cases were acts of Single individuals. Since this study was based upon the number. of boys brought to court, and since in many cases not all of the boys mvolved were caught and brought to court, it is certain that the percentage of group stealing if; therefore even greater than 90.4 per cent. It cannot be doubled that delinquency, particularly stealing, almost invariably involves two or more persons. 2
That group may be small gang, a gang of children just growing up, a gang of young "toughs" of nineteen or twenty, or a gang of older criminal of thirty. If we are not dealing with a gang we may be dealing with r
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may be dealing with a community. In practice all these factors-the family, the gang, and the community-may be important in the development and maintenance of that attitude towards the world which makes a criminal career a normat an accepted and approved way of life. Direct attack upon the individual in these circumstances is a dubious undertaking. By the time the individual has become a criminal his habits have been so shaped that we have a fairly integrated character whose whole career is in tune with the peculiar bit of environment for which he has developed the behavior and habits that cause him to be apprehended. In theory isolation from that group ought to provide occa~1Or: ~or change in the individual's habit structure. It might, if the mdlvldual were transplanted to a group whose values and activities had the approval of the wider community, and in which the newcomer might hope to gain full acceptance eventually. But until now isolation has meant the grouping in close confinement of persons whose strongest common bond has been their socially disapproved delinquent conduct. ll1us the attack cannot be made without reference to group life. The attack must be on the whole group; for only by changing its attitudes and ideals, interests and habits, can the stimuli which it exerts upon the individual be changed. Punishment as retribution has failed to reform, that is, to change character. If the individual can be made aware of a different set of values for which he may receive approval, then we may be on the road to a change in his character. But such a change of values involves a change in stimuli, which means that the criminal's social world must be changed before he can be changed.
NOTES 1. John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1922), p. 35. 2. Clifford R. Shaw and Earl D. Myers, "The Juvenile Delinquent" The IllirlOis Crime Survey, pp. 662-663. Chicago, 1929.
27. Edwin M. Lernert
385
2.1 Primary and Secondary Deviation
EOWIN M. LEMERT SOCIOPATHIC INDIVIDUATION The deviant person is a product of differentiating and isolating processes. Some persons are individually differentiated from others from the time of birth onward, as in the case of a child born with a congenital physical defect or repulsive appearance, and as in the case of a child born into la] minority racial or cultural group. Others persons grow to maturity in a family or in a social class where pauperism, begging, or crime are more or less institutionalized ways of life for the entire group. In these latter instances the person's sociopsychological growth may be normal in every way, his status as a deviant being entirely caused by his maturation within the framework of social organization and culture designated as "pathological" by the larger society. This is true of many delinquent children in our sOciety.l It is a matter of great Significance that the delinquent child, growing up
in the delinquency areas of the city, has very little access to the cultural heritages of the larger conventional society. His infrequent contacts with this larger society are for the most part formal and externaL Quite naturally his conception of moral values is shaped and rnolded by the moral code prevailing in his play groups and the local community in which he lives ... the young delinquent has very little appreciation of the meaning of tile traditions and fonnallaws of society.... Hence the conflict between the delinquent and the agencies of society is, in its broader aspects, a conflict of divergent cultures.
The same sort of gradual, unconscious process which operates in the socialization of the deviant child may also be recognized in the acquisition of socially unacceptable behavior by persons after having reached adulthood. However, with more verbal and sophisticated adults, step-by-step violations of societal norms tend to be progressively rationalized in the light of what is socially acceptable. Changes of this nature can take place at the level of either overt or covert behavior, but with a greater likelihood that adults will preface overt behavior changes with projective symbolic departures from society's norms. When the latter occur, the subsequent overt changes may appear to be "sudden" personality modifications. However, whether these changes are completely radical ones is to some extent a moot point. One writer holds strongly to the opinion that sudden and dramatic shifts in behavior from normal to abnormal are seldom the case, that a sequence of Reprinled from Edwin M. Lemert, Social PatllO/ogy (New York:
McGraw~HiIl
Book Co.,
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Labeling and Deviance
small preparatory transformations must be the prelude to such apparently sudden behavior changes. This writer is impressed by the day-byday growth of "reserve potentialities" within personalities of all individuals, and he contends that many normal persons carry potentialities for abnormal behavior, which, given proper conditions, can easily be called into play.'
PERSONALITY CHANGES NOT ALWAYS GRADUAL This argument is admittedly sound for most cases, but it must be taken into consideration that traumatic experiences often speed up changes in personality.3 Nor can the "trauma" in these experiences universally be attributed to the unique way in which the person conceives of the experience subjectively. Cases exist to show that personality modifications can be telescoped or that there can be an acceleration of such changes caused largely by the intensity and variety of the social stimulation. Most soldiers undoubtedly have entirely different conceptions of their roles after intensive combat experience. Many admit to having "lived a lifetime" in a relatively short period of time after they have been under heavy fire in battle for tile first time. Many generals have remarked that their men have to be a little "shooted" or "blooded" in order to become good soldiers. In the process of group formation, crises and interactional amplification are vital requisites to forging true, role-oriented group behavior out of individuated behavior.4 The importance of the person's conscious symbolic reactions to his or her own behavior cannot be overstressed in explaining the shift from normal to abnormal behavior or from one type of pathological behavior to another, particularly where behavior variations become systematized or structured into pathological roles. This is not to say that conscious choice is a detennining factor in the differentiating process. Nor does it mean that the awareness of the self is a purely conscious perception. Much of the process of self-perception is doubtless marginal from the point of view of consciousness.5 But however it may be perceived, the individual's self-definition is closely connected with such things as selfacceptance, the subordination of minor to major roles, and with the motivation involved in learning the skills, techniques, and values of a new role. Self-definitions or self-realizations are likely to be the result of sudden
perceptions and thet) are especially significant when they are followed immediately by overt demonstrations of the new role they symbolize. The self-defining junctures are critical points of personality genesis and in the special case of the atypical person they mark a division between two different types of deviation.
'17. Edwin M. Lemert
387
PRIMARY AND SECONDARY DEVIATION There has been an embarrassingly large number of theories, often without any relationship to a general theory, advanced to account for various specific pathologies in human behavior. For certain types of pathology, such as alcoholism, crime, or stuttering, there are almost as many theories as there are writers on these subjects. This has been occasioned in no small way by the preoccupation with the origins of pathological behavior and by the fallacy of confusing original causes with effective causes. All such theories have elements of truth, and the divergent viewpoints they contain can be reconciled with the general theory here if it is granted that original causes or antecedents of deviant behaviors are many and diversified. This holds especially for the psychological processes leading to similar pathological behavior, but it also holds for the situational concomitants of the initial aberrant conduct. A person may come to use excessive alcohol not only for a wide variety of subjective reasons but also because of diversified situational influences, such as the death of a loved one, business failure, or participating in some sort of organized group activity calling for heavy drinking of liquor. Whatever the original reasons for violating the norms of the comntunitYt they are important only for certain research purposes, such as assessing the extent of the "social problem" at a given time or determining the requirements for a rational program of social control. From a narrower sociological viewpoint the deyjations are not significant until they are organized subjectively and transformed into active roles and become the social criteria for assigning status. The deviant individuals must react symbolically to their own behavior aberrations and fix them in their sociopsychological patterns. The deviations remain primary deviations or symptomatic and situational as long as they are rationalized or otherwise dealt with as functions of a socially acceptable role. Under such conditions normal and pathological behaviors remain strange and somewhat tensional bedfellows in the same person. Undeniably a vast amount of such segmental and partially integrated pathological behavior exists in our society and has impressed many writers in the field of social pathology. Just how far and for how long a person may go in dissociating his sociopathic tendencies so that they are merely troublesome adjuncts of normally conceived roles is not known. Perhaps it depends upon the number of alternative definitions of the same overt behavior that he can develop; perhaps certain physiological factors (limits) are also involved. However, if the deviant acts are repetitive and have a high visibility, and if there is a severe societal reaction, which, through a process of
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probability is greatly increased that the integration of existing roles will be disrupted and that reorganization based upon a new role Of roles will occur. (The "me" in this context is simply the subjective aspect of the societal reaction.) Reorganization may be the adoption of another normal role in which the tendencies previously defined as "pathological" are given a more acceptable social expression. The other general possibility is the assumption of a deviant role, if such exists; or, more rarely, the person may organize an aberrant sect or group in which he creates a special role of his own. Whm {} person begins to employ his deviant belUlvior 01' a role based UpOl1 it as a lIlearlS of dejense, attack, or adjustment to the overt and covert problellls created by the consequent societaI reaction to him, his deviation is secolldary. Objective evidences of this change will be found in the symbolic appurtenances of the new role, in clothes, speech, posture, and mannerisms, which in some cases heighten social visibility, and which in some cases serve as symbolic cues to professionalization.
ROLE CONCEPTIONS OF THE INDIVIDUAL MUST BE REINFORCED BY REACTIONS OF OTHERS It is seldom that one deviant act will provoke a sufficiently strong societal reaction to bring about secondary deviation, unless in the process of introjection the individual imputes or projects meanings into the social situation which are not present. In this case anticipatory fears are mvolved. For example, in a culture where a chHd is taught sharp distinctions between "good" women and "bad" women, a Single act of questionable morality might conceivably have a profound meaning for the girt 50 indulging. However, in the absence of reactions by the person's family, ne~ghbors, or the larger community, reinforcing the tentative "bad-girl" self-definition, it is questionable whether a transition to secondary deviation would take place. It is also doubtful whether a temporary exposure to a severe punitive reaction by the community will lead a person to identify himself with a pathological role, unless, as we have said, the experience is highly traumatic. Mostfrequentty there is a progressive reciprocal relationship behveen the deviation of the individual and the spcietai reaction, witD- a compounding of the societal reaction out of the minute accretions in the deviant behavior, until a point is reached where ingrouping and outgrouping between society and the deviant is manifest.' At this point a stigmatizing of the deviant occurs in the form of name calling, labeling, or stereotyping. TIle sequence of interaction leading to secondary deviation is roughly as follows: (1) primary deviation; (2) social penalties; (3) further pri-
mary deviation; (4) stronger penalties and rejections; (5) further deviation, perhaps with hostilities and resentment beginning to focus upon those doing the penalizing; (6) crisis reached in the tolerance quotient, expressed in formal action by the community stigmatizing of the deviant; (7) strengthening of the deviant conduct as a reaction to the stigmatizing and penalties; (8) ultimate acceptance of deviant social status and efforts at adjustment on the basis of the associated role. As an illustration of this sequence the behavior of an errant schoolboy can be cited. For one reason or another, let us say excessive energy, the schoolboy engages in a classroom prank. He is penalized for it by the teacher. Later, due to clumsiness, he creates another disturbance and again he is reprimanded. Then, as sometimes happens, the boy is blamed for something he did not do. When the teacher uses the tag "bad boy" or "mischief maker" or other invidious terms, hostility and resentment are excited in the boy, and he may feel that he is blocked in playing the role expected of him. Thereafter, there may be a strong temptation to assume his role in the class as defined by the teacher, particularly when he discovers that there are rewards as well as penalties deriving from such a role. There is, of course, no implication here that such boys go on to become delinquents or criminals, for the mischiefmaker role may later become integrated with or retrospectively ratio· nalized as part of a role more acceptable to school authorities? If such a boy continues this unacceptable role and becomes delinquent, the process must be accounted for in the light of the general theory of this volume. There must be a spreading corroboration of a sociopa thic selfconception and societal reinforcement at each step in the process. The most significant personality changes are manifest when societal definitions and their subjective counterpart become generalized. V/hen this happens, the range of major role choices becomes narrowed to one general class. B This was very obvious in the case of a young girl who was the daughter of a paroled convict and who was attending a small Middle Western college. She continually argued with herself and with the author, in whom she had confided, that in reality she belonged on the" other side of the railroad tracks" and that her life could be enormously simplified by acquiescing in this verdict and living accordingly. While in her case there waS a tendency to dramatize her conflicts, nevertheless there was enough societal reinforcement or her self-conception by the treatment she received in her relationship with her father and on dates 10th coHege boys to lend it a painful reality. Once these boys took her home to the shoddy dwelling in a slum area where she lived with her father, who was often in a drunken condition, they abruptly stopped seeing her again or else became sexually presumptive.
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NOTES 1. Shaw, c., The Natural Histonj of a Delinquent Caree,~ Chicago, 1941, pp. 75-76. Quoted by permission of the University of Chicago Press, Chicago. 2. Brown, L. Guy, Social PatllOlogJj, 1942, pp. 44-45. 3. Allport, G., Personality, A Psycl1010gical Interpretatioll, 1947, p.57. 4. Slavson, S. R., An Introduction to Group PsycllOtllCrapy, 1943, pp.lO, 229ff. 5. Murphy, G., PersortalihJt 1947, p. 482. 6. Mead, G., "The Psychology of Punitive Justice," Americall Jounlal of Sociol-
ogy, 23 March, 1918, pp. 577-602. 7. 8.
Evidence for fixed or inevitable sequences from predelinquency to crime is absent. Sutherland, E. H, Principles of Criminology, 1939, 4th ed., p. 202 Sutherland seems to say something of this sort in connection with the development of criminal behavior. Ibid., p. 86.
28 Ca,.ee,. Deviance HOWARD S. BECKER ... [T]he.normal development of people in our society (and probably in any socIety) can be seen as a series of progressively increasing commitments to conventional norms and institutions. The "normal" person, when he discovers a deviant impulse in himself, is able to check that impulse by thinking of the manifold consequences acting on it would produce for him. He has staked too much on continuing to be normal to allow himself to be swayed by unconventional impulses. This suggests that in looking at cases of intended nonconformity we must ask how the person manages to avoid the impact of conventional commitments. He may do so in one of two ways. First of ali, in the course of growing up the person may somehow have avoided entangling alliances with conventional society. He may, thus, be free to follow his impulses. The person who does not have a reputation to maintain or ~ conventional job he must keep may follow his impulses. He has nothmg staked on continuing to appear conventional. However, most people remain sensitive to conventional codes of conduct and must deal with their sensitivities in order to engage in a deviant act for the first time. Sykes and Matza have suggested that delinReprinted with the permission of The Free Press, a Djvision of Simon & Schuster from
Outsiders: Studies ill ale Sociology afDeviallce by Howurd S. Bed;er. Copyright © 1963 by The Free Press; copyright renewed in 1991 by Howard S. Beeker.
28. Howard S. Becker
391
quents actually feel strong impulses to be law-abiding, and deal with them by techniques of neutralization: "justifications for deviance that are seen as valid by the delinquent but not by the legal system or society at large." They distinguish a number of techniques for neutralizing the force of law-abiding values.
But we are not so much interested in the person who commits a deviant act once as in the person who sustains a pattern of deviance over a long period of time, who makes of deviance a way of life, who organizes his identity around a pattern of deviant behavior. It is not the casual experimenters with homosexuality (who turned up in such surprisingly large numbers in the Kinsey Report) that we want to find out about, but the man who follows a pattern of homosexual activity throughout his adult life. One of the mechanisms that lead from casual experimentation to a more sustained pattern of deviant activity is the development of deviant motives and interests .... Here it is sufficient to say that many kinds of deviant activity spring from motives which are socially learned. Before engaging in the activity on a more or less regular basis, the person has no notion of the pleasures to be derived from it; he learns these in the course of interaction vvith more experienced deviants. He learns to be aware of new kinds of experiences and to think of them as pleasurable. What may well have been a random impulse to try something new becomes a settled taste for something already Imown and experienced. The vocabularies in which deviant motivations are phrased reveal that their users acquire them in interaction with other deviants. The individualleaTHs, in short, to participate in a subculture organized around the particular deviant activity. Deviant motivations have a social character even when most of the activity is carried on in a private, secret, and solitary fashion. In such cases, various media of communication may take the place of face-toface interaction in inducting the individual into the culture .... [P]ornographic pictures ... were described to prospective buyers in a stylized language. Ordinary words were used in a technical shorthand designed to whet specific tastes. The word "bondage," for instance, was used repeatedly to refer to pictures of women restrained in handcuffs or straitjackets. One does not acquire a taste for "bondage photos" without having learned what they are and how they may be enjoyed. One of the most crucial steps in the process of building a stable pattern of deviant behavior is likely to be the experience of being caught and pUblicly labeled as a deviant. Whether a person tal,es this step or
392
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Labeling and Deviance
not depends not so much on what he does as on what other people do, on whether or not they enforce the rule he has violated. Although I will consider the circumstances under which enforcement takes place in SOme detail later, two notes are in order here. First of all, even though no one else discovers the nonconformity or enforces the rules against it, the individual who has committed the impropriety may himself act as enforcer. He may brand himself as deviant because of what he has done and punish himself in one way or another for his behavior. This is not always or necessarily the case, but may occur. Second, there may be cases ill<e those described by psychoanalysts in which the individual really wants to get caught and perpetrates his deviant act in such a way that it is almost sure he will be. In any case, being caught and branded as deviant has important consequences for one's further social participation and self-image. The most important consequence is a drastic change in the individual's public identity. Committing the improper act and being publicly caught at it place him in a new status. He has been revealed as a different kind of person from the kind he Was supposed to be. He is labeled a "fairy," "dope fiend," "nut" or "lunatic," and treated accordingly. In analyzing the consequences of assuming a deviant identity let us make use of Hughes' distinction between master and auxiliary status traits. 1 Hughes notes that most statuses have one key trait which serves to distinguish those who belong from those who do not. Thus the doctor, whatever else he may be, is a person who has a certificate stating that he has fulfilled certain requirements and is licensed to practice medicine; this is the master trait. As Hughes points out, in our society a doctor is also informally expected to have a number of auxiliary traits: most people expect him to be upper middle class, white, male, and Protestant When he is not there is a sense that he has in some way failed to fill the bill. Similarly, though skin calor is the master status trait determining who is Negro and who is white, Negroes are informally expected to have certain status traits and not to have others; people are surprised and find it anomalous if a Negro turns out to be doctor or a college professor. People often have the master status trait but lack some of the auxiliClIJ" informally expected characteristics; for example, one may be a doctor but be female or Negro. Hughes deals with this phenomenon in regard to statuses that are well thought of, desired and desirable (noting that one may have the formal qualifications for entry into a status but be denied full entry because of lack of the proper auxiliary traits), but the same process occurs in the case of deviant statuses. Possession of one deviant trait may have a generalized symbolic value, so that people automatically assume that if-co
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To be labeled a criminal one need only commit a single criminal offense, and this is all the term formally refers to. Yet the word carries a number of cormotations specifying auxiliary traits characteristic of anyone bearing the label. A man who has been convicted of housebreaking and thereby labeled criminal is presumed to be a person likely to break into other houses; the police, in rounding up known offenders for investigation after a crime has been committed, operate on this premise. Further, he is considered likely to commit other kinds of crimes as well, because he has shown himself to be a person without "respect for the law." Thus, apprehension for one deviant act exposes a person to the likelihood that he will be regarded as deviant or undesirable in other respects. There is one other element in Hughes' analysis we can borrow with profit: the distinction between master and subordinate statuses. 2 Some statuses, in our society as in others, override all other statuses and have a certain priority. Race is one of these. Membership in the Negro race, as socially defined, will override most other status considerations in most other situations; the fact that one is a physician or middle class or female will not protect one from being treated as a Negro first and any of these other things second. TIle status of deviant (depending on the kind of deViance) is this kind of master status. One receives the status as a result of breaking a rule, and the identification proves to be more important than most others. One will be identified as a deviant first, before other identifications are made. The question is raised: "What kind of person would break such an important rule?" And the answer is given: "One who is different from the rest of us, who cannot or will not act as a moral human being and therefore might break other important rules." The deviant identification becomes to controlling one. Treating a person as though he were generally rather than specifically deviant produces a self-fulfilling prophecy. It sets in motion several mechanisms which conspire to shape the person in the image people have of him. 3 In the first place, one tends to be cut off, after being identified as deviant, from participation in more conventional groups, even though the specific consequences of the particular deviant activity might never of themselves have caused the isolation had there not also been the public knowledge and reaction to it. For example, being homosexual may not affect one's ability to do office work, but to be known as a homosexual in an office may make it impossible to continue working there. Similarly, though the effects of opiate drugs may not impair one's working ability, to be known as an addict will probably lead to losing one's job. In such cases, the individual finds it difficult to conform to other rules which he had no intention or desire to break, and perforce finds ' . ' __
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28. Howard S. Becker
of a "respectable" job by the discovery of his deviance may drift into unconventional, marginal occupations where it does not make so much difference. The drug addict finds himself forced into other illegitimate kinds of activity, such as robbery and theft, by the refusal of respectable employers to have him around. When the deviant is caught, he is treated in accordance with the popular diagnosis of why he is that way, and the treatment itself may likewise produce increasing deviance. The drug addict, popularly considered to be a weak-willed individual who cannot forgo the indecent pleasures afforded him by opiates, is treated repressively. He is forbidden to use drugs. Since he cannot get drugs legally, he must get them illegally. This forces the market underground and pushes the price of drugs up far beyond the current legitimate market price into a bracket that few can afford on an ordinary salary. Hence the treatment of the addict's deviance places him in a position where it will probably be necessary to resort to deceit and crime in order to support his habit..} The behavior is a consequence of the public reaction to the deviance rather than a consequence of the inherent qualities of the deviant act. Put more generally, the point is that the treatment of deviants denies them the ordinary means of carrying on the routines of everyday life open to most people. Because of this denial, the deviant must of necessity develop illegitimate routines. The influence of public reaction may be direct, as in the instances considered above, or indirect, a consequence of the integrated character of the society in which the deviant lives. Societies are integrated in the sense that social arrangements in one sphere of activity mesh with other activities in other spheres in particular ,vays and depend on the existence of these other arrangements. Certain kinds of work lives presuppose a certain kind of family life.... Many varieties of deviance create difficulties by failing to mesh with expectations in other areas of life. Homosexuality is a case in point. Homosexuals have difficulty in any area of social activity in which the assumption of normal sexual interests and propensities for marriage is made without question. In stable work organizations such as large business or industrial organizations there are often points at which the man who would be successful should marry; not to do so will make it difficult for him to do the things that are necessary for success in the organization and will thus thwart his ambitions. The necessity of marrying often creates difficult enough problems for the normal male, and places the homosexual in an almost impossible position. Similarly, in some male work groups where heterosexual prowess is required to retain esteem in the group, the homosexual has obvious difficulties. Failure to meet the expectations of others may force the individual to attempt de~.; ........ ~
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Obviously, everyone caught in one deviant act and labeled a deviant does not move inevitably toward greater deviance in the way the preceding remarks might suggest. The prophecies do not always confirm themselves, the mechanisms do not always work. What factors tend to slow down or halt the movement toward increasing deviance? Under what circumstances do they come into play? One suggestion as to how the person may be immunized against increasing deviance is found in a recent study of juvenile delinquents who "hustle" homosexuals.s These boys act as homosexual prostitutes to confirmed adult homosexuals. Yet they do not themselves become homosexual. Several things account for their failure to continue this kind of sexual deviancy. First, they are protected from police action by the fact that they are minors. If they are apprehended in a homosexual act, they will be treated as exploited children, although in fact they are the exploiters; the law makes the adult guilty. Second, they look on the homosexual acts they engage in simply as a means of making money that is safer and quicker than robbery or similar activities. Third, the standards of their peer group, while permitting homosexual prostitution, allow only one kind of activity, and forbid them to get any special pleasure out of it or to pennit any expressions of endearment from the adult with whom they have relations. Infractions of these rules, or other deviations from normal heterosexual activity, are severely punished by the boy's fellows. Apprehension may not lead to increasing deviance if the situation in which the individual is apprehended for the first time occurs at a point where he can still choose between alternate lines of action. Faced, for the first time, with the possible ultimate and drastic consequences of what he is doing, he may decide that he does not want to take the deviant road, and turn back. If he makes the right choice, he will be welcomed back into the conventional community; but if he makes the wrong move, he will be rejected and start a cycle of increasing deviance. Ray has shown, in the case of drug addicts, how difficult it can be to reverse a deviant cycle. 6 He points out that drug addicts frequently attempt to cure themselves and that the motivation underlying their attempts is an effort to show nonaddicts whose opinions they respect that they are really not as bad as they are thought to be. On breaking their habit successfully, they find, to their dismay, that people still treat them as though they were addicts (on the premise, apparently, of "once a junkie, always a junkie"). A final step in the career of a deviant is movement into an organized deviant group. When a person makes a definite move into an organized group-or when he realizes and accepts the fact that he has ... 1......... ..I~ • ..1 ..... _'"'
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self. A drug addict once told me that the moment she felt she was really "hooked" was when she realized she no longer had any friends who were not drug addicts. Members of organized deviant groups of course have one thing in common: their deviance. It gives them a sense of common fate, of being in the same boat. From a sense of common fate, from having to face the same problems, grows a deviant subculture: a set of perspectives and understandings about what the world is like and how to deal with it, and a set of routine activities based on those perspectives. Membership in such a group solidifies a deviant identity. Moving into an organized deviant group has several consequences for the career of the deviant. First of all, deviant groups tend, more than deviant individuals, to be pushed into rationalizing their position. At an extreme, they develop a very complicated historical, legal, and psychological justification for their deviant activity. The homosexual community is a good case. Magazines and books by homosexuals and for homosexuals include historical articles about famous homosexuals in history. They contain legal articles on the biology and physiology of sex, designed to show that homosexuality is a "normal" sexual response. They contain legal articles, pleading for civil liberties for homosexuals? Taken together, this material provides a working philosophy for the active homosexual, explaining to hinl why he is the way he is, that other people have also been that way, and why it is all right for him to be that way. Most deviant groups have a self-justifying rationale (or "ideology"), although seldom is it as well worked out as that of the homosexual. 'WhUe such rationales do operate, as pointed out earlier, to neutralize the conventional attitudes that deviants may still find in themselves toward their own behavior, they also perform another function. They furnish the individual with reasons that appear sound for continuing the line of activity he has begun. A person who quiets his own doubts by adopting the rationale moves into a more principled and consistent kind of deviance than was possible for him before adopting it. The second thing that happens when one moves into a deviant group is that he learns how to carry on his deviant activity with a minimum of trouble. All the problems he faces in evading enforcement of the rule he is breaking have been faced before by others. Solutions have been worked out. Thus, the young thief meets older thieves who, more experienced than he is, explain to him how to get rid of stolen rnercl1andise without running the risk of being caught. Every deviant group has a great stock of lore on such subjects and the new recruit learns it quickly. Thus, the deviant who enters an organized and institutionalized deH;~""~
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has learned, on the one hand, how to avoid trouble and, on the other hand, a rationale for continuing. , . One further fact deserves mention. The ratIonales of deVIant groups tend to contain a general repudiation of conventional moral rules, conventional institutions, and the entire conventional world.
NOTES Everett C. Hughes, "Dilemmas and Contradictions of Status," American
1.
Journa! of Sociolol'J, L (March, 1945),353-359. 2. Ibid. . Ad 3. See Marsh Ray, "The Cycle of Abstinence and Relapse Among Herotn diets," So cia! Problems, 9 (Fall, 1961), 132-140. .
4. See Dntg Addiction: Crime 01" Disease? Interim and Final Re~ort5Mol thdealJOlnt Committee of the American Bar Association and the Amencan e lC Association on Narcotic Drugs {Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1961). " . 5. Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "The Social Integration of Queers and Peers, Soc1Ol Problems,9 (Fall, 1961), 102-120.
6. Ray, op. cit. . 7, One and The Mattachille Review are magazines of this type that I have seen.
of the Mentally III and the Dynamics of Mental Disorder: A Research Framework
29 The Role
THOMAS]. SCHEFF Although the last two decades have seen a vast increase in the nurn~er of studies of functional mental disorder, there is as yet no substantial, verified body of knowledge in fhis area. A quotation from a recent symposium on schizophrenia summarizes the present sItuatlon: During the past decade, the problems of chronic s~~pJ:renia have claimed the energy of workers in many fields. DespIte s1gnificant contributions which reflect continuing progress, we have yet to learn to ask ourselves the right questions. 1 Reprinted from ThomasJ. Scheff, "The Role of the Mentally mand the Dynamics of Mental Disorder," Sociametn;, vol 26, 1963, pp. 436-453. This project was supported in part by the Graduate Research C?nunittee of th~ ~ni~ versity of Wisconsin. The help of many persons, too numerous to list here, who cnti~ •
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398
Labeling and Deviance
Many investigators apparently agree; systematic studies have not only failed to provide answers to the problem of causation, but there is considerable feeling that the problem itself has not been formulated correctly. One frequently noted deficiency in psychiatric formulations of the problem is the failure to incorporate social processes into the dynamics of mental disorder. Although the importance of these processes is increasingly recognized by psychiatrists, the conceptual models used in formulating research questions are basically concerned with individual rather than social systems. Genetic, biochemical, and psychological investigations seek different causal agents, but utilize simllar models: dynamic systems which are located within the individual. In these investigations, social processes tend to be relegated to a subsidiary role, because the model focuses attention on individual differences, rather than on the social system in which the individuals are involved. Recently a number of writers have sought to develop an approach which would give more emphasis to social processes. Lemert, Erikson, Goffman, and Szasz have notably contributed to this approach.2 Lemert, particularly, by rejecting the more conventional concern with the origins of mental deviance, and stressing instead the potential importance of the so~ietal reaction in stabilizing deviance, focuses primarily on mechanisms of social control. 'The work of all these authors suggests research avenues which are analytically separable from questions of individual systems and point, therefore, to a theory which would incorporate social processes. 'The purpose of the present paper is to contribute to the formulation of such a theory by stating a set of nine propositions which make up basic assumptions for a social system model of mental disorder. This set is largely derived from the work of the authors listed above, all but two of the propositions (No. 4 and No. 5.) being suggested, with varying degrees of explicitness, in the cited references. By stating these propositions explicitly, this paper attempts to facilitate testing of basic assumptions, all of which are empirically unverified, or only partly verified. By stating these assumptions in terms of standard sociological concepts, this paper attempts to show the relevance to studies of mental disorder of findings from diverse areas of social science, such as race relations and prestige suggestion. This paper also delineates three problems which are crucial for a sociological theory of mental disorder: what are the conditions in a culture under which diverse kinds of deviance become stable and uniform; to what extent, in different phases of careers of mental patients, are symptoms of mental illness the result of conforming behavior; is there a general set of contingencies which lead to the definitinn nf
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this paper attempts to formulate special conceptual tools to deal with these problems, which are directly linked to sociological theory. The social institution of insanity, residual deviance, the social role of the mentally ill, and the bifurcation of the societal reaction into the alternative reactions of denial and labeling are examples of such conceptual tools. These conceptual tools are utilized to construct a theory of mental disorder in which psychiatric symptoms are considered to be violations of social norms, and stable "mental illness" to be a social role. The validity of this theory depends upon verification of the nine propositions listed below in future studies, and should, therefore, be applied with caution, and with appreciation for its limitations. One such limitation is that the theory attempts to account for a much narrower class of phenomena than is usually found under the rubric of mental disorder; the discussion that follows will be focused exclusively on stable or recurring mental disorder, and does not explain the causes of single deviant episodes. A second major limitation is that the theory probably distorts the phenomena under discussion. Just as the individual system models under-stress social processes, the model presented here probably exaggerates their importance. The social system model "holds constant" individual differences, in order to articulate the relationship between society and mental disorder. Ultimately, a framework which encompassed both individual and social systems would be desirable. Given the present state of knowledge, however, this framework may prove useful by providing an explicit contrast to the more conventional medical and psychological approaches, and thus assisting in the formulation of sociological studies of mental disorder.
THE SYMPTOMS OF "MENTAL ILLNESS" AS RESIDUALLY DEVIANT BEHAVIOR One source of immediate embarrassment to any social theory of "mental illness" is that the terms used in referring to these phenomena in our society prejudge the issue. The medical metaphor "mental illness" suggests a determinate process which occurs within the individual: the unfolding and development of disease. It is convenient, therefore, to dr~p terms derived from the disease metaphor in favor of a standard SOCIOlogical concept, deviant behavior, which signifies behavior that violates a social norm in a given society. If the symptoms of mental illness are to be construed as violations of social norms, it is necessary to specify the type of norms involved. Most norm violations do not cause the violator to be labeled as mentally ill, ,
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depending on the type of norm involved. There are innumerable nonns, however, over which consensus is so complete that the members of a group appear to take them for granted. A host of such norms surround even the simplest conversation: a person engaged in conversation is expected to face toward his partner, rather than directly away from him; if his gaze is toward the partner, he is expected to look toward his eyes, rather than, say, toward his forehead; to stand at a proper conversational distance, neither one inch away nor across the roOID, and so on. A person who regularly violated these expectations probably would not be tllought to be merely ill-bred, but as strange, bizarre, and frightening, becaUSe his behavior violates the assumptive world of the group, the world that is construed to be the only one that is natural, decent, and possible. The culture of the group provides a vocabulary of terms for categorizing many norm violations: crime, perversion, drunkenness, and bad manners are familiar examples. Each of these terms is derived from the type of norm broken, and ultimately, from the type of behaviar invol.ved. After exhausting these categories, however, there is always a resIdue of the most diverse kinds of violations, for which the culture pro:rides no explicit labeL For example, although there is great cultural vanation in what is defined as decent or real, each culture tends to reify it~ definition of decency and reality, and so provide no way of handling VIolations of its expectations in these areas. The typical norm governing decency or reality, therefore, literally "goes without saying" and its violation is unthinkable for most of its members. For the convenience of the society in construing those instances of unnamable deviance which are c~lled to its attention, these violations may be lumped together into a reSidual category: witchcraft, spirit possession, or, in our own society, mental illness. In this paper, the diverse kinds of deviation for which our society provides no explicit label, and which, therefore, sometimes lead to the labeling of the violator as mentally ill, will be considered to be technically residual deviance.
THE ORIGINS, PREVALENCE AND COURSE OF RESIDUAL DEVIANCE The first proposition concerns the origins of residual deviance. 1. Residual deviance arises from fttnda11lentally diverse sources. It has been demonstrated that some types of mental disorder are the result of organic causes. It appears likely,-therefore, that there are genetic, biochemical or physiolOgical origins fmo-residual deviance. It also appears that resid11::11 ripui::1nro .... "'n "' ..;"'''' h-n-n--> : .... .-:Ih.:...:I •• ~l __ •• _\..~l __ ; __ l ____ 1'_ ..1':._ . _ 1
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from differences in upbringing and training. Residual deviance can also probably be produced by various kinds. of ~xternal stress: the sustained fear and hardship of combat, and depnvation of food, sleep, and even sensory experience.] Residual deviance, finally, can be a volitional act of innovation or defiance. The kinds of behavior deemed typical of mental illness, such as hallucinations, delusions, depression, and mania, can all arise from these diverse sources. The second proposition concerns the prevalence of residual deviance which is analogous to the "total" or "true" prevalence of mental disorder (in contrast to the "treated" prevalence). 2. ~eIati~e to the rate,ajtreated 11/enial illness, the rate of Iltzrecorded residual deVlmtCe IS extremely lugh. There is evidence that grossly deviant behavior is often not noticed or, if it is noticed, it is rationalized as eccentricity. Apparently, many persons who are extremely withdravm, or who "fly off the handle" for ~xtended p~ riods of time who imagine fantastic events, or who hear VOIces or see VI4 sions are no~ labeled as insane either by themselves or others. Their deviance, rather, is unrecognized, ignored, or rationalize~. This pattern of inattention and rationalization will be called "denial."'J In addition to the kind of evidence cited above there are a number of epidemiological studies of total prevalence. ~here are n~e~o~s pro~ lems in interpreting the results of these studIes; the major dIfficulty IS that the definition of mental disorder is different in each study, as are the methods used to screen cases. These studies represent, however, the best available information and can be used to estimate total prevalence. A convenient summary of findings is presented in Plunkett and Gordon.6 This source compares the methods and populations used in eleven field studies, and lists rates of total prevalence (in percentages) as 1.7,3.6,4.5,4.7,5.3,6.1,10.9,13.8,23.3,23.3, and 33.3. How do these total rates compare with the rates of treated mental disorder? One of the studies cited by Plunkett and Gordon, the Baltimore study reported by Pasamanick, is useful in this regard since it includes both treated and untreated rates. 7 As compared with the untreated rate of 10.9 per cent, the rate of treatment in state, VA, and private hospitals of Baltimore residents was .5 per cent. 5 That is, for every mental patient there were approximately 20 untreated cases located by the survey. It is possible that the treated rate is too I.ow, however, since patients treated by private physicians were not mcluded. Judging from another study, the New Haven study of treated prevalence, the number of patients treated in private practice is small co~ pared to those hospitalized: over 70 per cent of t~e patien~5 l~cated In that study were hospitalized even though extenSIVe case-h.ndmg techniques were employed. The over-all treated prevalence tn the New ,
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with my estimate of .7 per cent for the Baltimore study9 If we accept .8 per cent as an estimate of the upper limit of treated prevalence for the Pasamanick study, the ratio of treated to untreated cases is 1/14. That is, for every treated patient we should expect to find 14 untreated cases in the community. One interpretation of this finding is that the untreated patients in the community represent those cases with less severe disorders, while those patients with severe impairments all fall into the treated group. Some of the findings in the Pasamanick study point in this direction. Of the untreated patients, about half are classified as suffering from minimal impairment. At least a fourth of the untreated group, then, involved very mild disorders. ID The evidence for the group diagnosed as psychotic does not support this interpretation, however. Almost all of the cases diagnosed as psychotic were judged to involve severe impairment yet half of the diagnoses of psychosis occurred in the untreated group. In other words, accorcling to this study there were as many untreated as treated Cases of psychoses. ll On the basis of the high total prevalence rates cited above and other evidence, it seems plausible that residual deviant behavior is usually transitory, which is the substance of the third proposition. 3. Most residual deviance is "denied" and is transiton;. The high rates of total prevalence suggest that most residual deviancy is unrecognized or rationalized away. For this type of deviance, which is amorphous and uncrystallized, Lemert uses the term "primary deviation."l1 Balint describes similar behavior as "the unorganized phase of illness."13 Although Balint assumes that patients in this phase ultimately "settle down" to an "organized illness," other outcomes are pOSSible. A person in this stao-e may "organize" his deviance in other than illness terms, e.g. as ;ccentricity or genius, or the deviant acts may terminate when situational stress is removed. The experience of battlefield psychiatrists can be interpreted to support the hypotheSis that residual deviance is usually transitory. Glass reports that combat neurosis is often self-terminating if the soldier is kept with his unit and given only the most superficial medical attention.I.! Descriptions of child behavior can be interpreted in the same wa~. According to these reports, most children go through periods in which at least several of the fOllowing kinds of deviance may occur: temper tantrums, head banging, scratching, pinching, biting, fantasy playmates or pets, illusory physical complaints, and fears of sounds, shapes, colors, persons, animals, darkness, weather, ghosts, and 50 on.tS In the vast majority of instances, however, these behavior patterns do
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If residual deviance is highly prevalent among ostensibly "normal" persons and is usually transitory, as suggested by the last two propositions, what accounts for the small percentage of residual deviants who go on to deviant careers? To put the question another way, under what conditions is residual deviance stabilized? The conventional hypothesis is that the answer lies in the deviant himself. The hypothesis suggested here is that the most important single factor (but not the only factor) in the stabilization of residual deviance is the societal reaction. Residual deviance may be stabilized if it is defined to be evidence of mental illness, and/or the deviant is placed in a deviant status, and begins to play the role of the mentally ill. In order to avoid the implication that mental disorder is merely role-playing and pretense, it is first necessary to discuss the sodal institution of insanity.
SOCIAL CONTROL: INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIAL SYSTEMS OFBEHAVIOR in The Myth of Mental Illness, 5zasz proposes that mental disorder be viewed within the framework of "the game-playing model of human behavior." He then describes hysteria, schizophrenia, and other mental disorders as the "impersonation" of sick persons by those whose "real" problem concerns "problems of living." Although Szasz states that roleplaying by mental patients may not be completely or even mostly voluntary, the implication is that mental disorder be viewed as a strategy chosen by the individual as a way of obtaining help from others. Thus, the term "impersonation" suggests calculated and deliberate shamming by the patient. In his comparisons of hysteria, malingering and cheating, although he notes differences between these behavior patterns, he suggests that these differences may be mostly a matter of whose point of view is taken in describing the behavior. The present paper also uses the role-playing model to analyze mental disorder, but places more emphaSis on the involuntary aspects of role-playing than Szasz, who tends to treat role-playing as an individual system of behavior. In many social psychological discussions, however, role-playing is considered as a part of a social system. TIle individual plays his role by articulating his behavior with the cues and actions of other persons involved in the transaction. The proper performance of a role is dependent on having a cooperative audience. This proposition may also be reversed: having an audience which acts toward the individual in a uniform way may lead the actor to play the expected role even if he is not particularly interested in doing so. The "baby of the ,
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cues and actions which confronts him in the family may lock in with his own vocabulary of responses so that it is inconvenient and difficult for him not to play the part expected of him. To the degree that alternative roles are closed off. the proffered role may come to be the only way the individual can cope with the situation. One of Szasz's very apt formulations touches upon the social systemic aspects of role-playing. He draws an analogy between the role of the mentally ill and the "type-casting" of actors,I6 Some actors get a reputation for playing one type of role, and find it difficult to obtain other roles. Although they may be displeased, they may also come to incorporate aspects of the type-cast role into their self-conceptions, and ultimately into their behavior. Findings in several social psychological studies suggest that an individual's role behavior may be shaped by the kinds of "deference" that he regularly receives trom others. 17 One aspect of the voluntariness of role-playing is the extent to which the actor believes in the part he is playing. Although a role may be played cynically, with no belief, or completely sincerely, with wholehearted belief, many roles are played on the basis of an intricate mixture of belief and disbelief. During the course of a study of a large public mental hospital, several patients told the author in confidence about their cynical use of their symptoms-to frighten new personnel, to escape from unpleasant work details, and so on. Yet these same patients, at other times, appear to have been sincere in their symptomatic behavior. Apparently it was sometimes difficult for them to tell whether they were playing the role or the role was playing them. Certain types of symptomatology are quite interesting in this connection. In simulatiop. of previous psychotic states, and in the behavior pattern known to psychiatrists as the Ganser syndrome, it is apparently almost impossible for the observer to separate feigning of symptoms from involuntary acts with any degree of certainty.IS In accordance vvith what has been said so far, the difficulty is probably that the patient is just as confused by his own behavior as is the observer. This discussion suggests that a stable role performance may aris~ when the actor's role imagery locks in with the type of "deference" which he regularly receives. An extreme example of this process may be taken from anthropological and medical reports concerning the "dead role," as in deaths attributed to "bone-pointing." Death from bone-pointing appears to arise from the conjunction of MO fundamental processe,s which characterize all social behavior. First, all individuals continually orient themselves by means of responses which are perceived in social interaction: the individual's identity and continuity of experience are dependent on these cues}9 Secondly, the individual has his own vocab111"'1"'11
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Witll or be in conflict with the sanctions to which he is exposed. Entry into a role may be complete when this role is part of the individual's expectations, and when these expectations are reaffinned in social interaction. In the following pages this principle will be applied to the problem of the causation of mental disorder. What are the beliefs and practices that constitute the social institution of insanity?2.0 And how do they figure in the development of mental disorder? Two propositions concerning beliefs about mental disorder in the general public Mll now be considered. 4. Stereohjped imagery of mental disorder is leamed in early childhood. Although there are no substantiating studies in this area, scattered observations lead the author to conclude that children learn a considerable amount of imagery concerning deviance very early, and that much of the imagery comes from their peers rather than from adults. The literal meaning of "crazy," a term now used in a wide variety of contexts, is probably grasped by children during the first years of elementary school. Since adults are often vague and evasive in their responses to questions in this area, an aura of mystery surrounds it. In this socialization the grossest stereotypes which are heir to childhood fears, e.g., of the "boogie man," survive. These conclusions are quite speculative, of course, and need to be investigated systematically, possibly with techniques similar to those used in studies of the early learning of racial stereotypes. Assuming, however, that this hypothesis is sound, what effect does early learning have on the shared conceptions of insanity held in the corrununity? There is much fallacious material learned in early childhood which is later discarded when more adequate information replaces it. This question leads to hypothesis no. 5. 5. The stereohjpes of insanity are continually reaffirmed, illadvertelltly, ill ordillnnj social illteraction. Although many adults become acquamted with medical concepts of mental illness, the traditional stereotypes are not discarded, but continue to exist alongside the medical conceptions, because the stereotypes receive almost continual support from the mass media and in ordinary social discourse. In newspapers, it is a common practice to mention that a rapist or a murderer was once a mental patient. l1tis negative information, however, is seldom offset by positive reports. An item like the following is almost conceivable: Mrs. F-alph Janes, an ex-mental patient, was elected president of the Fairview Home and Garden Society in their meeting last Thursday.
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it has been demonstrated that the incidence of crimes of violence, or of any crime, is much lower among ex-mental patients than among the general popuIation. 21 Yet, this is not the picture presented to the public. Reaffirmation of the stereotype of insanity occurs not only in the mass media, but also in ordinary conversation, in jokes, anecdotes, and even in conventional phrases. Such phrases as I~re you crazy?" or "It would be a madhouse," "It's driving me out of my mind," or "It's driving me distracted," and hundreds of others occur frequently in informal conversations. In this usage insanity itself is seldom the topic of conversation; the phrases are so much a part of ordinary language that only the person who considers each word carefully can eliminate them from his speech. Through verbal usages the stereotypes of insanity are a relatively permanent part of the social structure. In a recent study Nunnally demonstrated that reaffirmation of stereotypes occurs in the mass media. In a systematic and extensive content analysis of television, radio, newspapers and magazines, including "confession" magazines, they found an image of mental disorder presented which was overwhelmingly stereotyped. ... media presentations emphasized the bizarre symptoms of the mentally ill. For example, information relating to Factor I (the conception that mentally ill persons look and act different from "normal" people) was recorded 89 times. Of these, 88 affirmed the factor, that is, indicated or suggested that people with mental-health problems "look and act different": only one item denied Factor L In television dramas, for example, the afflicted person often enters the scene staring glassy-eyed, with his mouth widely ajar, mumbling incoherent phrases or laughing uncontrollably. Even in what would be considered the milder disorders, neurotic phobias and obsessions, the afflicted person is presented as having bizarre facial expression and actions.
DENIAL AND LABELING According to the analysis presented here, the traditional stereotypes of mental disorder are solidly entrenched in the population because they are learned early in childhood and are continuously reaffirmed in the mass media and in everyday conversation. How do these beliefs function in the processes leading to mental disorder? This question will be considered by first referring to the earlier discussion of the societal reaction to residual deviance. It was stated that the usual reaction to residual deviance is denial, and U1at in these cases most residual deviance is transitory. The societal reaction to deviance is not'always denial, however. In a small proportion of ('asps thp rPArnnn anpc;: ~hp nthpr '''''~lr pv~aa"'r::>t-1n.-.- ::>nrl ",t t-1 ........ oa .-'1;<,_
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tOIting the extent and degree of deviation. This pattern of exaggeration, whldl we will call "labeling:' has been noted by Garfinkel in his discussion of the "degradation" of officially recognized crirninals.23 Goffman makes a similar point in his description of the "discrediting" of mental patients. 24. Apparently under some conditions the societal reaction to deviance is to seek out signs of abnormality in the deviant's history to show that he was always essentially a deviant. The contrasting social reactions of denial and labeling provide a means of answering MO fundamental questions. If deviance arises from diverse sources-physical, psychological, and situational-how does the uniformity of behavior that is associated with insanity develop? Secondly, if deviance is usually transitory, how does it become stabilized in those patients who became chronically deviant? To summarize, what are the sources of uniformity and stability of deviant behavior. In the approach taken here the answer to this question is based on hypotheses Nos. 4 and 5, that the role imagery of insanity is learned early in childhood, and is reaffirmed in social interaction. In a crisis, when the deviance of an individual becomes a public issue, the traditional stereotype of insanity becomes the guiding imagery for action, both for those reacting to the deviant and, at times, for the deviant himself. When societal agents and persons around the deviant react to him uniformly in terms of the traditional stereotypes of insanity, his amorphous and unstructured deviant behavior tends to crystallize in conformity to these expectations, thus becoming similar to the behavior of the other deviants classified as mentally ill, and stable over time. The process of becoming uniform and stable is completed when the traditional imagery becomes a part of the deviant's orientation for guiding his own behavior. The idea that cultural stereotypes may stabilize primary deviance, and tend to produce uniformity in symptoms, is supported by crosscultural studies of mental disorder. Although some observers insist there are underlying similarities, most agree that there are enormous differences in the manifest symptoms of stable mental disorder betwee/l societies, and great similarity within societies.25 These considerations suggest that the labeling process is a crucial contingency in most careers of residual deviance. Thus Glass, who observed that neuropsychiatric casualties may not become mentally ill if they are kept with their unit, goes on to say the military experience with psychotherapy has been disappointing. Soldiers who are removed from their unit to a hospital, he states, often go on to become chronically impaired. 26 That is, tlleir deviance is stabilized by the labeling process, which is implicit in their removal and hospitalization. A similar inter..... ~ ... ~ ... .s.-; ............ .., ... 1.. ........ ..,.-1 .... 1-. ........................... ; ..... ...-
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orders among Mexican-Americans with those of "Anglo" children. Childhood disorders such as Sl/sto (an illness believed to result from fright) sometimes have damaging outcomes in Mexican-American childrenP Yet the deviant behavior involved is very similar to that which seems to have high incidence among Anglo children, with permanent
impairment virtually never occurring. Apparently through cues n-om his elders the Mexican-American child, behaving initially much like his
Anglo counterpart, learns to enter the sick role, at times with serious consequences. 28
ACCEPTANCE OF THE DEVIANT ROLE From this point of view, then, most mental disorder can be considered to be a social role. This social role complements and reflects the status of the insane in the social structure. It is through the social processes which maintain the status of the insane that the varied deviancies from which mental disorder arises are made uniform and stable. The stabilization and uniformization of residual deviance are completed when the deviant accepts the role of the insane as the framework within which he organizes his own behavior. Three hypotheses are stated below which suggest some of the processes which cause the deviant to accept such a stigmatized role. 6. Labeled deviants may be rewarded for playing tlte stereoh}ped devim1t role. Ordinarily patients who display "insight" are rewarded by psychiatrists and other personnel. That is, patients who manage to find evidence of "their illness" in their past and present behavior, confinning the medical and societal diagnosis, receive benefits. This pattern of behavior is a special case of a more general pattern that has been called the "apostolic function" by Balint, in which the physician and others inadvertently cause the patient to display symptoms of the illness the physician thinks the patient has." Not only physicians but other hospital personnel and even other patients reward the deviant for conforming to the stereotypes.3D 7. Labeled deviants are punished when they attempt the return to CO/lverztional roles. The second process operative is the systematic blockage of entry to nondeviant roles once the label has been publicly applied. Thus the ex-mental patient, although he is urged to rehabilitate himself in the community, usually finds himself discriminated against in seeking to return to his old status, and on trying to find a new one in the occupational, marital, social, and other spheres. 31 Thus, to a degree, the labeled deviant is rewarded for deviating, and punished for attempting to confonn.
409
8. lit the crisis occurril1g when a primary deviant is publicly labeled, the deviant is highly suggestible, and may accept the proffered role of the insalle as the ollly alternative. When gross deviancy is publicly recognized and made an issue, the primary deviant may be profoundly confused, anxious, and ashamed. In this crisis it seems reasonable to assume that the deviant will be suggestible to the cues that he gets from the reactions of others toward him.32 But those around him are also in a crisis; the incomprehensible nature of the deviance, and the seeming need for immediate action lead them to take collective action against the deviant on the basis of the attitude which all share-the traditional stereotypes of insanity. The deviant is sensitive to the cues provided by these others and begins to think of himself in terms of the stereotyped role 01 insanity, which is part of his own role vocabulary also, since he, like those reacting to him, learned it early in childhood. In this situation his behavior may begin to follow the pattern suggested by his own stereotypes and the reactions of others. That is, when a primary deviant organizes his behavior vvithin the framework of mental disorder, and when his organization is validated by others, particularly prestigeful others such as physicians, he is "hooked" and will proceed on a career of chronic deviance. The role of suggestion is noted by Warner in his description of bonepointing magic: The effect of (the suggestion of the entire community on the victim) is obviously drastiC. An analogous situation in our society is hard .to imagine. If all a man's near kin, his father, mother, brothers and SISters, wife, children, business associates, friends and all the other members of society, should suddenly withdraw themselves because of some dramatic circumstance, refusing to take any attitude but one of taboo ... and then perform over him a sacred ceremony.:.the en~rmous su.ggeslive power of this movement. .. of the communIty after It has had Its attitudes (toward the victim) crystallized can be somewhat understood by ourselves.}3 If we substitute for black magic the taboo that usually accompanies mental disorder, and consider a commitment proceeding or even mental hospital admission as a sacred ceremony, the similarity between Warner's description and the typical events in the development of mental disorder is considerable. The last three propositions suggest that once a person has been placed in a deviant status there are rewards for conforming to the deviant role, and plmishments for not conforming to the deviant role. This is not to imply, however, that the symptomatic behavior of persons occupying a deviant status is always a manifestation of conforming behavior. To explain this point, some discussion of the process of ,.
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In a recent discussion of the process of self-control, Shibutani notes that self-control is not automatic, but is an intricate and delicately balanced process, sustainable only under propitious circumstances. 3.J: He points out that fatigue, the reaction to narcotics, excessive excitement or tension (such as is generated in mobs), or a number of other conditions interfere with self-control; conversely, conditions which produce normal bodily states, and deliberative processes such as symbolization and imaginative rehearsal before action, facilitate it. One might argue that a crucially important aspect of imaginative rehearsal is the image of himself that the actor projects into his fuhlre action. Certainly in American society, the cultural image of the "normal" adult is that of a person endowed with self-control ("willpower," "backbone," "strength of character," etc.). For the person who sees himself as endowed with the trait of self-control, self-control is facilitated, since he can imagine himself enduring stress during his imaginative rehearsal, and also while under actual stress. For a person who has acquired an image of himself as lacking the ability to control his own actions, the process of self-control is likely to break down under stress. Such a person may feel that he has reached his "breaking-point" under circumstances which would be endured by a person with a "normal" self-conception. This is to say, a greater lack of self-control than can be explained by stress tends to appear in those roles for which the culture transmits imagery which emphasizes lack of self-controL In American society such imagery is transmitted for the roles of the very young and very old, drunkards and drug addicts, gamblers, and the mentally ill. Thus, the social role of the mentally ill has a different significance at different phases of residual deviance. When labeling first occurs, it merely gives a name to primary deviation which has other roots. When (and if) the primary deviance becomes an issue, and is not ignored or rationalized away, labeling may create a social type, a pattern of "symptomatic" behavior in conformity with the stereotyped expectations of others. Finally, to the extent that the deviant role becomes a part of the deviant's self-conception, his ability to control his own behavior may be impaired under stress, resulting in episodes of compulsive behavior. The preceding eight hypotheses form the basis for the final causal hypothesis. 9. Among residual deviants, labeling is the single most important caltse of careers of residual deviance. This hypothesis assumes that most residual deviance, if it does not become the basis for entry into the sick role, will not lead to a deviant career. Most deviant careers, according to this point of view, arise out of career contingencies, and are therefore
411
35
not directly connected with the origins of the initial deviance. Although there is a wide variety of contingencies which lead to labeling rather than denial, these contingencies can be usefully classified in terms of the nature of the deviant behavior, the person who commits the deviant acts, and the community in which the deviance occurs. Other things being equal, the severity'of the societal reaction to deviance is a function of, first, the degree, amount, and visibility of the deviant behavior; second, the power of the deviant, and the social distance between the deviant and the agents of social control; and finally, the tolerance le~el of the community, and the availability in the culture of the commuruty of alternative nondeviant roles.35 Particularly crucial for future research is the importance of the first two contingencies (the amount and degree of deviance), which are characteristics of the deviant, relative to the remaining five contingencies, which are characteristics of the social system.37 To the extent that these five factors are found empirically to be independent determinants of labeUng and denial, the status of the mental patient can be considered a partly ascribed rather than a completely achieved status. The dynamics of treated mental illness could then be profitably studied quite apart from the individual dynamics of mental disorder.
CONCLUSION This paper has presented a sociological theory of the causation of stable mental disorder. Since the evidence advanced in support of the theory was scattered and fragmentary, it can only be suggested as a stimulus to further discussion and research. Among the areas pointed out for further investigation are field studies of the prevalence and duration of residual deviance; investigations of stereotypes of mental disorder in children, the mass media, and adult conversations; studies of the rewarding of stereotyped deviation, blockage of retulTI to conventional roles, and of the suggestibility of primary deviants in crises. The final causal hypothesis suggests studies of the conditions under which denial and labeling of residual deviation occur. The variables which might effect the societal reaction concern the nature of the deviance, the deviant himself, and the community in which the deviation occurs. Although many of the hypotheses suggested are largely unverified, they suggest avenues for investigating mental disorder different than those that are usually followed, and the rudiments of a general theory of deviant behavior.
412
Labeling and Deviance
29. Thomas J. Scheff
NOTES 1.
Nathanial S. Apter, "Our Growing Restlessness with Problems of Cluonic Schizophrenia," in Lawrence Appleby, et al., Chronic Schizopitrenia, Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1958.
10.
Edwin M. Lemert, Social Pathology, New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951; Kai T. Erikson, "Patient Role and Social Uncertainty-A Dilemma of the Mentally ill," Psychiatry, 20 (August, 1957), pp. 263-274; Erving Gof&nan, Asylu1IIs, New York: Doubleday-Anchor, 1961; Thomas S. Szasz, The Myth afMental Illness, New York: Hoeber-Harper, 1961. Philip Solomon, et al. (eds.), SeT/son) Deprivatioll, Cambridge: Harvard, 196~; E. L Bl.is~: et al., "Studi~s of Sleep Deprivation-Relationship to Schizoprnerua, A.M.A. ArchIves afNeurology and Psychiatry, 81 (March, 1959), pp. 348-359. See, for example, John A. Clausen and Marian R. Yarrow, "Paths to the Mental Hospit~l,,, Joumal of Social Issues, 11 (December, 1955), pp. 25-32; August B. Hollingshead and Frederick C. Redlich, Social Class and Mental Illness, New.York: Wiley, 1958, pp. 172-176; and EIaine Curnming and John Cumrnmg, Closed Ranks, Cambridge: Harvard, 1957, pp. 92-103. The tenn "denial" is used in the same sense as in Curnming and Cumming, ibid., Chap. VIr. Richard J. Plu~kett and John E. Gordon, Epidemiolog1j and Menial Illfless, New York: BasIc Books, 1960. ~enjamin Pasamanick, "A Survey of Mental Disease in an Urban PopulatIOn, Iv, An Approach to Total Prevalence Rates," Archives of Gelleral PSljclliain}, 5 (August, 1961), pp. 151-155. Ibid., P. 153. Hollinshead and Redlich, op. cit., p. 199. Pasamanick,op. cit., pp. 153-154.
11.
Ibid.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. 7.
8. 9.
18.
19.
473-480; Albert Ellis, "The Sexual Psychology of Human Hermaphrodites," PsyclJOsomntic Medicille, 7 (March, 1945), pp. 108-125j S. Liberman, "The Effect of Changes in Roles on the Attiludes of Role Occupants," Hi/mall Relatiolls, 9 (1956), pp. 385-402. For a reivew of experimental evidence, see John H. Mann, "Experimental Evaluations of Role Playing," Psychological Bulletill, 53(May, 1956), pp. 227-234. For an interesting demonstration of the inter-relations between the symptoms of patients on tile same ward, see Sheppard G. Kellam and J. B. Chassan, "Social Context and Symptoms Fluctuation," Psyclliatry, 25 (November, 1962), pp. 370-381. Leo Sadow and Alvin Suslick, "Simulation of a Previous Psychotic State," A.M.A. Arcllives of Gelleral Psyclliatnj, 4 (May, 1961), pp. 452-458. Generalizing from experimental findings, Blake and Mouton make this statement about the processes of conformity, resistance to influence, and coversion to a new role: ... an individual requires a stable framework, including salient and firm reference points, in order to orient himself and to regulate his interactions with others. This framework consists of external and internal anchorages available to the individual whether he is aware of them or not. With an acceptable framework he can resist giving or accepting information that is inconsistent with that framework or that requires him to relinquish it. In the absence of a stable framework he actively seeks to establish one through his own strivings by maldng use of Significant and relevant infonnation provided within the context of interaction. By contl'Ollil1g the amount and kind of informatio/J nvailable for orientatiOll, llC call be led to embrace cOllfonu/lIg atti-
tildes which are entirely foreigll to his earlier ways of t1lillkillg.
12. 13.
Lemert, op. cif., Chap. 4. Michael Balint, The Doctor, His Patient, and the Illness, New York: International Universities Press, 1957, p. 18. 14. Albert J. Glass, "Psychotherapy in the Combat Zone," in SymposiulIJ 011 Stress, Washington, D.e.: Army Medical Service Graduate School, 1953. Cf. Abraharn Kardiner and H. Spiegel, War Stress and Neurotic Illness, New York: Hoeber, 1947, Chps. Ill-IV. 15. Frances L lig and Louise B. Ames, Child Behavior, New York: Dell, 1960, pp. 138-188. 16. Szasz, op. c:·t., p. 252. For discussion of type-casting see Orcin E. Klapp, Heroes, VlllJal1s alld Fools, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1962, pp. 5--8 and passim. 17. Cf. Zena S. Blau, "Changes in Status and Age Identification," American ~ociologica~ Review, 21 (April, 1956), pp. 198-203; James Benjamins, c:na~ges ill Performan,ce in Relation to Influences upon Self-Conceptualization, Jormwl of AbflOnnal and Social Psyc1lOlogJ), 45 Quly, 1950), pp.
413
20.
21.
22.
Robert R. Blake and Jane S. Moufon, "Conformity; Resistance and Conversion," in COllformih) and Deviation, Irwin A Berg and Bemard M. Bass (eds.), New York: Harper, 1961, pp. 1-2. For a recent and striking demonstration of the effect on social communication in defining internal stimuli, see Stanley Schachter and Jerome E. Singer, "Cognitive, Social, and PhYSiological Detenninants of Emotional State," Psychological Review, 69 (September, 1962), pp. 379-399. TIle Cumrnings describe the social institution of insanity (the "patterned response" to deviance) in terms of denial, isolation, and insulation. Curnrning and Curruning, loco cit. Henry Brill and Benjamin Malzberg, "Statistical Report Based on the Arrest Record of 5354 Male Ex-patients Released from New York State Mental Hospitals During the Period 1946-48," mimeographed document available from the authors; L.H. Cohen and H. Freeman, "How Dangerous to the Community Are State Hospital Patients?", COIlIlecticut State Medical JouJ"/lal, 9 (September, 1945), pp. 697-701. Jum C. Nurmally, Jr., Poplllar Conceptions of Mental Health, New York: Holt, Rinehart and Wrnston, 1961, p. 74.
414
Labeling and Deviance
30. Milton Mankoff
23.
Harold Garfinkel, "Conditions of Successful Degradation Ceremonies,"
24.
Americall JOllmal of SocioloJ51J, 61 (March, 1956), pp. 420-424. Goffman, liThe Moral Career of the Mental Patient," in AsylulIls, op. cit.,
pp. 125-171. P. M. Yap, "Mental Diseases Peculiar to Certain Cultures: A Survey of Comparative Psychiatry," /ollmal of Melltal Science, 97 (April, 1951), pp. 313-327; Paul E. Eenedict and Ivving Jacks, "Mental Illness in Primitive Societies," PsycltiatnJ, 17 (November, 1954), pp. 377-389. 26. Glass, op. cil. 27. Lyle Saunders, Cultuml Differellces alld Medical Care, New York: Russell Sage, 1954,p. 142. 28. For discussion, with many illustrative cases, of the process in which persons play the "dead role" and subsequently die, see Charles C. Herbert, "Life-influencing Interactions," in Tlte PhysiologtJ ojEmotiolls, Alexander Simon, et al., eds., New York: Charles C Thomas, 1961. 29. Habnt, op. cif., pp. 215-239. Cf. Thomas]. Sd1eff, "Decision Rules, Types of Error and Their Consequences in Medical Diagnosis," Behavioral Sciellce, 8 (April, 1963), pp. 97-107. 30. William Caudill, F. C. Redlich, H. R. Gilmore, and E. B. Brody, "Social Structure and the Interaction Processes on a Psychiatric Ward," American JOllmal of OrtllOpsycJziatnj, 22 (April, 1952), pp. 314-334. 31. Lemert,op. cit., provides an extensive discussion of this process under the heading of "Limitation of Participation," pp. 434-440. 32. This proposition receives support from Erikson's observations: Kai T. Erickson, lac. cit. 33. W. Lloyd Warner, A Black Civilization, rev. ed., New York: Harper, 1958, p. 242. 34. T. Shibutani, Sociehj alld Personality, Englewood Cliffs, N.].: PrenticeHall, 1961, Chapter 6, "Consciousness and Voluntary Conduct." 35. It should be noted, however, that these contingencies are causal only because they become part of a dynamic system: the reciprocal and cumulative interrelation between the deviant's behavior and the sodetal reaction. For example, U1e more the deviant enters the role of the mentally ill, the more he is defined by others as mentally ill, but the more he is defined as mentally ill, the more fully he enters the role, and so on. By representing this theory in the fonn of a £low chart, WaIter Huckley pointed out that there are numerous such feedback loops implied here. For an explicit treatment of feedback, see Edwin M. Lemert, "Paranoia and the Dynamics of Exclusion," Sociometnj, 25 (March, 1962), pp. 2-20. 36. Cf Lemert, op. cit., pp. 51-53, 55-68; Goffman, "The Moral Career of the Mental Patient," in Asylums, op. cit., pp. 134-135; David Mechanic, "Some Factors in Identifying and Defining Mentallllness," Melltal Hygiene, 46 Ganuary, 1962), pp. 66-74; for a list of similar factors in the reaction to phYSical illness, see Earl L. Koos, The Healtll of Regiollville, New York: Columbia University Press, 1954, pp. 30-38. 37. Cj. Thomas]. Scheff, '!Psychiatric and Social Contingencies in the Release
415
Mark Lefton, Shirley Angrist, and Benjarnin Pasarnanick, "Psychiatric and Social Attributes as Predictors of Case Outcome in Mental Hospitalization," Social Problems, 8 (Spring, 1961), pp. 322-328.
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Analysis and Critique 30 Societal Reaction and Career Deviance: A Critical Analysis MILTON MANKOFF INTRODUCTION In recent years the societal reaction or labeling perspective of Tannenbaurn (1938), as elaborated by Lemert (1951), Erikson (1962), Becker (1963), and Scheff (1966), has become well known and seemingly widely accepted in one form or another by sociologists studying social deviance. Whether Tannenbaum and others intended to expound a general theory 01 deviance (Gibbs, 1966b), particularly career deviance, is not nearly as important as the fact that the work of these sociologists has been perceived by many to form a fairly coherent body of thought on the subject. Accordingly, a great deal of research has been generated by using some central concepts associated with the labeling perspective (i.e., primary and secondary or career deviance and societal reaction) to examine many forms of rule-breaking. The bulk of the research growing out of this tradition has succeeded in demonstrating that sociallabeling is not randomly applied throughout the population 01 rule-breakers (Cicourel, 1968; Piliavin and Briar, 1964). While not wishing to belittle the importance of such documentation and its implications for social theory (and social justice), one must point out that to date there has not been a systematic examination of
Reprinted from "Societal Reaction and Career Deviance: A Critical Analysis," Milton Mankoff, The Sociologiml Quarterly, 12:2 (Spring 1971): pp. 204-217. © 1971 and by permission of The Sociological Quarterly Midwest Sociological Society. ll1is is a revised version of a paper previously delivered at the 1969 meetings of the Pacific Sociological Association in Seattle, Wushington. I am deeply indebted for both substantive and editorial assistance to WiIliam Chambliss, Marshall Clinard, Irving Horowitz, David Mechanic, Arnold Ross, Thomas Scheff, D. Lawrence Wieder, and sey-
416
one of the labeling perspective's most profound derivative "theories"; that is, rI/le-breakers become wtrenched in dc:viant roles because t/Jel) are labeled "devinnt" by otllers and are cof1seqllentIy excluded fro11l resllmiJ1g l1DI7Jlal roles ill the COI1lI111l1Iioj (Lemert, 1951:75-79; Becker, 1963:31-36; Scheff, 1966). Much of the documentation of the discriminatory use of labeling is based on the belief that labeling is the primary determinant of career deviance. It is worthwhile, therefore, to examine the validity of this position. Without validation of this central notion, the research on the labeling process loses a great deal of its significance. Among labeling theorists there are, of course, subtle disagreements concerning whether the labeling process is merely a necessary condition, or approaches a necessary and sufficient condition for the development of secondary or career deviance. Lemert (1967), for example, is extremely sensitive to the indeterminacy of the interaction between rulebreakers and other social actors and is even willing to exclude certain forms of rule-breaking from the general societal reaction model. Yet in focusing on the variety of paths rule-breakers travel he does not develop any explicit formulation of the conditions under which the sodetal reaction model is most applicable to the phenomena at hand. The failure of those whose work falls within the boundaries of the labeling tradition to develop typologies that indicate which particular kinds of social deviance can be most fruitfully understood by using the concepts of labeling theory is a serious shortcoming which prevents evaluating the significance of their research. While labeling theorists may think they are only applying the principles of the labeling perspective to one form of deviation, their incidental endorsements of generalizability to other forms of deviant behavior make the critic wary of "straw men" arguments when he attempts to project the implications of specific research for general theory. Those who write about deviance from the labeling perspective, whether they feel they are being general theorists or not, should welcome an attempt to consider the limits of their model for explaining career deviance. Given the above-mentioned confusion, it is the primary intention of this exploratory paper to examine critically some empirical studies bearing on the validity of labeling theory and to provide some tentative answers to the following queries: 1. 2.
30. Nlilton Mankoff
Labeling and Deviance
Is societal reaction to rule-breaking a necessary and sufficient condition for career deviance? Is societal reaction to rule-breaking equally significant in the determination of career deviance for all kinds of rule-breaking phenomena, or is it best applied to a limited number of rule-breaking phenomena?
3.
417
What are the most serious obstacles to an adequate assessment of the theory?
I shall consider two distinct types of rule-breaking phenomena, ascriptive and achieved, which should illuminate the limitations of the labeling perspective when it addresse~ Itself to the so:rrce of ca~eer deviance.1 Ascribed rule-breaking occurs if the rule-breaker IS charactenzed in terms of a particular physical or visible "impairment." ~e does not necessarily have to act in order to be a rule-breaker; he acq~es that status regardless of his behavior or wishes. Thus, the very beautiful an~ the very ugly can be considered ascriptive rule-breakers. By contrast, achIeved rule-breaking involves activity on the part of the rule-breaker, regardless of his positive attachment to a deviant "way of life." The embezzler wh~ attempts to conceal his rule-breaking act, no less than the re~ manjuana user who freely admits his transgression, has had t.o achieve.rule~ breaking status, at least to some extent, on the strength of Ius ?VV1l actions.In evaluating the applicability of the labeling perspective on career deviance to both types of rule-breaking phenomena, I shall employ the logic of analytic induction, detennining whether invidious socle~a~ reaction to primary deviation represents a necessary and/or suffICIent condition for career deviance (Denzin, 1970:194-199). Because the body of the paper shall attempt to demonstrate the severe limitations of labeling theory as a general theory of career deviance and, more significantly, because at least some of the evidence for my argument will come from the empiri:al r~s~arch gener.ated b~ proroneJlts of the labeling perspective, I believe It IS worthwhile consIdenng the development and wide acceptance of labeling theory among sociologists as a suitable topic for a study in the sociology of l~m:ledge. Thus, in the last section of this paper, I shall present some heunstic remarks on the social sources of labeling theory as an intellectual product and the implications of this analysis for the study of social deviance, the sociological profession, and public policy.
ASCRIPTIVE RULE.BREAKING Labeling theorists, unlike most sociologists of de~iant ~eha.vior, have been particularly concerned with the effects of stIgmatization on t~le physically and visibly handicapped. Lemert's (1951: Chapters 5, 6) PlOneering text, Social Pathology, devoted two entIre chapters to the blmd and persons \vith speech defects. It seems quite evident that societal reaction is probab~y a f1ecess~ry condition for deviant careers among certain kinds of phYSIcally or VISl-
418
Labeling and Deviance
bly handicapped persons, that is, those whose rule-breaking would not normally interfere with conventional role playing (e.g., dwarfs, the extremely ugly, women, blacks). One would be hard pressed to think of a group whose members become preoccupied with physical or visible traits they share that are not "labeled" by outsiders. In considering whether societal reaction represents a sufficient condition for ascriptive career deviance, several problems arise. Labeling theorists have failed to specify which kinds of sanctions lead to career deviance and the degree of severity which is required to produce such an outcome. When considering necessary conditions, the above difficulty is not as severe if one can demonstrate the absence of societal reaction .. .it is a qualitative issue. When it comes to the role of labeling as a sufficient condition, however, one is dealing with a question which has a quantitative dimension (Turner, 1953). Given the lack of clarity in conceptualizing and operationalizing societal reaction, any discussion of sufficient conditions must be exploratory. Gibbs' (1966a) recent attempt to develop a typology of social sanctions is suggestive of the many aspects which must be examined in an adequate treatment of this area. For the purposes of this paper, I shall treat societal reaction as a qualitative phenomenon exclusively, involving the presence or absence of formal or informal sanctions (e.g., conviction and incarceration, prejudice and discrimination). In the case of ascribed rule-breaking, sanctions are almost always informal, exceptions being Jim Crow laws and physical requirements for certain occupations; achieved rule-breakers face both kinds of sanctions. It is debatable which are more severe, but we can assume that labeling theorists consider the typical sanctions meted out to rule-breakers-ostracism, economic discrimination, and incarceration-as sufficient conditions for career deviance as long as the labeling and punishment of rule-breal<ers is widely known and practiced by community members. It can always be argued, to be sure, that a more severe societal reaction would succeed in excluding the rulebreaker from normal roles and lead him inexorably to a deviant career. It is impossible to test such an assertion when the requisite degree of severity is left in doubt. Thus, it is possible that the labeJing perspective is valid in the abstract, but its use in an historical context may be limited because of the concrete features of sanctions being used in a given society. In any case, Goffman's (1963) work on stigma testifies to the powerful impact that labeling has on the social behavior of those stigmatized for physical and visible ascriptive rule-breaking. Davis' (1964) study of the attempts at "deviance disavowal" by handicapped persons ;n ...H"",h:>c: th",t rl.:,.r;",,,t ,,'''If_r'n''r'o..... f-inn''' rlcn,,,,l,.vn o","u urh",,, n"n ;<=' "'",,_
30. Milton Mankoff
419
cessful in minimizing stigmatization and discrimination. The "psychological" problems of black people in the United States are, of course, the most obvious examples of the operation of this process (Kardiner and Ovesey, 1951). On the other hand, even among the severely stigmatized, variations in (n) power, (b) soda-economic status, (c) the acquisition of compensatory skills, and (d) defense mechanisms may enable some of the victims of labeling to assume a quasi-normal role in the community, while others must accept a deviant career. Nevertheless, because ascribed rule-breaking is highly visible to corrununity members and often the object of widespread prejudice, labeling may come close to being a sufficient condition for career deviance. Ascribed deviants such as dwarfs, women, the ugly, and blacks are not handicapped because their physical and/ or visible traits prevent them from playing any particular roles but rather because of the invidious labeling process and the absence of factors which might tend to mitigate its effects. Ascribed deviance is based upon rule-breaking phenomena that fulfill all the requirements of the labeling paradigm: highly "visible" rule-breaking that is totally dependellt upon the sonetal reaction of community members while being totally illdepelldent of the actions and intentions of rule-breakers. The normal modes of social redintegration discussed by Parsons (1951:297-325) cannot operate because the interaction behveen rulebreakers and agents of social control is not based on true reciprocity. The deviant status of the ascriptive rule-breakers can ordinarily be terminated only by drastic cultural, structural, or aesthetic changes in the SOCiety in which they are members. Short of such societal transformation, the labeled ascriptive rule-breaker almost inevitably will be caught up in the mechanistic system which the proponents of the labeling perspective have discovered. The so-called black revolution and, on a smaller scale, the "hire the handicapped" campaigns, testify to the inability of ascribed rule-breal<ers to achieve social redintegration on the basis of individual adaptation as opposed to collective efforts to transform societal values, beliefs, and institutions.
ACHIEVED RULE· BREAKING While ascribed rule-breaking can perhaps best be lmderstood in terms of the labeling perspective, only a small proportion of the socially sanctioned rule-breaking that has preoccupied sociologists of deviant behavior involves ascribed phenomena. The normal concerns of students :~
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Labeling and Deviance
(Schur, 1965), the various exotic sub-cultures often associated with certain occupational statuses (e.g., dance musicians, taxi-dancers, strippers), and "residual rule-breaking" (Scheff, 1966), involve the examination of achieved rule-breaking. Although the designation of these phenomena as rule-breaking necessarily involves the violation of normative standards and sociallabeling as does ascribed rule-breaking, unlike the ascribed case, achieved rule-breaking requires the commission of a norm-violating act by the rule-breaker. This act can be engaged in out of regrettable necessity or hedonism, consciously or unconsciously. Several empirical studies, including, notably, the research of Lemert (1967:99-134) and Becker (1963:41-78), advocates of the labeling perspective, can be used to question whether societal reaction to achieved rule-breaking is a necessanJ condition for career deviance. Lemert's (1967:99-134) detailed examination of systematic check forgers, for example, documents the way in which career deviance and deviant self-conceptions can develop prior to societal reaction. TIle career of the systematic check forger begins with a situation in which "closure" operates leading to the initial rule-breaking. The naive forger is involved in "dialectical" behavior, such as heavy gambling or living beyond his means, in which each expenditure forces him deeper in debt without permitting him to abandon his imprudent behavior. At some point he runs out of available cash and the pressures to continue his activities make forgery the only possible step. Among systematic check forgers Lemert finds that there is the thrill and excitement of living beyond one's means, as well as the challenging aspects of forgery itself, which accounts for the systematic nature of the offense. Societal reaction does not appear to be a significant cause of career deviance. In terms of self-conception systematic check forgers at first appear to accept their identity after arrest, often seeking capture in order to secure a stable self-image, according to Lemert. Yet, it seems that such offenders may merely feel the need for others to respond to them in the deviant role to which they have already become attached prior to experiencing social sanctions. Perhaps a stronger case of the adoption of a deviant role without the experience of invidious societal reaction can be found in Cressey's (1953) study of violators of financial trust. Using the method of analytic induction, Cressey shows that a financial trust violation occurs among persons who have a problem that cannot be shared with others, become aware that financial trust violation can solve the problem, and are able to use contacts with criminal values to apply verbalizations to their behavior which act as rationalizations. Cressey (1953:114-138) suggests that arrest often precedes the recognition of "criminality" on'· the part of trust violators. However, in other _____ LI __ • __ 1_ 1_ •. __ 1._ •. _____ .J ___ : __ I ! ______ L _-= __ t. _ _ _ •• ! __ t. _
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mal sanctions by employers or agents of social control. Chronic speculation is based primarily upon the desire and ability to "borrow" successfully without detection. Often a record of "borrowed" money is kept in the beginning with a clear intention of repayment. After the amount taken becomes too great to return, or perhaps they read about another case of trust violation in the newspaper, trust violators may recognize that they are "in too deep" and accept the fact that they are "criminals," not merely "borrowers." At this point, Cressey reports that trust violators may react in several ways: confess their crime, gamble wildly to restore funds, abscond, commit suicide, or increase defalcations with little discretion and no concern for repayment. In any case, it seems, from Cressey's discussion, that career deviance and deviant self-conceptions can arise without the actor experiencing societal reaction to initial rulebreaking. An examination of Becker's (1963:41-78) classic study of the career development of regular marijuana users casts further doubt on the role of the labeling process in the generation of career deviance. According to Becker marijuana users go through three distinct career stages: (a) beginner, (b) occasional user, and (c) regular user. In terms of the labeling paradigm, the beginner is a primary deviant, and the regular user is a career deviant, with occasional use fitting somewhere in behveen. Becker was not particularly concerned with the reasons for beginning use of marijuana, but generally he accepted the position that initial use is based on curiosity. How, then, does the initiate go from the beginner stage to the stage of being a "head" or regular user? Becker did not see societal reaction entering into the picture in a traditional sense. Rather, the initiate learns: 1. 2. 3.
To use the proper smoking technique in order to produce the proper subjective state. To associate marijuana with the feeling state produced. To interpret the feeling as pleasurable.
At no point in his narrative does Becker refer to invidious labeling as a factor in bringing about regular marijuana use. 3 At various stages in the career of the user, he is free to discontinue smoking. Regular use of marijuana seems to be depending upon finding the subjective effects of the drug pleasurable and solving certain problems of supply, discretion, and ethics. Thus, the case of marijuana smoking appears to be an excellent illustration of career deviance based primarily upon finding pleasure in a deviant manner. Finally, an examination of the literature on homosexuality seems to indicate that a very similar career sequence may be operating as in the r.,
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uals nor rejection by peers during childhood or adolescence seems to account for career deviation within this rule-breaking group (Schofield, 1965). Homosexual experimentation seems to be a prevalent feature of 50-called normal socialization among adolescents. Some youths find that they enjoy such activity and, depending upon the opportunity structure and the importance of discretion, may choose to continue such activity. Many homosexuals are bisexual and even marry persons of the opposite sex. Career deviation occurs despite lack of visibility and social labeling. In considering the question of whether societal reaction is a SJlfficient condition for career deviance among achieved rule-breakers, the same difficulties arise as in the earlier consideration of labeling as a sufficient condition for career deviance in the ascriptive case. Unfortunately, much of the literature focuses on the effects of incarceration, ignoring the importance of informal societal reaction to rulebrealdng. It is doubtless true that informal sanctions such as ostracism may be more damaging than legal penalties, but a prison sentence is certainly a severe form of punishment for transgressions. If incarceration exacerbates attachment to deviant role-playing, one would predict that recidivism rates would be extremely high for ex-convicts. Such persons should be unable to find jobs because of discrimination when their criminal career and prison record become known to employers (Lemert, 1951:331-332). As a result of incarceration we would also expect convicts to harbor a great deal of resentment toward the "free" community and "reject the rejectors," thus facilitating a return to criminal associations and patterns (Lemert, 1951:77). Data bearing upon the above hypotheses comes from Glaser's (1964) exhaustive research on the effectiveness of the federal prison and parole system. Lengthy reports were obtained from interviews and other modes of data collection pertaining to the experiences of several hundred federal prisoners in a modified panel design. Using a cohort analysis, Glaser found that approximately one-third of parolees are recidivists between two and five years after parole is granted (Glaser, 1964:13-31). ill the area of post-release occupational adjustment Glaser finds that failure to achieve satisfactory employment is due primarily to unrealistic aspirations in view of the lack of skills held by ex-convicts. Stigma did not seem to play a significant role in occupational adjustment. Only four per cent of the job terminations of parolees were blamed (by the men themselves) on their previous criminal record. Similarly only nine per cent of the parolees who were unable to obtain a job within one week after parole attributed itlo the stigma of their criminal past (Glaser, 10t::/J."Jt:o
30. Milton Mankoff
Labeling and Deviance
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423
Glaser's research can be dealt with critically, and it may well be that he under-represents by far the true recidivism rate and fails to consider the possibility that parolees were "putting on" the interviewers, attributing adjustment failures to their own limitations in order to show a "positive" attitude toward the rehabilitation process. 4 ill any case his research suggests that the notion that prisons are criminogenic may require further study. Cameron's (1964) study of professional and amateur shoplifters offers more evidence that the labeling process does not necessarily lead to career deviance. When amateur shoplifters ("snitches") were apprehended by department store detectives they were unable to accept themselves as "thieves" and ceased pilfering. Finally, Chambliss (1969:360-378), in summarizing the literature on deterrence, has argued that rule-breakers who have a low commitment to criminal activity as a way of life and whose criminal behavior is instrumental rather than expressive (e.g., snitches, white collar criminals, gangland murders) may be deterred by punishment rather than become career deviants as a consequence of societal reaction. Thus, the labeling perspective on career deviance does not appear to be very useful in understanding the dynamics of achieved rule-brealdng. Societal reaction seems to be neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for career-achieved deviance. The essential feature of achieved rulebreal
PROBLEMS OF THEORY AND RESEARCH In the previous section some evidence has been presented to suggest that societal reaction theory is not an adequate general theory of career deviant behavior. As a theoretical model it appears to be most applicable when rule-breaking is ascribed rather than achieved. Even in the ascribed case labeling probably serves only as a necessary rather than a necessary and sufficient condition for career deviance. In examining some of the evidence pertaining to labeling theory, I , ___ • ____ • _____ , _ .1 _____ r ___ ". __ ,. __ 1 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 1 ______ • • _ _
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424
Labeling and Deviance
ranted. It is conceivable that some of the evidence cited which casts doubt on the "completeness" of labeling theory can be reinterpreted by proponents of the theory in such a manner as to justify its claim to be a general theory of career deviance. Moreover, as Hirschi and Selvin (1967:119-123) point out, it is a false criterion for causality to require "independent" variables to be related to "dependent" variables as necessary and/ or sufficient conditions for their existence. Social labeling undoubtedly plays an important role in the generation of career deviation in many cases. Nevertheless, it is probably not as crucial in this process as some of its proponents would claim. In order to aid in the development of a more complete theory of career deviance, I shall briefly discuss some of the shortcomings which limit the utility of the labeling perspective, particularly in considering achieved rule-breaking. The most salient theoretical difficulty is in the conception of initial rule-breaking and the nature of the sources which bring it into being. There is a premise in the writings of the labeling theorists that whatever the causes of initial rule-breaking, they assume minimal importance or entirely cease operation after initial rule-breaking (Scheff, 1966:50-54; Lemert, 1967:40). Without such a premise, one might attribute career deviance and its consequences not to societal reaction but to the continued effects of social structural strains, psychological stress, or disease states which produced initial rule-breaking. In this connection, the labeling model fails to seriously consider the possibility that deviant behavior may be persisted in even when the rule-breaker has every opportunity to return to the status of nondeviant (Becker, 1963:37), because of a positive attachment to rule-breaking. Given the fact that theorists within the labeling tradition often see their views as consistent with a conflict interpretation of deviance, as opposed to one involving consensus which attributes deviance to faulty socialization, one can find significant traces of consensual thinking implicit in their theorizing. The societal reaction paradigm implies that labelers really share the same Weltansc!uwllng as rule-breakers. The only problem is that rule-breakers are imperfect creatures who sh'ay from the fold on occasion. The logic of the labeling approach to career deviance precludes rule-breakers being credited (or discredited) with freely espousing career deviance as a positive alternative to career conformity. Labeling the rulebreaker will only serve to prevent his rapprochement with the non-rulebreaking elements of the community. Deviant conduct and attacrunent to a deviant role will strengthen when the community isolates and excludes the transgressor from nonnal social life. Implicit in the labeling model is the belief that iule-breakers really want to confonn, even the ..............
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30. :Milton Mankoff
425
There are some labeling theorists who admit the possibility that initial rule-breaking behavior may be the product of a desire to reorganize the world or a particular segment of it. Scheff (1966:44-45), for example, illustrates this point by a discussion of the Dadaist movement in the arts, but unfortunately his defense of the innovative, willful rule-breaker is obviated by the fact that he traces the growth of the movement in terms of the enormous hostility toward it expressed by orthodox artists and critics. One might argue that it was the severity of the societal reaction which made the Dadaists more self-conscious of their "revolutionary" acts and more tenacious in their defense of those acts. Thus, Scheff (1966:44-45), even when defending the Weltmlschazlllllg of the rule-breaker undermines the defense by implying the possibility of involuntary career deviance. Becker (1963) explicitly considers the possibility of "intended" rulebreaking. Often, in his ethnographic accounts, as in the case of the research on the dance musician (Becker, 1963:79-119) as well as the marijuana user (Becker, 1963:41-78), he seems to accept the existence of a self-sustaining cotlllter-culture based on deviant identities. Nevertheless, a careful reading of Becker's "sequential model" for career deviance makes one conclude that given the chance to resume nonnal activities, the rule-breaker will invariably do so (Becker, 1963:36--39). His examples range from boys who engage in homosexual behavior without really believing in it to tortured heroin addicts. He talks of deviants fonning subcultures which provide them with "rationalizations" for their deviance. The examples used and the terminology employed seem to betray the theorist's doubts about the legitimacy of deviant careers. Such doubts are necessarily linked to the labeling theory of career deviance which sees unfettered rule-breaking co-existing with the maintenance of social order. if rule-breakers truly represented subversive values such a co-existence would be untenable. The discrepancy between empirical research and theory constTuction is characteristic of labeling theory and shall be discussed shortly. Another theoretical problem arises in regard la the issue of social sensitivity. After an actor engages in rule-breaking behavior he may feel shame, guilt, or fear of exposure. As Becker (1963:31) realizes, it is possible that this in itself may be sufficient to have the primary deviant label himself as "deviant," and he may then engage in all kinds of behaviors to cover up his initial rule-breaking and tlllwittingly exacerbate the problem (cf., Matza, 1969:150-152). Such "vicious cycles" apparently OCCllr among stutterers and alcoholics (Lemert, 1967:56-57). Even granting that cultural standards are ultimately responsible for making the primary deviant self-conscious, simply focusing on labelers while ig___ : _ _ LL _____ 1:..: ___ Cd _____ I_l_ .. __ l._ .. ____ 1._.1..
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426
30. Milton Mankoff
Labeling and Deviance
in understanding the dynamics of career deviance. It is important to de-
termine the sources and salience of self-labeling in the development of career deviance. A final theoretical dilemma involves the nature of the societal reaction itself. As mentioned earlier, labeling theorists have not clearly specified what sort of reaction on the part of community members-formal, informal, or both-is necessary and/ or sufficient to produce career deviation. Lemert (1967:42) claims that to establish a totally deviant identity, stigmatization must be disseminated throughout the society. This is very unlikely to occur in advanced societies for almost allY rule-breaking phenomenon. If we ignore Lemert's extreme statement we find that the lack of specification as to the type and severity of sodetal reaction makes the labeling theory impossible to refute. It can always be maintained that either a mild societal reaction is sufficient or that a different kind of reaction or more severe form of the same one would account for career deviance. In this manner one can explain all findings and predict none. Moreover, it can once again lead to a reductionist position in which it is the extreme sensitivity of the primary deviants (this time, to an actual societal reaction) which leads them to permanent entrenchment in deviant roles. The major theoretical difficulties mentioned above generate related research dilemmas. One problem involves controlling the effects of the sources of initial rule-breaking; another involves controlling for the sensitivity of the rule-breaker to the possibility and actuality of societal reaction. Only by such a procedure can the impact of actual societal reaction be weighted. Unfortunately, natural field settings make it impossible to adequa tely assess the theory because of the impossibility of controlling for either of the MO variables which might confound the effects of actual societal reaction. Comparing experimental and control groups on these variables would require labeling both to see if they are equally "sensitive." To do this would obviously eliminate the usefulness of the control group since it would cease serving that function at the point when its members were influenced by a particular kind (mode and intensity) of societal reaction. An experimental design, as advocated by Scheff (1966:199), on the other hand, is objectionable principally on ethical grounds. Two groups (experimental and control) would have to be chosen from a population of primary deviants unaware that they are rule-breakers. Randomization could be used to control for the sources of primary deviation and social sensitivity. Unfortunately, even if it were possible to locate potential experimental subjects, the necessary invocation of societalreaction with the experimental group would ha "',.., nhHi ..... ,.C" Hi .... 1., .............. f ............ t: . ." .... ; ........... 1 ";.1-..;...,,.., ...... ~_h ... "l~ .. l~.:£
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427
lieved in the validity of labeling theory (since the researcher would suspect that he was pOSSibly dooming his experimental group to career deviance).
LABELING THEORY AND THE SOCIOLOGY OF KNOWLEDGE In the previous section I spoke about the seeming incongruity between
empirical research and theory construction which characterizes much of the scholarship that falls within the labeling tradition. When "theory" ignores what research uncovers, one often finds a problem that is traceable to "ideology" rather than the competence of professionals. This issue must be squarely addressed if the study of social deviance is to attain scientific respectability and provide a guide to public policy. Sociologists in general, and those who study deviant behavior in particular, are often beset by ambivalence in carrying out their life's work. On the one hand they are committed to value-neutrality and objectivity as part of their professional training; on the other hand, they frequently side with the perspective of the "underdog" and view themselves as liberal reformers in their role as citizens. Frequently, they try to combine both roles (Turnin, 1965; Becker, 1967). Because of the operation of unique historical forces, American sociology was based upon the synthesis of liberal reforrnism and the social theories of European conservatives with their preoccupation with the problem of social order (Parsons, 1937, 1951; Nisbet, 1966; Nicolaus, 1969). As time went by the ideological roots of modern American sociology were forgotten, and the concerns of the field, while still retaining their conservative bias, were rephrased in the seemingly value-neutral language of contemporary sociological discourse (e.g., functions, dysfunctions, social disorganization). TIle continuing focus of sociological inquiry has, of course, been reinforced by the political context in which American sociologists seek research support (Nicolaus, 1969; Gouldner, 1968,1970). Given the intellectual and professional orientation of modem sociologists trained in and practicing their craft in the United States, it is understandable that a conflict should arise between the scientific and citizen roles of the profeSSional sociologist. Thus, most sociologists, who wish "society" to be more tolerant of rule-breaking and solve various "social problems" while still retaining social cohesiveness and institutional continuity, must demonstrate that labeling and repression are inimical to the long-term stability of America's social institutions. Only ;_ ..1...;_ ••• _ •• ___ ~1...~., ~~ .. ;~CTT •. J...~ ~ ........ ,,: ............ ,., ... ~,.. At: ~J...,.,; .. .....r.t:n""";r. ...
fra",h,
428
30. Milton Mankoff
Labeling tlnd Deviance
express their political views, and develop cogent arguments acceptable to very conservative public policy decision-makers. Unfortunately, the consequence of such a complex posture is to fail as a competent scientist, lose faith in the liberal political analysis, and meet rejection by "realistic" policy-makers, when the "data" fail to conform to expectations. Neither repression nor the lack of it Seems to affect the propensity of youth to use psychedelic drugs; student activism grows whether the campuses are administered by "doves" or "hawks." Repression even seems to work better, at least in the short run, but at the ex-pense of increasingly widespread alienation from authority. The preoccupation with labeling as the source of chronic rule-breaking may blind sociologists to macro-sociological analysis which traces social instability and career deviance to the very institutional arrangements-economic, political, cultural-that are supposed to maintain order. s Unfortunately, returning to the neglected concerns of an institution-and conflict-oriented macro-sociology-may upset the symbiotic links betvveen sociology as a profession and the sources of its material sustenance. Moreover, knowledge acqUired through such an effort may destroy the strain of optimism that reformers have carefully nurtured despite attacks from the Left and Right. Liberal sociologists may not be able to have their cake and eat it: either certain "subversive" forms of rule-breaking may have to be suppressed via police state methods, Or sociallife may have to be reorganized around values other than profit, productivity, and puritanism. In this regard, Erikson's (1966) macro-labeling perspective, emphasizing the functions of deviance and social control for the maintenance of social order, may demonstrate a willingness to face unpleasant choices not shared by micro-labeling theorists who focus on the functions of social control in the generation of deviant careers. In order not to end on a somber note entirely, it might well be possible to eliminate negative sanctions against ascribed rule-breakers without endangering the social order. However, even this policy would have to be accompanied by a profound alteration in the minds of our citizens as well as the creation of new ways to deal with the economic problems associated with the incorpora tion of millions of persons into a labor market unable to provide employment, even demeaning employment, for many of its beautiful, healthy, white males.
CONCLUSION This paper has been concerned with the empirical validation of one of ~h .......... ~ ... ~ ,..;~;I.;,,~_~ II~J... ... ~_;" ... II
...l ... _;y .... ...l L...,,~ ~J..." 1~J...,,1;_~ _,.._,,_,..,,!.l .....
429
namely, rule-breakers become entrenched in deviant roles because they are labeled "deviant" by others and are consequently excluded from resuming normal societal roles. By dividing rule-breaking phenomena into two major types, ascribed and achieved rule-breaking distinguished by the necessity of rule-breaking activity on the part of the rule-breaker, the paper has attempted to demonstrate that the utility of this theory is severely limited. Ascribed rule-breaking, because it involves a passive rule-breal<er almost totally dependent upon the whims of sociallabelers, exemplifies the kind of rule-breaking phenomena for which the labeling model is most applicable. Even in this case, however, while sociallabeling may be a necessary condition for career deviance, it is probably not a sufficient condition for such a development. Variations in power, sodo-economic status, the acquisition of compensatory skills, and defense mechanisms may permit some labeled ascribed rule-breakers to avoid career deviance. Nevertheless, collective attempts to change social values, beliefs, and institutions are probably necessary to end ascribed deviance in the face of the dependence of ascribed rule-breakers upon prevailing community ideology and behavior. In the case of achieved rule-breaking, the labeling model is extremely inadequate in providing an explanation for the genesis of career deviance. Labeling theorists ignore the possibility of genuine commitment on the part of the rule-breaker to achieved career deviance. This failure of analYSis stems from an underestimation of the importance of social and psychological factors other than labeling in generating deviant careers. Finally, labeling theory underestimates the possibilities for successful social control through labeling. TIle evidence suggests that while the labeling process may play a significant role in the development of career-achieved deviance it is neither a necessary nor sufficient condition for such an outcome. Besides considering the particular strengths and weaknesses of the labeling model in regard to the generation of career ascribed and achieved deviance, the paper has also discussed some of the major dilemmas pertaining to theory and research which must be faced by those who may wish to assess labeling theory in the future. Among the theoretical problems are the previously stated failure to consider the continJlillg effects of the social structural and psychological sources of initial rule-breaking in the development of career deviance, the lack of concern with the vulnerability of certain rule-breakers to self-labeling processes which may reduce the significance of objective labeling practices in determining deviant careers, and tlle related omission of any serious analysis of the types and severity of actual social sanction which f~ri1ibl~p ""l1r(,ps"f1l1" bhp\inp". t l1Hm~~plv. stllopnrs nf cipvi~n('p will
3D" Milton Mankoff
430
431
Labeling and Deviance
have to reconsider the mechanistic assumptions of labeling theory when applied to achieved and to a lesser degree ascribed rule-breaking. The implicit notions of human passivity, so characteristic of behaviorism, seem out of place in a sociological tradition that has been founded upon penetrating observations of the creative potential of human beings. Researchers will have to learn to control the effects of the sources of initial rule-breaking and sensitivity to self-Iabeling and particular types of societal reaction. Only in this way can they demonstrate the power of actual labeling processes by community members in determining career deviance. Finally, because of the observation that the empirical research of labeling theorists has often provided evidence which contradicts the labeIing model of career deviance the paper has briefly explored some of the ideological and social sources of this model. It has suggested that the model arises out of a tension between the refonnist ideological orientations of most sociologists of deviance, the conservative bias of American sociology derived from European conservative social theory, and the pressures arising from the sources of political and financial support for the American sociological profession. These three factors have permitted some sociologists to become advocates of a theoretical perspective which resolves the tensions which are rooted in the conflict between ideology, professionalism, and political and financial pressure. UnforhmatelJ" the inadequacy of the labeling perspective leads to ideological, scientific, and political bankruptcy" It is suggested tilat sociologists of social deviance concern themselves more with macro-sociological analysis in the future, focusing primarily on the institutional sources of career deviance. This focus may lead to greater understanding of the nature of career deviance, although it may result in shifting ideological, political and professional orientation for those who undertake this task. In conclusion, this paper has left many problems unresolved, particularly the difficulties involved in the conceptualization and operationalization of "societal reaction" and the development of a viable research program designed to test the labeling model adequately. Nevertheless, directing attention toward some of the outstanding weaknesses of the model as it currently stands will hopefully lead to more productive attempts to grapple with the problems associated with the phenomenon of career deviance.
NOTES 1. For discussion of the utility of typological analysis with specific focus on typologies of criminal behavior, see CUnard and Quinnev (1967:1-1q) ,.,f
ul ty es under analysis m this paper were McKinney (1966). Th,e(i;~~~ cO~Id~ratiOn of role relationships. The elebili"b"es for actwe role-making rather than drawn from Parsons " "ty
REFERENCES Becker, Howard S. . 7" Social Problems 14. (Winter): 239-248, 1967 "\'Vhose SIde are we on,
432
Labeling and Deviance
30. Milton Mankoff
1963 Outsiders: Studies in the SOciology of Deviance. New York: The Free Press. Cameron, Mary Owen 1964 The Booster and the Snitch: Department Store Shoplifting. New York: The Free Press.
OlambIiss, William J. 1969 Crime and the Legal Process. New York: McGraw-HilL
1968
433
"The sociologist as partisan: sociology and the welfare state." American Sociologist 3 (May):103-116.
Hirschi, Travis and Hanan Selvin 1967 Delinquency Research: An Appraisal of Analytic Methods. New York: Free Press. Kardiner, Abram and Lionel Ovesey 1951 The Mark of Oppression: Explorations in the Personality of the American Negro. Cleveland: World.
CicoureI, Aaron V.
1968 The Social Organization of Juvenile Justice. New York: Wiley. Clinard, Marshall
Lemert, Edwin 1967 Human Deviance, Social Problems, and Social Control. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice~Hall. 1951 Social Pathology. New York: McGraw-HilL
1964 Anomie and Deviant Behavior: A Discussion and Critique. New York: The Free Press. Clinard, Marshall and Richard Quinney 1967 Criminal Behavior Systems: A Typology. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston.
Matza, David 1969 Becoming Deviant. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall
J
Cressey, Donald R.
1953 Other People's Money. New York: The Free Press of Glencoe. Davis, Pred "Dev:iance disavowal: the management of strained interaction by the physlcally handicapped." Pp. 119-137 in Haward S. Beeker (ed.), The Other Side: Perspectives on Deviance. New York: The Free Press. Denzin, Norman K 1964
1970 The Research Act: A Theoretical Introduction to Sociological Meth~ ads. Chicago: Aldine. Erikson, Kai 1966
Wayward Puritans: A Study in the SOCiology of Deviance. New York: Wiley. 1962 "Notes on the sociology of deviance." Social Problems 9 (Spring): 307-314. Gibbs,J. 1966a "Sanctions." Social Problems 14 (Fall):147-159. 1966b "Conceptions of deviant behavior: the old and the new." Pacific Sociological Review 9 (Spring):9-14. Glaser, Daniel 1964 The Effectiveness of a Prison and Parole System. New York: BobbsMerrill. Goffman, Erving 1963 Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identities. New Jersey: Prentice Hall. Gouldner, Alvin 1970 The Coming Cris~ of Western Sociology. New York: Basic Books.
McKinney, John C. 1966 Constructive Typology and Social Theory. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts.
Merton, R. 1938 "Social structure and anomie." American Sociological Review (October),672-682. Nicolaus, M. 1969 "The professional organization of sociology: a view from below." Antioch Review 29 (Fall):375-388. Nisbet, Robert 1966 The Sociological Tradition. New York: Basic Books. Parsons, TalcoH 1951 The Social System. New York: Free Press. 1937 The Structure of Social Action. New York: McGraw-Hill. Piliavin, L. and S. Briar 1964 "Police encounters WiU1 juveniles." American Journal of Sociology 69 (September),206-214. Scheff, Thomas 1966 Being Mentally ill: A Sociological Theory. Chicago: Aldine. Schofie!d, Michae! 1965 Sociological Aspects of Homosexuality: Boston: Little, Brown, and Company. SChUI, Edwin 1965 Crimes Without Victims: Deviant Behavior and Public Policy. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice~Hall Tannenbaum, Frank 1938 Crime and the Community. Boston: Ginn and Co.
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31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
TumID,M. 1965 "The functionalist approach to social problems." Social Problems 1')
(Spring):379-388.
-
Turner, R. 1953
"The quest for universals in sociological research." American SociolOgical Review 18 (December):604-611.
Contemporary Application 31 Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: The Development of Deviant Identities PENELOPE A. MCLORG and DIANE E. TAUB INTRODUCTION Current appearance norms stipulate thinness for women and muscularity for men; these expectations, like any norms, entail rewards for co~pliance ar:d ne~ative sanc~ons for violations. Fear of being overwelg~t-of bemg Visually deVIant-has led to a striving for thinness, espeCIally among women. In the extreme, this avoidance of overweight engenders eating disorders, which themselves constitute deviance Anorexia nervosa, or purposeful starvation, embodies visual as well a~ behavioral ~eviation; .buli~ia,. binge-eating followed by vomiting and! or .laxative abuse, 15 pnmanly behaviorally deviant. B~sldes a fear of fatness, anorexics and bulimics exhibit distorted bo~y Images. In anorexia nervosa, a 20-25 percent loss of initial body weIght occurs, resulting from self-starvation alone or in combination ~th excessive exercising, occasional binge-eating, vomiting and/or laxallve abuse. Bulimia denotes cyclical (daily, weekly, for example) bingeeabng followed by vonuting or laxative abuse; weight is normal or close to normal (Humphries et aL, 1982). Common physical manifestations of these eating disorders include menstrual cessation or irregularities Equal co-aut,hors. This paper is a revised version of a manuscript presented at the 1986 <1~n~al meetings of the Southern Sociological Society, New Orleans. Reprinted by per~ls~lOn from De~inl1l BdllHJior, 8:177~189, 1987. Copyright © 1987 by Hemisphere Pllbhshmg CorporatIOn.
435
and electrolyte imbalances; among behavioral traits are depression, obsessions/ compulsions, and anxiety (Russell, 1979; Thompson and Schwartz, 1982). Increasingly prevalent in the past two decades, anorexia nervosa and bulimia have emerged as major health and social problems. Termed an epidemic on college campuses (Brody, as quoted in Schur, 1984:76), bulimia affects 13% of college students (Halmi et al., 1981). Less prevalent, anorexia nervosa was diagnosed in 0.6()lo of students utilizing a university health center (Stangler and Printz, 1980). However, the overall mortality rate of anorexia nervosa is m{J (Schwartz and Thompson, 1981) to 20% (Bumphries et aI., 1982); bulimia appears to be less lifethreatening (Russell, 1979). Particularly affecting certain demographic groups, eating disorders are most prevalent among young, white, affluent (upper-middle to upper class) women in modern, industrialized countries (Crisp, 1977; Willi and Grossman, 1983). Combining all of these risk factors (female sex, youth, high socioeconomic status, and residence in an industrialized country), prevalence of anorexia nervosa in upper class English girls' schools is reported at 1 in 100 (Crisp et aI., 1976). The age of onset for anorexia nervosa is bimodal at 14.5 and 18 years (Humphries et al., 1982); the most frequent age of onset for bulimia is 18 (Russell, 1979). Eating disorders have primarily been studied from psychological and medical perspectives. 1 Theories of etiology have generally fallen into three categories: the ego psychological (involving an impaired childmaternal environment); the family systems (implicating enmeshed, rigid families); and the endocrinological (involving a precipating hormonal defect). Although relatively ignored in previous studies, the sociocultural components of anorexia nervosa and bulimia (the slimness norm and its agents of reinforcement, such as role models) have been postulated as accounting for the recent, dramatic increases in these disorders (Schwartz et al., 1982; Boskind-White, 1985)2 Medical and psychological approaches to anorexia nervosa and bulimia obscure the social facets of the disorders and neglect the individuals' own definitions of their situations. Among the social processes involved in the development of an eating disorder is the sequence of conforming behavior, primary deviance, and secondary deviance. Societal reaction is the critical mediator affecting the movement through the deviant career (Becker, 1973). Within a framework of labeling theory, this study focuses on the emergence of anorexic and bulimic identities, as well as on the consequences of being career deviants.
436
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
437
LabellIlg and Deviance
METHODOLOGY SAMPLING AND PROCEDURES
Most research on eating disorders has utilized clinical subjects or nonclinical respondents completing questionnaires. Such studies can be criticized for simply counting and describing behaviors and/or neglecting the social construction of the disorders. Moreover, the work of clinicians is often limited by therapeutic orientation. Previous research may also have included individuals who were not in therapy on their own volition and who resisted admitting that they had an eating disorder. Past studies thus disregard the intersubjective meanings respondents attach to their behavior and emphasize researchers' criteria for definition as anorexic or bulimic. In order to supplement these sampling and procedural designs, the present study utilizes participant observation of a group of self-defined anorexics and bulimics.3 As the individuals had acknowledged their eating disorders, frank discussion and disclosure were facilitated. Data are derived from a self-help group, BANISH, Bulimics/ Anorexics In Self-Help, which met at a university in an urban center of the mid-South. Founded by one of the researchers (D.E.T.), BANISH was advertised in local newspapers as offering a group experience for individuals who were anorexic or bulimic. Despite the local advertisements, the campus location of the meetings may have selectively encouraged university students to attend. Nonetheless, in view of the modal age of onset and socioeconomic status of individuals with eating disorders, college students have been considered target populations (Crisp et al., 1976; Halmi et aI., 1981). The group's weekly two-hour meetings were observed for two years. During the course of this study, thirty individuals attended at least one of the meetings. Attendance at meetings was varied: ten individuals came nearly every Sunday; five attended approximately twice a month; and the remaining fifteen participated once a month or less frequently, often when their eating problems were "more severe" or "bizarre." The modal number of members at meetings was twelve. The diversity in attendance was to be expected in self-help groups of anorexks and bulimics. ... most people's involvement will not be forever or even a long time. Most people get the support they need and drop out. Some take the time to help others after they themselves have been helped but even they may withdraw after a time. It is a natural and in many cases necessary process ... (emphasis in original) (American Anorexia/Bulimia
Association, 1983).
Modeled after Alcoholics Anonymous, BANISH alltohwO~~!:r:~~ . h . b k ounds and expenences Wl pants to dISCUSS t elf ac gr b the group constituted their only empathized. For many mer:n~~~ere reluctant to contact health prosow:ce of help; these fre~r::::: embarrassment, or financial difficulties.
fessl~na~d~~~nU~~ ~e~d not~s from
group meetings, r:~ords of ?~~e~ a . 11 members were maintained. PartiCIpants VISl e encounters WIth a h (D ET) called both researchers by the office o~ ~ne. ~f dtht~::e:~cthe:i~ h~~e~ 'or out for a cup of coffee. phone, an mVl e . . . urtication and mutual trust. Such interacti~: ~~~:!~~t~:dY~~d~~~S c~=did not attend the meetings Even among t . t ' cl with ten members on a monthly regularly, contact was mam ame basis. .' 'nformal interviews with fifteen Supplementmg fI~ld not: ~;~e t~ four hours. Because they apgroup members, I~~:r~ ~~ensive experience with eating disorders, peared to represen rfy their comments about the these interviewees were ch~sen to amp~eetings Conducted near the labeling process, made dunn~ group. d the i~terviews focused on tvv observatIOn peno , . end of theo-year ht tedated and maintained their eatmg W.hat the respon~e.nts th~~~i :;ts described others' reactions to their dIsorders. In addltion, p. p. t tations of these reactions. To
~~~~:CitO;~ea~;~;~:~t:~~~~ °07~n%:tJ'~:ls quoted in the study, pseudonyms are employed. DESCRIPTION Of MEMBERS
.
The
f tl
~e~oo~~!h:~~~:~~~~ea~d
mple typifies what has been ;:~:s, 1976; CriSp, 1977; Her~og,
1~~~; s~~eSier-Strop~h 1!8e4~~~~~~g~~~i~~~~:~:y~~~~e~~:::r~~~
teen to tlurty-sh'Xt~ WI d all but one were female. The sole male and dents were w 1 e, an .' f I buthree of the females were anorexic; the remammg ema es were
limi~:imarilY composed of college students, the group included fOil~
;r~~7d~~d o~o:~;:r~~~~eee:c~::r~~~~~:a~:.
non-students, three of bers denved from upp t d nts were never-marrieds and · I t en students and two non-S u e . d EIgl e . l' . t 0 non-students were marne uninvo~ved in ser.joils re.latlOnSt~~:~t~ were divorced (one with two (one WIth two chIldren), two 5 . I ed in serious relationshipS. 'ld ). cl six students were 111VO v ChI ren an . . d cl from three to fifteen years. The duration of eatmg dIsor er range J
438
I Labeling and Deviance
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
439
I CONFORMING BEHAVIOR In th~ backgrow:ds ?f ~ost anorexics and bulirnics, dieting figures prommently, begmnmg in the teen years (Crisp, 1977; Johnson et al., 1982; Lacey et al., 1986). As dieters, these individuals are conformist in their adherence to the cultural norms emphasizing thinness (Garner et al., 1980; Schwartz et al., 1982), In our society, slim bodies are regarded as the most worthy and attractive; overweight is viewed as pl~1sically an~, morally unhealthy-"obscene," "lazy," "slothful:' and gluttonous (DeJong, 1980; Ritenbaugh 1982' Schwartz et al 1982). " "
~~ng the agents of sorialization promoting the slimness norm is
advert~smg. Female models in newspaper, magazine, and television advertisemen~s are uniformly slender. In addition, product names and
sloga~~;xpIOlt the :~ o~;ntation; exam~!es include "Ultra Slim Lipstick, ~lller Lite, and VrrglnIa Slims. While retaining pressures towa: d thinness, an Ayds commercial attempts a compromise for those wanting to savor food: 'l\yds,. ,so you can taste, chew, and enjoy. while you lose weight." Appealing particularly to women, a nationwide fastfood restaurant chain offers low-calorie selections, so individuals can ~a,:"e a "license to eat." In the latter two examples, the notion of enJoymg food is combined with the message to be slim, Food and restaurant a~vertisements overall convey the pleasures of eating, whereas ~dvertisements for other products, such as fashions and diet aids, remforce the idea that fatness is undesirable. Emphasis on being slim affects everyone in our culture, but it influences women especially because of society's traditional emphasis on women's appearance. The slimness norm and its concomitant narrow beauty stan?ards exacerbate the objectification of women (Schur, 1984). ~omen View themselves as visual entities and recognize that :onformmg to appearance expectations and "becoming attractive obJect[s] [are]role obligation[s]" (Laws, as quoted in Schur, 1984:66). Demonstrating the beauty motivation behind dieting, a recent Nielson s~rvey in~cated that the 56 percent of all women aged 24 to 54 who dieted durmg the prevlOus year, 76 percent did so for cosmetic, rather than health: reasons (Schwartz et aI., 1982). For most female group members, dIeting was VIewed as a means of gaining attractiveness and ~ppeal to the opposite sex, The male respondent, as well, indicated that when I was fat, girls didn't look at me, but when I got thinner, I was suddenly popular." In addition ~o responding to the specter of obesity, individuals Who devel~p anoreXIa nervosa and bulimia are conformist in their strong
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excel at school and work (Russell, 1979; Bruch, 1981; Hurnphries et aI., 1982), maintaining high aspirations in both areas (Theander, 1970; Lacey et aI., 1986). Group members generally completed college-preparatory courses in high school, aware from an early age that they would strIve for a college degree. Also, in college as well as high school, respondents joined honor societies and academic clubs. . Moreover, pre-anorexics and -bulimics display notable conventionality as "model children" (Humphries et aL, 1982:199), "the pride and joy" of their parents (Bruch, 1981:21S}, a:c.omrnodatmg ~1emselves t? the wishes of others. Parents of these mdlvIduals emphasIze conforIDlty and value achievement (Bruch, 1981). Respondents felt that perfect or near-perfect grades were expected of them; however, good grade~ were not rewarded by parents, because "As" were common for these children. In addition, their parents suppressed conflicts, to preserve the image of the "all-American family" (Humphries et aL, 1982). Group members reported that they seldom, if ever, heard their parents argue or raise their voices. Also conformist in their affective ties, individuals who develop anorexia nervosa and bulimia are strongly, even excessively, attached to their parents. Respondents' families appeared close-knit, demonstrating palpable emotional ties. Several group members, for example, . reported habitually calling home at prescribed times, whether or not they had any news. Such families have been termed "enmeshed" and "overprotective," displaying intense interaction and concern for members' welfare (Minuchin et aL, 1978; Selvini-Palazzoli, 1978). These qualities could be viewed as marked conformity to the norm of familial closeness. s Another element of notable conformity in the family milieu of preanorexics and -bulimics concerns eating, body weight/ shape, and exercising (Kalucy et al., 1977; Humphries et al., 1982). Respondents reported their fathers' preoccupation with exercising and their mothers' engrossment in food preparation. When group members dieted and lost weight, they received an extraordinary amount of approval. Am.?n?" l.he family, body size became a matter of "friendly rivalry." One bulimic informant recalled that she, her mother, and her coed sister all strived to wear a size 5, regardless of their heights and body frames. Subs:quent to this study, the researchers learned that both the mother and slster had become bulimic. As pre-anorexics and -bulimics, group members thus exhibited marked conformity to cultural norms of thinness, achievement, compliance, and parental attachment. Their families reinforced. their conformity by adherence to norms of family closeness and weIght/body
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
440
PRIMARY DEVIANCE Even ",:ith familial encouragement, respondents, like nearly all dieters (C~emm, 1981~, failed to maintain their lowered weights. Many cited theIr l~ck of will 'p0.wer to eat only restricted foods. For the emerging anoreXlcs ~d bulirnic~ ~xtremes such as puposeful starvation or hinging acco~p~ed by vonuting and/ or laxative abuse appeared as "obvious soluti~ns to the problem of retaining weight loss. Associated with these behavlOfs was a regained feeling of control in lives that had been disrupted by a major crisis. Group members' extreme weight-loss efforts ope~ated .as coping mechanisms for entering college, leaving home, or feelmg rejected by the opposite sex. primary inducement for both eating adaptations was the drive for ~ru:nness: with slimness came more self-respect and a feeling of sufreTloTlty ~v~r "unsucce:sful diet~rs." Brian, for example, experienced a power trip u~on consIStent weIght loss through starvation. Binges allowed the purgmg respondents to cope with stress through eating while ~amtammg. a s.hrn appe~ance. As former strict dieters, Teresa and Jennifer used bmgmg!purgmg as an alternative to the constant self-denial of starvation. Acknowledging their parents' desires for them to be slim ~ost respondents. still felt it was a conscious choice on their part to con~ tinue extreme weIght-loss efforts. Being thin became the "most important thing" in their lives-their "greatest ambition." In :xplaining the development of an anorexic or bulimic identity, Lemert s (1951;1967) concept of primary deviance is salient. Primary deVIance refers to a transItOry penod of norm violations which do not affect an individual's se~~o.ncept or performance of social roles. Although resp~ndents were exhIbIting anorexic or bulimic behavior, they did not consIder themselves to be anorexic or bulimic. At first, anorexics' significant others complimented their weight loss, expounding on their new "sleekness" and "good looks." Branch and Eurrnan (1980:631) also found anorexics' families and friends describing them as "well-groomed," "neat," "fashionable," and "victorious." Not until the respondents approached emaciation did some parents or friends beco~e conc med and withdraw their praise. SignifIcant ~~ers also bec~e m~easmgly aware of the anorexics' compulsive exerc:smg~ p:eocc~pation WIth food preparation (but not consumption), and n~alistic eating 'patterns (such as cutting food into minute pieces and eating only certam foods at prescribed times). For bulimics, friends or famlly members began to question how the respondents could eat such, large amounts of food (often in excess of 10,000 calories a day) and stay slim. Significant others also noticed cal-
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ducement of vomiting. Several bulimics were "cau~ht in the act,~' bent over commodes. Generally, friends and family reqUIred substa~tial evidence before believing that the respondents' binging or purgmg was no longer sporadic.
SECONDARY DEVIANCE Heightened awareness of group me~bers' e.a~g ~/eha:i~r ~ltimately led others to label the respondents anoreXIC or bulmuc.. Respondents differed in their histories of being labeled and accepting the labels. Generally first termed anorexic by friends, family, or medical personnel, the anorexics initially vigorously denied the la~eL !hey felt they were not "anorexic enough," not skinny enough; Robm dld not regard herself as having the "skeletal" appearan: e ~h~ associa~ed wit~ anorexia nervosa. These group members found It difficult to differentiate between socially approved modes of weight loss-eating less and exercising more-and the extremes of those behaviors. In fact: many. of their activities-cheerleading, modeling, gymnastics, aeroblcs-remforced their pursuit of thinness. Like other anorexics, Chris felt she was being "ultra-healthy," with "total control" over her bod~. For several respondents, admitting they were anoreXlC followed the realization that their lives were disrupted by their eating disorder. Anorexics' inflexible eating patterns unsettled family meals and holiday gatherings. Their regimented lifestyle of compulsively scheduled activities-exercising, school, and meals-precluded ~y spontaneous social interactions. Realization of their adverse behavlOrs preceded the anorexics acknowledgment of their subnormal body weight and size. Contrasting with the anorexics, the binge! purgers, wher: confronted, more readily admitted that they were bulirnic and th~~ therr me~s of weight loss was" abnormal." Teresa, for example, knew very well that her bulimic behavior was "wrong and unhealthy," although "worth the physical risks." While the bulimics initially maintained that their p~rg~ ing was only a temporary weight-loss method, they eventually realIzed that their disorder represented a "loss of control." Although these respondents regretted the self-indulgence, "shame," ~d, "wasted ,time/' they aclmowledged their growing dependence on bmgmg/purgmg for . weight management and stress regulation. 111e application of anorexic or bulimic labels preci~ltate~ ~econdary deviance, wherein group members internalized these IdentItIes. Secondary deviance refers to norm violations which are a respor:se to society's labeling: "secondary deviation ... becomes a means of SOCIal ,
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the societal reaction to primary deviance" (Lernert, 1967:17). In contrast to primary deviance, secondary deviance is generally prolonged, alters the individual's self-concept, and affects the performance of his/her social roles. As secondary deviants, respondents felt that their disorders "gave a purpo~e" to their lives. Nicole resisted attaining a normal weight because It was not "her"-she accepted her anorexic weight as her "true" weight. For Teresa, bulimia become a "companion"; andJulie felt "every aspect of her life," including time management and social activities, was affected by her bulimia. Group members' eating disorders became the salient element of their self-concepts, so that they related to familiar people and new acquaintances as anorexics or bulimics. For example, respondents regularly compared their body shapes and sizes with those of others. They also became sensitized to comments about their appearance, whether or not the remarks were made by someone aware of their eating disorder. With their behavior increasingly attuned to their eating disorders, group members exhibited role engulfment (Schur, 1971). TIlrough acceptmg anorexic or bulimic identities, individuals centered activities ~ound their deviant r?le, downgrading other social roles. Their obligations as students, family members, and friends became subordinate to their eao,ng and exercising rituals. Socializing, for example, was gradually cur~ailed because it interfered with compulsive exercising, binging, or purgmg. Labeled anorexic or bulimic, respondents were ascribed a new status with a different set of role expectations. Regardless of other positions the individuals occupied, their deviant status, or master status (Hughes, 1958; Becker, 1973), was identified before all others. Among group members, Nicole, who was known as the "school's brain," be~ame known as the "school's anorexic." No longer viewed as conformmg model individuals, some respondent:; were termed "starving waifs" or "pigs." Because of their identities as deviants, anorexics' and bulimics' interac~~ns with others were altered. Group members' eating habits were scruhruzed by friends and family and used as a "catch-all" for everything negative that happened to them. Respondents felt self-conscious ~ow:d individuals who knew of their disorders; for example, Robin lmagmed people "watching and whispering" behind her. In addition, group members believed others expected them to "act" anorexic or bulimic. Friends of some anorexic group members never offered them food or .drinl<., assuming continued disinterest on the respondents' part. While bemg hospitalized, Denise felt she had to prove to others she was not
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
443
still vomiting, by keeping her bathroom door open. Other bulimics, who lived in dormitories, were hesitant to use the restroom for normal purposes lest several friends be huddling at the door, listening for vomiting. In general, individuals interacted with the respo~dents largely ~n the basis of their eating disorder; in doing so, they remforced anoreXIC and bulimic behaviors. Bulimic respondents, whose weight-loss behavior ,:as not.gene:ally detectable from their appearance, tried earnestly to hi~e therr bulimia by binging and purging in secret. Their main purpose ill concea~e~t was to avoid the negative consequences of being known as a bulirruc. For these individuals, bulimia connoted a "cop-out": like "weak anorexics," bulimics pursued thinness but yielded to urges to eat. Respondents felt other people regarded bulimia as "gross" and had little sympathy for the sufferer. To avoid these stigmas or "spoiled identities," the bulimics shrouded their behaviors. Distinguishing types of stigma, Goffman (1963) describes discredited (visible) stigmas and discreditable (invisible) stigmas. Bulimics, whose weight was approximately normal or even slightly elevated, harbored discreditable stigmas. Anorexics, on the other hand, suffered both discreditable and discredited stigmas-the latter due to tl1eir emaciated appearance. Certain anorexics were more reconciled than the bulimics. to their sigmas: for Brian, the "stigma of anorexia was better than the stigma of being fat." Common to the stigmatized individuals was an inability to interact spontaneously with others. Respondents were constantly on guard against topics of eating and body size. Both anorexics and bulimics were held responsible by others for their behavior and presumed able to "get out of it if they tried." Many anorexics reported being told to "just eat more," while bulimics were enjoined to simply "stop eating so much." Such appeals were ma~e without regard for the complexities of the problem. Ostracized by certam friends and family members, anorexics and bulimics felt increasingly isolated. For respondents, the self-help group presented a nonthreatening forum for discussing their disorders. Here, they found mutual understanding, empathy, and support. Many participants viewed BANISH as a haven from stigmatization by "others." Group members, as secondary deviants, thus endured nega~ve consequences, such as stigmatization, from being labeled. As they mtemalized the labels anorexic or bulimic, individuals' self-concepts were significantly influenced. When others interacted with the respondents on the basis of their eating disorders, anorexic or bulimic identities were encouraged. Moreover, group members' efforts to counteract the deviant labels were thwarted by their master statuses.
444
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Dime E. Taub
Labeling and Deviance
DISCUSSION Previous research on eating disorders has dwelt almost exclusively on medical and psychological facets. Although necessary for a comprehensive understanding of anorexia nervosa and bulimia, these approaches neglect the social processes involved. The phenomena of eating disorders transcend concrete disease entities and clinical diagnoses. Multifaceted and complex, anorexia nervosa and bulimia require a holistic research design, in which sociological insights must be included. A limitation of medical/psychiatric studies, in particular, is researchers' use of a priori criteria in establishing salient variables. Rather than utilizing predetermined standards of inclusion, the present study allows respondents to construct their own reality. Concomitant to this innovative approach to eating disorders is the selection of a sample of self-admitted anorexics and bulimics. Individuals' perceptions of what it means to become anorexic or bulimic are explored. Although based on a small sample, findings can be used to guide researchers in other settings. With only five to ten percent of reported cases appearing in males (Crisp, 1977; Stangler and Printz, 1980), eating disorders are primarily a women's aberrance. The deviance of anorexia nervosa and bulimia is rooted in the visual objectification of women and the attendant slimness norm. Indeed, purposeful starvation and binging/purging reinforce the notion that "a society gets the deviance it deserves" (Schur, 1979:71). As recently noted (Schur, 1984), the sociology of deviance has generally bypassed systematic studies of women's norm violations. Like male deviants, females endure label applications, internalizations, and fulfillments. The social processes involved in developing anorexic or bulimic identities comprise the sequence of conforming behavior, primary deviance, and secondary deviance. With a background of exceplional adherence to conventional norms, especially the striving for thinness, respondents subsequently exhibit the primary deviance of starving or hinging/purging. Societal reaction to these behaviors leads to secondary deviance, wherein respondents' self-concepts and master statuses become anorexic or bulimic. Within this framework of labeling theory, the persistence of eating disorders, as well as the effects of stigmatization, are elucidated. Although during the course of this research some respondents alleviated their symptoms through psychiatric help or hospital treatment programs, no one was labeled "cured." An anorexic is considered recovered when weight is' nonnal for hvo years; a bulimic is termed rernvprp,..j ::lfh:>l' ha;..,n- """""' .... ~n~ c..""
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445
·a/BuIum··a Association Newsletter, 1985). Thus, deviance disAoo~ . . U d 1) or efforts after normalIzatIOn to counteract le eavowaI (Sh ur, 197 , . viant labels, remains a topic for future exploratIOn.
NOTES l.
Although instructive, an integration of the medical, psychological, an.d sociocultural perspectives on eating disorders is beyond the scope of thiS
paper. d' . f sex Exceptions to the neglect of sociocultural fa.ctors .are lSCUSSIOns ~ , .,- _ . liz tion in the development of eatmg dISorders. AnorextcS grrl roI e socm a . . ff "'ty cl ish a pearance has been interpreted as a rejectIon 0 ,errunuu an . wo:anhood (Orbach, 1979; Bruch, 1981; Orbach, 1985): ~n contrast, buhrnics have been characterized as over-conforming to tradItional female seX roles (Boskind-LodahL 1976). AlUl0ugh a group experience for self-defined bulimics has been reported 3. (Boskind-Lodahl, 1976), the r~se~rcher, ~o:n th~ outs~t, focused on Gestalt db haviorist techniques wlthm a femmlst onentahon. . . ~ne e:planation for [ewer anorexics than bulimics in the s~ple IS that, m 4. the general population, anorexics are oLltnumb:red b~ b~limlcs ~t ~ or 10 to 1 (Law-son, as reprinted in American Anorexla/Buliml~ A~soclatlon Newsletter, 1985:1). The proportion ofbttlimics to anoreXlCS m the sa~ple . 65 t 1 1 addition compared to bulimics, anorexics may be less likely , IS.0. n cl d tlex to attend a self-help group as they have a greater len ency to eny le istence of an eating problem (Httmphries et al., 1982). However, the four anorexics in the present study were among the members who attended the meetings most often. . . . . 5. Interactions in the families of anorexics and buhrrucs ~lght seem.devlant in being inordinately close. However, in the l.arger SO~letal ~ontext, the _ f '} members epitomize the norms of famIly coheslvene.~s. Perhaps tm Y aml usua 1 ill 111l:!'I·r occurrence these families are stiU within the realm of COI1farmity. Humphries and coUeagues (1982:202) r~,~er toY1e hlg~11y enmeshed and protective" family as part of the Idealized family myth.
2.
I
"
•
11
REFERENCES American Anorexia/Bulimia Association 1983 Correspondence. April. American Anorexia/Bulimia Association Newsletter 1985 8(3). Becker, Howard S.
"
. . 1.
r' . . . n .. __ _
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31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub
447
Boskind-Lodahl,1vLlrlene 1976 "Cinderella's stepsisters: A feminist perspective on anorexia nervosa and bulimia," Signs, Journal of Women in Culture and Society 2:342-56.
Hughes, EvereH C. 1958 Men and their Work. New York: Free Press.
Boskind-White, Marlene 1985 "Bulimarexia: A sociocultural perspective." Pp. 113-26 in S. W. Emmett (ed.), Theory and Treatment of Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: Biomedical, Sociocultural, and Psychological Perspectives. New York: Brunner IMazel.
Johnson, Craig L., Marilyn K Stuckey, Linda D. .Lewis, and Donald M. Schwartz . 1982 "Bulimia: A descriptive survey of 316 cases." International Journal of Eating Disorders 2(1):3-16.
Branch, C. H. Hardin and Unda J. Eunnan 1980 "Social attitudes toward patients with anorexia nervosa." American Journal of Psychiatry 137:631-32. Bruch, Hilde 1981 "Developmental considerations of anorexia nervosa and obesity," Canadian Journal of Psychiatry 26:212-16.
Humphries, Laurie L., Sylvia Wrobel, and H. TIlomas Wiegert 1982 "Anorexia nenrosa." American Family Physician 26:199-204.
Kalucy, R. 5., A. H. Crisp, and Britta Harding 1977 "A study of 56 families with anorexia nervosa." British Journal of Medical Psychology 50,381-95. Lacey, Hubert J., Sian Coker, and S. A Birtclmell . " 1986 "Bulimia: Factors associated with its etiology and mamtenance. International Journal of Eating Disorders 5:475-87.
Chemin, IGm 1981 The Obsession: Reflections on the Tyranny of Slenderness. New York: Harper and Row.
Lemert, Edwin M. 1951 Social Pathology. New York: McGraw-Hill. 1967 Human Deviance, Social Problems and Social ControL Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall.
Crisp,AH. 1977 "The prevalence of anorexia nervosa and some of its associations in the general population." Advances in Psychosomatic Medicine 9,38-47.
tvlinuchin, Salvador, Bernice L. Rosman, and Lester Baker . 1978 Psychosomatic Families: Anorexia Nervosa in Context. Cambndge, MassamuseHs: Harvard University Press.
Crisp, A H., R. L. Palmer, and R. 5. Kalucy 1976 "How common is anorexia nenrosa? A prevalence study." British Journal of Psychiatry 128:549~54. DeJong, William 1980 "'The stigma of obesity: The consequences of naive assumptions concerning the causes of physical deviance." Journal of Health and Social Behavior 21:75-87. Fox, re 1976
c. and N. Md. James '~orexia nenrosa: A study of 44 strictly defined cases." New Zealand Medical Journal 84:309-12.
Gamer, David M., Paul E. GarfinkeL Donald Schwartz, and :Michael Thompson 1980 "Cultural expectations of thinness in women." Psychological Reports 4N83-91. Goffman, Erving 1963 Stigma. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall. Halmi, Katherine A., James R. Falk, and Estelle Schwartz 1981 "Binge-eating and vomiting: A sunrey of a college population." Psychological Medi~ine 11:697-706. Herzog, David B.
Orbach, Susie 1979 Fat is a Feminist Issue. New York: Berkley. 1985 "Visibility/invisibility: Social considerations in anorexia nervosa-a feminist perspective." Pp. 127-38 in S. W. E~ett (ed:), Theo~ and Treatment of Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: BlOmedlcal, SoclOculhlral, and Psychological Perspectives. New York: Brunner/Mazel. Ritenbaugh, Cheryl .. 1982 "Obesity as a culLure-bound syndrome." Culture, Medtctne and Psychiatry 6,347-6l. Russell, Gerald 1979 "Bulimia nervosa: An ominous variant" of anorexia nervosa." Psychological Medicine 9:429-48. Schlesier-Stropp, Barbara . ' 1984 "Bulimia: A review of the literature." Psychological Bullehn 95,247-57. SchUI, Edwin M. 1971 Labeling Deviant Behavior. New York: Harper ~nd Row. 1979 Interpreting Deviance: A Sociological Introduction. New York Harper and Row. 1984 Labeling Women Devianl: Gender, Stigma and Social Control. New York: Random House.
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Schwartz, Donald M. and Michae1 G. Thompson 1981 "00 anorectics get well? Current research and future needs." American Journal of Psychiatry 138:319-23. Schwartz, Donald M., Michael G. Thompson, and Craig 1. Johnson 1982 "~orexia nervosa an.cl bulimia: The soda-cultural context." Intema_ tionalJoumal of Eating Disorders 1(3):20-36. Selvini-Palazzoli, Mara 1978 Self-Starvation: From Individual to Family Therapy in the Treatment of Anorexia Nervosa. New York: Jason Aronson. Stangler, ROnnie S. and Adolph M. Printz 1980 "DSM-ill: Psychiatric diagnoSis in a university population." American Journal of Psychiatry 137:937-40. Theander, Sten 1970 'Anorexia nervosa." Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica Supplement 214:24-3l. Thompson, Michael G. and Donald M. Schwartz 1982 "Life adjustment of women with anorexia nervosa and anorexic-like behavior." International Journal of Eating Disorders 1(2):47-60. Willi, Jurg and Samuel Grossmann 1983 "Epidemiology of anorexia nervosa in a defined region of Switzerland." American Journal of Psychiatry 140:564-67.
CHAPTER
VII Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
To this point in Theories of Deviance we have presented the theoretical perspectives that we feel have the greatest impact on the sociology of deviant behavior. The first three chapters, on the functional. social disorganization, and anomie theories, all stress study of the structural conditions in a complex society that are conducive to the emergence and continuation of deviant behavior. For the functionalists, deviance is perceived as a natural counterpart to social organization that may result in greater social solidarity among nondeviants. Social disorganization theorists recognize the relationship between deviance and social structure but view deviant behavior as fundamentally disruptive of the existing social order. Anomie theorists generally conclude that deviance is endemic to modern, industrialized, highly differentiated societies. Control theorists, discussed in Chapter V, take a different approach that emphasizes the deviance-inhibiting effects of being closely bound to others in the SOciety. They conclude that deviance is apt to be greater in societies where interpersonal social bonds are weak or broken. Because control theorists start from the assumption that deviance is natural, they maintain that it is conforl1lihj that requires explanation. The control or containment of deviant impulses depends on the ties that bind a person to family, school, work, or other conventional institutions. Chapter N on diHerential association and neutralization and Chapter VI on labeling theory further shift attention from concern with social structure to focus on the interactional processes that lead to and maintarn patterns of deviant behavior. Differential association and neutralization theorists explain deviance as an outgrowth of socialization processes, maintaining that it is through social interaction with significant others that people !ean: the ~arioU5 m~~v~~, te~,?-~es: ~~.ra-
450
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
theorists direct attention to those who define what and who is to be considered deviant and the effects of these evaluations on those who are labeled deviant. For the theorists whose work is represented in this chapter on the effects of politics and class, the rules of a society grow out of political power struggles between different interest groups, and rule enforcement is largely dependent on whether it is in the interest of the most powerful individuals or groups to have the rules enforced. The ability to label another person's behavior as unacceptable--that is, as deviantand to punish that person for it is a sign of privilege and status. To be labeled deviant and to become the object of informal sanctions as well as formal enforcement proceedings is symbolic of impotence and low status. Accordingly, deviance, conceived as publicly labeled wrongdoing, may be viewed as a product of power politics and class conflict .in society. From this perspective, deviance is the result of a political process wherein the politically powerful rely on law to neutralize the actions of the less powerful. For joseph R. Gusfield (Reading 32), the "status politics" of the Temperance movement in the United States in the early part of the twentieth century provides an example of an attempt by a powerful group to impose its rules on the society. In his opinion, the questions of whether the production, sale, and consumption of alcoholic beverages should be legal is a matter not of morality but of the dominance of competing subcultural groups. Gusfield sees the passage of the 18th Amendment in 1919 and the consequent establishment of Prohibition as a symbolic victory of middle-class, ruraL Protestant nativists over urban, Catholic, recent immigrants. A social condition was created in which, Gusfield says, "Even if the law is not enforced or enforceable, the symbolic import of its passage is important to the reformer. It settles the controversies between those who represent clashing cultures. The public support of one conception of morality at the expense of another enhances the prestige and self-esteem of the victors and degrades the culture of the losers." In sum, the ability of a group to establish a rule that publicly labels a particular behavior as deviant is one measure of that group's power and status. An alternative to Gusfield's political theory of deviance, with its emphasis on conflicts among ethnic, religious, or cultural groups, is to explain it in terms of class conflict. This was the intent of "the new criminology" proposed by three English sociologists, Ian Taylor, Paul Walton, and Jock Young, in their book by that title published in 1973. They set out to critique existing criminological theory and to propose guidelines for an alternative way of theorizing about crime and deviance. The central tenet of thp rririn11.Q ;C" I-J.. ... l. l.L _ _ '_
1
451
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
isolated from the more general study of society-a situation that frequently results in the treatment of crime as a patholOgical phenomenon that requires harsh measures of correction. Instead, Taylor, Walton, and YOLIDg call for "a social theory of deviance" based on the economic and political ideas of Karllvlarx, as they have been interpreted by Marxist theorists: With Marx, we have been concerned 'ltVith the social arrangements that have obstructed, and the social contradictions that enhance, man's choice of achieving full sociality-a state of freedom from material necessity, and (therefore) of material incentive, a release from the constraints of forced production, an abolition of the forced division of labour, and a set of social arrangements, therefore, in which there would be no politically, economically, and socially induced need to crimlnalize deviance. 1
Every sociologist who has been identified with the new criminology has not adopted Marx's terminology and approach to tl,e extent that Steven Spitzer does in Reading 35. Richard Quinney, for example, presents in Reading 33 his theory of the social reality of crime in six precise propositions. This compact statement also pulls together many of the ideas that have been developed in the preceding chapters. For example, Quinney's statement that "Crime is not inherent in behavior, but is a judgment made by some about the actions and characteristics of others" was anticipated by Emile Durkheim in the chapter entitled "The Normal and the Pathological" in Tile Rllles of Sociological Method (see Reading 1). Quinney emphasizes that criminal definitions are formulated and appUed according to the interests of those groups in society that have the power to translate their interests into public policy or law-members of the highest social classes. Persons whose interests are not represented in the formulation and application of law-members of the lower social classes-are more likely to be defined as criminals. Alexander Liazos elaborates on these points in his article "The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts, and 'Preverts' " (Reading 34). Liazos would agree with Quinney about the role of class conflict in deviance designation. He contends, however, that the role of power in designating who and what are deviant has not been adequately explored, and writers on deviance have not related the phenomena they are studying to broader social issues. For the most part, then, the labeling perspective (see Chapter VI) has been oriented toward showing how the deviant is really no different from the rest of us. Liazos asserts that by focusing on the "dramatic" nature of the conventionally understood forms of deviance (prostitution, homosexuality, delinquency), and simDIv rnnrpnhT::Ili71nrr ,.,"'....I--:l;n J.. ... J.. ... T.~~
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unormals." Furthermore, by concentrating on "those who have been successfully labeled as 'deviants'," especially their identities and subcultural characteristics, this approach neglects an in-depth examination of other forms of deviance in American society. This is particularly evident with regard to what Liazos calls the "covert institutional violence" carried on by the politically powerful in the United States, which leads ~o suc~ sod.al ills as povert-y. war, racism, and sexism. The role of power m desIgnations of deviance has been examined only in terms of middle-level officials such as the police, who do not have the power to make basic policy decisions. Liazos calls for a move away from the "exciting deviant" to an analysis of the deviance-producing activities of the politically powerful. Liazos's appeal for more thorough exploration of the political economy of deviance is echoed in Steven Spitzer's "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance" (Reading 35). Spitzer shows how capitalist societies, by the nature of their economic system of production, generate "problem populations," especially the poor and the unemployed, that must somehow be controlled. He distinguishes between two broad types of deVIant groups: "social junk," such as children, the dependent elderly, or the mentally ill, who represent a costly yet relatively harmless burden to society, and "social dynamite," such as alienated, unemployed youths, who can be dangerous and threatening. Social junk is usually controlled through the agencies of the tl1erapeutic and welfare state, while social dynamite is normally processed through the legal system. He argues th~~ modern welfare-state capitalism is presently faced with a growing cnsls-the overproduction of deviant populations-and suggests several strategies, such as the decarceration movement, that may be used to alleviate it. . T.he Analysis and Critique section for this chapter is "The New Cnmmology: Continuity in Criminological Theory" (Reading 36), by Robert E. M€ler. He exammes the assumptions of the various theoretical ~pproaches to deviance and how they have shifted in emphasis over time and relates each to the ideas that have come to characterize the new criminology: 1. 2. 3.
4.
5.
Society is dominated by a ruling elite. The interests of the ruling dass are formulated into criminal law. The police power of the state protects the vested interests of elites. Criminal sanctions are disproportionately applied against lower-class persons. Crime is fundamentallv the result of class conflict bp.twPf'n
According to Meier, this approach is not dramatically different from criminology's more established theoretical explanations of crime and criminal behavior, particularly those emanating from the social pathology perspective, the Chicago school, functionalism, and labeling theory. For Meier, the similarities of the new criminology and the more established theories are much greater than their differences. He argues that the main contribution of the new criminology may in fact amount to nothing more than rephrasing traditional ideas about crime and criminal behavior in political terms_ William j. Chambliss is the author of the Contemporary Applications selection for this chapter, a discussion of "State-Organized Crime" (Reading 37). This type of crime occurs when officials commit violations of the criminal law in pursuit of their jobs as representatives of the state. Thus, the state becomes complicit in violation of the law. Historical examples discussed by Chambliss include piracy, smuggling, assassinations, criminal conspiracies, spying on citizens, illegal campaign contributions, and supporting terrorist activities. According to Chambliss, governments will enforce the laws against these activities when it suits their interests and, when it suits pursuit of the goals demanded of them, the same governments will violate their own laws against these activities. When we begin to understand that the officials of tl1e state will, under certain conditions, violate the very laws they are supposedly sworn to uphold, we can appreciate Chambliss's conclusion that "the study of state-organized crime serves as a reminder that crime is a political phenomenon and must be analyzed accordingly."
NOTE 1.
lan Taylor, Paul Walton and Jock Young, Tile New Criminology: For a Social Theory of Deviance (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), p. 270.
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32 Symbolic Crusade ]OSEPH R. GUSFIELD For many observers of American life the Temperance movement is evidence for an excessive moral perfectionism and an overly legalistic bent to American culture. It seems the action of devoted sectarians who aTe unable to compromise with human impulse. The legal measures taken to enforce abstinence display the reputed American faith in the power of Law to correct all evils. 1bis moralism and utopianisrn bring smiles to the cynical and fear to the sinners. Such a movement seems at once naive, intolerant, saintly, and silly. Although controversies of morality, religion, and culture have been recognized as endemic elements of American politics, they have generally been viewed as minor themes in the interplay of economic and class conflicts. Only in recent years have American historians and social scientists de-emphasized economic issues as the major points of dissension in American society. 1 We share this newer point of view, especially in its insistence on the significant role of cultural conflicts in American politics. Our social system has not experienced the sharp class organization and class conflict which have been so salient in European history. Under continuous condItions of relative affluence and without a feudal resistance to nineteenth-century commercialism and industry, American society has possessed a comparatively high degree of consensus on economic matters. In its bland attitude toward class issues, political controversy in the United States has given only a limited role to strong economic antagonisms. Controversies of personality, cultural difference, and the nuances of style and morality have occupied part of the political stage. Consensus about fundamentals of governmental form, free enterprise-economy, and church power has left a political vacuum which moral issues have partially filled. Differences between ethnic groups, cultures, and religious organizations have been able to assume a greater importance than has been true of societies marked by deeper economic divisions. " .. ,agreement on fundamentals will permit almost every kind of social conflict, tension and difference to find political expression,"2 It is within an analytical context of concern with noneconomic issues that we have studied the Temperance movement. This is a study of moral reform as a political and social issue. We have chosen the Temperance movement because of its persistence and power in the history of the United States. Typical of moral reform efforts, Temperance has usually been the attempt of the moral people, in this case the abstainers, Reprinted from Symbolic Crl/sade by Joseph R. Gusfield (Urbana-Champaign: University of IlIinois Press, 1963). Second edition convrip-ht lQRr:; h\1 T"""nh [;I "",,!';n!,..I
32. Joseph R. Gusfield
455
to correct the behavior of the immoral people, in this case the drinkers, The issue has appeared as a moral one, divorced from any direct economic interests in abstinence or indulgence. This quality of "disinterested reform" is the analytical focus of our study, This book is an interpretation rather than a history because our interest is largely with the analysis of what is already known of the movement rather than with the presentation of new data. Some new field data will be presented and some new primary historical material has been gathered, A large nwnber of already published materials has been utilized. Our interest is not a definitive history of the movement. We have written within the methodological perspective of the sociologist lnterested in the general process of moral reform, Our concern is with the structural and cultural roots of the movement and with the consequences of Temperance activities and goals for its adherents, its "victims/' and the relations between these two. The sociologist picks up where the historian closes, Put in another way, he delves into the assumptions with which the historian begins. The amount written about Temperance is monumentally staggering to someone who tries to read it all. Claims, counterclaims, factual histories, and proceedings of organizations overwhelm us in their immensity. Despite the plethora of documents and analyses, we are left with either partisan writings, histories which preach, or analyses which fail to go beyond general remarks about moral perfectionism, rural-urban conflict, or the Protestant envy of the sinner,3 It is here, in the analysis of the process, that the sociologist focuses his interest. He studies just that which is 50 often ad hoc to the interpretation of the historian. In this book we will describe the relation between Temperance attitudes, the organized Temperance movement, and the conflicts between divergent subculhues in American society. Issues of moral reform are analyzed as one way through which a cultural group acts to preserve, defend, or enhance the dominance and prestige of its own style of living within the total society. In the set of religious, ethnic, and cultural communities that have made up American society, drinking (and abstinence) has been one of the significant consumption habits distinguishing one subculture from another. It has been one of the major characteristics through which Americans have defined their own cultural commitments. The "drunken bum," lithe sophisticated gourmet," or the "bluenosed teetotaler" are all terms by which we express our approval or disapproval of cultures by reference to the moral position they accord drinking. Horace Greeley recognized this cultural base to politicalloyalties and animosities in the 1844 elections in New York state: "Upon those Working Men who stick to their business, hope to improve their 1
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
to the grogsJlOp [italics added] the appeals of Loco-Focosim fell comparatively harmless; while the opposite class were rallied with unprecedented unanimity against us.'" Precisely because drinking and nondrinking have been ways to identify the members of a subculture, drinking and abstinence became symbols of social stratus, identifying social levels of the society whose styles of life separated them culturally. They indicated to what culture the actor was committed and hence what social groups he took as his models of imitation and avoidance and his points of positive and negative reference for judging his behavior. The rural, native American Protestant of the nineteenth century respected Temperance ideals. He adhered to a culture in which self-control, industriousness, and impulse renunciation were both praised and made necessary. Any lapse was a serious threat to his system of respect. Sobriety was virtuous and, in a community dominated by middle-class Protestants, necessary to social acceptance and to self-esteem. In the twentieth century this is less often true. As Americans are less work-minded, more urban, and less theological, the same behavior which once brought rewards and self-assurance to the abstainer today more often brings contempt and rejection. The demands for self-control and individual industry count for less in an atmosphere of teamwork where tolerance, good interpersonal relations, and the ability to relax oneself and others are greatly prized. Abstinence has lost much of its utility to confer prestige and esteem. Our attention to the significance of drink and abstinence as symbols of membership in status groups does not imply that religiOUS and moral beliefs have not been important in the Temperance movement. We are not reducing moral reform to something else. Instead, we are adding something. Religious motives and moral fervor do not happen in vaclIq, apart from a specific setting. We have examined the social conditions which made the facts of other people's drinking especially galling to the abstainer and the need for reformist action acutely pressing to him. These conditions are found in the development of threats to the socially dominant position of the Temperance adherent by those whose style of life differs from his. As his own claim to social respect and honor are diminished, the sober, abstaining citizen seeks for public acts through which he may reaffirm the dominance and prestige of his style of life. Converting the sinner to virtue is one way; law is another. Even if the law is not enforced or enforceable, the symbolic import of its passage is important to the refonner. It settles the controversies between those who represent clashing cultures. The public support of one conception of morality at the expense of another enhances the prestige and self-esteem of the victors and degrades the culture of the losers.
32. Joseph R. Gusfield
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In its earliest development, Temperances was one way in which a declining social elite tried to retain some of its social power and leadership. The New England Federalist "aristocracy" was alarmed by the political defeats of the early nineteenth century and by the decreased deference shown their clergy. The rural fanner, the evangelical Protestant, and the uneducated middle class appeared as a rising social group who rejected the social status, as well as political power, of the Federalist leadership. In the first quarter of the nineteenth century, the moral supremacy of the educated was under attack by the frontiersman, the artisan, and the independent farmer. The Federalist saw his own declining status in the increased power of the drinker, the ignorant, the secularist, and the religious revivalist. During the 1820's the men who founded the Temperance movement sought to make Americans into a clean, sober, godly, and decorous people whose aspirations and style of living would reflect the moral leadership of New England Federalism. If they could not control the politics of the country, they reasoned that they might at least control its morals. Spurred by religious revivalism, Temperance became more ultraist than its founders had intended. The settling of frontiers and the influx of non-Protestant cultures increased the symbolic importance of morality and religious behavior in distinguishing between the reputable and the disreputable. During the 1830's and 1840's, it became a large and influential movement, composed of several major organizations. Religious dedication and a sober life were becoming touchstones of middle-class respectability. Large numbers of men were attracted to Temperance organizations as a means of self-help. In the interests of social and economic mobility, they sought to preserve their abstinence or reform their own drinking habits. Abstinence was becoming a symbol of middleclass membership and a necessity for ambitious and aspiring young men. It was one of the ways society could distinguish the industrious from the ne'er-do-well; the steady worker from the unreliable drifter; the good credit risk from the bad gamble; the native American from the immigrant. In this process the movement lost its association with New England upper classes and became democratized. The political role of Temperance emerged in the 1840's in its use as a symbol of native and immigrant, Protestant and Catholic tensions. The "disinterested reformer' of the 1840's was likely to see the curtailment of alcohol sales as a way of solving the problems presented by an immigrant, urban poor whose culture clashed with American Protestantism. He sensed the rising power of these strange, alien peoples and used Temperance legislation as one means of impressing upon the immigrant the central power and dominance of native American Protestant
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
morality. Along with Abolition and Nativisffi, Temperance formed one of a trio of major movements during the 1840's and 1850's. Throughout its history, Temperance has revealed two diverse types of disinterested reform. By the last quarter of of the nineteenth century, these had become clear and somewhat distinct elements within the movement. One was an assimilative reform. Here the reformer was sympathetic to the plight of the urban poor and critical of the conditions produced by industry and the factory system. This urban, progressivist impulse in Temperance reflected the fears of an older, established social group at the sight of rising industrialism. While commercial and professional men saw America changing from a country of small towns to one of cities, they were still socially dominant. The norm of abstinence had become the public morality after the Civil War. In the doctrines of abstinence they could still offer the poor and the immigrants a way of living which had the sanction of respect and success attached to it. Through reform of the drinker, the middle-class professional and businessman coped with urban problems in a way which affirmed his sense of cultural dominance. He could feel his own social position affirmed by a Temperance argument that invited the drinker (whom he largely identified with the poor, the alien, and the downtrodden) to follow the reformer's habits and lift himself to middle-class respect and income. He was even able to denounce the rich for their sumptuary sophistication. He could do this because he felt secure that abstinence was still the public morality. It was not yet somebody else's America. A more hostile attitude to reform is found when the object of the reformer's efforts is no longer someone he can pity or help. Coercive reform emerges when the object of reform is seen as an intractable defender of another culture, someone who rejects the reformer's values and really doesn't want to change. The champion of assimilative reform viewed the drinker as part of a social system in which the reformer's culture was dominant. On this assumption, his invitation to the drinker to reform made sense. TIle champion of coercive reform cannot make this assumption. He sees the object of reform as someone who rejects the social dominance of the reformer and denies the legitimacy of his life style. Since the dominance of his culture and the social status of his group are denied, the coercive reformer turns to law and force as ways to affirm it. In the last quarter of the nineteenth century, coercive reform was most evident in the Populist wing of the Temperance movement. As a phase of the rural distrust of the city, it was allied to an agrarian radicalism which fought the power of industrial and urban political and economic forces. Already convinced that the old, rural middle class was losing out in the sweeD of historY. the PODulist a.'i Tp.mnf'rO'lnrp
459
32. Joseph R. Gusfield
could not assume that his way of life was still dominant in America. He had to fight it out by political action which would coerce the public definition of what is moral and respectable. He had to shore up his waning self-esteem by inflicting his morality on everybody. As America became more urban, more secular, and more Catholic, the sense of declining status intensified the coercive, Populist elements in the Temperance movement. The political defeat of Populism in both North and South heightened the decline, so evident in the drama of Wil!iam Jennings Bryan. With the development of the Anti-Saloon League in 1896, the Temperance movement began to separate itself from a complex of economic and social reforms and concentrate on the cultural struggle of the traditional rural Protestant society against the developing urban and industrial social system. Coercive reform became the dominating theme of Temperance. It culminated in the drive for national Prohibition. The Eighteenth Amendment was the high point of the struggle to assert the public dominance of old middle-class values. It established the victory of Protestant over Catholic, rural over urban, tradition over modernity, the middle class over both the lower and the upper strata. The significance of Prohibition is in the fact that it happened. The establishment of Prohibition laws was a battle in the struggle for status between two divergent styles of life. It marked the public affirmation of the abstemious, ascetic qualities of American Protestantism. In this sense, it was an act of ceremonial deference toward old middle-class culture. If the law was often disobeyed and not enforced, the respectability of its adherents was honored in the breach. After all, it was their law that drinker had to avoid. If Prohibition was the high point of old middle-class defense, Repeal was the nadir. As the Prohibition period lengthened and resistance solidified, Temperance forces grew more hostile, coercive, and nativist. The more assimilative, progressivist adherents were alienated from a movement of such soured Populism. In 1928, anti-Catholic and antiurban forces led the movement with a "knockout punch" thrown at Al Smith in an open ring. By 1933, they had lost their pmver and their fight. In the Great Depression both the old order of nineteenth-century economics and the culture of the Temperance ethic were cruelly discredited. The repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment gave the final push to the decline of old middle-class values in American culture. Since 1933, the Temperance movement has seen itself fighting a losing battle against old enemies and new ones. In contemporary American society, even in his own local communities, it is the lotal abstainer who is the despised
,
,
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
longer his allies. The respectable, upper middle-class citizen can no longer be safely counted upon to support abstinence. vVhat underlies the tragic dilemmas of the Temperance movement are basic changes in the American social system and culture during th_e past half-century. As we have changed from a commercial society to an industrial onc, we have developed a new set of values in which 5e1£control, impulse renunciation, discipline, and sobriety are no longer such hallowed virtues. Thorstcin Veblen, himself the epitome of the rural, middle-class Protestant, saw the new society of consumers coming into being. In his satirical fashion, he depicted a society in which leisure and consumption fixed men's status and took precedence over the workmindedness and efficiency concerns of his own Swedish-American farm communities. More recentl)" David Riesman has brilliantly depicted the major outlines of this society by pointing to the intensity with which modem Americans are replacing an interest in work and morality with an interest in interpersonal relations and styles of consuming leisure. For the" other-directed" man neither the intolerance nor the seriousness of the abstainer is acceptable. Nor is the intense rebelliousness and social isolation of the hard drinker acceptable. Analysis of American alcohol consumption is consistent with this. The contemporary American is less likely than his nineteenth-century ancestor to be either a total abstainer or a hard drinker. Moderation is his drinking watchword. One must get along with others and liquor has proven to be a necessary and effective facilitator to sociability. It relaxes reserve and permits fellowship at the same time that it displays the drinker's tolerance for some moral lapse in himself and others. For those who have grown up to believe in the validity of the Temperance ethic, American culture today seems a strange system in which Truth is condemned as Falsehood and Vice as Virtue. The total abstainer finds himself the exponent of a point of view which is rejected in the centers of urban and national society and among their followers at all levels of American communities. Self-control and foresight made sense in a scarcity, production-minded economy. In an easygoing, affluent society, the credit mechanism has made the Ant a fool and the Grasshopper a hero of the counter-cyclical maintenance of consumer demand. In a consllmption-centered society, people must learn to have fun and be good mixers if they are to achieve respect. Not Horatio Alger but Playboy magazine is the instructor of the college boy who wants to learn the skills of social ascent. Though they have their noses to the grindstone, their feet must tap to the sound of the dance. It is at this point that the study of Temperance assumes significance for a general understanding of contemporary American politics and social tensions. Socialsvstems and culturf's clip slowlv. lp;winfY thpir rprlr
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rruards behind to fight delaying action. Even after they have ceased to be ;elevant economic groups, the old middle classes of America are still searching for some way to restore a sense of lost respect. The dishonoring of their values is a part of the process of cultural and social change_ A heightened stress on the importance of tradition is a major response of such "doomed classes." This fundamentalist defense is a primary motif in the currant phase of Temperance. To different degrees and within different areas, the contemporary Temperance adherent is part of the fear guard with which small-town America and commercial capitalism fight their losing battle against a nationalized culture and an industrial economy of mass organizations. Increasingly, he fights alone. Churches, schools, and public officials are disdainful of "rigid" attitudes and doctrines. Within the American middle class, in almost all communities, there is a sharp split between two stylistic components. In one the abstainer can feel at home. Here the local community of neighbors and townsmen is the point of reference for behavior. In the other, the more cosmopolitan centers of urban institutions are mediated to the town through national institutions, communications media, and the two-way geographical mobility which brings in newcomers and sends out college students for training elsewhere. The clash between the drinker and the abstainer reflects these diverse references. The localistic culture clings to the traditional while the easier, relaxed, modem ways are the province of the national culture. It is this national culture which becomes the more prestigeful and powerful as America becomes more homogeneous. The anger and bitterness of the doomed class" is by no means an Iiirrational" reaction. There has been a decline in the social status of the old middle class and in the do:mmance of his values. This sense of anger at the loss of stratus and bitterness about lowered self-esteem pervades the entire Temperance movement today. It takes a number of forms. At one extreme and within certain Temperance elements, it is expressed as a general, diffuse criticism of modern political and social doctrines and a defense of tradition in almost all areas of American life. At the other extTeme, within other parts of the Temperance movement, it is part of the intense nationalism, economic conservatism, and social stagnation of the radical right. (11lis latter is especially true of the Prohibition Party.) TIle study of the American Temperance movement is a phase of the process by which, as Richard Hofstadter expressed it, a large part of the Populist-Progressive tradition has turned sour, become ill-liberal and ill-tempered."6 The values and the economic position of the native American Protestant, old middle class of individual enterprisers have been losing out in the shuffle of time and social change. The efforts of the 11
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their values to defend and restore their lost prestige have taken a number of forms. In fluoridation, domestic Communism, school curricula, and the United Nations, they have found issues which range tradition against modernity. Temperance has been one of the classic issues on which divergent cultures have faced each other in America. Such issues of style have been significant because they have been ways through which groups have tried to handle the problems which have been important to them.
NOTES 1.
2. 3.
4. 5.
6.
33. Richard Quinney
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
For manifestations of this viewpoint in American history see Lee Benson, The Concept of Jacksoniall DemocTnCt) (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1961), and Louis Hartz, Tlte Liberal Tradition in America (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1955). These trends in historiography are discussed in John Higham (ed.), The RecollstmctioH of American History (New York: Harper Torch Books, 1962). Benson, op. cif., p. 275. A major exception to this is John A. Krout, The Origins of Prohibition (New York: A. A. Knopf, 1925). Even Peter Odegard's otherwise excellent work on Pressure Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1928) is marred by his utter lack of sympathy with Temperance goals. The same moralistic condemnation of moralism limits the utility of the very recent work of Andrew Sinclair, Prohibition (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1962). Quoted in Benson, op. cit., p. 199. The term "Temperance" is an inadequate name for a movement which preaches total abstinence rather than "temperate" use of alcohol. The word was affixed to the movement in its early years (1820's) when its doctrine was not yet as extreme as it later came to be. Richard Hofstadter, The Age of Reform (New York: A. A. Knop£, 1955), pp. 19-20.
33 The Social Reality of Crime
RICHARD QUINNEY The theory contains six propositions and a number of statements within the propositions. With the first proposition I define crime. The next four are the explanary units. In the final proposition the other five are collected to form a composite describing the social reality of crime. The Reprinted from Richard Quiriney, The Social Reality a/Crime (Boston: Little, Brown and rnmnrlnV , q7fn rnmr ...;O'ht {Q lQ7n h" R;,.h" ...t1
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propositions and their integration into a theory of crime reflect the assumptions about explanation and about man and society outlined above. 1 Proposition 1 (Definition of Crime): Crime is a definition of human conduct that is created by authorized agents in a politically organized society. This is the essential starting point in the theory-a definition of crime-which itself is based on the concept of definition. Crime is a definition of behavior that is conferred on some person by others. Agents of the law (legislators, police, prosecutors, and judges), representing segments of a politically organized society, are responsible for formulating and administering criminal law. Persons and behaviors, therefore, become criminal because of the formulation and applicatio11 of criminal definitions. Thus, crime is created. By viewing crime as a definition, we are able to avoid the commonly used "clinical perspective," which leads one to concentrate on the quality of the act and to assume that criminal behavior is an individual pathology.2 Crime is not inherent in behavior, but is a judgment made by some about the actions and characteristics of others.3 This proposition allows us to focus on the formulation and administration of the criminal law as it touches upon the behaviors that become defined as criminal. Crime is seen as a result of a process which culminates in the defining of persons and behaviors as criminal. It follows, then, that tile greater the number of crimillnl defillitions fOl1llulated and applied, the greater the amollnt of crime. Proposition 2 (Formulation of Criminal Definitions): Criminal definitions describe behaviors that conflict mth the interests of the segments of society that have the power to shape public policy. Criminal definitions are formulated according to the interests of those segments (types of social groupings) of society which have the power to translate their interests into public policy. The interests-based on desires, values, and norms-which are ultimately incorporated into the criminal law are those which are treasured by the dominant interest groups in the society. " In other words, those who have the ability to have their interests represented in public policy regulate the formulation of crimina) definitions. That criminal definitions are formulated is one of the most obvious manifestations of conflict in society. By formulating criminal law (in_1. • .lc ___
I.
•
.
464
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
sions), some segments of society protect and perpetuate their mvn interests. Criminal definitions exist, therefore, because some segments of society are in conflict with others. s By formulating criminal definitions these segments are able to control the behavior of persons in other segments. It follows that t1w greater the conflict in interests betwem the segI1tel1tS of a society, the greater tile probability tlmf tile power segl1lents will fonlllllate cril1lillul definitions. The interests of the power segments of society are reflected not only in the content of criminal definitions and the kinds of penal sanctions attached to them, but also in the legal policies stipulating how those who come to be defined as "criminal" are ,to be handled. Hence, procedural rules are created for enforcing and administering the criminal law. Policies are also established on programs for treating and punishing the criminally defined and for controlling and preventing crime. In the initial criminal definitions or the subsequent procedures, and in correctional and penal programs or policies of crime control and prevention, the segments of society that have power and interests to protect are instrumental in regulating the behavior of those who have conflicting interests and less power. 6 Finally, law changes with modifications in the interest structure. When the interests that underlie a criminal law are no longer relevant to groups in power, the law will be reinterpreted or altered to incorporate the dominant interests. Hence, the probability that cl1'minal dtjinitions will be jonfllllated is increased by such factors as (1) changing social conditio1ls, (2) emerging interests, (3) illcreasil1g de7llGl1ds that political, economic, alld religious interests be protected, GIld (4) changiHg conceptions oftlle public interest. The social history of law reflects changes in the interest structure of society. Proposition 3 (Application of Criminal Definitions): Criminal definitions are applied by the segments of society that have the power to shape the enforcement and administration of criminal law.
The powerful interests intervene in all stages in which criminal definitions are created. Since interests cannot be effectively protected by merely formulating criminal law, enforcement and administration of the law are required. The interests of the powerful, therefore, operate in applying criminal definitions, Consequently, crime is "political behavior and the criminal becomes in fact a member of a 'minority group' without sufficient public support to dominate the control of the police power of the state."7 Those whose interests conflict with the interests represented in the law must either change their behavior or possibly find it defined as "criminal,"
33. Richard Quinney
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Tile probabilihJ tllat criminal definitions will be applied vm1es according to the extmt to which tIle belwviors o/the powerless conflict with ale interests of tile power segments. Law enforcement efforts and judicial activity are likely to be increased when the interests of the powerful are threatened by the opposition's behavior. Fluctuations and variations in the application of criminal definitions reflect shifts in the relations of the various segments in the power structure of society. Obviously, the criminal law is not applied directly by the powerful segments. They delegate enforcement and administration of the law to authorized legal agents, who, nevertheless, represent their interests. In fact, the security in office of legal agents depends on their ability to represent the society's dominant interests. Because the interest groups responsible for creating criminal definitions are phYSically separated from the groups to which the authority to enforce and administer law is delegated, local conditions affect the manner in which criminal definitions are applied. s In particular, communities vary i.n the law enforcement and administration of justice they expect. Application is also affected by the visibility of acts in a community and by its norms about reporting possible offenses. Especially important are the occupational organization and ideology of the legal agents. 9 Thus, the probability that criminal dejitlitiolls will be applied is influenced by sllch cOl1111ltlllity and orgaJlizatiol1al factors as (1) c0ll1111tmity expectatio1ls of law enforcement and administratioll, (2) the visibility and ]JHblic J'eporting of offenses, and (3) the occupational organizatioll, ideologl), and actions of the legal agents to whom the al1tlJOrio) to enforce and administer crimil1allaw is delegated. Such factors determine how the dominant interests of society are implemented in the application of criminal definitions. The probability ti1at criminal definitions will be applied in specific situations depends on the actions of the legal agents. In the final analysis, a criminal definition is applied according to an evaluation by someone charged with the authority to enforce and administer the law. [n the course of "criminalization," a criminal label may be affixed to a person because of real or fancied attributes: "Indeed, a person is evaluated, either favorably or unfavorably, not because he does something, or even because he is something, but because others react to their perceptions of him as offensive or inoffensive."lU Evaluation by the definers is affected by the way in which the suspect handles U1e situation, but ultimately their evaluations and subsequent decisions determine the criminality of human acts. Hence, tlte more legal agents evailwte belwviors and persons as worthy of criminal dejinitioll, tIle greater tile probability that ctimina! defil1itiol1s will be applied.
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Proposition 4 (Development of Behavior Patterns in Relation to Criminal Definitions): Behavior patterns are structured in segmentally organized society in relation to criminal definitions, and within this context persons engage in actions that have relative probabilities of being defined as criminal.
Although behavior varies, all behaviors are similar in that they represent the behnvior patterns of segments of society. Therefore, all persons-whether they create criminal definitions or are the objects of criminal definitions-act according to normative systems learned in relative social and cultural settings.l1 Since it is not the equality of the behavior but the action taken against the behavior that makes it criminat that which is defined as criminal in any society is relative to the behaviar patterns of the segments of society that fonnulate and apply criminal definitions. Consequently, persons in the segments of socieh) whose behnvior pattems are not represented in formulating and applying criminal definitions are more likely to act in ways tlIat will be defined as criminal titan those in the Se~71llellts
tlwt fonllulate and apply criminal definitions.
Once behavior patterns are established with some regularity within the respective segments of society, individuals are provided with a framework for developing personal actioll patterns. These patterns continually develop for each person as he moves from one experience to another. It is the development of these patterns that gives rus behavior its own substance in relation to criminal definitions. Man constructs rus own patterns of action in participating with others. It follows, then, that the probabilih} that a person will develop action
patterns that have a high potential of being defined as criminal depends on the relative sllbstance of (1) structured opportunities, (2) Zeaming experiences, (3) interpersonal associations and identifications, and (4) self-conceptioJ1s. Throughout his experiences, each person creates a conception of himself as a social being. Thus prepared, he behaves according to the anticipated consequences of rus actions.12 During experiences shared by the criminal definers and the criminally defined, personal action patterns develop among the criminally defined because they are 50 defined. After such persons have had continued experience in being criminally defined, they learn to manipulate the application of criminal definitions. 13 Furthermore, those who have been defined as criminal begin to conceive of themselves as criminal; as they adjust to the definitions imposed upon them, they learn to play the role of the criminal. l .! Because of others'· reactions, therefore, persons may develop personal action patterns that increase the likelihood of their being defined as
33. Richard Quinney
467
criminal in the future. That is, illcreased experience with criminal defini-
tiol1s increases the probability of developing actiolls that JJJay be subseqllently defined as criminal. Thus, both the criminal definers and the criminally defined are involved in reciprocal action patterns. The patterns of both the definers and the defined are shaped by their common, continued, and related experiences. The fate of each is bound to that of the other. Proposition 5 (Construction of Criminal Conceptions): Conceptions of crime are constructed and diffused in the segments of society by various means of communication. The "real world" is a social construction: man with the help of others creates the world in wruch he lives. Social reality is thus the world a group of people create and believe in as their own. This reality is constructed according to the kind of "knowledge" they develop, the ideas they are exposed to, the manner in which they select information to fit the world they are shaping, and the manner in wruch they interpret these conceptions. 1S Man behaves in reference to the social meanings he attaches to his experiences. Among the constructions that develop in a society are those which determine what man regards as crime. Wherever we find the concept of crime, there we will find conceptions about the relevance of crime, the offender's characteristics, and the relation of crime to the social order.l 6 These conceptions are constructed by communication. In fact, the con-
struction of criminal conceptions depends all the portrayal of crime il1 all personal alld mass c01H1IHmications. By such means, criminal conceptions are constructed and diffused in the segments of a society. The most critical conceptions are those held by the power segments of society. These are the conceptions that are certain of becoming incorporated into the social reality of crime. In general, then, tile JJJore the power seg-
ments are concerned about crime, the greater the probability tllat criminal definitions will be created and that belzaviol' pattcms will develop in oppositioJl to criminal definitions. The formulation and application of criminal definitions and the development of behavior patterns reJated to criminal definitions are thus joined in full circle by the construction of criminal conceptions. Proposition 6 (The Social Reality of Crime): TIle social reality of crime is constructed by the formulation and application of criminal definitions, the development of behavior patterns related to criminal definitions, and the construction of criminal conceptions.
468
33. Richard Quinney
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
FIGURE 33.1
MODEL OF THE
SOCIAL REAU1l' OF
469
pp. 119-127; Quinney, "Crime in Political Perspective," Americal1 Be/mv· ioml Scientist, 8 (December, 1964), pp. 19-22; Quinney, "Is Criminal Behavior Deviant Behavior?" Britisll Journal of Criminologtj, 5 (April, 1965),
CRIME
pp. 132-142. See Jane R Mercer, "Social System Perspective and Clinical Perspective: Frames of Reference for Understanding Career Patterns of Persons Labelled as Mentally Retarded," Social Problems, 13 (Summer, 1966), pp . 18-34. 3. This perspective in the study of social deviance has been developed in Becker, Outsiders; Kai T. Erikson, "Notes on the Sociology of Deviance," Social Problems, 9 (Spring, 1962), pp. 307-314; John 1. Kitsuse, "Societal Reactions to Deviant Behavior: Problems of Theory and Method," Social Problems, 9 (Wmter, 1962), pp. 247-256. Also see Ronald L. Akers, "Problems in the Sociology of Deviance: Social Definitions and Behavior," 50cilll Forces, 46 (June, 1968), pp. 455-465; David J. Bordua, "Recent Trends: Deviant Behavior and Social Control," Amwls of tile American Academy of Political and Socilll Science, 369 (January, 1967), pp. 149-163; Jack P. Gibbes, "Conceptions of Deviant Behavior: The Old and the New," Pacific Sociological Review, 9 (Spring, 1966), pp. 9-14; Clarence R Jeffery, "The Structure of American Criminological Thinking," Journal of Crimina I Law, CrimiJlology and Police Sciellce, 46 (January-February, 1956), pp. 658-672; Austin T.Turk, "Prospects for Theories of Criminal Behavior," Joumal of Crimillal Law, Crimillology and Police Sciellce, 55 (December, 1964), pp. 454-461. . 4. See Richard C. Fuller, "Morals and the Criminal Law," JOIlntal of Criminal Law, Crimif!ologtJ mid Police ScieHce, 32 (March-April, 1942), pp. 624-630; Thorsten Sellin, Culture Conflict alld Crime (New York: Social Science Research Council, 1938), pp. 21-25; Clarence R. Jeffery, "Crime, Law and Social Structure/' Journal of Criminal Law, Crimillology and Police Science, 47 (November-December, 1956), pp. 423-435; John J. Honigmann, "Value Conflict and Legislation," Social Problems, 7 (Summer, 1959), pp. 34-40; George Rusche and OHo Kirchheimer, PUllislullellt IlIld Social Structure (New York: Columbia University Press, 1939); Roscoe Pound, All 1ntradllctioJl to tIle Philosophy of Law (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1922). 5. I am obviously indebted la the conflict formulation of George B. VoId, Theoretical Crimillology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1958), especially pp. 203-242. A recent conflict approach to crime is found in Austin T. Turk, "Conflict and Criminality," Americll1l Sociological Review, 31 (June, 1966), pp. 338-352. 6. Considerable support for this proposition is found in the following studies: William J. Chambliss, "A SOCiological Analysis of the Law of Va~ grancy," Social Problems, 12 (Sununer 1964), pp. 66-77; Kai T. Erikson, Wayward Puritalls (New York: John Wiley, 1966); Jerome HalL Theft, Law and Society, 2nd ed. (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrilt 1952); Clarence R. Jeffery, "The Development of Crime in Early England/' jOll1"11al of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science, 47 (March-April, 1957), pp. 647-666;
2.
Formulation of criminal definitions
..
..
Application of criminal definitions
I X Construction of criminal conceptions
1 Development of behavior patterns in relation to criminal definitions
.
..
These five propositions can be collected into a composite. The theory, accordingly, describes and explains phenomena that increase the probability of crime in society, resulting in the social reality of crime. Since the first proposition is a definition and the sixth is a composite, the body of the theory consists of the four middle propositions. These form a model, as diagrammed in Figure 33.1, which relates the propositions into a theoretical system. Each proposition is related to the others forming a theoretical system of developmental propositions interacting with one another. The phenomena denoted in the propositions and their relationships culminate in what is regarded as the amount and character of crime in a society at any given tinle, that is, in the social reality of crime.
NOTES 1.
For earlier background material, see Richard Quinney, ''A Conception of ."" ____ ..J,, .. ' .•. _r • . ".. 1
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470
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
versity Press, 1965); Rusche and Kirchheimer, Punishment and Social Stnlcture; Andrew Sinclair, Era of Excess: A Social HistonJ of the Prohibition Movement (New York: Harper &Row, 1964); Edwin H. Sutherland, "The Sexual Psychopath Law," Jotlmal of Criminal Law, Crimil1%g1j and Police Sciellce, 40 Oanuary-February, 1950), pp. 543-554. 7. VoId, Theoretical Crimillology, p. 202. Also see Irving Louis Horowitz and Martin Liebowitz, "Social Deviance and Political Marginality: Toward a Redefinition of the Relation Between SOCiology and Politics," Social Problems, 15 (Wmter, 1968), pp. 280-296. 8. See Michael Banton, The Policemall mul tile COIllIJ/llllity (London: Tavistack, 1964); Egon Bittner, "The Police on Skid-Row: A Study of Peace Keeping," American Sociological Review, 32 (October, 1967), pp. 669-715; John P. Clark, "Isolation of the Police: A Comparison of the British and American Situations," Joul1lal of Criminal Law, Crimillologt) alld Police Science, ~6 (September, 1965), pp. 307-319; Nathan Goldman, The D(fferelltinl SelectlOll of Juvenile Offenders for Court Appearance (New York National Co~cil on ~rime and .Delinquency, 1963); James Q. Wuson, Varieties of PolIce BeltavlOr (Cambndge: Harvard University Press,1968). 9. Abraham S. Blumberg, Criminal Justicc (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1967); David J. Bordua and Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "Command, Control and Charisma: Reflections on Police Bureaucracy," American Journal of Sociology, 72. Guly, ~966), pp. 68-76; Aaron V. Cicouret The Social Organization of Jt/vell/le Justice (New York John Wiley, 1968); Arthur Neiderhoffer, Bellilld the Shield: Tlte Police ill Urban Society (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 19~7); J~ome H. Skolnicl<;:, Justice Withollt Trial: Lnw Enforcement ill Democratic SocIety (New York: John Wiley, 1966); Authur 1. Stinchcombe, "Institutions of Privacy in the Determination of Police Administrative Prac.tice," Amcrican Joumal of Sociologtj, 69 (September, 1963), pp. 150-160; Davld Sudnow; "Normal Crimes: Sociological Features of the Penal Code in a Public ~:fender Office," Social Problems, 12 (Winter, 1965), pp. 255-2:6; Wilham A Westley, "Violence and tile Police," American JOl/rIwl of SOCIOlogy, 59 Guly, 1953), pp. 34-41; Arthur Lewis Wood, Criminal Lawyer (New Haven: COllege & University Press, 1967). 10. Turk, "Conflict and Criminality," p. 340. For research on the evaluation of suspects by policemen, see Irving Piliavin and Scott Briar, "Police Encounters with Juveniles," American !ol/mal of Sociology, 70 (September, 1964), pp. 206-214.
11.
12.
Assumed within the theory of the social reality of crime is Sutherland's th~ory of differential as~ociation. See Edwin H. Sutherland, Principles of O·I/IH.1I01ogy, 4th ed. (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1947). An analysis of the differential association theory is found in Melvin 1. De Fleur and Richard Quinney, "AReformulation of Sutherland's Differential Association Theory and a Strategy for Empirical Verification," !oHnlal of Rese[Jl"cfJ in Crime a1ld DeIillqllellCt), 3 Ganuary, 1966), pp. 1-22. On the operant nature of criminally defined behavior, see Robert L. Burgess and Ronald 1. Akers, "A Differential Association-Reinforcement
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•
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33. Richard Qumney
13.
14.
15.
16.
471
128-147; C. R. Jeffery, "Criminal Behavior and LeamingTheory," Journal of Crimillal Law, Crimi1lology alld Police Science, 56 (September, 1965), pp. 294-300. A discllssion of the part the person plays in manipulating the deviant defining situation is found in Judith Lorber, "Deviance as Performance: The Case of Illness," Social Problems, 14 (Winter, 1967), pp. 302-310. Edwin M. Lemert, Humllll Deviance, Social Problems Illld Social Control (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1964), pp. 40-64; Edwin M. Lemert, Social PatllOlogtj (New York McGraw-Hill, 1951), pp. 3-98. A related and earlier discussion is in Frank Tannenbaum, Crime and tlJe COl/mulIIih) (New York Columbia University Press, 1938), pp. 3....iH. See Berger and Luckrnann, The Social ConstructioH of Reality. Relevant research on tile diffusion of information is discussed in Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of IlI/lOvations (New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1962). Research on public conceptions of crime is only beginning. See Alexander 1. Clark and Jack P. Gibbs, "Social Control: A Refonnulation," Social Problems, 12 (Spring, 1965), pp. 398-415; Thomas E. Dow, Jr., "The Role of Identification in Conditioning Public Attitude Toward the Offender," JOlll"Jlal of Crilllilla/ Lnw, Cril1!iJlOlogtj alld Police SciCllce, 58 (March, 1967), pp. 75-79; William P. Lentz, "Social Stalus and Attitudes Toward Delinquency Control," JOJlrnal of Researcll ill Crime alld Delinquency, 3 Guly, 1966), pp. 147-154; Jennie McInlyre, "Public Attitudes Toward Crime and Law Enforcement," A1lllals of the American Academy of Political alld Social Sciellce, 374 (November, 1967), pp. 34-46; Anastassios D. Mylonas and WaIter C. Reckless, "Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Law and Legal Institutions," JOl/mal of Crimillal Law, Crimillology and Police Scicnce, 54 (December, 1963), pp. 479-484; Elizabeth A. Rooney and Don C. Gibbons, "Social Reactions to 'Crimes Without Victims,''' Social Problems, 13 (Spring, 1966), pp. 400-410.
472
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
34 The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts, and IPrevertsJ:j: ALEXANDER LIAZOS C. Wright Mills left a rich legacy to sociology. One of his earliest, and best, contributions was "The Professional Ideology of Social Pathologists" (1943). In it, Mills argues that the small-town, middle-class background of writers of social problems textbooks blinded them to basic problems of social structure and power, and led them to emphasize metioristic, patchwork types of solutions to America's "problems." They assumed as natural and orderly the structure of small-town America; anything else was pathology and disorganization. Moreover, these "problems," "ranging from rape in rural districts to public housing," were not explored systematically and theoretically; they were not placed in some large political, historical, and social context. They were merely listed and decried. 1 Since :Mills wrote his paper, however, the field of social problems, social disorganization, and social pathology has undergone considerable changes. Beginning in the late 1940's and the 1950's, and culminating in the 1960's, the field of "deviance" has largely replaced the social problems orientation. This new field is characterized by a number of features which distinguish it from the older approach. 2 First, there is some theoretical framework, even though it is often absent in edited collections (the Rubington and Weinberg (1968) edited book is an outstanding exception). Second, the small-town morality is largely gone. Writers claim they will examine the phenomena at handprostitution, juvenile delinquency, mental illness, crime, and othersobjectively, not considering them as necessarily harmful and immoraL Third, the statements and theories of the field are based on much more extensive, detailed, and theoretically-oriented research than were those of the 1920's and 1930's. Fourth, writers attempt to fit their theories to Reprinted from Alexander Liazos, "The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts, and 'Preverts'," Social Problems, vo!. 20, no. 1 (Summer 1972), pp. 103-120. Copyright © 1972 by the Society for the Study of Social Problems. By permission of the author and publisher. 'The subtitle of this paper came from hvo sources. (a) A Yale undergraduate once told me that the deviance course was known among Yale students as "nuts and sluts." (b) A former colleague of mine at Quinnipiac College, John Bancroft, often told me that the deviance course was "all about those 'preverts'." When I came to write this paper, r discovered that these descriptions were correct, and concise summaries of my argument. I thank both of them. I also want to thank Gordon Fellman for a very careful reading of the first draft of the manuscript, and for discussing with me the general and specific issues I raise here.
34. Alexander Liazos
473
some central theories, concerns, and problems found in the general field of sociology; they try to transcend mere moralizing. The "deviant" has been humanized; the moralistic tone is no longer ever-present (although it still lurks underneath the explicit disavowals); and theoretical perspectives have been developed. Nevertheless, all is not well with the field of "deviance." Close examination reveals that writers of this field still do not try to relate the phenomena of "deviance" to larger social, historical, political, and economic contexts. The emphasis is still on the "deviant" and the "problems" he presents to himself and others,. not on the society within which he emerges and operates. I examined 16 textbooks in the field of "deviance/' eight of them readers, to determine the state of the field. (They are preceded by an asterisk in the bibliography.) Theoretically, eight take the labelling interactionist approach; three more tend to lean to that approach; four others argue for other orientations (anomie, structural-functional, etc.) or, among the readers, have an "eclectic" approach; and one (McCaghy, et aI., 1968) is a collection of biographical and other statements by "deviants" themselves, and thus may not be said to have a U1eoretical approach (although, as we shall see, the selection of the types of statements and "deviants" still implies an orientation and viewpoint). A careful examination of these textbooks revealed a number of ideological baises. These biases became apparent as much from what these books leave unsaid and unexarnined, as from what they do say. The field of the sociology of deviance, as exemplified in these books, contains three important theoretical and political biases. 1. All writers, especially those of the labelling school, either state explicitly or imply that one of their main concerns is to IllllllaJlize and normalize the "deviant," to show that he is essentially no different from us. But by the very emphasis on the "deviant" and his identity problems and sub-culture, the opposite effect may have been achieved. The persisting use of the labels" deviant" to refer to the people we are considering is an indication of the feeling that people are indeed different. 2. By the overvvhelrning emphasis on the "dramatic" nature of the usual types of "deviance"-prostitution, homosexuality, juvenile delinquency, and others-we have neglected to examine other, more serious and harmful forms of "deviance." I refer to covert institutiollal violence (defined and discussed below) which leads to such things as poverty and exploitation, the war in Vietnam, unjust tax laws, racism and sexism, and so on, which causes psychic and material suffering for many Americans, black and white, men and women. 3. Despite explicit statements by these authors of the importance of power in the designation of what is "deviant," in their substantive analy-
474
34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
ses they show a profound unconcern with power and its implications. The really powerful, the upper classes and the power elite, those Gouldner (1968) calls the "top dogs," are left essentially unexamined by these sociologists of deviance. I
Always implicit, and frequently explicit, is the aim of the labelling school to humanize and normalize the "deviant." Two statements by Becker and Matza are representative of this sentiment.
via1lce and Identity. Szasz (1970: xxv-xxvi) has urged that we abandon use of the term:
For a number of reasons, however, the opposite effect may have been achieved; and "deviants" still seem different. I began to suspect this reverse effect from the many essays and papers I read while teaching the "deviance" course. The clearest example is the repeated use of the word "tolerate." Students would write that we must not persecute homosexuals, prostitutes, mental patients, and others, that we must be "tolerant" of them. But one tolerates only those one considers less than equal, morally inferior, and weak; those equal to oneself, one accepts and respects; one does not merely allow them to exist, one does not "tolerate" them. The repeated assertion that "deviants" are "at least as good as anyone else" may raise doubts that this is in fact the case, or that we believe it. A young woman who grew up in the South in the 1940's and 1950's told Quinn (1954:146): 'You know, I think from the fact that I was told so often that I must treat colored people with consideration, I got the feeling that I could mistreat them if I wanted to.' " Thus with "deviants"; if in fact they are as good as we are, we would not need to remind everyone of this fact; we would take it for granted and proceed from there. But our assertions that "deviants" are not different may raise U
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Lofland (1969:2, 9-10) expresses even stronger reservations about the use of the term, and sees clearly the sociological, ethical, and political problems raised by its continued use. Yet, the title of his book is De-
The growth of the sociological view of deviant phenomena involved, as major phases, the replacement of a correctional stance by an appreciation of the deviant subject, the tacit purging of a conception of pathology by a new stress on human diversity, and the erosion of a simple distinction between deviant and conventional phenomena, resulting from intimate familiarily of the world as it is, which yielded a more sophisticated view stressing cOlllplexity (Matza, 1969:10).
na,-",
separate field of sociology for "deviants" if there were not something different about them? May it be that even we do not believe our statements and protestations? The continued use of the word "deviant" (and its variants), despite its invidious distinctions and connotations, also belies our explicit statements on the equality of the people under consideration. To be sure, some of the authors express uneasiness over the term. For example, we are told, we emphasize that we do not attach any value judgement, explicitly or implicitly, either to the word "deviance" or to those describing their behavior or beliefs in this book (McCaghy, et al., 1968:v).
In the course of our work and for who knows what private reasons, we fall into deep sympathy with the people we are studying, so that while the rest of society views them as unfit in one or another respect for the deference ordinarily accorded a fellow citizen, we believe that they are at least as good as anyone else, more sinned against then sinning, (Becker,1967:100-101).
tho
475
.,.
Words have lives of their own. However much sociologists insist that the tenn "deviant" does not diminish the worth of the person or group 50 categorized, the implication of inferiority adheres to the word. ~ deed, sociologists are not wholly exempt from blame: they deSCrIbe addicts and homosexuals as deviants, but never Olympic champions or Nobel Prize winners. In fact, the term is rarely applied to people with admired characteristics, such as great wealth, superior skills, or fame-whereas it is often applied to those with despised characteristics, such as poverty, lack of marketable skills, or infamy. . . The term "social deviants" ... does not make sufficiently explicltas the terms "scapegoat" or "victim" do-that majorities usually categorize persons or groups as "deviant" in order to set them apart as inferior beings and to justify their social control, oppression, persecution, or even complete destruction.
Terms like victimization, persecution, and oppression are more accurate descriptions of what is really happening. But even Gouldner (1968), in a masterful critique of the labelling school, while describing social conflict, calls civil-rights and anti-war protesters "political deviants." He points out clearly that these protesters are resisting openly, not slyly, conditions they abhor. GouIdner is discussing political struggles; oppression and resistance to oppression; conflicts over values, morals, interests, and power; and victimization. Naming such protesters "deviants," even if political deviants, is an indication of the deep penetration within our minds of certain prejudices and orientations. Given the use of the term, the definition and examples of "deviant" reveal underlying sentiments and views. Therefore, it is important that _ •• ___ ...l_C: __ ...l ___ ": __ ll ....1.. ... __ ....: __
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
34. Alexander Liazos
477
one: "Because younger sOciologists have found deviance such a fertile and exciting field of their own work, and because students share these feelings, deviance promises to become an even more important area of sociological research and theory in the coming years." (Douglas, 1970a:3).
icills of the far left and the far right, homosexuals, militant blacks, convicts and mental hospital patients, mystics, narcotic addicts, LSD and Marijuana users, illicit drug dealers, delinquent boys, racially mixed couples, hippies, health-food users, and bohemian artists and village eccentrics (Simmons, 1969:10).
The lists and discussions of "deviant" acts and persons reveal the writers' biases and sentiments. These are acts which, "like robbery, burglary or rape [arel 01 a simple and dramatic predatory nature ... " (The President's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice, in Dinitz, et al., 1969:105). All 16 texts, without exception, concentrate on actions and persons of a "dramatic predatory nature," on "preverts." This is true of both the labelling and other schools. TIle following are examples from the latter:
Sinunons (1969:27,. 29, 31) also informs us that in his study of stereotypes of "deviants" held by the public, these are the types he gave to people: homosexuals, beatniks, adulterers, marijuana smokers, political radicals, alcoholics, prostitutes, lesbians, ex-mental patients, atheists, ex-convicts, intellectuals, and gamblers. In Lemert (1967) we find that except for the three introductory (theoretical) chapters, the substantive chapters cover the following topics: alcohol drinking, four; check forgers, three; stuttering, two; and mental illness, two. Matza (1969) offers the following list of "deviants" and their actions that "must be appreciated if one adheres to a naturalistic perspective": paupers, robbers, motorcycle gangs, prostitutes, drug addicts, promiscuous homosexuals, thieving Gypsies, and "free love" Bohemians (1969:16). finally, Douglas' collection (1970a) covers these forms of "deviance": abortion, nudism, topless barmaids, prostitutes, homosexuals, violence (motorcycle and juvenile gangs), shoplifting, and drugs. The omissions from these lists are staggering. The covert, institutional forms of "deviance" (part Il, below) are nowhere to be found. Reading these authors, one would not know that the most destructive use of violence in the last decade has been the war in Vietnam, in which the US. has heaped unprecedented suffering on the people and their land; more bombs have been dropped in Vietnam than in the entire World War H. lvloreover, the robbery of the corporate world-through tax brealcs, fixed prices, low wages, pollution of the environment, shoddy goods, etc.-is passed over in our fascination with "dramatic and predatory" actions. Therefore, we are told that "while they certainly are of no greater social importance to us than such subjects as banking and accounting [or military violence], subjects such as marijuana use and motorcycle gangs are of far greater interest to most of us. While it is only a coincidence that our scientific interests correspond with the emotional interest in deviants, it is a happy coincidence and, I believe, one that should be encouraged" (Douglas, 1970a:5). And Matza (1969:17), in commenting on the "appreciative sentiments" of the "naturalistic spirit," elaborates on the same theme: "We do not for a moment wish that we could rid ourselves of deviant phenomena. We are intrigued by them. TIley are an intrinsic, ineradicable, and vital part of human society." An effort is made to transcend this limited view and substantive rrmr.:>rn ,.vil"h nr::lIT1::l!ir ::lnn n1"pn::l~nrv fnrm<; or "ripvi<1nrp." Seeker
Ten different types of deviant behavior are considered: juvenile delinquency, adult crime, prison sub-cultures, homosexuality, prostitution, suicide, homicide, alcoholism, drug addiction and mental illness (Rushing, 1969: preface).
Traditionally, in American sociology the study of deviance has focused on criminals, juvenile delinquents, prostitutes, suicides, the mentally ill, drug users and drug addicts, homosexuals, and political and religious radicals (lefton, et al., 1968:v). Deviant behavior is essentially violation of certain types of group nonns; a deviant act is behavior which is proscribed in a certain way. [It must be] in a disapproved direction, and of sufficient degree to exceed th.€ toleran~e ~mit of the community .... [such as] delinquency and crune, pr?stitution, homosexual behavior, drug addiction, alcoholism, mental dlSorders, suicide, marital and family maladjustment, discrimination against minority groups, and, to a lesser degree, role problems of old age (Clinard, 1968:28).
. Finally, we are told that these are some examples of deviance every SOCiety must deal vvith: ... mental illness, violence, theft, and sexual misconduct, as well as ... other similarly difficult behavior" (Dinitz, et nl., 1969:3). The list stays unchanged with the authors of the labelling school. ... in Pa~t.I, "The Deviant Act," I draw rather heavily on certain studies of hOffilclde, embezzlement, "naive" check forgery, suicide and a few other acts ... in discussing the assumption of deviant identity (Part il) and the.assumption of normal identity (Part IT), there is heavy reference to certam studIes of paranoia, "mental illness" more generally, and Alcoholics Anonymous and Synanon (lofland, 1969:34). HonUc.ide, suicide, alcoholism, mental illness, prostitution, and homosexualIty are among the forms of behavior typically called deviant, and they are among the kinds of behavior that will be analyzed rT nR::Inrl 1 Q":;Q·1 \ in .... l" .... "' .... ",.,., ..... nn- '"'""''' ..." ......... ,,~...l,,~.~ •• ,~~~ ~~1:..; __ 1 __ ~
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
34. Alexander Liazos
(1964:3) claims that the new (labelling) deviance no longer studies only "delinquents and drug addicts, though these classical kinds of deviance are still kept under observation." It increases its knowledge "of the processes of deviance by studying physicians, people with physical handicaps, the mentally deficient, and others whose doings were formerly not included in the area." The powerful, "deviants" are still left untouched, however. This is still true with another aspect of the new deviance. Becker (1964:4) claims that in the labelling perspective "we focus attention on the other people involved in the process. We pay attention to the role of the non-deviant as well as that of the deviant." But we see that it is the ordinary non-deviants and the low-level agents of social control who receive attention, not the powerful ones (Gouldner, 1968). In fact, the emphasis is more on the subculture and identihJ of the "deviants" themselves rather than on their oppressors and persecutors. To be sure, in varying degrees all authors discuss the agents of social control, but the fascination and emphasis are on the "deviant" himself. Studies of prisons and prisoners, for example, focus on prison subcultures and prisoner rehabilitation; there is little or no consideration of the social, political, economic, and power conditions which consign people to prisons. Only now are we beginning to realize that most prisoners are political prisoners-that their "criminal" actions (whether against individuals, such as robbery, or conscious political acts against the state) result largely from current social and political conditions, and are not the work of "disturbed" and "psychopathic" personalities. 1his realization came about largely because of the writings of political prisoners themselves: Malcolm X (1965), Eldridge Cleaver (1968), and George Jackson (1970), among others.' In all these books, notably those of the labelling school, the concern is with the "deviant's" subculture and identity: his problems, motives, fellow victims, etc. The collection of memoirs and apologies of "deviants" in their own words (McCaghy, et nl., 1968) covers the lives and identities of "prevert deviants": prostitutes, nudists, abortionists, criminals, drug users, homosexuals, the mentally ill, alcoholics, and suicides. For good measure, some "militant deviants" are tlrrown in: Black Muslims, the SDS, and a conscientious objector. But one wonders about other types of "deviants": how do those who perpetuate the covert institutional violence in our society view themselves? Do they have identity problems? How do they justify their actions? How did the robber barons of the late 19th century steal, fix laws, and buy politicians six days of the week and go to church on Sunday? By what process can people speak of body counts and kill ratios with cool objectivity? On rhp."p ::Inn "irnil;!l' n,,,:u;;:Hnne ..'hie 'hn...... 1r {",n.---l ",11
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swers; indeed, the editors seem unaware that such questions should or could be raised. Becker (1964), Rubington and Weinberg (1968), Matza (1969), and Bell (1971) also focus on the identity and subcuiture of "prevert deviants." Matza, in discllssing the assumption of "deviant identity," uses as examples, and elaborates upon, thieves and marijuana users. In all these books, there are occasional references to and questions about the large social and political structure, but these are not explored in any depth; and the emphasis remains on the behavior, identity, and rehabilitation of the "deviant" himself. This bias continues in the latest book which, following the fashions of the times, has chapters on hippies and militant protesters (Bell, 1971). Even the best of these books, Sirnmons' Deviallis (1969), is not free of the overwhelming concentration of the "deviant" and his identity. It is the most sympathetic and balanced presentation of the lives of "deviants": their joys, sorrows, and problems with the straight world and fellow victims. Simmons demystifies the processes of becoming "deviant" and overcoming "deviance." He shows, as well as anyone does, that these victims are just like us: and the differences they possess and the suffering they endure are imposed upon them. Ultimately, however, Simmons too falls prey to the three biases shown in the work of others: (a) the "deviants" he considers are only of the "prevert" type; (b) he focuses mostly on the victim and his identity, not on the persecutors: and (c) the persecutors he does discuss are of the middle-level variety, the agents of more powerful others and institutions. Because of these biases, there is an implicit, but very clear, acceptance by these authors of the current definitions of "deviance." It comes about because they concentrate their attention on those who have been successfully labelled as "deviant," and not on those who break laws, fix laws, violate ethical and moral standards, harm individuals and groups, etc., but who either are able to hide their actions, or, when known, can deflect criticism, labelling, and punishment. The following are typical statements which reveal this bias. " ... no act committed by members of occupational groups [such as white-collar crimes], however W1cthical, should be considered as crime unless it is punishable by the state in some way" (Clinard, 1968:269). Thus, if some people can manipulate laws so that their unethical and destructive acts are not "crimes," we should cater to their power and agree that they are not criminals. Furthermore, the essence of the labelling school encourages this .insofar as a scientist bias, despite Becker's (1963:14) assertion that uses 'deviant' to refer to any rule-breaking behavior and takes as his U
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34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
hampered by the clisparities between the two categories." But as the following statements from Seeker and others show, this is in fact what the labelling school does do. Deviance is "created by society ... socinl groups create deviance by making the rules whose infraction constitutes deviance, and by applying those rules to particular people and labelling them as outsiders" (Becker, 1963:8-9). Clearly, accorcling to this view, in cases where no group has labelled another, no matter what the other group or individuals have done, there is nothing for the sociologist to study and clissect.
481
their best liberal intentions, these sociologists seem to perpetuate the very notions they think they debunk, and others of which they are unaware. II
The implication of these statements is that the sociologist accepts current, successful definitions of what is "deviant" as the only ones worthy of his attention. To be sure, he may argue that those labelled "deviant" are not really different from the rest of us, or that there is no act intrinsically "deviant," etc. By concentrating on cases of successful labelling, however, he will not penetrate beneath the surface to look for other forms of "deviance"-undetected stealing, violence, and destruction. When people are not powerful enough to make the "deviant" label stick on others, we overlook these cases. But is it not as much a social fact, even though few of us pay much attention to it, that the corporate economy kills and maims more, is more violent, than any violence committed by the poor (the usual subject of studies of violence)? By what reasoning and necessity is the "violence" of the poor in the ghettoes more worthy of our attention than the military boot-camps which numb recruits from the horrors of killing the "enemy" ("Oriental human beings," as we learned during the Calley trial)? But because these acts are not-labelled "deviant," because they are covert, institutional, and normal, their "deviant" qualities are overlooked and they do
As a result of the fascination with "nuts, sluts, and preverts", and their identities and subcultures, little attention has been paid to the unethical, illegal, and destructive actions of powerful individuals, groups, and institutions in or society. Because these actions are carried out quietly in the normal course of events, the sociology of deviance does not consider them as part of its subject matter. This bias is rooted in the very conception and definition of the field. It is obvious when one examines the treatment, or, just as often, lack of it, of the issues of violence, crime, and white-collar crime. Discussions of violence treat only one type: the dramatic and predatory" violence committed by individuals (usually the poor and minorities) against persons and property. For example, we read, "crimes involving violence, such as criminal homicide, assault, and forcible rape, are concentrated in the slums" (CUnard, 1968:123). Wolfgang, an expert on violence, has developed a whole theory on the "subculture of violence" found among the lower classes (e.g., in Rushing, 1969:233-40). And Douglas (1970a:part 4, on violence) includes readings on street gangs and the Hell's Angels. Thompson (1966), in his book on the Hell's Angels, devotes many pages to an exploration of the Angels' social background. In addition, throughout the book, and especially in his concluding chapter, he places the Angels' violence in the perspective of a violent, raping, and destructive society, which refuses to confront the reality of the Angels by clistorting, exaggerating, and romanticizing their actions. But Douglas reprints none of these pages; rather, he offers us the chapter where, during a July 4 weekend, the Angels are restricted by the police within a lakeside area, had a drunken weekend, and became a tourist sideshow and circus. In short, violence is presented as the exclusive property of the poor in the slums, the minorities, street gangs, and motorcycle beasts. But if we take the concept violence seriously, we see that much of our political and economic system thrives on it. In violence, a person is violatedthere is harm done to his person, his psyche, his body, his dignity, his ability to govern himself (Garver, in Rose, 1969:6). Seen in this way, a person can be violated in many ways; physical force is only one of them. As the readings in Rose (1969) show, a person can be violated by a system that denies him a decent job, or consigns him to a slum, or causes him brain damage by near-starvation during childhood, or manipulates
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What is important for the social analyst is not what people are by his lights or by his standards, but what it is that people construe one another and themselves to be for what reasons and with what conse-
quences (Lofland, 1969:35). ... deviance is in the eyes of the beholder. For deviance to become a social fact, somebody must perceive an act, person, situation, or event as a departure from social norms, must categorize the perception, must report the perception to others, must get them to accept this definition of the situation, and must obtain a response that conforms to this definition. Unless all these requirements are met, deviance as a social fact does not come into being (Rubington and Weinberg, 1968:v).
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Moreover, we must see that covert institutional violence is much more destructive than overt individual violence. We must recognize that people's lives are violated by the very normal and everyday workings of institutions. We do not see such events and situations as violent because they are not dramatic and predatory; they do not make for fascinating reading on the lives of preverts; but they kill, maim, and destroy many more lives than do violent individuals. Here are some examples. Carmichael and Hamilton (1967:4), in distinguishing between individual and illstitutional racism, offer examples of eadl: When white terrorists bomb a black church and kill five black children, that is an act of individual racism, widely deplored by most segments of the sOciety. But when in that same city-Birmingham,
Alabama-five hundred black babies die each year because of lack of proper food, shelter, and medical facilities, and thousands more are destroyed and maimed physically, emotionally and intellectually because of conditions of poverty and discrimination in the black community, that is a function of institutional racism. Surely this is violence; it is caused by the normal, quiet workings of institutions run by respectable members of the community. Many whites also suffer from the institutional workings of a profit-oriented society and eco~omy; poor health, dead-end jobs, slum housing, hunger in rural areas, and so on, are daily realities in their lives. This is surely much worse violence than any committed by the Hell's Angels or street gangs. Only these groups get stigmatized and analyzed by sociologists of deviance, however, while those good people who live in luxurious homes (fixing tax laws for their benefit) off profits derived from an exploitative economic system-they are the pillars of their community. Violence is committed daily by the government, very often by lack of action. The same system that enriches businessmen farmers with billions of dollars through farm subsidies cannot be bothered to appropriate a few millions to deal with lead poisoning in the slums. Young children ... get il by eating the sweet-tasting chips of peeling tenement walls, painted a generation ago with leaded paint. According to the Department of Health, Education and Welfare, 400,000 children are poisoned each year, about 30,000 in New York City alone. About 3,200 suffer permanent brain damage, 800 go blind or become so mentally retarded that they require hospitalization for the rest of their lives, and approximately 200 die. The tragedy is that lead poisoning is totally man-made and totally preventable. It is caused by slum housing. And there are now blood tests that can detect the disease, and medicines to cure it. GnJy a lack of purpose sentences 200 black children to die each year (Newfield, 1971)-'
34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
483
Newfield goes on the report that on May 20, 1971, a Senate-House conference eliminated $5 million from an appropriations budge. In fact, 200 children had been sentenced to death and thousands more to maiming and suffering. Similar actions of violence are committed daily by the government and corporations; but in these days of misplaced emphasis, ignorance, and manipulation we do not see the destruction inherent in these actions. Instead, we get fascinated, angry, and misled by the violence of the poor and the powerless. We see the violence committed during political rebellions and the ghettoes (called "riots" in order to dismiss them), but all along we ignored the daily violence committed against the ghetto residents by the inStihltions of the sociely: schools, hospitals, corporations, the government. Check any of these books on deviance, and see how much of this type of violence is even mentioned, much less explored and described. It may be argued that some of this violence is (implicitly) recognized in discussions of "white-collar" crime. This is not the case, however. Of the 16 books under consideration, only three pay some attention to white-collar crime (Cohen, 1966; Clinard, 1968; Dinitz, et al., 1969); and of these, only the last covers the issue at some length. Even in these few discussions, however, the focus remains on the individuals who commit the actions (on their greediness, lack of morality, etc.), not on the economic and political institutions within which they operate. The selection in Dinitz, et al. (1969:99-109), from the President's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice, at least three times (pp. 101, 103, 108) argues that white-collar crime is "pervasive," causes "financial burdens" ("probably far greater than those produced by traditional common law theft offenses"), and is generally harmful. At least in these pages, however, there is no investigation of the social, political, and economic conditions which make the pervasiveness, and lenient treatment, of white-collar crime possible. The bias against examining the structural conditions behind whitecollar crime is further revealed in Clinard's suggestions on how to deal with it (in his chapter on "111e Prevention of Deviant Behavior"). TIle only recommendation in three pages of discussion (704-7) is to teach everyone more "respect" for the law. 11li5 is a purely moralistic device; it pays no attention to the structural aspects of the problem, to the fact that even deeper than white-collar crime is ingrained a whole network of laws, especially tax laws, administrative policies, and institutions which systematically favor a small minority. More generally, discussions on the prevention of "deviance" and crime do not deal with institu1
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34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Bul there is an obvious explanation for this oversight. TIle people committing serious white-collar crimes and executing the policies of violent institutions are respectable and responsible individuals, not "de_ viants"; this is the view of the President's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice. Significantly, the Antitrust Division does not feel that lengthy prison sentences are ordinarily called for [for white-collar crimes]. It "rarely recommends jail sentences greater than 6 months-recommendations of 3D-day imprisonment are most frequent" (Dinitz, et al., 1969:105). Persons who have standing and roots in a community, and are prepared for and engaged in legitimate occupations, can be expected to be particularly susceptible to tile threat of criminal prosecution. Criminal proceedings and the imposition of sanctions have a much sharper impact upon those who have not been hardened by previous contact with the criminal justice system (in Dinitz, et al., 1969:104). At the same time, we are told elsewhere by the Commission that whitecollar crime is pervasive and widespread; "criminal proceedings and the imposition of sanctions" do not appear to deter it much. The executives convicted in the Electrical Equipment case were respectable citizens. "Several were deacons or vestrymen of their churches." TIle rest also held prestigious positions: president of the Chamber of Commerce, bank director, little-league organizer, and so on (Dinitz, et al., 1969:107). Moreover, "generally ... in cases of white-collar crime, neither the corporations as entities nor their responsible officers are invested with deviant characters ... " (Cohen, 1966:30). Once more, there is quiet acquiescence to this state of affairs. There is no attempt to find out why those who steal millions and whose actions violate lives are not lIin_ vested with deviant characters." There is no consideration given to the possibility that, as responsible intellectuals, it is our duty to explore and expose the structural causes for corporate and other serious crimes, which make for much more suffering than does anned robbery. We seem satisfied merely to observe what iS r and leave the causes unexamined. In conclusion, let us look at another fonn of institutional"deviance." The partial publication of the Pentagon papers Gune 1971) made public the conscious lying and manipulation by the government to quiet opposition to the Vietnam war. But lying pervades both government and economy. Deceptions and outright lies abound in advertising (see Henry, 1963). During the 1968 campaign, Presidential candidate Nixon blessed us with an ingenious form of deception. McGinniss (1969:149-50) is recording a discus~ion that took place before Nixon was to appear on
live TV (to show spontaneity) the day before the election and answer, unrehearsed, questions phoned in by the viewing audience:
485
"1 understand Paul Keyes has been sitting up for two days writing questions," Roger Ailes said. "Well, not quite," Jack Rourke said. He seemed a little embarrassed. "What is going to happen?" "Oh ... "
"It's sort of semiforgery, isn't it?" Ailes said. "Keyes has a bunch of questions Nixon wants to answer. He's written them in advance to make sure they're properly worded. When someone calls in with some~ thing similar, they'll use Keyes' question and attribute it to the person who called. Isn't that it?" "More or less," Jack Rourke said. In short, despite the supposedly central position of social stmctflTe in the sociological enterprise, there is general neglect of it in the field of "deviance." Larger questions, especially if they deal with political and economic issues, are either passed over briefly or overlooked completely. The focus on the actions of "nuts, sluts, and preverts" and the related slight of the criminal and destructive actions of the powerful are instances of this avoidance.
III Most of the authors under discussion mention the importance of power
in labelling people "devianl." They state that those who label (the victimizers) are more powerful than those they label (the victims). Writers
of the labelling school make this point explicitly. According to Becker (1963:17), "who can .. .force others to accept their rules and what are the causes of their success? This is, of courser a question of political and economic power." Simmons (1969:131) comments that historically, "those in power have used their pOSitions largely to perpetuate and enhance their own advantages through coercing and manipulating the rest of the populace." And Lofland (1969:19) makes the same observation
in his opening pages: It is in the situation of a very powerful party opposing a very weak
one that the powerful party sponsors the idea that the weak party is breaking the rules of society. The very concepts of "society" and its "rules" are appropriated by powerful parties.and made synonymous with their Interests (and, of course, believed ID by the naIVe, e.g., the undergr,~~uat~ penchant ;,Of the phrases "society says ... ," "society expects ... , SOCIety does ... ).
But this insight is not developed. In none of the 16 books is there an extensive discussion of how power operates in the designation of deviance. Instead of a study of power, of its concrete uses in modem, corporate America, we are offered rather fascinating explorations into the identities and subcultures of "deviants," and misplaced emphasis on
486
the middle-level agents of social controL Only Szasz (1961, 1963, and notably 1970) has shown consistently the role of power in one area of "deviance," "mental illness." Through historical and contemporary studies, he has shovm that those labelled "mentally ill" (crazy, insane, mad, lunatic) and institutionalized have always been the powerless: women, the poor, peasants, the aged, and others. Moreover, he has exposed repeatedly the means used by powerful individuals and institutions in employing the "mental illness" label to discredit, persecute, and eliminate opponents. In short, he has shown the political element in the "mental illness" game. In addition, except for Szasz, none of the authors seems to realize that the stigma of prostitution, abortion, and other "deviant" acts unique to women comes about in large part from the powerlessness of women and their status in society. Moreover, to my knowledge, no one has bothered to ask why there have always been women prostitutes for men to satisfy their sexual desires, but very few men prostitutes for women to patronize. The very word prostitute we associate with women only, not men. Both men and women have been involved in this "immoral" act, but the stigma has been carried by the women alone. All 16 books, some more extensively than others, discuss the ideology, modes of operation, and views of agents of social control, the people who designate what is to be "deviant" and those who handle the people so designated. As Gouldner (1968) has shown, however, these are the lower and middle level officials, not those who make basic policy and decisions. This bias becomes obvious when we look at the specific agents discussed. For example, Simmons (1969:18) tells us that some of "those in charge at every level" are the following: "university administrators, patrolmen, schoolmasters, and similar public employees .... " Do university administrators and teachers nm the schools alone? Are they teaching and enforcing their own unique values? Do teachers alone create the horrible schools in the slums? Are the uniformity, punctuality, and conformity teachers inculcate their own psychological hang-ups, or do they represent the interests of an industrial-teclmological-corporate order? In another sphere, do the police enforce their own laws? Becker (1963:14) has shown consistent interest in agents of social controL However, a close examinalion reveals limitations. He discusses "moral crusaders" like those who passed the laws against marijuana. The moral crusaders, "the prototype of the rule creator," finds that lithe existing rules do not satisfy him because there is some evil which profoundly disturbs him." But the only type of rule creator Becker discusses is the moral crusader, no other. TIle political manipulators who pass 1 ...... "
34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
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The "unconventional sentimentality," the debunking motif Becke (1964:4-5) sees in the "new deviance," is directed toward the police, th prison officials, the mental hospital personnel, the "average" perso: and his prejudices. The basic social, political, and economic StruCturE and those commanding it who guide the labelling and persecution, ar left untouched. We have become so accustomed to debunking these lay.. level agents that we do not even know how to begin to direct our al tention to the ruling institutions and groups (for an attempt at such a analysis, see Liazos, 1970). In a later paper, Becker (1967) poses an apparently insoluable dilem ma. He argues that, in studying agents of social control, we are alway forced to study subordinates. We can never really get to the top, to rhos who "really" run the show, for if we study X's superior Y, we find: above him, and so on endlessly. Everyone has somebody over him, SI there is no one at the top. But this is a clever point without substance. 1 this hierarchy some have more power than others and some are at th top; they may disclaim their position, of course, but itis our job to sho\l otherwise. Some people in this society do have more power than other: parents over children, men over women; some have considerable powe over others: top administrators of institutions, for one; and some have; great deal of power, those Domhoff (1967) and others have shown to h the ruling class. It should be our task to explore and describe this hier archy, its bases of strength, its uses of the "deviant" label to discredi its opponents in order to silence them, and to find ways to eliminab this hierarchy. Discussions of the police reveal the same misplaced emphasis 01 lower and middle level agents of social controL In three of the book (Matza, 1969:182-95; Rubington and Weinberg, 1968:ch. 7; Dinitz, et nl. 1969:40-47), we are presented with the biases and prejudices 01 police men; their modes of operation in confronting delinquents and others; thl pressures on lhem from ValiOliS quarters; ete. In short, the focus is on th role and psychology of the policeman. All these issues about the policeman's situation need to be dis cussed, of course: but there is an even more important issue which thesl authors avoid. We must ask, who passes the laws the police enforce' Whose agents are they? Why do the police exist? Three excellent paper: (Cook, 1968; A. Silver, in Bordua, 1967; T. Hayden, in Rose, 1969) ofle some answers to these questions. They show, through a historical de scription of the origins of police forces, that they have always been llsec to defend the status quo, the interests of the ruling powers. \!\!hen the po lice force was created in England in the early 1800's, it was meant to de fend the propertied classes from the "dangerous classes" and thl 11 .... 1.,,71.",1_
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34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
unrest from the suffering underclass; the professional police were meant to ad as a buffer zone for the capitalist elite. Similarly, in America during the early part of this century, especially in the 1930's, police were used repeatedly to attack striking workers and break their strikes. During the Chicago "police riot" of 1968, the police were not merely acting out their aggressions and frustrations; as Hayden shows, they acted with the consent, direction, and blessing of Mayor Daley and the Democratic party (which party represents the "liberal" wing of the American upper class). It must be stressed that the police, like all agents of social control, are doing someone else's work. Sometimes they enforce laws and prejudices of "society," the much maligned middle class (on sex, marijuana, etc.); but at other times it is not "society" which gives them their directives, but specific interested groups, even though, often, "society" is manipulated to express its approval of such actions. Above all, we must remember that "in a fimdamel1tally Hl1jHst socieh}, even the most impartial, professional, efficient enforcement of the laws by tlte police cannot result in jllstice" (Cook, 1968:2). More generally, in an unjust and exploitative society, no matter how "humane" agents of social control are, their actions necessarily result in repression. Broad generalization is another device used by some of these authors to avoid concrete examination of the uses of power in the creation and labelling of "deviance." Clairborne (1971) has called such generalization "schlock." The following are some of the tactics he thinks are commonly used in writing popular schlock sociology (some sociologists of deviance use similar tactics, as we shall see). The Plausible Passive: "New scientific discoveries are being made every day.... These new ideas are being put to work more quickly ... " [Toffler, in Flltllre Shock, is] thereby rather neatly obscuring the fact that scientists and engineers (mostly paid by industry) are making the discoveries and industrialists (often with the aid of public funds) are putting them to work An alternative to the Plausible Passive is the Elusive Impersonal: 'Buildings in New York literally disappear overnight.' What Toffler is trying to avoid saying is that contractors and real estate speculators destroy buildings overnight (C1airborne, 1971:118).
government incentives (e.g., open or concealed subsidies, low capital gains tax, accelerated depreciation-which Nixon is now seeking to reinstitute) (Clairbome, 1971:118). There are parallels in the sociology of deviance, Clinard (1968:ch. 4) argues that urbanization and the slum are breeding grounds for "deviant behavior." But these conditions are reified, not examined concretely. He says about urbanization and social change: Rapid social and cultural change, disregard for the importance of stability of generations, and lU1tempered loyalties also generally characterize urban life. New ideas are generally welcome, inventions and mechanical gadgets are encouraged, and new styles in such arts as painting, literature, and music are often approved (1968:90). But the slum, urbanization, and change are not reified entities working out their independent wills. For example, competition, capitalism, and the profit motive-all encouraged by a government controlled by the upper classes-have had something to do with the rise of slums. There is a general process of urbanization, but at given points in history it is fed by, and gives profits to, specific groups. The following are a few historical examples: the land enclosure policies and practices of the English ruling classes in the 17th and 18th centuries; the building of cheap housing in the 19th century by the owners of factory towns; and the profits derived from "urban renewal" (which has destroyed neighborhoods, created even more crowded slums, etc.) by the building of highways, luxury apartments, and stores. Another favorite theme of sehlock sociology is that "All Men Are Guilty." That means nothing can be done to change things. There is a variation of this theme in the sociology of deviance when we are told that (a) all of us are deviant in some way, (b) all of us label some others deviant, and (e) "society" labels. Such statements preclude asking concrete questions: does the "deviance" of each of us have equal consequences for others? Does the labelling of each of us stick, and with what results? For example, Simmons (1969:124) says:
Rampant Reification, by which "conceptual abstractions are transformed into causal realities/' also abounds. Tomer
.. .1 strongly suspect that officials now further alienate more culprits than they recruit back into conventional society, and I think they imprison at least as many people in deviance as they rehabilitate. We must remember that, with a sprinkling of exceptions, officials come from, are hired by, and belong to tile dominant majority.
speaks of the "roaring current of change" as "an elemental force" and of "that great, growling engine of change-technology." Which of course completely begs the question of what fuels the engine and whose hand is on the throttle. One does not cross~examine an elemental force, letr alone s~ggest Ulat it may have been engendered by mo~ .• ·., • ,, __ • .1.r. +._-11+ __
Who is that dominant majority? Are they always the numerical majority? Do they control the labelling and correctional process all by themselves? These questions are not raised. Another case of schlock is found in Matza's discussion (lack of it, re-
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
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force in the labelling and handling of "deviance." But, vainly, one keeps looking for some exploration into the workings of "Leviathan," It remains a reified, aloof creature. What is it? Who controls it? How does it label? Why? rvlatza seems content to try to mesmerize us by mentioning it constantly (Leviathan is capitalized throughout); but we are never shown how it operates. It hovers in the background, it punishes, and its presence somehow cowers us into submission. But it remains a reified force whose presence is accepted without close examination. The preceding examples typify much of what is wrong with the sociology of deviance: the lack of specific analysis of the role of power in the labelling process; the generalizations which, even when true, explain little; the fascination with "deviants"; the reluctance to study the "deviance" of the powerful. IV I want to start my concluding comments -with MO disclaimers. (a) I have tried to provide some balance and perspective in the field of "deviance," and in doing so I have argued against the exclusive emphasis on Hllts, sluts, and preverts and their identities and subcultures. I
do not mean, however, that the usually considered forms of "deviance" are unworthy of our attention. Suicide, prostitution, madness, juvenile delinquency, and others are with us; we cannot ignore them. People do suffer when labelled and treated as "deviant" (in this sense, "deviants" are different from confonrusts). Rather, I want to draw attention to phenomena which also belong to the field of "deviant."s (b) It is because the sociology of deviance, especially the labelling approach, contains important, exciting, and revealing insights, because it tries to humanize the "deviant," and because it is popular, that it is easy to overlook some of the basic ideological biases still pervading the field. For this season, I have tried to explore and detail some of these biases. At the same time, however, I do not mean to dismiss the contributions of the field as totally negative and useless. In fact, in my teaching I have been using two of the books discussed here, Simmons (1969) and Rubington and Weinberg (1968). The argument can be sununarized briefly. (1) We should not study only, or predominantly, the popular and dramatic forms of "deviance." Indeed, we should banish the concept of "deviance" and speak of oppression, conflict, persecution, and suffering. By focusing on the dramatic forms, as we do now, we perpetuate most people's beliefs and impressions that such "deviance" is the basic cause of many of our troubles, that these people (criminals, drug addicts, political dissenters, and others) are the real "troublemakers"; and, necessarily, we neglect conr!;hn,.,,,, nt ;,., ........ ",,1;1-<, ................ 1" .... " .... " .... ,., ; ...... J·;,.·.,t-; ....... ..,1 Hi .... 1......... "
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which lie at the bases of our tortured society. (2) Even when we do study the popular fonns of "deviance," we do not avoid blaming the victim for his fate; the continued use of the term "deviant" is one clue to this blame. Nor have we succeeded in normalizing him; the focus on the "deviant" himself, on his identity and subculture, has tended to confirm the popular prejudice that he is different.
NOTES Bend and Vogenfanger (1964) examined social problems textbooks of the early 1960's; they found there was little theory or emphasis on social structure in them. 2. What I say below applies to the "labelling-interactionist" school of deviance of Seeker, Lemert, Erikson, Matza, and others: to a large degree, however, most of my comments also apply to the other schools. 3. The first draft of this paper was completed in July, 1971. The killing of George Jackson at San Quentin on August 21, 1971, which many people see as a political murder, and the Attica prisoner rebellion of early September, 1971, only strengthen the argument about political prisoners. Two things became clear: a) Not only a few "radicals," but many prisoners (if not a majority) see their fate as the outcome of political forces and decisions, and themselves as political prisoners (see Fraser, 1971). Robert Chrisman's argument (in Fraser, 1971) points to such a conclusion clearly: "To maintain that all black offenders are, by their actions, politically correct, is dangerous romanticism. Black antisocial behavior must be seen in and of its own terms and corrected for enhancement of the black community." But there is a political aspect, for black prisoners' condition "derives from the political inequity of black people in America. A black prisoner's crime mayor may not have been a political action against the state, but the state's action against him is always political." I would stress that the same is true of most white prisoners, for they come mostly from the explOited poorer classes and groups. b) The state authorities, the political rulers, by their deeds if not their words, see such prisoners as political men and threats. The death of George Jackson, and the brutal crushing of the Attica rebellion, attest to the authorities' realization, and fear, that here were no mere riots with prisoners letting off steam, but authentic political actions, involving groups and individuals conscious of their social posi~ tion and exploitation. 4. With the exception of E. C. Huges, in Seeker (1964). 5. As Gittlin and Hollander (1970) show, the children of poor whites also suffer from lead poisoning. 6. Investigation of the causes and prevention of institutional violence would probably be biting the hand that feeds the sociologist, for we read that the government and foundations {whose money comes from corporate 1.
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34. Alexander Liazos
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
force in the labelling and handling of IIdeviance." But, vainly, one keeps looking for some exploration into the workings of "Leviathan." It remains a reified, aloof creature. What is it? Who controls it? How does it label? Why? 1vlatza Seems content to try to mesmerize us by mentiOning it constantly (Leviathan is capitalized throughout); but we are never sho'WIl how it operates. It hovers in the background, it punishes, and its presence somehow cowers us into submission. But it remains a reified force whose presence is accepted without close examination. TIle preceding examples typify much of what is wrong with the sociology of deviance: the lack of specific analysis of the role of power in the labelling process; the generalizations which, even when true, explain little; the fascination with "deviants"; the reluctance to study the "deviance" of the powerful.
which lie at the bases of our tortured society. (2) Even when we do study the popular forms of "deviance," we do not avoid blaming the victim for his fate; the continued use of the term" deviant" is one clue to this blame. Nor have we succeeded in normalizing him; the focus on the "deviant" himself, on his identity and subculture, has tended to confirm the popular prejudice that he is different.
NOTES 1.
2.
IV I want to start my concluding comments with two disclaimers. (n) I have tried to provide some balance and perspective in the field of "deviance/' and in doing so I have argued against the exclusive emphasis on Huts, sluts, and preverts and their identities and subcultures. I do not mean, however, that the usually considered forms of "deviance" are unworthy of our attention. Suicide, prostitution, madness, juvenile delinquency, and others are with us; we cannot ignore them. People do suffer when labelled and treated as "deviant" (in this sense, "deviants" are different from conformists). Rather, I want to draw attention to phenomena which also belong to the field of "deviant."B (h) It is because the sociology of deviance, especially the labelling approach, contains important, exciting, and revealing insights, because it tries to humanize the "deviant," and because it is popular, that it is easy to overlook some of the basic ideological biases still pervading the field. For this season, I have tried to explore and detail some of these biases. At the same time, however, I do not mean to dismiss the contributions of the field as totally negative and useless. In fact, in my teaching I have been using two of the books discussed here, Simmons (1969) and Rubington and Weinberg (1968). The argument can be summarized briefly. (1) We should not study only, or predominantly, the popular and dramatic forms of IIdeviance." Indeed, we should banish the concept of "deviance" and speak of oppression, conflict, persecution, and suffering. By focusing on the dramatic forms, as we do now, we perpetuate most people's beliefs and impressions that such "deviance" is the basic cause of many of our troubles, that these people (criminals, drug addicts, political dissenters, and others) are the real "troublemakers"; and, necessarily, we neglect con"':;;Hn ... ,., ,..(.
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3.
4. 5. 6.
Bend and Vogenfanger (1964) examined social problems textbooks of the early 1960's; they found there was litHe theory or emphaSiS on social structure in them. What I say below applies to the "labelling-interactionist" school of deviance of Becker, Lemert, Erikson, Matza, and others: to a large degree, however, most of my comments also apply to the other schools. The first draft of this paper was completed in July, 1971. The killing of George Jackson at San Quentin on August 21, 1971, which many people see as a political murder, and the Attica prisoner rebellion of early September, 1971, only strengthen the argument about political prisoners. Two things became clear: a) Not only a few "radicals," but many prisoners (if not a majority) see their fate as the outcome of political forces and decisions, and themselves as political prisoners (see Fraser, 1971). Robert Chrisman's argument (in Fraser, 1971) points to such a conclusion clearly: "To maintain that all black offenders are, by their actions, politically correct, is dangerous romanticism. Black antisocial behavior must be seen in and of its own terms and corrected for enhancement of the black community." But there is a political aspect, for black prisoners' condition "derives from the political inequity of black people in America. A black prisoner's crime mayor may not have been a political action against the state, but the state's action against him is always political." I would stress that the same is true of most white prisoners, for they come mostly from the exploited poorer classes and groups. b) The state authorities, the political rulers, by their deeds if not their words, see such prisoners as political men and threats. The death of George Jackson, and the brutal crushing of the Attica rebellion, attest to the authorities' realization, and fear, that here were no mere riots with prisoners letting off steam, but authentic political actions, involving groups and individuals conscious of their social position and exploitation. With the exception of E. C. Huges, in Becker (1964). AB Gittlin and Hollander (1970) show, the children of poor whites also suffer from lead poiSOning. Investigation of the causes and prevention of institutional violence would probably be biting the hand that feeds the sociologist, for we read that the government and foundations (whose money comes from corporate
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492
7. 8.
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
prevention. "This has meant particularly thallhe application of sociological theory to research has increased markedly in such areas as delinquency, crime, mental disorder, alcoholism, drug addiction, and discrimination" (Clinard, 1968:742). That's where the action is, not on white-collar crime, nor on the covert institutional violence of the government and economy. See Rude (1966) on the role of mobs of poor workers and peasants in 18th and 19th cenhlry England and France. The question of "what deviance is to the deviant" (Cordon Fellman, private communication), not what the labelling, anomie, and other schools, or the present radical viewpoint say abollt such a person, is not dealt with here. 1 avoid this issue not because I think it unimportant, rather because I want to concentrate on the paliticat moral; and social issues raised by the biases of those presently writing about the "deviant."
REFERENCES Becker, Howard S. *1963 Outsiders. New York: Free Press. *1964 (ed.) The Other Side. New York: Free Press. 1967 "Whose side are we on?" Social Problems 14:239-247 (reprinted in Douglas, 1970a, 99-111; references to t?is reprint). Bell, Robert R. *1971 Social Deviance: A Substantive Analysis. Homewood, Illinois: Dorsey. Bend, Emil and Marlin Vogenfanger 1964 "A new look at Mills' critique," in Mass Society in Crisis, Bemard Rosenberg, Israel Gerver, F. William Howton (eds.). New York: Macmillan, 1964, 111-122. Bordua, David (ed.) 1967 The Police. New York: Wiley. Carmichael, Stokeley and Charles V. Hamilton 1967 Black Power. New York: Random House. Clairborne, Robert 1971 "Future schlock." The Nation, Jan. 25, 117-120. Cleaver, Eldridge 1968 Soul on Ice. New York: McGraw-Hill. Clinard, Marshall B. *1968 Sociology of Deviant Behavior. (3rd ed.) New York: Halt, Rinehart, and Wins ton.
34. Alexander Liazos
493
Cahen, Albert K. *1966 Deviance and Control. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall. Cook, Robert M. 1968 "The police." The Bulletin of the American Independent Movement (New Haven, Conn.), 3:6, 1-6. Dinitz, Simon, Russell R. Dynes, and Alfred C. Clarke (eds,) *1969 Deviance. New York: Oxford University Press. Domhoff, William G. 1967 Who Rules America? Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall. Douglas, Jack D. *1970.1 (ed.) Observations of Deviance. New York: Random House. *1960b(ed.) Deviance and Respectability: The Social Construction of Moral Meanings. New York: Basic Books. Fraser, C. Gerald 1971 "Black prisoners finding new view of themselves as political prisoners." New York TImes, Sept. 16. Gittlin, Todd and Nand Hollander 1970 Up town: Poor Whites in Chicago. New York: Harper and Row. Gouldner, Alvin W. 1968 "The sociologist as partisan: Sociology and the welfare state." American Sociologist 3:2,103-116. Henry, Jules 1963 Culture Against Man. New York: Random House. Jackson, George 1970 Soledad Brother. New York: Bantam Books.
Lefton, Mark, J. K. Skipper, and C. H. McCaghy (eds.) ~1968 Approaches to Deviance. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts. Lemert, Edwin M. *1967 Human Deviance, Social Problems, and Social Control. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall. Liazos, Alexander 1970 Processing for Unfitness: socialization of "emotionally disturbed" lower-dass boys into the mass society. Ph.D. Dissertation, Brandeis University.
Lofland, John *1969 Deviance and Identity. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-hall. McCaghy, Charles H., j. K. Skipper, and M. Letton (eds.) *1968 In Their Own Behalf: Voices from the Margin. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts. McGinniss, Joe lQ';Q
The 1::"'11.;,.., ..... ,..;
~h",
Prm'.;.4 ....... ~ 10t::Q
"",Tn ... V~~l .. 'T''''':..l __ 1..
494
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
MalcolrnX 1965 The Autobiography of Malcolm X. New York: Grove. Matza, David *1969 Becoming Deviant. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall. Mills, C. Wright 1943 "The professional ideology of social pathologists." American Journal
of Sociology 49:165-180. Newfield, Jack 1971 "Let them Eat lead." New York Tunes, June 16, p. 45. Qltinn, Olive W. 1954 "!he transmission of racial attitudes among white southerners." So~ aal Forces 33:1, 41....47 (reprinted in E. Schuler, et al., eds., Readings in Sociology, 2nd ed., New York: Crowell, 1960, 140-150) Rose, Thomas (ed.) 1969 Violence in America. New York: Random House. Rubington, Earl and M. S. Weinberg (eds.) *1968 Deviance: The interactionist Perspective. New York: Macmillian. Rude, George 1966 The Crowd in History. New York: Wiley.
Rushing, William A. (ed.) *1969 Deviant Behavior and Social Processes. Chicago: Rand McNally, Simmons, J. 1. *1969 Deviants, Berkeley, Ca!.: Glendessary. Szasz, Thomas S. 1961 The Myth of Mentalll1ness. New York: Harper and Row. 1963 Law, Liberty, and Psychiatry. New York: Macmillian. 1970 The Manufacture of Madness. New York: Harper and Row.
Thompson, Hunter S. 1966 Hell's Angels. New York: Ballantine.
35. Steven Spitzer
495
35 Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance STEVEN SPITZER Within the last decade American sociologists have become increasingly reflective in the~ approach to deviance and social problems. They have come to recognize that interpretations of deviance are often ideological in their assumptions and implications, and that sociolOgists are
frequently guilty of II providing the facts which make oppression more efficient and the theory which makes it legitimate to a larger constituency" (Becker and Horowitz, 1972: 48). To combat this tendency students of deviance have invested more and more energy in the search for a critical theory. This search has focused on three major problems: (1) the definition of deviance, (2) the etiology of deviance, and (3) the etiology of control.
TRADITIONAL THEORIES AND THEIR PROBLEMS Traditional theories approached the explanation of deviance with little equivocation about the phenomenon to be explained. Prior to the 1960s the subject matter of deviance theory was taken for granted and few were disturbed by its preoccupation with "dramatic and predatory" forms of social behavior (Uazos, 1972). Only in recent years have sociologists started to question the consequences of singling out "nuts," "sluts," "perverts," "lames," "crooks," "junkies," and "juicers" for special attention. Instead of adopting conventional wisdom about who and wlmt is deviant, investigators have gradually made the definitional problem central to the sociological enterprise. They have begun to appreciate the consequences of studying the powerless (rather than the powerfull-both in terms of the relationship between k1lowledge of and control over a group, and the support for the "hierarchy of credibility" (Becker, 1967) that such a focus provides. Sociologists have discovered the significance of the definitional process in their own, as well as society's response to deviance, and this discovery has raised doubts about the direction and purpose of the field. Reprinted from Steven Spitzer, "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance." Socinl Problems, vol. 22, no. 50une 1975), pp. 638--651. Copyright © 1975 by the Society for the Study of Social Problems. By permission of the publisher. Revised version of a paper presented at the American Sociological Association meetings, August, 1975. I would like to thank Cedle Sue eoren and Andrew T. Scull for their criticisms and suggestions.
496
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Even when the definitional issue can be resolved critics are faced with a second and equally troublesome problem. Traditional theories of deviance are essentially HOll-structuml and a/tistorical in their mode of analysis. By restricting investigation to factors which are manipulable within existing structural arrangements these theories embrace a "correctional perspective" (Matza, 1969) and divert attention from the impact of the political economy as a whole. From this point of view deviance is in but not of our contemporary social order. Theories that locate the source of deviance in factors as diverse as personality structure, family systems, cultural transmission, social disorganization and differential opportunity share a common flaw-they attempt to understand deviance apart from historically specific forms of political and economic organization. Because traditional theories proceed without any sense of historical development, deviance is normally viewed as an episodic and transitory phenomenon rather than an outgrowth of long-term structural change. Sensitive sociologists have come to realize that critical theory must establish, rather than obscure, the relationship between deviance, social structure and social change. A final problem in the search for a critical theory of deviance is the absence of a coherent theory of control. More than ever before critics have come to argue that deviance cannot be understood apart from the dynamics of control. Earlier theories devoted scant attention to the control process precisely because control was interpreted as a natural response to behavior generally assumed to be problematic. Since theories of deviance viewed control as a desideratum, no theory of control was required. But as sociologists began to question conventional images of deviance they revised their impressions of social control. Rather than assuming that societal reaction was necessarily defensive and benign, skeptics announced that controls could actually cause deviance. The problem was no longer simply to explain the independent sources of deviance and control, but to understand the reciprocal relationship between the two. In elevating control to the position of an independent variable a more critical orientation has evolved. Yet this orientation has created a number of problems of its own. If deviance is simply a status, representing the outcome of a series of control procedures, should our theory of deviance be reduced to a theory of control? In what sense, if any, is deviance an achieved rather than an ascribed status? How do we account for the historical and structural sources of deviance apart from those shaping the development of formal controls?
35. Steven Spitzer
497
TOWARD A THEORY OF DEVIANCE PRODUCTION A critical theory must be able to account for both deviallce and deviants. It must be sensitive to the process through which deviance is subjec-
tively constructed a.nd deviants are objectively handled, as well as the structural bases of the behavior and characteristics which come to official attention. It should neither beg the explanation of deviant behavior and characteristics by depicting the deviant as a helpless victim of oppression, nor fail to realize that his identification as deviant, the dimensions of his threat, and the priorities of the control system are part of a broader social conflict. While aclmowledging the fact that deviance is a status imputed to groups who share certain structural characteristics (e.g., powerlessness) we must not forget that these groups are defined by more than these characteristics alone. 1 We must not only ask why specific members of the underclass are selected for official processing, but also why they behave as they do. Deviant statuses, no matter how coercively applied, are in some sense achieved and we must understand this achievement in the context of political-economic conflict. We need to understand why capitalism produces both patterns of activity and types of people that are defined and managed as deviant. In order to construct a general theory of deviance and control it is useful to conceive of a process of deviance production which can be understood in relationship to the development of class society. Deviance prodllctio11 involves all aspects DJ tlIe process through which populatiol1s are structllrally generated, as well as shaped, clzanneled into, and ma11ipulated within social categories defined as deviant. This process includes the development of and changes in: (1) deviant definitions, (2) problem populations, and (3) control systems. Most fundamentally, deviance production involves the development of and changes in deviant categories and images. A critical theory must examine where these images and definitions come from, what they reflect about the structure of and priorities in specific class societies, and how they are related to class conflict. If we are to explain, for example, how mental retardation becomes deviance and the feeble-minded deviant we need to examine the stnlctural characteristics, economic and political dimensions of the society in which these definitions and images emerged. In the case of American society we must understand how certain correlates of capitalist development (proletarianization and nuclearization of the family) weakened traditional methods of assimilating these groups, how others (the emergence of scientific and meritocratic ideologies) sanctioned intellectual stratification and differential han-
498
Politics and Class in the Shtdy of Deviance
dting, and how still others (the attraction of unskilled Iabor and population concentrations) heightened concern over the "threat" that these groups were assumed to represent. In other words, the fann and content of deviance definition must be assessed in terms of its relationship to both structural and ideological change. A second aspect of deviance production is the development of and changes in problem behaviors and problem populations. If we assume that class societies are based on fundamental conflicts between groups, and that harmony is achieved through the dominance of a specific class, it makes sense to argue that deviants are culled from groups who create specific problems for those who rule. Although these groups may victimize or burden those outside of the dominant class, their problematic quality ultimately resides in their challenge to the basis and form of class rule. Because problem populations are not always "handled:' they provide candidates for, but are in no sense equivalent to, official deviants. A sophisticated critical theory must investigate where these groups come from, why their behaviors and characteristics are problematic, and how they are transformed in a developing political economy. We must consider, for instance, why Chinese laborers in 19th century California and Chicanos in the Southwest during the 1930s became the object of official concern, and why drug laws evolved to address the "problems" that these groups came to represent (Helmer and Vietorisz, 1973; Musto, 1973). The changing character of problem populations is related to deviance production in much the same way that variations in material resources sources affect manufacturing. Changes in the quantity and quality of raw materials influence the scope and priorities of production, but the characteristics of the final product depend as much on the methods of production as the source material. 111ese methods comprise the third element in deviance production-the development and operation of the control system. The theory must explain why a system of contIol emerges under specific conditions and account for its size, focus and working assumptions. The effectiveness of the system in confronting problem populations and its internal structure must be understood in order to interpret changes in the form and content of controL Thus, in studying the production of the "mentally ill" we must not only consider why deviance has been "therapeutized," but also how this development reflects the subtleties of class control. Under capitalism, for example, fonnal control of the mad and the birth of the asylum may be examined as a response to the growing demands for order, responsibility and restraint (cf. Foucault, 1965).
35. Steven Spitzer
499
THE PRODUCTION OF DEVIANCE IN CAPITALIST SOCIETY The concept of deviance production offers a starting point for the analysis of both deviance and control. But for such a construct to ser:v e as ~ critical tool it must be grounded in an historical and structural mvesb.gation of society. For Marx, th.e cruc~al u:ut of ~alysis is the mode of production that dominates a gIven hlstoncalperlOd. If we ~e to have a Marxian theory of deviance, therefore, deVIance ~roductlO~ must b.e understood in relationship to specific forms of SOClOeconOffilC orgaruzation. In our society, productive activity is organized capitalistically and it is ultimately defined by "the process that transf~rm~ on the ?ne hand the social means of subsistence and of production mto capItal, on th~ other hand the immediate producers into wage labourers" (Marx, 1967: 714). . . There are two features of the capitalist mode of production Important for purposes of this discussion. First, as a. mode .of production it forms the foundation or infrastructure of our SOCIety. This means that the starting point of our analysis must be an unde~standing of the econ~m ic organization of capitalist societies and the lillpact of that org~z~ tion on all aspects of social life. But the capitalist mod.e of produ~ti~n IS an important starting point in another sense. It contams contra~c~ons which reflect the internal tendencies of capitalism. These contradIctions are important because they explain the changin~ chara~t~r of the .capitalist system and the nature of its impact o~ SOCIal, pO~lhcal and ~tel lectual activity. The formulation of a MarxIst perspe~tive on devlan.ce requires tl1e interpretalion of the process through wiuch the contr~dlc lions of capitalism are expressed. In particular: t~e theory must illustrate the relationship betvveen specific contradIctIons, the problems of . capitalist development and the production of a deviant class. The superstructure of society emerges from and reflects the on~o~g development of economic forces (the infrastructure). In class SoCIetIes this superstructure preserves the hegemony of the ruling c1~ss t~ou~h a system of class controls. These controls, which are institutIonalIzed m the family, church, private associations, media, schools and the. st~te, provide a mechanism for coping with the contradictions and achlevmg the aim of capitalist development. Among the most important functions served by the superstructure in capitalist societies is the regulation and management of problem populations. Because deviance processing is only onc of the methods ~vatl able for social conlTol, these groups supply raw material for deViance
500
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
production, but are by no means synonymous with deviant populations. Problem populations tend to share a number of social characteristics, but most important among these is the fact that their behavior,
personal qualities and/ or position threaten the social relations of production in capitalist societies. In other words, populations become generally eligible for management as deviant when they disturb, hinder ar call into question any of the following: 1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Capitalist modes of appropriating the product of human labar (e.g. when the poor "steal" from the rich). The social conditions under which capitalist production takes place (e.g. those who refuse or are unable to perform wage labor). Patterns of distribution and consumption in capitalist society (e.g. those who use drugs for escape and transcendence rather than sociability and adjustment), The process of socialization for productive and non-productive roles (e.g. youth who refuse to be schooled or those who
deny the validity of "family life'').' The ideology which supports the functioning of capitalist society (e.g. proponents of alternative forms of social organization).
Although problem populations are defined in terms of the threat and costs that they present to the social relations of production in capitalist societies, these populations are far from isomorphic with a revolutionary class. It is certainly true that some members .of the problem populatiDn, may under specific circumstances possess revolutionary potential. But this potential can only be realized if the problematic group is located in a position of functional indispensability within the capitalist system. Historically, capitalist societies have been quite successful in transforming those who are problematic and indispensabl,e (the protorevolutionary class) into groups who are either problematic and dispensable (candidates for deviance processing), or indispensable but not
problematic (supporters of the capitalist order). On the other hand, simply because a group is manageable does not mean that it ceases to be a
problem for the capitalist class. Even though dispensable problem populations cannot .overturn the capitalist system, they can represent a significant impediment to its maintenance and growth. It is in this sense that they becDme eligible for management as deviants. Problem populations are created in two 'ways-either directly
through the expression of fundamental contradictions in the capitalist mode of production or indirectly through disturbances in the system of
35. Steven Spitzer
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class rule. An example of the first process is found in Marx's analysis of the "relative surplus-population." Writing on the "General Law of Capitalist Accumulation" Marx exlains how increased social redundance is inherent in the development ~f the capitalist mode of production: With the extension of the scale of production, and the mass of the labourers set in motion, with the greater breadth and fullness of all sources of wealth there is also an extension of the scale on which greater attraction' of laboure.rs by capi~al is accompanied by their greater repulsion ... The labounng population ~erefore produces, ?l0r:tg with the accumulation of capital produced ?y It, the ~eans by which.ltself is made relatively superfluous, ... and It does this to an always mcrea~~g extent (Marx, 1967: 631). In its most limi:ted sense the production of a relative surplus-population involves the creation .of a class which is economically redundant. But insofar, as the conditions of economic existence determine social existence, this process helps explain the emergence of groups who become both threatening and vulnerable at the same time. The marginal status of these populations reduces their stake in the maintenance o~ the sy~tem while their powerlessness and dispensability renders them mcreasmgly susceptible to the mechanisms of official co~trol. . The paradox surrounding the productIOn of the relativ~ surpluspopulation is that this population is b~th useful and me~acmg to the accumulation of capital. Marx descnbes how the relatIve surpl~s population "forms a disposable industrial a.rmy: that belong~, tD capItal quite as absolutely as if the latter had bred It at Its O'W11 cost,. and how this army, "creates, for the changing needs of the self-expanslOn of capital, a mass of human material always ready for exploitation" (Marx, 1967: 632). On the other hand, it is apparent that an excessive increase in what Marx called the "lowest sediment" of the relative surplus-population, might seriously impair the growth of capital. The harmony c~eated b~ a large and economically stagnant surplus-popUlation coul~ JeopardlZe the preconditions for accumulation by undermining the. Ide~logy of equ~ity so essential to the legitimation .of production re~ati~ns ill bourgeois democracies, diverting revenues away from capItal I.nvestme~t toward control and support operations, and providing a baSIS for polItical organization of the dispossessed.3 To the extent that the relative s~r plus-population confronts the capitalist class as a tru:ea.t to. the 50ctal relations of production it reflects an important contradIchon ill modern capitalist societies: a surplus-population is a nec~ss~ry pr~duct ~f and condition for the accumulation of wealth on a capItalist baSIS, but It also
502
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
creates a form of social expense which must be neutralized or controlled if production relations and conditions for increased accumulation are to remain unimpaired. Problem populations are also generated through contradictions which develop in the system of class rule. The institutions which make up the superstructure of capitalist society originate and are maintained to guarantee the interests of the capitalist class. Yet these institutions ~ec~ssarily reproduce, rather than resolve, the contradictions of the capItalist order. In a dialectical fashion, arrangements which arise in order to buttress capitalism are transformed into their opposite-structures of the cultivation of internal threats. An instructive example of this process is found in the emergence and transformation of educational institutions in the United States. The introduction of mass education in the United States can be traced to the developing needs of corporate capitalism (cf. Karier, 1973; Cohen and Lazerson, 1972; Bowles and Gintis, 1972; Spring, 1972). Compul~o~ e.ducation provided a means of training, testing and sorting, and assimilating wage-Iaborers, as well as Vvithholding certain populations from the labor market. The system was also intended to preserve the ~al~es of. bourgeois society and operate as an "inexpensive form of police (Spnng, 1973: 31). However, as Gintis (1973) and Bowles (1973) have sug?"ested, the ~ternal contradictions of schooling can lead to effects opposIte of those mtended. For the poor, early schooling can make explicIt the oppressiveness and alienating character of capitalist institutions while higher education can instill critical abilities which lead students t~ "bite the hand that feeds them." In both cases educational institutions create troublesome populations (Le. drop outs and student radicals) and contribute to the very problems they were designed to solve. After understanding how and why specific groups become generally ~~thersome in capitalist society. it is necessary to investigate the ~OndItions ~der which these groups are transformed into proper obJects for sOCIal controL In other words, we must ask what distinguishes the generally problematic from the specifically deviant. The rate at which problem populations are converted into deviants will reflect the relationship between these populations and the control system. This rate is likely to be influenced by the:
1. Extensiveness and Intensity of State Controls. Deviance processing (as opposed to other control measures) is more likely to occur when problem management is monopolized by the state. As state controls are applied more generally the proportion of official deviants will increase. 2. Size mid Level of Tln'eal Presented by the Problem Papulatiall. TI,e lare-pr ilnn mnrp ~hrp:1h:'njn" +ho ...........hl"' ...... ..-. .... ~ .. 1~k:~_ .. I....~ ____ '-_._ 11. _
503
likelihood that this population will have to be controlled through deviance processing rather than other n:~thods: As the threat ~reated b.r these populations exceeds the capaCItIes of mf~rmal restramts, th~lr management requires a broadening of the reaction s~s~e~ and an mcreasing centralization and coordination of contr~l actIVIties. . 3. Level of Organizatioll of the Problem PopulatIOn. When and if problem populations are able to orga~e and de~elop ~ted amounts. of political power, deviance proc€ssu:g b~comes m~reasmgly 1:5s effec~ve as a tool for social control. The attrIbution of devIant status IS most like. ly to occur when a group is relatively impotent. and atomize~. _ 4. Effectiveness of Control StfllctllreS Organ~z~d thr~lIgh .CIV!l Soclet~. The greater the effectiveness of the organs of cIvil socIety (l.e. the farrllly, church, media, schools, sports) in solving the ~roblems of class.c~n tro!, the less the likelihood that deviance processmg (a more explICItly political process) will be employed. . ' . 5. Availabilihj a11d Effectiveness of Alte1'11atlVe Types of OffiClO1 Processil1g. In some cases the state will be abl~ effl~ctively t~ incorporate certain segments of the problem populatIOn mto sP:cI.ally created "prosocial" roles. In the modern era, for example, conscnpti.on and public works projects (Piven and Cloward, 1971) helped neutralize the problems posed by troublesome populations without creating new or expanding old deviant categories. 6. Availability and Effectiveness of Parallel CO/ttrol Stnlefl/res. In many instances the state can transfer its costs of deviance production by supporting or at least tolerating the activities of independent control ne~ works which operate in its interests. For example, when the ~t~te IS denied or is reluctant to assert a monopoly over the use of force It IS frequently willing to encourage vigilante organizations and privat: police in the suppression of problem populations. Simi~ar1y, ~e sta~e IS often benefited by the policies and practices of orgamzed cnme, IOsofar. as these activities help pacify, contain and enforce order among potentIally disruptive groups (Schelling, 1967). . 7. Utility of Problem Poplllatio/ls. While problem populatIOns are defined in terms of their threat and costs to capitalist relations of production, they are not threatening in every respect. They can be supportive economically (as part of a surplus labor p~ol or du.al labor market), politically (as evidence of the need for state InterventIOn) and ideologically (as scapegoats for rising discontent). In other w~rds,. ~der certain conditions capitalist societies derive benefits from mamtammg a number of visible and uncontrolled "troublemakers" in their midst Such popuIations are distinguished by the fact that while th~y rem~in generally bothersome, the costs that they inflict are most ImmedIately ab,
,,..
_1. _ •• _ _ (
LI- ___ ~I-l~ _ _ ~_"I~I.; .........
Dn];,..;.:>" punl\1p
504
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
not so much to eliminate or actively suppress these groups, but to deflect their threat away from targets which are sacred to the capitalist class. Victimization is permitted and even encouraged, as long as the victims are members of an expendable class.
35. Steven Spitzer
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and their implications for the future may be best understood by examining some of the tendencies of modern capitalist systems.
MONOPOLY CAPITAL AND DEVIANCE PRODUCTION Two more or less discrete groupings are established through the operations of official control. These groups are a product of different operating assumptions and administrative orientations toward the deviant population. On the other hand, there is social junk which, from the point of view of the dominant class, is a costly yet relatively harmless burden to society. The discreditability of social junk resides in the failure, inability or refusal of this group to participate in the roles supportive of capitalist society. Social junk is most likely to come to official attention when informal resources have been exhausted or when the magnitude of the problem becomes significant enough to create a basis for "public concern." Since the threat presented by social junk is passive, growing out of its inability to compete and its withdrawal from the prevailing soCIal order, controls are usually designed to regulate and contain rather than eliminate and suppress the problem. Clear-cut examples of social junk in modem capitalist societies might include the officially administered aged, handicapped, mentally ill and mentally retarded. In contrast to social junk, there is a category that can be roughly described as social dynamite. The essential quality of deviance managed ~s social dynamite is its potential actively to call into question established relationships, especially relations of production and domination. Generally, therefore, social dynamite tends to be more youthful, alienated and politically volatile than social junk. 'The control of social dy~amite is usually premised on an assumption that the problem is acute In nature, requiring a rapid and focused expenditure of control resources. This is in contrast to the handling of social junk frequently based on a belief that the problem is chronic and best controlled through broad reactive, rather than intensive and selective measures. Correspondingly, social dynamite is normally processed through the ~egal system with its capacity for active intervention, while social junk IS frequently (but not always)4 administered by the agencies and agents of the therapeutic and welfare state. Many varieties of deviant populations are alternatively or simultaneously dealt with as either social junk and/or social dynamite. The welfare poor, homosexuals, alcoholics and "problem children" are among the categories reflecting the equivocal nature of the control pr?c~s.s and its .dependence on the political, economic and ideological pnonties of deVIance production, The changing nature of these priorities
Marx viewed capitalism as a system constantly transforming itself. He explained these changes in terms of certain tendencies. and contradictions immanent within the capitalist mode of production. One of the most important processes identified by Marx was the t~nd~ncy for .the organic composition of capital to rise. S~ply stated, caplt~~ r:qurres increased productivity to survive, and mcreased prodUCtiVIty IS only made possible by raising the ratio of machines (dead labor) to men (living labar). This tendency is self-reinforcing since, "the further machine production advances, the higher becomes the orgaruc comp~s,~tlOn of capital needed for an entrepreneur to secure the ~verage profIt (Mar:del, 1968: 163). This phenomenon helps us explam the course of capItalist development over the last century and the rise of monopoly capital (Baran and Sweezy, 1966). For the purposes of this analysis there are at least two m:portant consequences of this process. First, the growth of constant capItal (~a chines and raw material) in the production process leads to an expansIOn in the overall size of the relative surplus-population. The reasons for this are obvious. The increasingly technological character of production removes more and more laborers from productive activity for longer periods of time. Thus, modern capitalist socie~es have ~een require~ progreSSively to reduce the number of productive years In a worker 5 life, defining both young and old as economically superfluous. Especiallyaffected are the unskilled who become more and more expendable as capital expands. In addition to affecting the general size of the relative surplus-population, the rise of the organiC composition of capital leads to an increase in the relative stagnancy of that population. In Marx's original analysis he distinguished betvveen forms of superfluous population that were floating and stagnant. The floating population consists of workers who are "sometimes repelled, sometimes attracted again in greater masses, the number of those employed increasing on the whole, although in a constantly decreasing proportion to the scale of production" (1967: 641). From the point of view of capitalIst accumulatIOn the floating population offers the greatest economic flexibility and the fewest problems of social control because they are most effectively tied to ~ap ital by the "nalurallaws of production." Unfortunately (for the capItal-
506
35. Steven Spitzer
Politics and ClaSS in the Study of Devhmce
ists ~t least), these ?"roups come to comprise a smaller and smaller proportIOn of ~le rel~~ve s~lus-population. The increasing specialization of producllVe activIty raISes the cost of reproducing laboT and heightens the demand for highly skilled and "internally controlled" fonms of wage labar (Gorz, 1970). The process through which unskilled workers are alt:matively absorb~d and expelled from the labor force is thereby impalIe~, and the relative surplus-population comes to be made up of increasmg numbers of persons who are more or less permanently redundant. The boundaries betw-een the "useful" and the "useless are more clearly delineated, while standards for social disqualification are more liberally defined. With the growth of monopoly capital, therefore, the relative Surplus-population begins to take on the character of a population which is ~ore and more absolute. At the same time, the market becomes a less re~Iable means of disciplining these populations and the "invisible hand" IS ~ore frequently replaced by the "visible fist." The implications for deVIance production a:e twofold: (1) problem populations become grad~~ly more problematIc-both in terms of their size and their insensitiVI~ to ,economic controls, and (2) the resources of the state need to be app~ed ID greater proportion to protect capitalist relations of production and Insure the accwnulation of capital. fl
STATE CAPITALISM AND NEW FORMS OF CONTROL The major problems faced by monopoly capitalism are surplus population and surplus production. Attempts to solve these problems have led to the creation o~ the welfare/warfare state (Baran and Sweezy, 1966; Marcuse, 1964; 0 Connor, 1973; Gross, 1970). The warfare state attacks the proble~ of overconsumption by providing "wasteful" consumption and protection for the expansion of foreign markets. The welfare state helps a?sorb and. deflect social expenses engendered by a redundant do:nestic. p~pulation. Accordingly, the economic development of capitalIst SOCIeties has come to depend increasingly on the support of the state. The emer?~nce of state capitalism ru,d the growing interpenetratIO~ of the political ~d ~conomic spheres have had a number of irnpli~ations for the orgaruzation and adminislTation of class rule. The most lITlportant effect of these trends is that control functions are increasingly t:ansferred from the orga~s of civil society to the organs of political S~Cl:ty (the state).As the mamtenance of social hannony becomes more dIffIcult and the contra.dictions of civil society intensify, the state is forced to take a more dIrect ;:'in'; py~pn,";u", ...,,1"'; .... ~l..~ ~ ______ . . .
507
problem populations. This is especially true to the extent that the primary socializing institutions in capltalist sooehes (e.g. the fanuly and the church) can nO longer be counted on to produce obedient and "productive" citizens. Growing state intervention, especially intervention in the process of socializatioTI, is likely to produce an emphasis on general-preventive (integrative), rather than selective-reactive (segregative) controls. Instead of waiting for troublemakers to surface and managing them through segregative techniques, the state is likely to focus more ~d ~o:e on g.enerally applied incentives and assimilative controls. This shift lS.consls.tent with the growth of state capitalism because, on the one hand, It provides mechanisms and policies to nip disruptive influences "in the bud," and, on the other, it paves the way toward a more rational exploitation of human capital. Regarding the latter point, it is clear that effective social engineering depends more on socia~ u;vestment and anti:ipatory planning than coercive control, and SOCIeties ~ay more profitably manage populations by viewing them as human capItal,.than as hu~~ was~e. ~ investment orientation has long been popular ill state socialist SOCieties (Rimlinger, 1961, 1966), and its value, not surprisingly, has been inS creasingly acknowledged by many capitalist states . In addition to the advantages of integrative controls, segregatIve measures are likely to fall into disfavor for a more immediate reasonthey are relatively costly to formulate and apply. Because of its fiscal problems the state must search for means of :conomizing :ontrol o~er ations without jeopardizing capitalist expansIOn. Segregattve handling, especially institutionalization, has been useful in manipulating and providing a receptacle for social junk and socia~ dyn~mite. ~one~lelessl the per capita cost of this type of management 15 typlCally qUlte hlgh. Because of its continuing reliance on segregative controls the state is faced with a growing crisis-the overproduction of deviance. TIle magnitude of the problem and the inherent weaknesses of available approaches tend to limit the alternatives, but among those which are likely to be favored in the future are: 1. NonllnlizntioJl. Perhaps the most expedient response to the overproduction of deviance is the normalization of populat~ons traditio~al ly managed as deviant. Normalization occurs when devlance process~g is reduced in scope without supplying specific alternatives, and certam segments of the problem population are "swept under the r~g.1I To be successful this strategy requires the creation of invisible deVIants who can be easily absorbed into society and disappear from view. . A current example of this approach is found in the decarceratlOn _. _¥. __ . __ ~ •.• 1.:_1.. 1.._~ _...,.-1 •• ..., ..... ..l ~I ... ..., ..." ...... hnr,-,f: inn1"~"'c in nricnn<; n~np.
508
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
1972) and mental hospitals (NIMH, 1970) over the last fifteen years. By curtailing commitments and increasing turn-over rates the state is able to mnit the scale and increase the efficiency of institutionalization. If, however, direct release is likely to focus too much attention on the shortcomings of the state a number of intermediate solutions can be adopted. These include subsidies for private control arrangements (e.g. foster homes, old age homes) and decentralized control facilities (e.g. community treabnent centers, halfway houses). In both cases, the fiscal burden of the state is reduced while the dangers of complete normalization are avoided. 2. Conversion. To a certain extent the expenses generated by problem and deviant populations can be offset by encouraging their direct participation in the process of control. Potential troublemakers can be recruited as policemen, social workers and attendants, while confirmed deviants can be "rehabilitated" by becoming counselors, psychiatric aides and parole officers. In other words, if a large number of the controlled can be converted into a first line of defense, threats to the system of class rule can be transformed into resources for its support. 6 3. C01ltainment. One means of responding to threatening populations without individualized manipulation is through a policy of containment or compartmentalization. This policy involves the geographic segregation of large populations and the use of formal and informal sanctions to circumscribe the challenges that they present. Instead of classifying and handling problem populations in terms of the specific expenses that they create, these groups are loosely administered as a homogeneous class who can be ignored or managed passively as long as they remain in their place. ~trateg.ies of containment have always flourished where social seg~g~tion :XI~ts, but they have become especially favored in modern capItalist SOCIeties. One reason for this is their compatibility -with patterns of residential segregation, ghettoization, and internal colonialism (Blauner, 1969). 4.. Support of CTl11lrnal Elltelprzse. Ano!:her way tile overproduction of devIance may be eased is by granting greater power and influence to organized crime. Although predatory CrIminal enterpnse is asswned to stand in opposition to the goals of tile state and the capitalist class, it performs valuable and unique functions in the service of class rule (McIntosh, 1973). By creating a parallel opportunity structure, organized crime provides a means of support for groups who might othenvise become a burden on the state. The activities of organized crime are also import~nt in the pacification of problem populations. Organized crime proVIdes goods and services which ease the hardships and deflect the energies of the underclass. In tilis rnlp HlP J'rrimp in.411<'h'"H" ... " .. (~_~ __
35. Steven Spilzer
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cooling-out function and offers a control resource which might otherwise not exist. Moreover, insofar as criminal enterprise attempts to reduce uncertainty and risk in its operations, it aids the state in the maintenance of public order. This is particularly true to the extent !:hat the rationalization of criminal activity reduces the collateral costs (i.e. violence) associated with predatory crime (Schelling, 1967).
CONCLUSION A Marxian theory of deviance and control must overcome the weaknesses of both conventional interpretations and narrow critical models. It must offer a means of studying deviance which fully exploits the critical potential of Marxist scholarship. More than "demystifying" The analysis of deviance, such a theory must suggest directions and offer insights which can be utilized in the direct construction of critical theory. Although the discussion has been informed by concepts and evidence drawn from a range of Marxist studies, it has been more of a sensitizing essay than a substantive analysis. The further development of the theory must await the accumulation of evidence to refine our understanding of the relationships and tendencies explored. When this evidence is developed the contributions of Marxist thought can be more meaningfully applied to an understanding of deviance, class conflict and social con troL
NOTES For example, Turk (1969) defines deviance primarily in terms of the social position and relative power of various social groups. 2. To the extent that a group (e.g. homosexuals) blatantly and systematically challenges the validity of the bourgeois family it is likely to become part of the problem population. The family is essential to capitalist socidy as a unit for consumption, socialization and the reprodudion of the SOCially necessary labor force (cf. Frankford and Snitow, 1972; Secombe, 1973; Zaretsky, 1973). 3. O'Connor (1973) discusses this problem in terms of the crisis faced by the capitalist state in maintaining conditions for profitable accumulation and social harmony. 4. It has been estimated, for instance, that 1/3 of all arrests in America arc for the offense of publiC drunkenness. Most of these apparently involve "sick" and destitute "skid row alcoholics" (I..,lorris and Hatvkins, 1969). 5. Despite the general tendencies of state capitalism, its internal ideological
1.
rnnir.1niriinn<; m.1V .1rh 1.1 !1 " f n1 <:tr"h> !'hp ",..jnnf-;nn nE "n ;nllodITIPnt
"l'"l_
510
6.
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
proach. For example, in discussing social welfare policy Rimlinger (1966: 571) concludes that "in a COlU1try like the United States, which has a strong individualistic heritage, the idea is still alive that any kind of social protection has adverse productivity effects. A country like the Soviet Union, with a centrally planned economy and a collectivist ideology, is likely to make an earlier and morc deliberate use of health and welfare programs for purposes of influencing productivity and developing manpower." In his analysis of the lumpenproletariat Marx (1964) clearly recognized how the underdass could be manipulated as a "bribed tool of reactionary
intrigue.
REFERENCES Baran, Paul, and Paul M. Sweezy 1966 Monopoly CapitaL New York Monthly Review Press. Beeker, Howard S. 1967 "Whose side are we on?" Social Problems 14 (Wmter): 239-247.
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Ginlis, Herbert 1973 "Alienation and power." Pp. 431--465 in James H. Weaver (cd.), Modern Political Economy: Radical Versus Orthodox Approaches. Boston: Allyn and Bacon. Gorz, Andre 1970 "Capitalist relations of production and the socially necessary Iabor force." Pp. 155-171 in Arthur Lothstein (ed.), All We Are Saying ... New Yorlc G. P. Putnam. Gross, Bertram M. 1970 "Friendly fascism: a model for America." Social Policy (November/December): #-52. Helmer, Jolm, and Thomas Vietorisz 1973 "Drug use, tile Jabor market and class conflict-" Paper presented at Annual Meeting of the American Sociological Association. Karier, Clarence J. 1973 "Business values and the educational state." Pp. 6-29 in Clarence J. Karier, Paul Violas, and Joel Spring (eds.), Roots of Crisis: American Education in tile Twentieth Century. Chicago: Rand McNally.
Beeker, Howard S., and Irving Louis Horowitz 1972 "Radical politics and sociological research: observations on methodology and ideology." AmencanJoumal of Sociology 78 (July): 48-66.
Uazos, Alexander 1972 "The poverty of tile sociology of deviance: nuts, sluts and 'preverts'." Social Problems 20 (Summer): 103-120.
Blauner, Robert 1969 "Internal colonialism and ghetto revolt." Social Problems 16 (Spring): 393-408.
Mandel, Ernest 1968 Marxist Economic Theory (Volume I). New York: Monthly Review Press.
Bowles, Samuel 1973 "Contradictions in United States higher education." Pp. 165-199 in lames H. Weaver (ed.), Modem Political Economy: Radical Versus Orthodox Approaches. Boston: Allyn and Bacon.
Marcuse, Herbert 1964 One-Dimensional Man. Boston: Beacon Press.
Bowles, Samuel, and Herbert Gintis 1972 "IQ. in the U.S. class structure." Social Policy 3 (November/December)' 65-96. Bureau of Prisons 1972 National Prisoner Statistics. Prisoners in State and Federal Institutions for Adult Felons. Washington D.e.: Bureau of Prisons. Cohen, David K., and Marvin Lazerson 1972 "Education and the corporate order." Socialist Revolution (March/April),48-72. Foucault, l\1icheI 1965 Madness and Civilization. New York: Random House. Frankford, Evelyn, and Ann Snitow 1972 "The trap of domesticity: notes on the family." Socialist Revolution (July/August), 83-94.
Man, Karl 1964 Class Struggles in France 1848-1850. New York: International Publishers. 1967 Capital (Voltune I). New York: International Publishers. Matza, David 1969 Becoming Deviant. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall. Mdntosh, Marl' 1973 "The growth of racketeering." Economy and Society (February): 35-69. Morris, Norval, and Gordon J-Iawkins 1969 The Honest Politician's Guide to Crime ControL Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Musto, David F. 1973 The American Disease: Origins of Narcotic Control. New Haven: Yale UniverSity Press.
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National Institute of Mental Health 1970 Trends in Resident Patients-State and County Mental Hospitals, 1950-1968. Biometry Branch, Office of Program Planning and Evalua_ tion. Rockville, Maryland: National Institute of Mental Health. O'Connor, lames 1975 The Fiscal Crisis of the State. New York: SL Martin's Press. Piven, Frances, and Richard A Cloward 1971 Regulating the Poor: The Functions of Public Welfare. New York: Random House. Rimlinger, Gaston V.
1961
"Social security, incentives, and controls in the US. and U.S.S.R." Comparative Studies in Sociely and History 4 (November): 104-124. 1966 "Welfare policy and economic development: a comparative historical perspective." Journal of Economic History (December): 556-571. Schelling, Thomas 1967 "Economics and criminal enterprise." Public Interest (Spring): 61-78. Secombe, Wally "The housewife and her labour under capitalism." New Left Review Uanuary-Pebruary): 3-24. Spring, Joel 1973
1972 Education and the Rise of the Corporate State. Boston: Beacon Press. 1973 "Education as a form of social control." Pp. 30-39 in Clarence J. Karier, Paul Violas, and loel Spring (eds.), Roots of Crisis: American Education in the Twentieth Century. Chicago; Rand McNally. Turk, Austin T. 1969 Criminality the Legal Order. Chicago: Rand McNally and Company. Zaretsky, EH 1973 "Capitalism, the family and personal life: parts 1 & 2:' Socialist Revolution Uanuary-April/May-June): 69-126, 19-70.
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Analysis and Critique 36 The New Criminology: Continuity in
Criminological Theory ROBERT F. MEIER In a recent essay, Francis Alien warned that "modem criminology is in
danger of being enslaved by its O'WI1 emancipation. "1 Professor ~en's despairing prognosis was occasioned by what he took to be unsatis~ac tory developments in the manner in which criminologists were sel:ctmg and approaching their work. The emancipation AlIen referred to 15 that which had tied criminology to behavioral considerations; the enslavement is that which presently binds a new version of criminology to political considerations. The search for political meanings and motives in the concept of crime and criminal behavior, which Professor AlIen deplores, is thought by many to be a recent criminological development. Variously c~l~ed "critical," "radical"or "the new criminology," the approach expliCItly rejects mOre established paradigms, which are claimed to be incompatible with an acceptable social and humanistic view of crime and it: control. l There is, however, more to the new criminology than the sunple assertion that crime is a political phenomenon, for such a statement would merely be tautological. Laws obviously are passed by political bodies, and these bodies are largely committed to the prevailing social system. This is the case regardless of the economic system within which ..' the law-passing body operates. 3 . .. The new criminology seems to be offering the clisapline a dIstinctive conceptual framework within which to conduct its work. I will argue here, however, that rather than presenting criminology with a novel theoretical alternative, the new criminology has taken some of the discipline's more established notions and rephrased them in politi~al terms. Specifically, one finds in the new criminology elements of a SOCIal pathological view, extensions of early University of Chicago Criminology, an uneasy reliance on functionalism, and an abiding faith in labeling theory and its applications. The new criminology came forward incrementally; there was never a time when there was not a new criminology, and then a time when there was. The gradual development of the new criminology has culReprinted by special permission of Northwestern University School of Law, !ollrllnJ of
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minated in recent years in the establishment of a specialized journal, a cadre of identifiable members and relatively clear boundaries of study. Gresham Sykes has claimed that the "radical" criminology does in fact warrant the label "new" since it is comprised of more than a series
of ideas differing only in emphasis fTom conventional criminology. Sykes maintains that ... it does not appear that this new viewpoint in criminology simply grew out of existing ideas in the field in some ... automatic process where pure logic breeds Wlcontaminated by' the concernS and passions ~f the Lime~ .. Nor does it appear that a flood of new data burst upon the fIeld, requmng a ne\\' theoretical synthesis:!
ce tance of a new U1eory occurs independent of empirical support, cercrisis situations present in a discipline portend the search for new t am theoretical views which will present praclitioners wi tl·1 a cliff. ·ere~t arr~y of intellectual puzzles and justifications for their work, and which WIll point to the direction of subsequent research.
?
THE NEW CRIMINOLOGY
Sykes believes that the advent of a new criminology can only be lU1derstood as the result of the sociohistorical forces which he believes wer~ at work in ~1e 1960's. 111ese include: (1) an increased cynicism concermng the mol1ves ~f tl:os~ in power, the credibility of official pronOlU1cements and th: mstitutlOn of government itself; (2) the growth of a cOlU1terculture wluch began to alter popular images of deviance and tak~ more ~keptical stances toward traditional bases of authority; and (3) an ~ncreasmg politicalization of certain groups in American society w~1l~h h~d accumulated e~ough power to dispute institutionalized discnmmahon and coercion.~ VVhile this list may emunerate aspects of the external environment in which the. ne:". criminology arose, it does not account fully for its growth. SClentific paradigmatic shifts do not come about as a function of such mechanisms alone; they are also tied to internal intellectual developments in a discipline. 6 VVhile the time must be "ripe" for the growth ~d eventual acceptance of intellectual alternatives, 50 too must be the mtellectual climate in which practitioners of a discipline operate. The new criminology's challenge to traditional perspectives is best ur:derstood by reference to the general development of competing theor.les. Although there is some dispute about the matter, SOciologists of sClen~e generally h~ve co~e to believe that the acceptance of a new perspecti~e or th~ory IS heaVIly dependent on older views being unable to deal WIth crUCIal problems, although this inability does not seem to depend on the availability of empirical evidence which runs counter to the older theory. In this sense, theoretical growth of science is not cumul,;tive, but a,~raits. t~1e ascension of theoretical alternatives to replace the. damaged, unfIrushed theories. External forces (such as those desC~l~ed by ~ykes) might under such conditions seem to play a deterrrunmg ~·ol: the acceptance of the new alternative by certain members ~f the disc~pl~~. But thfs. explanation overlooks the importance of ~;~at ~r d.l~:lpline~sp:~lfic, factors which are experienced by scholars in
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It is necessary to be cautious when writing about the new criminology. While the new criminologists ostensibly encourage open dialogues concerning the issues they raise,s they appear to be generally suspicious of evaluative statements of their work, and are apt to view such attempts as intellectual distractions. As one leading spokesman for the new criminology has put it: We should welcome debates which allow LIS to publicize and discuss our perspective, but al the same time, must avoid c~optation.and c?ncentrMe on extending and systematizing an authentically radICal cnminology.'!
Taking the risk, I will try to summarize some main ideas of the new criminology. Since the purpose of this essay is not essentially evalualive,lO no attempt will be made to develop these ideas or to provide the l1 kind of documentation offered by the new crirninologists. Like Sykes,12 I find the new criminology to be centered around a view of a society dominated by an elite which uses the criminal law as a means of meeting and controlling certain threats to the elite's power and position. By employing the legal apparatus to define acceptable standards of conduct and to repress that behavior (and those persons). who violate such standards, the powerful are able to maintain their privileged position.l 3 The powerful are thus seen as a self-interested lot who manipulate the legal structure to their advantage. 1'l The maximization of self-gain is the predominant motive guiding most, if not all, elite behavior in this syste}TI of social, political, and economic arrangements. The meaning of crime in the new criminology is less to be found in the willful violation of legal statutes than in the conscious determination of standards which will serve the materialistic interests of those who are able to participate in the legal-definition process. ~riminal behavior becomes defined as a function of social class position. \:J TIle law of theft, for example, is said to have been established by those in 'Power who have more to lose from thievery. TI1e law is almost invariably broken by persons in the more powerless lower classes who experience greater
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The new criminology perceives crime as an immutable featu f capitalist society and its system of political arrangements which ~ ~_ antee the position of an exploiting elite. "To locate the study of . at .t1. b crIme WI un a mader quest for social justice demands that one underst d the relation~hi~ be~e~n ~ime. and the maintenance of privilege. "16 ~e system of crurunaljustice 15 believed to be essentially coercive. The elite n~e ~ess on ~U.~orily than on power. TIle powerless do not accept most cnmmal defuutions on the basis of perceived legitimacy, but rather con£o~ out of fear of force which the elite can bring to bear on deviance. ThIs force,. embodied by the police, CDurts, and correctional systems, serves the mterests of the powerful by enforcing their rules. 17 Since system functionaries are recruited largely from the powerless classes th ' e e li te must coopt them into their ideology through the inculcation of a "false consciousness." The new criminology implies that if the elite did not control the criminal definition-process, a radical restructuring of the criminal code w?u~d result. This view is a misinterpretation, however, since the new cnn~n.ologists do not call for the decriminalization of offenses such as honuclde, robbery and rape, about which there is substantial consensus reg~rding their seriousness and the necessity for control. Nor do they claIm. that a socialist economic system would obviate these acts. The confusIon that has been generated in this regard seems to stem from th,e new criminology's tendency to cite with approval research on the elite-~upported origins of non-consensual crimes,18 such as vagrancy, prostitut~on and the use of certain drugs. I9 It is implied that since all laws ,denve from similar political processes, the prime mover for all laws IS some powerful elite. In the process the distinction is blurred between la~s which seem to protect the interests of most persons (consensual cnmes) and those laws which protect the interests of a smaller segment of society (non-consensual crimes). " In s~ary form, the tasks of the new criminology have been: (I) to deo:ystify cnmmallaw, both in its origins and applications, since to do s? will uncover the interests of the powerful; (2) to conduct studies of soCIal co.n~rol a.gencies,. ~ur:aucracies, and mass media to expose their c,omphcl~ WIth an elitIst Ideology; (3) to propose new criminal definitIo~s w~ch, c.o~ecting the imbalance created by the elite's influence on legISlation, will mclude violations of certain inherent rights; and (4) to put th~ new criminology'stheory into practice (termed "praxis") by attempting to alter the eXlstmg econOIruc and political arrangements of capItalism, which are believed to give rise to the present situation. To examine the genesis of these ideas, I will concentrate on the main perspectives in criminology, roughly in order of their historical emer_____ "rI __ U __ - - · , .,' ."
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criminology in this country. It was followed by the "Chicago school of criminology," t11en by "functionalism." The "Iabeling perspective" is the most recent of the major criminological approaches. The new criminology has bon-owed selectively from each of these positions in a synergistic manner.
SOCIAL.pATHOLOGY 111e social pathology approach to social problems was based on an analogy which likened society to the functioning of a biological organism. Social problems were those conditions which interfered with the "normal" (i.e., "desirable") workings of sOciety.2o Problems such as poverty, mental illness, prostitution, and crime were condeI1U1ed because "everyone knew" them to be wrong. The social pathological view, which came to prominence in the early years of this century, was congruent vvith the personal ideologies of its scholar-advocates. 21 The social pathologists were recruited largely from small midwestern communities and were imbued with a sense of the importance of religion, as well as a distrust of urban life. This "sacred provincialism" resulted in a moralistic approach which not only called attention to the existence of the "evil" of crime, but also provided the element of moral censure requisite to speed the correction of criminal behavior. Though the new criminologists overtly reject the social pathological approach to crime, they have retained a number of its major features. The social pathologists were concerned with the individual pathology of criminals; the new criminologists deal with the politicnZ pathology of capitalism. In the new criminology, it is no longer the individual criminal who is considered pathological (nor is the criminal's illegal behavior necessarily considered pathological). It is rather the social and political system which is said to maintain the conditions which produce the criminal and his behavior. TIle concept of pathology is thus transferred from the actions of a powerless criminal to the behavior of a powerful elite, Consequently, the notion of pathology is aversive to the new criminologists not on principle, but on the basis of its misplaced application; simply put, the wrong sources have received the pathology label. The theoretical problem that this class emphasis creates for the new criminology is often unreCOgnized but is nevertheless substantial. The location of "causes" of his behavior and the amount of influence ascribed to those causes have implications for the image of the deviant. If deviance is said to be produced by forces external to the individual, he is personally less responsible for his actions. In the new criminology, the -. ___ ..:1 "_~, •• ,~_1", ...... " •· .........."''''onh:: n"t nnlu:,! npr<:nn'<: in::lhilitv to oarticioate
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36. Roberi' F. fvfeier
effectively in political and economic decisions which might affect his life, but is also an appropriate adjective to describe his lack of responsibility for his own behavior. It is in this sense that the new criminologists seem to subscribe to what Hollander 22 has termed "selective determinism." While the actions of the mugger are deemed to be determined, those of the price fixer are not; while the actions of the murderer are the result of a repressive society,2J the actions of the corrupt politician are not. There is a related view, which might be termed "socialist utopian vision/' which holds that once people have enough of the basics, such as the right kind of work and attractive opportunities for living and learning, there will be no materialism and hence no crime. While there may be some measure of truth in this claim, it is not self-evident and it has not been empirically demonstrated. Declaring the actions of the powerless to be attributable to morality and those of the powerful attributable to materialism suggests a duality which can be resolved only by making materialism a function of power. If self-interest is defined in terms of power, then only the powerful can act from this motive. In this manner, the new criminologists invert the premise of the social pathologists. The pathologists claimed moral eminence only for the elite, whose forward vision and proficiency were necessary for a smoothly running, progressive society. The powerful were the moral, politicat and economic leaders, while the powerless attempted to debase the lofty intents of the elite. The selection of those persons, behaviors, and conditions considered pathological was made by the pathologists on moralistic grounds bolstered by elements of social Da.rvvinism. The content of the new criminology is also ruled by moral, rather than scientific, bases. "Liberal" criminology has used the criminal law to define its boundaries: acts defined in the statutes have formed the basis for criminological inquiry. The new criminologists reject such a notion and call for the criminalization (or, at least, the study) of acts which are not presently criminal in a strict legalistic sense. Racism, sexism, imperialism and other forms of repression have been added to the new criminologists' agenda. 2" It is argued that the discipline of criminology should be humanistically oriented; that is, that criminology should serve the powerless by studying conditions which inhibit or destroy the free expression of uniquely human rights and values. New Criminologists do not deny that the problems they choose to study are morally detennined; indeed, they proclaim that problem selection based on any other criterion has never existed,25 They maintain that they are merely being more candid about exposing their values than traditional criminologists, who often hide hpnp
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than eschewing pathology, openly embraces it. What has changed are those conditions considered pathological, rather than the process by which such an identification is made.
CHICAGO CRIMINOLOGY Chicago sociology26 moved the concept of pathology from the individual to the group level; it was no longer persons who were patllOlogical but c0111munities (or, more precisely, "natural areas") that were disorganized, This disorganization was the result of a conflict of conduct norms among residents which produced ambiguous or contradictory standards of behavior. The concept of social disorganization further shed its pathological connotation in the work of Edwin H. Sutherland who talked of "differential social organization" in his general theory of crime. Marx stressed the notion of political conflict. The fad that Marx has little to say about crime and law could mean either the he had scant interest in the subject, or that he had little insight into how this particular behavior related to the political conflict he described. The new criminology's use of the term "conflict" with respect to criminal behavior appears to derive from the Chicago tradition, rather than from Marx. That the proletariat and the bourgeoisie are in conflict over political power does not automatically lead to the conclusion that the powerful "create" crime, even though they may indeed control the means which produce definitions of crime, And even if that conclusion were demonstrated to be correct, it would not necessarily accOlmt for the powerless group behaving more criminally than the powerful unless crime were defined in terms of power, which would make this true by definition. The Chicago theorists specified the relationship between crime and conflict, characterizing conflict in non political terms. Their theories, however, never reached the societallevel of generalizationY What distinguishes the new criminology from previous structural theories is its emphasis on the relationship between political and economic factors on the one hand, and social and legal factors on the other. The roots of such a view can be traced to the work of WiUem Banger. 28 The new criminologists pay an intellectual debt to Banger?! but find more contemporary meaning in the writings of prison inmates, revolutionaries, and other political dissidents such as George Jackson, Angela Davis, pre1975 Eldridge Cleaver, Franz Fanon, Malcolm X and Bobby Seale. Firsthand documentation of the repressive nature of the capitalist society has come to be empirically valued in the new criminology. But the llO;:P
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Chicago theorists found substantial meaning for their work in similar kinds of reports. 3D Indeed, the utility of such accounts for both the Chicago theorists and the new criminologists is remarkably similar. Both are interested in the process whereby a person comes to commit a criminal act. What has changed is the location of the causes of behavior. One wonders whether the new criminologists would find a political meaning in Shaw's jackroller, and whether Sutherland would have been able to locate aspects of differential association in the life of Malcolm X. The new criminology, as I have indicated, calls for a critical reappraisal of legalistic or state definitions of crime. Most of what is presently against the law, it is believed, probably should be outlawed, but there also is much that is neglected in these provisions. The most systematic statement of this issue is by the Schwendingers,31 who call for a redefinition of the term "criminal" to include those conditions which violate basic human rights and potentials. This call for criminalizing certain acts of governments and corporations, however, does not derive directIy from the new criminology, which has merely broadened and made more political one of the more enduring debates in criminology. That the new criminology "discovered" the political nature of law is untrue, and may be an example of what Sorokin has called "intellectual amnesia."32 In 1933, for instance, the Bureau of Social Hygiene, under the auspices of the Social Science Research CoUncil, published a report dealing with the feasibility of establishing an institute of criminology. This document, known as the Michael and Adler Report,33 set about to review what was then known about crime and to make recommendations concerning the possibility of an institute from which public policy planning might be made. The report noted that it was necessary for the law to keep pace with changing conditions: "It appears to be desirable that the behavior content of the criminal law should keep abreast of changes in behavior patterns or, at least, that it should not lag too far behind."" Michael and Adler also note that "It is highiy questionable that 'sociology' and what is called 'political science' are independent of each other."35 A few years later, Thorsten Sellin, under the auspices of the Social Science Research Council, set out to articulate some research directions for criminology." Sellin called for a redefinition of the traditional parameters of criminological inquiry and maintained that focusing on the violations of conduct norms would provide theoretically better substance for criminology. Sutherland later entered this arena in defense of his then newly-minted concept of white-collar crime. Anticipating adverse reactions from those who believed that the criminal law was the only basis for the appellation "criminal," Sutherland defended his po-
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sition against the legalist, Paul Tappan, in an exchange that anticipates much of the Schwendingers' work of a generation later.37
FUNCTIONALISM That the new criminology should be "functionalist" is an outgrowth of the problems it deals with and the general approach taken toward their solution. Functional analysis, identified with persons whose ideas on crime are deemed to be theoretically and politically conservative, is a tec1mique which explores the underlying dimensions of problems, looking for latent functions or features which have manifest dysfunctions. Merton's3B analysis of political machines, Bell's39 study of organized crime, and Davis's"o investigation of prostitution all contain a similar theme: that while these problems are manifestly dysfunctional for society, they all exhibit latent functions which fuel and account for their existence. The new criminology, too, uses this style of research when examining the nature of crime and the functions of the criminal law. Its concentration on the society's elite foreshadows the conclusion that crime is manifestly functional for the elite, allowing them to use force to maintain their power, and latently dysfunctional in fomenting proletariat resentment and conflict. Robert Merton is probably the most well-known functionalist. Merton and the new criminologists both stress social class position as a determinant of criminality. Merton notes that a denial of access to certain cultural goals and the ensuing frustration that this engenders is not randomly distributed, but is concentrated in the lower classes:!! While Merton views the location of crime in the lower classes as problematic and in need of explanation, the new criminology sees it as natural and politically inevitable. This does not mean that official estimates are necessarily accurate indicators of criminal behavior (although such a position is not entirely incompatible with the new criminology), but rather that there is a lack of correspondence between the manifest and latent functions of the figures. Rather than informing us about the "correct" distribution of criminal behavior, official crime statistics covertly instnIct us in the actions of agencies of social control, the class-based definition of crime, and the image of what is to be considered criminaL 'The political nature of criminal statistics is revealed only by understanding their latent functions. If official records of crime are suspect, so too are the motivations of those who construct those records-the agents of social control.42 On the manifest level their motivations are objective: to document viola-
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Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
tions of the normative demands of criminal law. On the latent level, how~ver, we find that the criminal justice system operates against the best mterests of the poor and the powerless because it intends to do 50:43
This process of uncovering politically latent meanings is what is meant by "demystifying" the criminal law; that is, exposing the latent meanings and intentions in capitalist society. Once we are able to see below the, po,:,,",erful sy~tem of privilege maintenance, the new criminology mamtams, we will uncover the real political plan. . ~e ne,: c.riminolo~ and Me~ton also share a ~ommon image of a cnmmal. WIthin Merton 5 perspective, the offender IS one who has been unable to compete equitably with others who are better placed in society. But Merton's portrait of the criminal is only half drawn. We are able to glimpse something of the total picture in the "decision" of the criminal to "innovate" (as Merton defines it), but we are presented with the behavior rather than the person. Thus, we are told of the structural antecedents (culturally prescribed goals and unavailable means), the resulting personal frustration this generates, and the behavioral outcome (innovation); we are given nothing of the deviant himself, aside from his probable lower class status. The new criminology presents a similarly incomplete picture of the offe~der. It locates a set of structural antecedents (capitalism), the resulting personal (i.e., political) frustration this arouses, and the behavi~ral ~utcome ~a political act, defined by the elite as crime). We are given lIttle mformation about the deviant himself aside from his lower class position. If Merton gives us a glinuner of a frustrated person acting out of the same motivations for success as everyone else, the new criminology presents a more romantic, and at times heroic, image of the offender. In the new criminology, offenders seem like Robin Hoods. Merton and the new criminologists agree on one thing: Merton's materialistically frust:ated innovators and the new criminology's politically defiant freedom fIghters would act differently given a choice in the social structUre. These criminals are driven to their crimes, not attracted by them.
POLITICS AND LABELING In one of the most widely cited works in the SOciology of deviance, Howard S. Becker44 defines deviance relativistically: no behavior is inherently deviant since deviance is not a quality of an act, but the response of others to that act. "The deviant is one to whom the label has successfully been applied; deviant behavior is behavior that people so label."45 Th.e nature-of ~e reaction is a function of social groups who created deVIance bv making rules whose infraction con!=:tihlh",,- rlpvi::1nrp
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36. Robert F. Meier
and who respond in terms of the rules they have created46 This reaction is not random, but rather is patterned and purposely given only to certain kinds of acts. This is why it is essential to return to the rule creation process to see whose rules are being broken. Becker informs us that ... people are in fact always forcillg their rules on others, applying them more or less against the will and without the consent of those others .... Differences in the ability to make rules and apply them to other people are essentially power differentials (either legal or extralegal):17
Such rules aTe said to be the "object of conflict and disagreement, part of the political process of sodety."48 Seeker identifies certain groups which are particularly involved in creation of deviance, and calls the members "moral entrepreneurs."·19 In addition to his emphasis on rule creation, Seeker stresses the importance of the administration of those rules. Labeling theory shows that not only is rule-making concentrated in the hands of select groups, but that the application of criminal labels is not a random phenomenon. Since rules are not made to apply to all equally (they prohibit behavior that is largely indigenous to the lower classes), it is not surprising that tile application of the law should follow social class lines. 50 Richard Ericson,Sl writing on the English new criminologists, has observed that the new criminology has been defined in terms of what it is not, rather than what it is. 52 Ericson also notes the new criminology makes extensive use of labeling theory not only to orient members intellectually, but also to utilize the "blaming quality" labeling theory provides. This quality arises from the configuration of "causes" of deviance that labeling theory alleges. As Becker and Horowitz have stated: If sociology allows for a choice on the part of human actors, then it can blame, by the way it assigns causes, any of the people involved since they could have chosen not to do what they did. This has consequences for the political character of sociological analysis. 53.
The deviant in labeling theory is one whose behavior, at least in its secondary aspects, has been determined by the reactions of others. If he is not to blame for this condition, the audience which reacted to his behavior and thus perpehlated his deviance is much less innocent. The political nahlre of the new criminology, summarized in the tenn "praxis" is, of course, inescapable. In the dual role of scholar and activist, the new criminologists have set for themselves an ideal of practicing what they preach. The new criminology offers not only a new theoretical alternative to traditional criminology, but also seeks to provide scientific legitimacy to socialist political activism. Critics of the new criminology have charged that it is little more than "rhetoric." This _1-.~_~~':~
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problem of 'rhetoric' is ... bothersome because the cry of 'too much rhetoric' itself can be a rhetorical device that obscures the real issues posed .... "54 The rhetorical charge is a serious one, however, and cannot be dismissed in so cavalier a fashion. If the new criminology's claims to truth are based on nothing more than a particular set of values and moral po-
sitions, resolution of differences with opponents may not be possible. Acceptance of the new criminology can then take place only in likeminded persons, who do not perceive a general theoretical alternative. The new criminologists, not denying the rhetorical nature of their scholarship, indicate that this is the major reason why academic criminology has been unreceptive to their ideas and why some new criminologists have been denied university tenure. As one group of new criminologists points out: "To say that socialists are necessarily un-scientific is the form that red-baiting takes in the university."55 Thus, tenure problems encountered by hvo well-known criminologists have resulted, say the new criminologists, from their particular political views rather than the quality of their scholarship. Is this marriage of scholarship and political activism unique to the new criminology? It would appear not. TIle issue was identified and discussed prior to the present advent of the new crintinology, particularly in the works of C. Wright Mills,56 Robert Lynd,57 Howard Beeker,58 and Alvin Goulclner,59 all of whom advocated vocationally relevant scholarship. While these persons may be thought of as sympathetic intellectually to the new criminology, their writings cannot be construed as being part of the new criminology. The overlap with labeling theory can be sununarized as follows: in both the new criminology and labeling theory one sees concern with (1) the creation and function of rules; (2) the enforcement of rules (laws)
for the benefit of the rule makers; (3) the effect of the application of rules in the form of social control for individuals; and (4) the politicalization of deviants who see through the guise of the law to the true nature of their own repression.
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS In addition to providing a valuable framework within which to study
rule maldng and rule application, labeling theory contributed to the new criminology the idea that political considerations could be fused to "scientific" information so that knowledge and politics constituted hvo aspects of the same thing. The foundations of praxis and the concern with nnWPf <1nn _<:nrlphr lp::.n inpvit::'hhr tn rnn.;:inpr::lHnn.;: nf th", ....ro:d-.;nn
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and application of rules. Because labeling theory, for one reason or another, concentrated on the consequences of the application of rules, the way was cleared for the new criminology to focus on rulemaking as a substantive study area. Criminology's interest in labeling theory also arises, in some measure, from the theory's ability to generate testable propositions which are derived from an intuitively appealing but not self-evident irony: social control efforts contain within them the basis for their own justification. The new criminology also begins with an irony, but one derived from functionalism. Functionalism's irony is that while problems have manifest dysfunctions, they also have latent functions, and these latent functions help explain the persistence of those problems. The new criminology extends this idea, but with a hvist. The new criminology (1) performs the functional analysis not for society "as a whole, but only for the elite of that society, and (2) reverses the characterization of manifest and latent contributions. What is functional and dysfunctional largely depends on the amount of power one possesses. The new criminology pays little attention to the practical functions and dysfunctions of crime, especially for the powerless who have to bear the brunt of victimization and repressive measures.
The Chicago school was U,e first to legitimize (1) the explanatory concept of conflict (although it was defined slightly differently here), and (2) the use of first-person accounts of crime and empirical evidence in support of theoretical positions. Within the work of the Chicago school took place the beginnings of discussions about the criminal law and its content and scope. The pathologists identified the genesis of social problems as stemming from personal and group inadequacies. The deviant was immoral and his behavior in need of correction. The new criminology, in its return to the pathological position, finds in the actions of the elite a different location for what is considered pathological. But if the pathologists' approach to crime was dictated by the sacred, the new criminologists employ secular (political) criteria for their determination. The pathological stance is maintained; it is only that new villains are identified. The stuff of the new criminology is deeply rooted in criminological theory. This is neither praiseworthy, nor an indictment, since the utility of criminological theory is founded on other criteria. The developments in criminology and, indeed, in all other disciplines, are
rarely wholly creative. The synergistic goal of the new criminology may be nothing more than spirited eclecticism with fancy (and presently fashionable) political terms. H much of the history of criminological theory in the United States ('::In hp <:;ppn
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36. Robert F. Meier
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
creasing in recent years),61 the new criminology is likely to draw sharp criticism. Francis Allen'5 fear, noted at the outset of this article, is neither a conservative lament nor misplaced antagonism. If criminology is indeed in danger of being enslaved by its own emancipation, it would appear its captive will be in the form of an old, rather than a new, jailer.
NOTES 1. 2.
F. Alien, Tlte Crimes of Politics 13 (1974). 1. Taylar, P. WaIton, and J. Young, The New CrilltillologzJ: For a Social TIJeonj
3. 4.
E. Van den Haag, "No Excuses for Crime," 423 AHnals!37 (1976). G. Sykes, "The Rise of Critical Criminology," 65 JOHnlal of CrimilJal Law and CriminoiogJj 206, 211 (1974). See also Gibbons and Garabedian, "Conservative, Liberal and Radical Criminology: Some Trends and Observations," in Tile Criminologist: Crime and the Crimillal51 (C Reasons, ed., 1974): Reasons, "The Politicizing of Crime, the Criminal and the Criminologist," 64 JOllmal of Criminal Law mId CrimillologJj 471 (1973). T. Kuhn, The Structllre Of Scientific Revolllb'0I1S (1962). Kuhn, supm note 6, at 81; M. Polyani, Personal Knowledge 292 (1958); l. Lakatos, "Falsification and the Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes," Criticism and tile Growth of Knowledge 100-101 (l. Lakatos and A. Musgrave, eds., 1970). The editorial statement contained in the new criminology'S journal follows the traditional format for such declarations: "Crime and Socinl Justice welcomes contributions to all sections of the journaL" 4 Crime and Social Jllstice 72 (1975). Platt, "Prospects for a Radical Criminology in the United States," 1Crime and Social Justice 28 (1974). Note the similarity between the foregoing and the following exchange: "I wa/lt someone to tell me," Lieutenant Schiesskopf beseeched them all prayerfully. "If any of it is my fault, I wallt to be told." "He wants someone to tell him," Clevinger said. "He wants everyone to keep still, idiot," Yossarian answered. J. Helier, Catch-22 at 68 (1961). Some evaluative statements have begun to appear. See Alien, supra note 1; E. TIlOmpson, Whigs alld Hunters: TIle Origins of the Black Act (1975); E. Van den Haag, PlInishing Crimillals: COllceming a Ven) Old alld Painful Question (1975); J. Wilson, Thillkillg about Crime (1975); Carson, "Symbolic and Instrumental Dimensions of Early Factory Legislation," in Crime, Criminology alld Public Policy 107 (R. Hood, ed., 1975); Carson, "The Sociology of Crime and the Emergence of Criminal Laws," in Deviance and Social COlltrol67 (p.-Rock and M. McIntosh, eds., 1974); Gibbs and Erickson, "Maior Developments in the Socioloeical StudY of Deviance." in All-
DJ Deviance (1973).
5.
6. 7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12. 13. 14.
15.
16. 17.
527
1II1l11 Review of Sociolo~r;;Jj 21 (A. Inkeles, J. Coleman and N. Smelser, eds., 1975); Hirsl, "Marx and Engels on Law, Crime, and Morality," in Critical Crimillolog1j 203 (I. Taylor, P. WaIton, & J. Young, eds., 1975); Sykes, supra note 4; Turk, "Prospects and Pitfalls for Radical Criminology: A Critical Response to PIa tt," 4 Crime and Social Justice 41 (1945) (see note 9 supra); Van den Haag, sI/pm note 3: Walker, "Lost Causes in Criminology," in Crillle, Criminology alld Public Policy (R Hood. ed., 1975). That I have been somewhat selective in choosing which points I consider essential to the new criminology will be obvious; the selection has been guided by the nature of the argument presented here. Sykes, supra note 4. B. Kriseberg, Crime and Privilege (1975). The term self-interest is most often used to denote selfishness, but there is a distinction: "Self-interest is the satisfaclion of one's desires; selfishness is the satisfaction of one's desires at the expense of someone else." B. Dunham, Mm Agaillst Myth 41 (1947), quoted in H. Schwendinger and J. Schwendinger, The Sociologists of the Cllai,.190 (1974). W. Chambliss, "Functional and Conflict Theories of Crime," 17 MSS Module 1 (1974). See also the revised version of this paper in WJlOse Law? Whose Order? 1 (W. Chambliss and M. Mankoff, eds., 1976). Kriseberg, supm note 13 at 30. [Emphasis added.] . .. . But see R Quinney, Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control 11l CapItalIst SOCI-
ety (1974). Hall, ThefI, Law amI Society (2nd ed., 1952).
18. 19.
J.
"..:
D
. W. Chambliss, "A SociolOgical AnalysiS of the Law of Vagrancy," 12 Socwl Problems 67 (1964); Roby, "Politics and Criminal Law: Revision of the New York State Penal Law on Prostitution," 17 Social Problems 83 (1969); T. Duster, The Legislation of Moralih) (1970). 20. Tile Solution of Socilll Problems (E. Rubington and M. Weinberg, eds., 1971). 21. See Schwendinger and Schwendinger, supra note 14, who disagree with the well-known analysis of this issue contained in Mills, "The Professional Ideology of Social Pathologists," 49 AmcriClm jOll/"1lal of Sociology 165 (1943). 22. Hollander, "Sociology, Selective Determinism, and the Rise of Expectations," 8 Americall Sociologist 147 (1973). 23. A recent editorial in the new criminology's journal dedicated that issue to one of the former staff members of the journal, Mary Gay, who had been killed by her husband. The moral outrage such an act might otherwise generate was tempered: "Mary Gay was beaten to death by a man-her husband, who like her was a victim of a cruel system. " 4 Crime and Social jllstice 6-! (1975) (dedicalion). 24. Schwendingcr and Schwendinger, "Defenders of Order or Guardians of Human Righls? 51sslles ill Criminology 123 (1970). 25. Krisberg, "Teaching Radical Criminology," 1 Crime llnd Social jllstice 64, 65 (1974). u __
~_
r'1.: ____
c __
:_,_~,
/10';'71
27. 28. 29.
30.
31. 32.
33.
34. 35. 36. 37.
38.
39. 40.
41. 42.
43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49.
50.
This was accomplished by the functionalists; see text accompanying notes 37-42 infrn. W. Bonger, Crilllilwlity and Ecollomic Conditions (1916). The Payment, however, is usually awkward since Banger has been considered to have used a "totally un-Marxist" approach in his work. Taylar, Walton and Young, supra note 2, at 298, quoted in Gibbs and Erickson, supra note 10, at 37-39. C. Conwell, Tile Professiollal Thief, (E. Sutherland, 1937); C. Shaw, Brothers il1 Crime (1938); Shaw, The Jack-Roller (1930). More recent examples trom this tradition can be found in W. Chambliss, Box Mal!: A ProfessiolUll Thief's JOllmcy (1972); B. Jackson, Outside tIle Law: A TT1iets Primer (1972). Schwendinger and Schwendinger, supra note 24. P. Sorokin, Fads and Foibles ill Modem Sociology 3-20 (1956). J. NUchael and M. Adler, Crime, Lnw alld Social Science (1933). Id. at 26. Id. at 83, n. 26. T. Sellin, Cultllre Conflict alId Crime (1938). E. Sutherland, "Is 'White Collar Crime' Crime?" 10 Americalt Sociological Rr:-uicw 132 (1945); P. Tappan, "Who Is the Criminal? 12 Americall SociologiC1I1 Review 96 (1947). R. Merton, Social TheOl}! mid Social Stl"lldure 72 (1957). D. Bell, TIle End of Ideology 115-58 (1960). Davis, "Prostitution," in Colttell/poran) Social Problems (R. Merton and R. Nisbet, eds" 1966). Merton, supra note 39, at 131-94. J. Young, Tllf.' Drllgtakers 174 (1971). Sykes, sllpra note 4. H. Seeker, Olltsiders (1963). Id. at 9. Id. at 9-10. Id. at 17-18. Id. at 18. Id. at 147-63. From the labeling tradition the uses of official criminal statistics have been most seriously questioned. These statistics point clearly to the conclusion that "street" crime is heavily concentrated in lower socioeconomic groups. While this conclusion has been attenuated (but only mildly) by self-report and victimization studies which suggest a slightly more even distribution of this behavior throughout the class system, the claim is made that official statistics are relatively accurate estimates, not of criminal behavior, but of the actions of social control agencies. It is not evident whether there really is more crime in the lower classes, thus forcing the police to concentrate their efforts there, or whether the police concentrate their efforts there for other reasons. See Kitsuse and Cieourel. "A Note on the Uses of Official Statistics," 11 Social Problems 131
51.
R. Ericson, "British Criminology: A New Subject or Old Politics?" 16
52.
CIIIllldian Jotll1lal of Criminology and COITectiollS 352 (1974). See also S. Cahen, Tlle Images of Deviallce 16 (1971); A. Gouldner, T1Je Coming Crisis in Sociology 20 (l970).
53.
Beeker and Horowitz, "Radical Politics and Sociological Research," 78
(1963).
Portions of this paper are based on WilJiam J. Chambliss, Exploring Criminology (New York: Macmillian, 1988). Reprinted by permission of Criminology and Crimillal Jllstice.
American JOJlrnal of Sociology 58 (1972). 54.
55.
Krisberg, Slipi'll note 25, at 65. Marzotto, Platt and Snare, "A Reply to Turk," 4 Crime and Social Justice 3, 44 (1975). See note 10 supra.
56.
C.
57. 58. 59. 60.
61.
tvIills, The Soci%gicalllllllgil1atiOll (1959). R. Lynd, Kllowledge for What? (1939). H. Beeker, "Whose Side Are We On?" 20 Socilll Problems 239 (1967).
A. Gouldner, "The Sociologist as Partisan: Sociology and tlle Welfare State," 30 American Sociologist 103 (1968). D. Matza, Becomillg Devimlt (l969). A. Liazos, "The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts and "Preverts'," 20 Social Problems 103 (1972); Thio, "Class Bias in the Sociology of Deviance," 8 American Sociologist 1 (1973).
Contemporary Application 37 State-Organized Crime-The American Society of Criminology, 1988 Presidential Address
WILLIAM J. CHAMBLISS There is a form of crime that has heretofore escaped criminological inquiry, yet its persistence and omnipresence raise theoretical and methodological issues crucial to the development of criminology as a science. I am referring to what I call "state-orgaruzed crime."
THE PROBLEM Twenty-five years ago I began researching the relationship among organized crime, politicS, and law enforcement in Seattle, Washington (Chambliss, 1968, 1971, 1975a, 1975b, 1977, 1980, 1988a). At the outset I concentrated on understanding the political, economic, and social rela-
tions of those immediately involved in organizing and financing vice in the local area. It became clear to me, however, that to understand the
532
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 37. William j. Chambliss
peace. They were forced to settle for less desirable lands or areas not yet claimed by the Spanish and Portuguese. Although they lacked the vision to finance explorers such as Christopher Columbus and Vasco da Gama, France, England, and Holland nonetheless possessed powerful navies. ll1ey were also the home of some of the world's more adventurous pirates, who heretofore had limited their escapades to the European and African coasts. With the advent of Spain and Portugal's discovery of vast new sources of wealth, other European nations were faced with a dilemma: They could sit idly by and watch the center of power tip inexorably toward the Iberian Peninsula, or they could seek ways to interfere with the growing wealth of their neighbors to the south. One alternative, of course, was to go to war. Another, less risky for the moment but promising some of the same results, was to enter into an alliance with pirates. France, England, and Holland chose the less risky course. To transport the gold and silver from the Spanish Main (the Caribbean coast of South America) to Bilbao and from Brazil to Lisbon required masterful navigational feats. A ship laden with gold and silver could not travel fast and was easy prey for marauders (Exquemling, 1670). To complicate matters, ships were forced by the prevailing winds and currents to travel in a predictable direction. These conditions provided an open invitation for pirates to exploit the weaknesses of the transporting ships to their advantage. Poverty and a lack of alternatives drove many young men to sea in search of a better life. Some came to the New World as convicts or indentured slaves. The lure of the pirate's life was an alternative that for all its hardships was more appealing than the conditions of serfdom and indentured servitude. The French government was the first to seize the opportunity offered by engaging in piracy (Ritchie, 1986). It saw in piracy a source of wealth and a way of neutralizing some of the power of Spain and PortugaL Although piracy was an act second to none in seriousness in French law (summary execution was the punishment), the French government nonetheless instructed the governors of its islands to allow pirate ships safe portage in exchange for a share of the stolen merchandise. Thus, the state became complicitous in the most horrific sprees of criminality in history. The pirate culture condoned violence on a scale seldom seen. There was no mercy for the victims of the pirates' attacks. Borgnefesse, a French pirate who wrote his memoirs after retiring to a gentleman's life in rural France, was an articulate chronicler of these traits. He wrote, for example, of how he once saved a young girl "not yet into puberty" from being raped by two "beastly filibusters" who were chasing her out
533
of a )10use in a village that he and his men had attacked (LeGolif, 1680). Borgnefesse wrote of being embarrassed that on that occasion he felt "pity" for the young girl and violated one of the ironclad laws of the pirate's world: that women were prizes for whoever found them in the cour~e of a raid. Th~ would.-be ~apists resisted his effort to Save the girl and told ~e I was mterfer:ng In a matter which was none of my business, that pIllage was pernutted in the forcing of the women as well as the coffers." It was commonplace among pirates to "take no prisoners" unless, of course, they could be useful to the victors. Borgnefesse described how he cut off the heads of everyone on board a Spanish "prize" because the enemy angered him by injuring his arm during the battle. Another time he and his men took all the people on a captured ship, tied them up in the mainsail, threw them in the water, and then drank rum while listenin? to the screams of the slowly drowning men. For all his criminal explOlts, however, Borgnefesse was well protected by French ships and French colonies. England and Holland were quick to join the French. Sir Richard Hawkins and his apprentice, Francis Drake, were issued "letters of marque" from the Admiralty directing governors of British colonies and c~ptains of Britis~ warships to give safe passage and every possible asSIstance to Hawldns and Drake as they were acting "under orders of the Crown" (British Museum, 1977). TI1eir "orders" were to engage in pu:acy agamst Sparush and Portuguese ships. Thus, the state specifically mstructed selected individuals to engage in criminal acts. The law, it must be emphasized, did. not change. Piracy remained a crime punishable by death, but some prrates were given license to murder, rape, plunder, destroy, and steal. The state's complicity in piracy was more successful, one suspects, than even the most avaricious monarchs expected. On one voyage (between 1572 and 1573), Drake returned to England with enough gold and silver to support the government and all its expenses for a period of 7 years (Corbett, 1898a, 1898b). Most of this wealth came from Drake's attack on the town of Nombre de Dios, which was a storage depot for Sparush ,?old and silver. In this venture Drake joined forces with some French pIrates and ambushed a treasure train. Drake was knighted for his efforts, but the Spanish were not silent. They formally challenged Britain's policies, but the queen of England demed that Drak~ was operating with_ her blessing (after, of course, taking the gold and sIlver that he brought home) and Drake was tried as a criminal. He was publicly exiled, but privately he was sent to Ireland, where he reern~rged several years later (in 1575) serving under the first Earl of Essex in Ireland.
I
I
534
37. Wuliam J. Chambliss
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Borgnefesse and Sir Francis Drake are only two of hundreds of pirates who plied their trade between 1400 and 1800 (Senior, 1976). Their crimes were supported by, and their proceeds shared with, whatever nation-state offered them protection and supplies. In theoI}'i each na-: non-state only protected its ov-m pirates, but in practice, they all pro-
tected any pirates willing to share their gains. To rationalize the fundamental contradiction between the law and the interests of the stateJ European nations created a legal fiction. Issued either directly from the monarch or the Admiralty, the letters of marque gave pirates a sort of license, but with specific limitations on
the kinds of acts that were permissible. One restriction was that the pirates were not to (a) attack ships of the country issu1ng the letter, (b) plunder villages or towns, or (c) open the captured cargo until they
j
535
j
borders was the accumulation of capital. Not only was another nation's wealth a threat to the autonomy of neighboring states, one nation's gain
j
was invariably another's loss. Piracy helped to equalize the balance and reduce the tendency toward the monopolization of capital accumulation. The. need for capital. accumulation does not end with the emer'b~"D..<:'e. ol c.'i:I.~\\:a\.\<:'m-, \.'t c.1::)"(\.\i\:\."\l.€.'..S ':2.Q \()!'I.'E:, os \'cte.
e.c.onOID-1 auu a naUGr\S
j
mi\ita_ry anti ec.oI\C1ro.l.c. sh.e.n'E,fu ue\>e:u&' ()n. \.'t, ~~n \I\\.o..C'j c.l.!a'Sl;!~ \.'\:1 be a viable method tor accumulating capital, other larms 01 illegauly were employed, In today's world, there is evidence that some small
j
city-states in the Far East (especially in Indonesia) still pursue a policy of supporting pirates and sharing in their profits. But piracy no longer plays a major role in state-organized crime; today, the role is filled by
j
smuggling,
returned to port.
The reality of piracy was quite at odds with all of these limitations. Much of the success of piracy depended on attacking towns and villages, during which raping f plundering, and razing the town were accepted practices, Pirates sometimes kept one or more officers from
captured ships along \o\~th their letters of marque and identifying flags in order to show them in case of attack by a ship from another country, This also enabled a pirate ship from France, say, to raise an English flag and attack a French ship. For the pirates loyalty to the nation came sec-
ond to the search for gold. At one time or another virtually every European nation, and the United States as well, between 1500 and 1800 was compHcitous in piracy. In the United States, Charleston r South Carolina, several New
England towns, and New York were safe harbors for pirates. In return for sharing in the prize, these towns provided safety from capture by foreign authorities and a safe place for pirates to celebrate their victories. John Paul Janes became an American hero through his success as a pirate and was even given a commission in the navy (de la Croix, 1962; MacIntyre, 1975). Jean and Pierre Lafitte were the toast of New Orleans
society while they enriched themselves by organizing and aiding pirates and smugglers at the mouth of the Mississippi River. Their status was considerably enhanced when the federal government enlisted their aid in the war against England and made Jean an officer of the U.s, Navy in return for helping to defeat the British Navy that was gathering its forces for an attack on New Orleans (Verill, 1924). In time of war, nations enlisted pirates to serve in their navy. In time of peace, they shared in the profits. During the period from 1600 to 1900, capitalism was becoming £irrn.
'--!~~ .... I-
t:>.rnnomic system of the world, The es-
SMUGGLING
j
Smuggling occurs when a government has successfully cornered the market on some commodity or when it seeks to keep a commodity of another nation from crossing its borders. In the annals of crimel every-
j
thing from sheep to people, wool to wine, gold to drugs, and even ideas, have been prohibited for either export of import. Paradoxically, whatever IS prohibited, it is at the expense of one group of people for the
j
benefit o~ an.othe.r. Thusr the laws that prohibit the import or export of a CO~O~lty mevltably face a bUilt-in resistance. Some part of the population WIll ~lways want to either possess or to distribute the prohibited goods. At times, the state finds itseli in the position of having its own in-
j
terests served by violating precisely the same laws passed to prohibit the export or Import of the goods it has defined as illegal.
j
NARconcs AND THE VIETNAM WAR
j
Sometime around the eighth century, Turkish traders discovered a market for opium in Southeast Asia (Chambliss, 1977; McCoy, 1973). Portu~uese traders several centuries later found a thriving business in OPI~ trafficking conducted by small ships sailing between trading
j
ports ill the area. One of the prizes of Portuguese piracy was the opium that was taken from local traders and exchanged for tea, spices, and potter)~ Several centuries Iater~ when the French colonized Indochina the traffic in opium was a thriving business, The French joined the dru;
j
traffickers and licensed opium dens throughout Indochina. With th~
profits from those licenses, the French supported 50% of the cost of their ~..,1.., .... ;~1 ...... ,-.. "........ rnont
(!\./frrnv 1Q7,q· 77'-
j j
536
37. William J. Chambliss
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
When the Communists began threatening French rule in Indochina, the French government used the opium profits to finance the war. It also used cooperation with the hill tribes who controlled opium production as a means of ensuring the allegiance of the hill tribes in the war against the Communists (McCoy, 1973). The French were defeated in Vietnam and withdrew, only to be replaced by the United States. The United States inherited the dependence on opium profits and the cooperation of the hill tribes, who in turn depended on being allowed to continue growing and shipping opium. The ClA went a step further than the French and provided the opiumgrowing feudal lords in the mountains of Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand with transportation for their opium via Air America, the CIA airline in Vietnam. Air America regularly transported bundles of opium from airstrips in Laos, Cambodia, and Burma to Saigon and Hong Kong (Chambliss, 1977: 56). An American stationed at Long Cheng, the secret ClA military base in northern Laos during the war, observed: . .. 50 long as the Mea leadership could keep their wards in the boondocks fighting and dying in the name of, for these unfortunates anyway, some nebulous cause ... the Mea leadership [was paid off] in the fann of a carte-blanch to exploit US-supplied airplanes and communication gear to the end of greatly streamlining the opium operations .... (Chambliss, 1977: 56).
This report was confirmed by Laotian Army General Guane Rattikone, who told me in an interview in 1974 that he was the principal overseer of the shipment of opium out of the Golden Triangle via Air America. U.S. law did not permit the ClA or any of its agents to engage in the smuggling of opium. After France withdrew from Vietnam and left the protection of democracy to the United States, the French intelligence service that preceded the CIA in managing the opium smuggling in Asia continued to support part of its clandestine operations through drug trafficking (Kruger, 1980). Although those operations are shrouded in secrecy, the evidence is very strong that the French intelligence agencies helped to organize the movement of opium through the Middle East (especially Morocco) after their revenue from opium from Southeast Asia was cut off. In 1969 Micluel Hand, a former Green Beret and one of the CIA agents stationed at Long Cheng when Air America was shipping opium, moved to Australia, ostensibly as a private citizen. On arriving in Australia, Hand entered into a business partnership with an Australian national, Frank Nugan. In 1976 they established the Nugan Hand Bank in .c,,,nnpv (('nmmnnwealth of New South Wales, 1982a, 1982b). The Nugan
537
Hand Bank began as a storefront operation with minimal capital investment, but almost immediately it boasted deposits of over $25 million. The rapid growth of the bank resulted from large deposits of secret funds made by narcotics and arms smugglers and large deposits from the ClA (Nihill, 1982). In addition to the records from the bani( that suggest the ClA was using the bank as a conduit for its funds, the bank's connection to the ClAand other U.S. intelligence agencies is evidenced by the people who formed the directors and principal officers of the bank, including the following:
•
Admiral Earl F. Yates, president of the Nugan Hand Bank was, during the Vietnam War, chief of staff for strategic planning of US. forces in Asia and the Pacific.
•
General Edwin F. Black, president of Nugan Hand's Hawaii branch, was commander of U.s. troops in Thailand during the Vietnam War and, after the war, assistant army chief of staff for the Pacific .
• General Erie Cocke, Jr., head of the Nugan Hand Washington, D.e., office.
•
George Farris, worked in the Nugan Hand Hong Kong and Washington, D.e. offices. Farris was a military mtelligence specialist who worked in a special forces training base in the Pacific.
•
Bernie Houghton, Nugan Hand's representative in Saudi Arabia. Houghton was also a U.S. naval intelligence undercover agent.
•
Thomas Clines, director of training in the CIA's clandestine service, was a London operative for Nugan Hand who helped in the takeover of a London-based bank and was stationed at Long Cheng with Michael Hand and Theodore S. Shacldey during the Vietnam War.
•
Dale Holmgreen, former flight service manager in Vietnam for Civil Air Transport, which became Air America. He was on the board of directors of Nugan Hand and ran the bank's Taiwan office.
•
Walter McDonald, an economist and former deputy director of CIA for economic research, was a specialist in petroleum. He became a consultant to Nugan Hand and served as head of its Annapolis, Maryland, branch.
•
General Roy Manor, who ran the Nugan Hand Philippine office, was a Vietnam veteran who helped coordinate the aborted attempt to rescue the Iranian hostages, chief of staff for the U.S.
538
37. WilliamJ. Chambliss
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Pacific command, and U1e U.s. government's liaison officer to Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos. On the board of directors of the parent company formed by Michael Hand that preceded the Nugan Hand Bank were Grant Walters, Robe~t Peterson, David M. Houton, and Spencer Smith, all of whom listed theu: address as cl 0 Air America, Army Post Office, San Francisco, California. Also working through the Nugan Hand Bank was Edwin F. Wilson, a CIA agent involved in smuggling arms to the Middle East and later sentenced to prison by a U.s. court for sIDugglmg illegal arms to Libya. Edwin Wilson's associate in :Mideast arms shipments was Theodore Shackley, head of the Miami, Florida, CIA stationI In 1973, when Williarn Colby was made director of Central Intelhgence, Shackley replaced him as head of covert operations for the Far East; on his retirement from the CIA William Colby became Nugan Hand's lawyer. In the late 19705 the banle experienced financial difficulties, which led to the death of Frank Nugan. He was found dead of a shotgtm blast in his Mercedes Benz on a remote road outside Sydney. The official explanation was suicide, but some investigators speculated that he might have been murdered. In any event, Nugan's death created a major banking scandal and culminated in a government investigation. The u:vestigation revealed that millions of dollars were unaccounted for m the bank's records and that the bank was serving as a money-laundering operation for narcotics smugglers and as a conduit through which the CIA was financing gun smuggling and other illegal operations throughout the world. These operations included illegally smuggling arms to South Africa and the Middle East. There was also evidence that the CIA used the Nugan Hand Banlc to pay for political campaigns that slandered politicians, including Australia's Prime :tv1inister Witham (KWltny, 1977). ivlichael Hand tried desperately to cover up the operations of the bank. Hundreds of documents were destroyed before investigators could get into the bank. Despite Band's efforts, the scandal mushroomed and eventually Hand was forced to flee Australia. He managed this, while under indictment for a rash of felonies, with the aid of a CIA official who flew to Australia with a false passport and accompanied him out of the country. Band's father, who lives in New York, denies knowing anything about his son's whereabouts. Thus, the evidence uncovered by the government investigation in Australia linked high-level CIA officials to a bank in Sydney that was responsible for financing and laundering money for a significant part of ,,- - - ----..;-,-, h-",f+;,.,lrino- nrio-inr1nnl! in Southeast Asia (Commonwealth
539
smuggling and illegal involvement in the democratic processes of a friendly nation. Other investigations reveal that the events in Australia were but part of a worldwide involvement in narcotics and arms smuggling by the CIA and French intelligence (Hougan, 1978; Kruger, 1980; Owen, 1983). ARMS SMUGGLING
One of the most important forms of state-organized crime today is arms smuggling. To a significant extent, U.S. involvement in narcotics smuggling after the Vietnam War can be understood as a means of funding the purchase of military weapons for nations and insurgent groups that could not be funded legally through congressional allocations or for which US. law prohibited support (NARMIC, 1984). In violation of U.s. law, members of the National Security Council (NSq, the Department of Defense, and the CIA carried out a plan to sell millions of dollars worth of arms to Iran and use profits from those sales to support the Contras in Nicaragua (Senate Hearings, 1986). The Boland amendment, effective in 1985, prohibited any US. official from directly or indirectly assisting the Contras. To circumvent the law, a group of intelligence and military officials established a "secret team" of US. operatives, including Lt. Colonel Oliver North, 111eodore Shackley, Thomas Clines, and Maj. General Richard Secord, among others (testimony before US. Senate, 1986). Shackley and Clines, as noted, were CIA agents in Long Cheng; along with Michael Hand they ran the secret war in Laos, which was financed in part from profits from opium smuggling. Shackley and Clines had also been involved in the 1961 invasion of Cuba and were instrumental in hiring organized-Crime figures in an attempt to assassinate Fidel Castro. Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii claims that this "secret government within our government" waging war in l1lird World countries was part of the Reagan doctrine (the Guardian, July 29,1987). Whether President Reagan or then Vice President Bush were aware of the operations is yet to be established. What cannot be doubted in the face of overvvhelming evidence in testimony before the Senate and from court documents is that this group of officials of the state oversaw and coordinated the distribution and sale of weapons to Iran and to the Contras in Nicaragua. These acts were in dired violation of the illegal Arms Export Control Act, which made the sale of arms to Iran unlawful, and the Boland amendment, which made it a crimInal act to supply the Contras with arms or funds. The weapons that were sold to Iran were obtained by the CIA
540
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
the transfer of weapons from Army stocks to the CIA without the
37. William J. Chambliss
541
Other testimony linking the CIA and U.S. military officials to complicity in drug trafficking includes the testimony of John Stockwell, a former high-ranking CIA official, who claims that drug smuggling and
knowledge of Congress four times in 1986. The arms were then transferred to middlemen, such as Iranian arms dealer Yaacov Nimrodi, exiled Iranian arms dealer Manucher Ghorbanifar, and Saudi Arabian businessman Adman Khashoggi. Weapons were also flown directly to the Contras, and funds from the sale of weapons were diverted to support Contra warfare. There is also considerable evidence that this "secret team," along with other military and CIA officials, cooperated with narcotics smuggling in Latin America in order to fund the Contras in Nicaragua.
the CIA were essential components in the private campaign far the Contras. Corroboration for these assertions comes also from George Morales, one of the largest drug traffickers in South America, who testified that he was approached by the CIA in 1984 to fly weapons into Nicaragua. Morales claims that the CIA opened up an airstrip in Costa Rica and gave the pilots information on how to avoid radar traps. According to Morales, he flew 20 shipments of weapons into Costa Rica in 1984 and
In 1986, the Reagan administration admitted that Adolfo Chamorra's Contra group, which was supported by the CIA, was helping a
cocaine into the United States. Morales alone channeled $250,000 quar-
Colombian drug trafficker transport drugs into the United States. Chamorro was arrested in April 1986 for his involvement (Potter and
pilot for Morales, Gary Betzner, substantiated Morales's claims and ad-
1985. In return, the CIA helped him to smuggle thousands of kilos of terly to Contra leader Adolfo Chamorra from his trafficking activity. A
Bullington, 1987: 54). Testimony in several trials of major drug traffick-
mitted flying 4,000 pounds of arms into Costa Rica and 500 kilos of co-
ers in the past 5 years has revealed innumerable instances in which drugs were flown from Central America into the United States with the cooperation of military and CIA personnel. These reports have also been confirmed by military personnel and private citizens who testified that they saw drugs being loaded on planes in Central America and unloaded at military bases in the United States. Pilots who flew planes with arms to the Contras report returning with planes carrying drugs. At the same time that the United States was illegally supplying the Nicaraguan Contras with arms purchased, at least in part, with profits from the sale of illegal drugs, the administration launched a campaign
caine to Lakeland, Florida, on his return trips. From 1985 to 1987, the
against the Sandanistas for their alleged involvement in drug trafficking. Twice during his weekly radio shows in 1986, President Reagan accused the Sandanistas of smuggling drugs. Barry Seal, an informant and pilot for the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) was ordered by members of the CIA and DEA to photograph the Sandanistas loading a plane. During a televised speech in March 1986, Reagan showed the picture that Seal took and said that it showed Sandanista officials loading a
plane with drugs for shipment to the United States. After the photo was displayed, Congress appropriated $100 million in aid for the Contras. Seal later admitted to reporters that the photograph he took was a plane being loaded with crates that did not contain drugs. He also told re-
porters that he was aware of the drug smuggling activities of the Contra network and a Colombian cocaine syndicate. For his candor, Seal was murdered in February 1987. Shortly after his murder, the DEA issued a
"low key clarification" regarding the validity of the photograph, admitting that there was no evidence that the plane was being loaded with drugs.
CIA arranged 50 to 100 flights usIng U.S. airports that did not undergo inspection. The destination of the flights by Morales and Betzner was a hidden airstrip on the ranch of Jolm Hull. Hull, an admitted CIA agent, was a primary player in Oliver North's plan to aid the Cantras. Hull's activities were closely monitored by Robert Owen, a key player in the Contra Supply network. Owen established the Institute for Democracy, Education, and Assistance, which raised money to buy arms for the Contras
and which, in October 1985, was asked by Congress to distribute $50,000 in "humanitarian aid" to the Contras. Owen worked for Oliver North in coordinating illegal aid to the Contras and setting up the airstrip on the
ranch of John Hull. According to an article in the Nation, Oliver North's network of operatives and mercenaries had been linked to the largest drug cartel in
South America since 1983. The DEA estimates the Colombian Jorge Ochoa Vasquez, the "kingpin" of the Medellin drug empire, is responsible for supplying 70% to 80% of the cocaine that enters the United
States every year. Ochoa was taken into custody by Spanish police in October 1984 when a verbal order was sent by the U.S. Embassy in Madrid for his arrest. The embassy specified that Officer Cos-Gayon, who had undergone training with the DEA, should make the arrest. Other members of the Madrid Judicial Police were connected to the DEAand Narth's arms smuggling netvvork Ochoa's lawyers informed him that the United States would alter his extradition if he agreed to implicate the Sandanista government in drug trafficking. Ochoa refused and spent 20 months in jail before returning to Columbia. The Spanish
rUUGC':; ana
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courts ruled that the United States was tryillg to use Ochoa to discredit Nicaragua and released him. (The Nation, September 5,1987.) There are other links between the US. government and the Medellin cartel. Jose Blandon, General Noriega's fonner chief advisor, claims that DEA operations have protected the drug empire in the past and that the DEA paid Noriega $4.7 million for his silence. Blandon also testified in Senate committee hearings that Panama's bases were used as training camps for the Contras in exchange for "economic" support from the United States. Finally, Blandon contends that the CIA gave Panamanian leaders intelligence documents about D.S. senators and aides; the CIA denies these charges. (The Christian Science MOl1itOJ; February 11, 1988: 3.)
Other evidence of the interrelationship among drug trafficking, the CIA, the NSC, and aid to the Contras includes the following:
•
In January 1983, two Contra leaders in Costa Rica persuaded the Justice Department to return over $36,000 in drug profits to drug dealers Julio Zavala and CarIos Cabezas for aid to the Contras
o
(Potter and Bullington, 1987: 22). Michael Palm er, a drug dealer in Miami, testified that the State Department's Nicaraguan humanitarian assistance office contracted with his company, Vortex Sales and Leasing, to take humanitar-
ian aid to the Contras. PaImer claims that he smuggled $40 million in marijuana to the United States between 1977 and 1985 (The Guardian, March 20, 1988: 3). •
During House and Senate hearings in 1986, it was revealed that a
major DEA investigation of the Medellin drug cartel of Colombia, which was expected to culminate in the arrest of several leaders of the carte], was compromised when someone in the White House leaked the story of the investigation to the Washington Times (a
conservative newspaper in Washington, D.C.), which published the story on July 17; 1984. According to DEAAdmlnistrator John Lawn, the leak_ destroyed what was "probably one of the most sig-
nificant operations in DEAhistory" (Sharkey, 1988: 24). •
When Honduran General Jose Buseo, who was described by the Justice Department as an "mternational terrorist," was indicted for conspiring to murder the president of Honduras in a plot fi-
nanced by profits from cocaine smuggling, Oliver North and offi-
On first blush, it seems odd that goverrunent agencies and officials would engage in such wholesale disregard of the law. As a first step in building an explanation for these and other forms of state-organized
crime, let us try to understand why officials of the CIA, the NSC, and the Department of Defense would be willing to commit criminal acts in pursuit of other goals.
WHY? Why would government officials from the NSC, the Defense Department, the State Department, and the CIA become involved in smuggling anns and narcotics, money laundering, assassinations, and other criminal activities? The answer lies in the structural contradictions that inhere in nation-states (Chambliss, 1980). As Weber, Marx, and Gramsci pointed out, no state can survive without establishing legitimacy. The law is a fundamental cornerstone in creating legitimacy and an illusion (at least) of social order. It claims universal principles that demand some behaviors and prohibit others. The protection of property and personal security are obligations assumed by states everywhere both as a means of legitimizing the state's franchise on violence and as a means of protecting commercial inter-
ests (Chambliss and Seidman, 1982). The threat posed by smuggling to both personal security and property interests makes laws prohibiting smuggling essential. Under some circumstances, however, such laws contradict other interests of the state. This contradiction prepares the ground for state-organized crime as a solution to the conflicts and dilemmas posed by the simultaneous existence of contradictory "legitimate" goals. The military-intelligence establishment in the United States is resolutely committed to fighting the spread of "communism" throughout the world. This mission is not new but has prevailed since the 1800s. Congress and the presidency are not consistent in their support for the money and policies thought by the frontline warriors to be necessary to accomplish their lofty goals. As a result, programs under way are
sometimes undermined by a lack of funding and even by laws that prohibit their continuation (such as the passage of laws prohibiting sup-
was not protected "he will break his longstanding silence about
port for the Contras). Officials of government agencies adversely affected by political changes are thus placed squarely in a dilemma: If they comply with the legalllmitations on their activities they sacrifice their mission. The dilemma is heightened by the fact that they can anticipate future policy changes that will reinstate their resources and their
the Nic(araguanJ resistance and other sensitive operations"
freedom. When that time comes, however, programs adversely affected
(Sharkey, 1988: 27).
will be difficult if not Impossible to recreate.
cials from the Department of Defense and the CIA pressured the Justice Department to be lenient with General Buseo. In a memo disclosed by the Iran-Contra committee, North stated that if Buseo
544
37. WtlliamJ. Chambliss
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
A number of events that occurred between 1960 and 1980 left the military and the CIA with badly tarnished images. Those events and political changes underscored their vulnerability. 11,e CIA lost c~nS1d erable political clout with elected officials when Its planned .mvaslOn of Cuba (the infamous Bay of Pigs invasion) was a complete d15~ster. Perhaps as never before in its history, the United States showed Itself vu~ nerable to the resistance of a small nation. The CIA was blamed for thlS fiasco even though it was President Kennedy' 5 decision to go ahead -with the plans that he inherited from the previous a~nistration. add to the agency's problems, the complicity betvveen It and to Invade Chile and overthrow the Aliende government was yet another scar (see below), as was the involvement of the CIA in narcotics smuggling in Vietnam. These and other political realities led to a serious breach betw~en Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, and Carter and the CIA. Durmg President Nixon's tenure in the "White House, one of the CrA's top men, lames Angleton, referred to Nixon's national se,:u~ty ~dvisor, Her:ry Kissinaer (who became secretary of state) as obJectIvely, a SOvIet Agent,7 (Hougan, 1984: 75). Another top agent of the CIA, lames McCord (later ln1plicated in the Watergate b1Uglary) wrote a secret letter to his superior, General Paul Gaynor, in January 1973 ID which he saId:
m
:0
When the hundreds of dedicated fine men and women of the CIA no longer write intelligence summaries and reports .with ~tegrity, ",?thout fear of political recrimination-when their fme Duector (Richard Helms] is being summarily discharged in order to make wayJ?r a politician who will write or rewrite intelligence the way .the politio~ want them written, instead of the way truth and best ]udg~ent dICtates, our nation is in the deepest of trouble and freedom Itself was never so imperiled. Nazi Germany rose and fell under exactly tlle same philosophy of governmental operation. (Hougan, 1984: 26-27)
McCord (1974: 60) spoke for many of the top military and intelligence officers in the United States when he wrote in his autobiography: "1 believed that the whole future of the nation was at stake." These views show the depth of feeling toward the dangers of political "interfere~ce" with what is generally accepted in the military-intelligence establIShment as their mission (Goulden, 1984). When jinuny Carter was elected president, he appointed Admiral Stansfield Turner as director of Centrallntelligence. At the outset, Turner made it clear that he and the president did not share the agency's view that they were conducting their mission properly (Goulden, 1984; Turner, 1985). Turner insisted on centralizing power in the director's office and on overseeing clandestine and covert operations. He met with • -~-~;. ,.,nn<::irlPT::Ihlf> nnoosition from within
545
the agency, he reduced the size of the covert operation section from 1,200 to 400 agents. Agency people still refer to this as the "Halloween massacre." . Old hands at the CIA do not think their work is dispensable. They believe zealously, protectively, and one is tempted to say, with religious fervor, that the work they are doing is essential for the salvation of humankind. With threats from both Republican and Democratic adrninistr~ti~ns, the agency so.ught alternative sources of revenue to carry out its ffils~lOn. TI:e alternative was already in place with the connections to the mternational narcotics traffic, arms smuggling, the existence of secret corporati~ns inc?rporated in foreign countries (such as Panama), and the est.ablished links to banks for the laundering of money for covert operations.
STATE.ORGANIZED ASSASSINATIONS AND MURDER As~ass~ation plots .~d political murders are usually associated in people s ~ds With nulitary dictatorships and European monarchies. The practice of assassination, however, is not limited to unique historical events ~ut has become a tool of international politics that involves modern nation-states of many different types. In the 1960s a French intelligence agency hired Christian David to assassmate the Moroccan leader Ben Barka (Hougan, 1978: 204--207). ~hrlStian David was one of those international "spooks" YVith connections to the DEA, the CIA, and international arms smugglers, such as Robert Vesco. In 1953 the CIA organized and supervised a coup d'etat in Iran that overthrew the democratically elected government of Mohammed Mossadegh, who had become unpopular with the United States when he nationalize~ foreign-owned oil c~mpanies. The CIA's coup replaced Mossadegh Wlth Reza Shah PahlevI, who denationalized the oil companies and with CIA guidance established one of the most vicious secret intelligence organizations in the world: SAVAK. In the years to follow, the shah and CIA-trained agents of SAVAK murdered thousands of Iranian citizens. They arrested almost 1,500 people monthly, m?st of w~om were subjected to inhuman torture and punishments WIthout trIal. Not only were SAVAK agents trained by the CIA, but there IS eVIdence that they were instructed in techniques of torture (Hersh, 1979: 13). In 1970 the CIA repeated the practice of overthrowing democrati~ally elected governments that were not completely favorable to U.S. mvestments. When Salvador Aliende was elected president of Chile,
546
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
the erA organized a coup that overthrew Allende, during which he,was
murdered, along with the head of the military, General Rene Schnelder. Following Allende's overthrow, the CIA trained a~ents for the C~ilean secret service (DINA). DINA set up a team of assassffiS who could trav-
el anywhere in the world ... to carry out sanctions including assassina-
tions" (Oinges and Landau, 1980: 239). One of the ~5sassinatio~ carried out by DINA was the murder of Orlando Letel!!er, AUende s ambassador to the United States and his former minister of defense. Letellier
was killed when a car bomb blew up his car on Embassy Row in Wash-
ington, D.e. (Dinges and Landau, 1982). Other bloody coups know to have been planned, organized, and executed by U .S. agents include coups in Guatemala, Nicaragua, the Dominican Republic, and Vietnam. American involvement in those coups was never legally authorized. TIle .m~ders, assassination~, and terrorist acts that accompany coups are cnrmnal acts by law, both ID the United States and in the country in which they take place. More recent examples of murder and assassination for wl~ich ~ov emment officials are responsible include the death of 80 people m Beuut, Lebanon, when a car bomb exploded on May 8, 1985. The bomb was set by a Lebanese counterterrorist unit working with the CIA. Senator Daniel Moynihan has said that when he was vice president of the Senate Intelligence Committee, President Reagan ordered the. CIA to form a small antiterrorist effort in the rvlideast. Two sources said that the CIA was working with the group that planted the bomb to kill the Shiite leader Hussein Fadallah (the New York Times, May 13, 1985). A host of terrorist plans and activities connected with the attempt to overthrow the Nicaraguan government, including several murders and assassinations, were exposed in an affidavit rued by free-lance reporters Tony Avirgan and Martha Honey. They began investigam: g Contra activities after Avirgan was injured in an attempt on the life of Contra leader Eden Pastora. In 1986, Honey and Avirgan filed a complaint with the U.5. District Court in Miami charging John Hull, Robert Owen, Theodore Shackley, Thomas Clines, Chi Chi Quintero, Maj. General Richard Secord, and others working for the ClAin Central America with criminal conspiracy and the smuggling of cocaine to aid the Nicaraguan rebels. A criminal conspiracy in which the CIA admits participating is the publication of a manual, Psychological Operation in Guerrilla V'Iar(al'e, which was distributed to the people of Nicaragua. The manual descnbes how the people should proceed to commit murder, sabotage, vandalism, and violent acts in order to undermine the government. Encourage or instigating such crimes is not only a violation of U.S.law, it was
37. William). Chambliss
547
also prohibited by Reagan's executive order of 1981, which forbade any U.s. participation in foreign assassmanons. The CIA is not alone in hatching criminal conspiracies. The DEA organized a "Special Operations Group," which was responsible for working out plans to assassinate political and business leaders in foreign countries who were involved in drug trafficking. The head of this group was former CIA agent, Lou Conein (also known a5 IIBlack Luigi"). George Crile wrote in the Washington Post (June 13, 1976): When you get dovm to it, Conein was organizing an assassination program. He was frustrated by the big-time operators who were just too insulated to get to ... Meetings were held to decide whom to target and what method of assassination to employ.
erile's findings were also supported by the investigative joumalistJim Hougan (1978: 132). It is a crime to conspire to commit murder. The official record, including testimony by participants in three conspiracies before the U.s. Congress and in court, make it abundantly clear that the crime of conspiring to commit murder is not infrequent in the intelligence agencies of the United States and other countries. It is also a crime to cover up criminal acts, but there are innumerable examples of instances in which the CIA and the FBI conspired to interfere with the criminal prosecution of drug dealers, murderers, and assassins. In the death of Letellier, mentioned earlier, the FBI and the CIA refused to cooperate with the prosecution of the DINA agents who murdered Letellier (Dinges and Landau, 1980: 208--209). Those agencies were also involved in the cover-up of the criminal activities of a Cuban exile, Ricardo (Monkey) Morales. While an employee of the FBI and the CIA, Morales planted a bomb on an Air Cubana flight from Venezuela, which killed 73 people. The Miami police confirmed Morales's claim that he was acting under orders from the CIA (Lernoux, 1984: 188). In fact, Morales, who was arrested for overseeing the shipment of 10 tons of marijuana, admitting to being a CIA contract agent who conducted bombings, murders, and assassinations. He was himself killed in a bar after he made public his work with the CIA and FBI. Colonel Muammar Qaddafi, like Fidel Castro, has been the target of a number of assassination attempts and conspiracies by the V.S. government. One plot, the Washington Post reported, included an effort to "lure fQaddafi] into some foreign adventure of terrorist exploit that would give a growing number of Qaddafi opponents in the Libyan military a chance to seize power, or such a foreign adventure might give one of Qaddafi's neighbors, such as Algeria or Egypt, a justification for
larger picture I had to extend my research to the United States, and, eventually. to international connections betvveen organized criminal activities and political and economic forces. This quest led me to research in Sweden (Block and Chambliss, 1981), Nigeria (Chambliss, 1975b), Thailand (Chambliss, 1977), and of course, the Americas. My methods were adapted to meet the demands of the various situations I encountered. Interviews with people at all levels of criminal, political, and law enforcement agencies provided the primary data base, but they were supplemented always with data from official records, government reports, congressional hearings, newspaper accounts (when they could be checked for accuracy), archives, and special reports. While continuing to research organized crime, I began a historical study of piracy and smuggling. In the process of analyzing and beginning to write on these subjects, I came to realize that I was, in essence, studying the same thing in different time periods: Some of the piracy of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was sociologically the same as some of the organized criminal relations of today-both are examples of state-organized crime. At the root of the inquiry is the question of the relationship among criminality, social structure, and political economy (Petras, 1977; Schwendinger and Schwendinger, 1975; Tilly, 1985). In what follows, I (1) describe the characteristics of state-organized crime that bind acts that are unconnected by time and space but are connected sociologically, (2) suggest a theoretical framework for understanding those relationships, and (3) give specific examples of state-organized crime.
STATE·ORGANIZED CRIME DEFINED TIle most important type of criminality organized by the state consists of acts defined by law as criminal and committed by state officials in the pursuit of their job as representatives of the state. Examples include a state's complicity in piracy, smuggling, assassinations, criminal conspiracies, acting as an accessory before or after the fact, and violating laws that limit their activities, In the latter category would be included the use of illegal methods of spying on citizens, diverting funds in ways prohibited by law (e.g., illegal campaign contributions, selling arms to countries prohibited by law, and supporting terrorist activities). State-organized crime does not include criminal acts that benefit only individual officeholders, such as the acceptance of bribes or the illegal use of violence by the police against individuals, unless such acts violate existing criminal law and are official policy. For example, the current policies of torture and random violence by the police in South
Africa are incorporated under the category of state-organized crime because, apparently, those practices are both state policy and in violation of existing South African law. On the other hand, the excessive use of violence by the police in urban ghettoes is not state-organized crime for it lacks the necessary institutionalized policy of the state.
PIRACY In the history of criminality, the state-supported piracy that occurred betvveen the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries is an outstanding example of state-organized crime (Andrews, 1959, 1971). When Christopher Columbus came to the Americas in search of wealth and spices in 1492, he sailed under the flag of SpaIn although he himself was from Genoa. Vasco da Gama followed Columbus 6 years later, sailing under the Portuguese flag. Behtveen Spain and Portugal, a vast new world was conquered and quickly colonized. The wealth of silver and gold was beyond their wildest dreams. A large, poorly armed native American population made the creation of a slave labor force for mining and transporting the precious metals an easy task for the better armed Spanish and Portuguese setUers willing to sacrifice human life for wealth. Buttressed by the unflagging belief that they were not only enriching their motherland and themselves but also converting the heathens to Christianity, Spanish and Portuguese colonists seized the opportunity to denude the newly found lands of their wealth and their people (Lane-PooIe, 1890). Portugal, as a result of Vasco da Gama's voyages, also established trade routes with India that gave it a franchise on spices and tea. Portuguese kings thus became the "royal grocers of Europe" (Howes, 1615; Collins, 1955). In Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, nationstates were embroiled in intense competition for control of territory and resources. Then, as now, military power was the basis for expansion and the means by which nation-states protected their borders. Military might, in turn, depended on labor and mineral resources, especially gold and silver. The wealthier nations could afford to invest in more powerful military weapons, especially larger and faster ships, and to hire mercenaries for the army and navy. Explorations cost money as well. When Spain and Portugal laid claim to the Americas, they also refused other nations the right to trade with their colonies (Mainwaring, 1616). Almost immediately, conflict developed between Spain and Portugal, but the pope intervened and drew a line dividing the New World into Spanish and Portuguese sectors, thereby ameliorating the conflict. But the British, French, and Dutch were not included in the pope's
11JUlll..::> dHU '-.-1<1:;':;' UL ULt:! .:JLUUY UI Ut:!VlclIH.:e
responcling to Qaddafi militarily" (the Wasltillgtoll Post, April 14, 1986). 111e CIA recommended "stimulating" Qaddafi's fall "by encouraging disaffected elements in the Libyan army who could be spurred to assassination attempts" (the Guardian, November 20,1985: 6). Opposition to government policies can be a very risky business, as the ecology group Greenpeace discovered when it opposed French nuclear testing in the Pacific. In the fall of 1985 the French government planned a series of atomic tests in the South Pacific. Greenpeace sent its flagship to New Zealand with instructions to sail into the area where the atomic testing was scheduled to occur. Before the ship could arrive at the scene, however, the French secret service located the ship in the harbor and blew it up. The blast from the bomb killed one of the crew.
OTHER STATE·ORGANIZED CRIMES Every agency of govel;TlIllent is restricted by law in certain fundamental ways. Yet s~:tural pressures exist that can push agencies to go beyond their .le?,al rn:ruts, TIle C~, for example, is not permitted to engage in domestic mtelligence. DespIte this, the CIA has opened and photographed the mail ~f over 1 million private citizens (Rockefeller Report, 1975: 101-115), illegally entered people's homes, and conducted domestic surveillance through electronic devices (Parenti, 1983: 170-171). Agencies of the government also carmot legally conduct experiments o~ human subjects that violate civil rights or endanger the lives of the subJects. But the CIA conducted experiments on unknowing subjects by hiring prostitutes to administer drugs to their clients. CIAtrained medical doctors and psychologists observed the effects of the drugs through a two-way mirror in expensive apartments furnished to the prostitutes by the CIA. At least one of tl1e victims of these experi· ments dIed and others suffered considerable trauma (Anderson and WhiHen, 1976; Crewdson and 11lOmas, 1977; Jacobs 1977a, 1977b). The most flagrant violation of civil rights by federal agencies is the FBI's counter~telligenc~ program, known as COINTELPRO. This progra~ was desl~ed to dISrupt, harass, and discredit groups that the FBI decld.~d wer,e ~ ~ome, way "un-American." Such groups included the ~me~lcan CIVil LIbertIes Union, antiwar movements, civil rights organ:-zations, and a host of other legally constituted political groups whose VIews opposed some of the policies of the United States (Church Corn· mittee, 1976). With tl1e exposure of COINTELPRO, the group was clis. b.a~ded. ~ere 15 eVlde~ce, however, that the illegal surveillance ofU.S, CItizens dId not stop WIth the abolition of COINTELPRO but continues today (Klein, 1988).
DISCUSSION Elsewhere I have suggested a general theory to account for variations in types and frequency of crime (Chambliss, 1988a). The starting point for that theory is the assumption that in every era political, economic, and social relations contain certain inherent contradictions, which produce conflicts and dilemmas that people struggle to resolve. TIle study of stateorganized crime brings into sharp relief the necessity of understanding the role of contradictions in the formation and implementation of law. Contradictions inherent in the formation of states create conditions under which there will be a tendency for state officials to violate the crirninallaw. State officials inherit from the past laws that were not of their making and that were the result of earlier efforts to resolve conflicts wrought by structural contradictions (Chambliss, 1980; Chambliss and Seidrnan, 1982), The inherited laws nonetheless represent the foundation on which the legitimacy of the state's authority depends. These laws also provide a basis for attempts by the state to control the acts of others and to justify the use of violence to that end, For England in the sixteenth century, passing laws to legitimize piracy for English pirates while condemning as criminal the piracy of others against England would have been an untenable solution, just as it would undermine the legitimacy of America's ideological and political position to pass legislation allowing for terrorist acts on the part of U.s. officials while condemning and punishing the terrorism of others, Law is a two-edged sword; it creates one set of conflicts while it attempts to resolve another, The passage of a particular law or set of laws may resolve conflicts and enhance state control, but it also limits the legal activities of the state, State officials are thus often caught behveen conflicting demands as they find themselves constrained by laws that interfere with other goals demanded of them by their roles or their perception of what is in the interests of the state. There is a contradiction, then, between the legal prescriptions and the agreed goals of state agencies. Not everyone caught in this dilemma will opt for violating the law, but some will. Those who do are the perpetrators, but not the cause, of the persistence of state-organized crime. When Spain and Portugal began exploiting the labor and natural resources of the Americas and Asia, other European nations were quick to realize the implications for their own power and sovereignty. France~ England, and Holland were powerful nations, but not powerful enough at the time to challenge Spain and Portugal clirectly. The dilemma for those nations was how to share in the wealth and curtail the power of Spain and Portugal without going to war. A resolution to the dilemma was forged through cooperation with pirates. Cooperating with pirates,
YOlltICS and
37. William j. Chambliss
Class in the Study of Deviance
however, required violating their own laws as well as the laws of other countries. In this way, the states organized crimlnality for their own ends without undermining their claim to legitimacy or their ability to condemn and punish piracy committed against them. It should be noted that some monarchs in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Games I England, for example) refused to cooperate with pirates no matte how profitable it would have been for the Crown. So, too, not all CIA or NSC personnel organize criminal activities in pursuit of state goals. The impetus for the crirrrinality of European states that engaged in piracy was the need to accumulate capital in the early stages of capitalist formation. State-organized criminality did not disappear, however, with the emergence of capitalism as the dominant economic system of the world. Rather, contemporary state-organized crime also has its roots in the ongoing need for capital accumulation of modem nation-states, whether the states be socialist capitalist, or mixed economies. Sociologically, then, the most important characteristics of state-organized crime in the modern world are at one with characteristics of state-organized crime in the early stages of capitalist development. Today. states organize smuggling, assassinations, covert operations, and conspiracies to criminally assault citizens, political activists, and politicalleaders perceived to be a threat. These acts are as criminal in the laws of the nations perpetrating them as were the acts of piracy in which European nations were complicitous. At the most general level, the contradictions that are the force behind state-organized crime today are the same as those that were the impetus for piracy in sixteenth-century Europe. The accumulation of capital determines a nation's power, wealth, and survival today, as it did 300 years ago. The state must provide a climate and a set of international relations that facilitate this accumulation if it is to succeed. State officials will be judged in accordance with their ability to create these conditions. But contradictory ideologies and demands are the very essence of state formations. The laws of every nation-state inhibit officials from maximizing conditions conducive to capital accumulation at the same time that they facilitate the process. Laws prohibiting assassination and arms smuggling enable a government to control such acts when they are inimical to their interests. When such acts serve the interests of the state, however, then there are pressures that lead some officials to behave crinUnaHy. Speaking of the relationship among the NSC, the CIA, and drug trafficking, Senator John Kerry, chairman of the Senate Foreign Rel~tions Subcommittee on Terrorism, Narcotics and International Operations, pinpointed the dilemma when he said "stopping drug trafficking
551
to the United States has been a secondary U.S. foreign policy objective. It has been sacrificed repeatedly for other political goals" (Senat~ Hearings, 1986). He might have added that engaging in drug trafficking and arms smuggling has been a price government agencies have been willing to pay "for other political goals." . These contradictions create conflicts betw-een nation-states as well as internally among the branches of government. Today, we see nations such as Turkey, Bolivia, Colombia, Peru, Panama, and the Bahamas encouraging the export of illegal drugs while condemning them publicly. At the same time, other government agencies cooperate in the export and import of illegal arms and drugs to finance subversive and terrorist activities. Governments plot and carry out assassinations and illegal acts against their own citizens in order to "preserve democracy" while supporting the most undemocratic institutions imaginable. In the process, the contradictions that create the conflicts and dilemmas remain untouched and the process goes on indefinitely. A U.5. State Deparbnent report (1985) illustrates, perhaps, the logical outcome of the institutionalization of state-organized crime in the modern world. In this report the State Department offered to stop criminal acts against the Nicaraguan gover~ent in return for concessior:s from Nicaragua. l11fee hundred years earlier England, France, and Spam signed a treaty by which each agreed to suppress its piracy against the others in return for certain guarantees of economic and political sovereignty.
CONCLUSION My concern here is to point out the importance of studying state-organized crime. Although I have suggested some theoretical notions that appear to me to be promising, the more important goal is to raise the issue for further study. The theoretical and empirical problems raised by advocating the study of state-organized crime are, h?weve~, formida~l:. Data on contemporary examples of state-orgaruzed cnme are dIffrcult to obtain. The data I have been able to gather depend on sources that must be used cautiously. Government hearings, court trials, interviews, newspaper accounts, and historical documents are replete with problems of validity and rellability. In my view they are no more so than conventional research methods in the social sciences, but that does not alter the fact that there is room for error in interpreting the findings. It will require considerable imagination and diligence for others to pursue research on this topic and add to the empirical base from which theoretical propositions can be tested and elaborated.
552
Politics and Gass in the Study of Deviance
We need to explore different political, economic, and social systems in varying historical periods to discover why some forms of social organization are more likely to create state-organized crimes than others. We need to explore the possibility that some types of state agencies are more prone to engaging in criminality than others. It seems likely, for example, that state agencies whose activities can be hidden from scrutiny are more likely to engage in criminal acts than those whose record is public. This principle may also apply to whole nation-states: the more open the society, the less likely it is that state-organized crime will become institutionalized. There are also important parallels between state-organized criminality and the criminality of police and law enforcement agencies generally. Local police departments that find it more useful to cooperate with criminal syndicates than to combat them are responding to their own particular contradictions, conflicts, and dilemmas (Chambliss, 1988b). An exploration of the theoretical implications of these similarities could yield some important findings. The issue of state-organized crime raises again the question of how crime should be defined to be scientifically useful. For the purposes of this analysis, I have accepted the conventional criminological definition of crime as acts that are in violation of the criminal law. This definition has obvious limitations (see Schwendinger and Schwendinger, 1975), and the study of state-organized crime may facilitate the development of a more useful definition by underlying the interrelationship between crime and the legal process. At the very least, the study of state-organized crime serves as a reminder that crime is a political phenomenon and must be analyzed accordingly.
REFERENCES Anderson, Jack, and Lee Whitten 1976 The erA's "sex squad." The Washington Post, June 22:B13. Andrews, KR 1959
English Privateering Voyages to the West Indies 1598-1695. Ser. 11./ vol.111. London: HakluytSociety. 1971 The Last Voyage of Drake and Hawkins. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Block, AIm A., and William J. Chambliss 1981 Organizing Crime. New York: Elsevier. British Museum 1977 Sir Francis Drake. London: British Museum Publications.
37. William j. Chambliss
553
Chambliss, William). 1968
The tolerance policy: An invitation to organized crime. Seattle Octo-
1971
Vice, corruption, bureaucracy and power. Wisconsin Law Review 4:1,
ber: 23-31. 150-1,173. 1975a On the paucity of original research on organized crime: A footnote to Galliher and Cain. The American Sociologist 10:36-39. 1975b Toward a political economy of crime. Theory and Society 2:149-170. 1977 Markets, profits, labor and smack Contemporary Crises 1:53-57. 1980 On lawmaking. British Journal of Law and Society 6:149-172. 1988a Exploring Criminology: New York: Macmillian. 1988b On the Take: From Petty Crooks to Presidents. Revised ed. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, Chambliss, William J., and Robert B. Seidman 1982 Law, Order and Power. Rev. ed. Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley. Church Committee 1976 Intelligence Activities and the Rights of Americans. Washington, D.e.: Goverrunent Printing Office. Commonwealth of New South Wales 1982a New South Wales Joint Task Force on Drug Trafficking. Federal Parliament Report. Sydney: Government of New South Wales. 1982b Preliminary Report of the Royal Cormnission to Investigate the Nugan Hand Bank Failure. Federal Parliament Report. Sydney: Government of New South Wales. Corbett, Julian S. 1898.. Drake and the Tudor Anny. 2 vols. London: Longmans, Green. 189Bb Paper Relating to the Navy during the Spanish War, 1585-1587. Vol. 11, London: Navy Records Society. Crewdson, John M., and Jo Thomas 1977 Abuses in testing of drugs by CIA to be panel focus. The New York Tunes, September 20. de La Croix, Robert 1962 John Paul Janes. London: Frederik Muller. Dinges, John/ and Saul Landau 1980 Assassination on Embassy Row. New York: McGraw-Hill. 1982 The CIA's link to Chile's plot. The Nation, June 12:712-713. Exquemling, AD. 1670 De Americanaenshe Zee-Roovers. MS. 301. London, British Museum. Goulden, Joseph C. 1984 Death Merchant The Brutal True Story of Edwin P. Wilson. New York: Simon and Schuster.
Hersh, Seymour 1979 Ex-analyst says CIA rejected warning on Shah. The New York TImes, January 7:AI0. Cited in Piers Beirne and James Messersclunidt, Criminology. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, forthcoming. Hougan,Jim 1978 Spooks: The Haunting of Amercia-The Private Use of Secret Agents. New York William Morrow. 1984 Secret Agenda: Watergate, Deep Throat, and the CIA. New York Random House. Jacabs, John 1977a The diaries of a CIA operative. The Washington Post, September 5:1. 1977b Turner cites 149 drug-test projects. The Washington Post, August 4:1. Klein, Lloyd 1988 Big Brother Is Still Watching You. Paper presented at the annual meetings of the American Society of Criminology, Chicago, Novem-_ ber 12. Kruger, Henrik 1980 The Great Heroin Coup. Boston: South End Press. Kwitny, Jonathan 1987 The Crimes of Patriots. New York: W.W. Norton. Lane-PooIe 1890 The Barbary Corsairs. London: T. Fisher Unwin. LeGolif, Louis 1680 The Manuscripts of Louis LeGolif alias Borgnefesse. London, British Museum. Lemoux, Penny 1984 The Miami connection. The Nation, February 18:186-198. MacIntyre,OonaId 1975 The Privateers. London: Paul Elek. Mainwaring, Henry 1616 Of the Beginnings, Practices, and Suppression of Pirates. No publisher acknowledged. McCord, James W" Jr. 1974 A Piece of Tape. Rockville, MD.: Washington Media Services.
Owen,John 1983 Sleight of Hand, The $25 Million Nugan Hand Bank Scandal. Sydney: Calporteur Press. Parenti, Michael 1983 Democracy for the Few. New York: St. Martin's Petras, James 1977 Chile: Crime, class consciousness and the bourgeoisie. Crime and Social Justice 7:14-22 Potter, Gary W., and Bruce Bullington 1987 Drug Trafficking and the Contras: A Case Study of State-Organized Crime. Paper presented at annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, Montreal. Ritchie, Robert C.
1986 Captain Kidd and the War Against the Pirates. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press. Rockefeller Report 1975 Report lo the President by the Commission on CIA Activities within the United States. Washington, D.e.: Government Printing Office. Schwendinger, Herman, and Julia Schwendinger 1975 Defenders of order or guardians of human rights. Issue in Criminology 7,72--81-Senate Hearings 1986 Senate Select Committee on Assassinations, Alleged Assassination ~\()\:s 1nva\vID.'b llCl'te,-~ \.eade:rs.1n'te.nro. Re:PQ'tt o~ the Senate Select c.."'i'{ro:ffi\.\ee \0 S'ru.Q'j C:.Q'Je."[(\ID.eu\a\. ~e:tau-Cl'N; 'N\'ffi."%s!~it'ec..\ \0 m\e\-
ligence Activities. 94th Cong., 1st sess., November '20. "Wasnmgton, o.e.: Government Printing Office. Senior, CM. 1976 A Nation of Pirates: English Piracy in its Heyday. London: David and Charles Newton Abbot Sharkey, Jacqueline 1988 The Contra-drug trade eH. Common Cause Magazine, September-October: 23-33
McCoy, Alfred W. 1973 The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia. New York: Harper & Row.
Ttlly, Charles 1985 War making and state making as organized crime. In. P. Evans, D. Rueshemeyer, and T. Skocpol (eds.), Bringing the State Back rn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
NARMIC 1984 Military Exports to South Africa: A Research Report on the Arms Embargo. Philadelphia: American Friends Service Committee.
Turner, Stansfield 1985 Secrecy and Democracy: The CIA in Transition. New York: Houghton Mifflin.
Nihill, Grant 1982 Bank links to spies, drugs. The AdVertiser, November 10:1.
556
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
US Department of State 1985 Revolution Beyond Our Border: Information on Central America. State Department Report N 132. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Department of State.
Verrill, A. Hyatt 1924 Smugglers and Smuggling. New York: Ouffield.
AUTHOR'S NOTE The historical documents used for the research on piracy were provided by the British Museum Library, the Frankling D. Roosevelt Library in New York, Columbia University Library, and the Naval Archives. For the more recent happenings and machinations of the CIA, DEA, and other government agencies, the primary data bases are confidential interviews with people involved in the events described, or people closely associated with tile events, and information obtained through Freedom of Information requests. Attribution to people who generously gave tileir time and in some cases took risks for the sake of providing a better understanding of the world we live in is, of course, impossible. Where possible the information forthcoming from the interviews has been supplemented by reference to published government documents, newspaper reports, and verifiable research.
CHAPTER
VIII New Directions in Deviance Theory
The thematic structure of this final chapter differs somewhat from that of the preceding chapters. Rather than focusing on a single explanation of deviance with a distinct theoretical frame of reference, these readings represent what we consider to be new developments in the sociology of deviance. We are not suggesting that the earlier approaches are no longer valid, nor do we believe that the current state of theorizing about deviance has resulted in disorganized eclecticism." While no particular theory has dominated the field over the past ten years or so, it is clear that exciting new developments, questions, and methodologies are being employed in the study of deviance. Our objective is to introduce some of these recent trends, as well as to examine the relationships that exist between the more established theories and the new directions in the literature about deviance. During the latter part of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, biological and psychological explanations predominated in most thought about the cause of crime. These perspectives proposed that the deviant (e.g., the criminal) differs from the nondeviant in terms of significant anatomical, physiological, or personality traits or characteristics. Social scientists in general, and criminologists in particular, have been quick to point out the shortcomings of biological explanations of deviance. For the most part, criticisms of these approaches have focused on, among other things, the inability to account for variations in rates of crime (in terms of such variables as geography, age, sex, ethnicity, race, and social class), the threat to liberal ideology, and the possibility of abuses resulting from the politicization of these approaches. Concern with the possible political implications of biological and psychological explanations for deviance is most clearly directed at the trend to medicalize deviance. Some sociologists suggest that by conIJ
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This research owes a debt to 50 many people it is impossible to acknowledge them all. TIle many informants and officials who cooperated with various parts of the research and the librarians who helped uncover essential historical documents must come first. I am also deeply indebted to Raquel Kennedy, Pemille, Baadsager, Richard Appelbaum, Marjorie Zatz, Alan Block, Jim Petras, Ray !vlichalowski, Stan Cohen, Hi Schwendinger, Tony PlaH, and Martha Huggins for their insights and help at many stages in the development of the research. I am also indebted to a confidential donor who helped support the research effort in Thailand during 1974.
NOTE 1. It was Shackley who, along with Rafael "Chi Chi" QUintero, a CubanAmerican, forged the plot to assassinate Fidel Castro by using orgaruzedcrime figures Santa Trafficante, Jr., John Roselli, and Sam Giancana.
558
New Directions in Deviance Theory
centrating too much attention on biological and psychological traits and characteristics and too little on social causes, deviance and the deviant person have been defined in medical terms, and they have been brought increasingly under the control of medical practitioners in psychiatry and public health. In Reading 38, Peter Contad and Joseph W. Schneider note that during the twentieth century various forms of problematic behavior that previously had been conceptualized as sin, moral problems, or crimes have been redefined in terms of illness. 1Ilis implies not only a shift in explanations of the cause of deviance to an illness analogy (e.g., behavior is the result of illness, not choice, so that deviants are not responsible for their actions), but also a change in public policy to the view that deviance is a disorder that can be "treated" in ways similar to medical illness. In this vein, a number of behavioral categories, such as alcoholism, childhood hyperactivity, transsexualism, child abuse and family violence, homosexuality, mental disorders, and learning disabilities have been medicalized. 1 In reconceptualizing deviance as illness, this therapeutic view has given rise to a new control system comprising a vast array of professions and professionals (e.g., physicians, psychologists, counselors, and specialists in child abuse). Conrad and Schneider define medical social control of deviant behavior as "some variants of medical intervention that seeks to eliminate, modify, isolate, or regulate behavior socially defined as deviant, with medical means and in the name of health." They assert that this new form of social control is replete with problems, not the least of which is that when society does not hold people accountable for their actions, it also does not deal with deviant behavior as a moral problem. If in the perspective of medical social control, public debate about the social causes and moral issues involved in the designation and control of deviant behavior is cut off, deviance may become whatever medical professionals consider it to be; its control or prevention is then their responsibility. Conrad and Sclmeider maintain that once deviant behavior has been medicalized, individuals' responsibility for tl1eir actions is assumed to be beyond their control. In this view, deviants are unable to make moral choices between right and wrong, so their behavior lacks motivation. Solutions for deviance therefore concentrate on the individual. The issues of personal responsibility and societal solutions for deviance advanced by critics of the medicalization perspective have a long history in sociological explanations of deviance and crime; they have been of paramount concern to sociologists and criminologists since at least the mideighteenth century. These issues have their origin in classical theory, in which deviance and crime are viewed as a rational COurse of action. Modem variations of this view are taken up in U1e next three selections,
New Directions in Deviance Theory
559
which focus on the routine activities of people and the choices they make in deciding whether to deviate or conform. One variation of classical theory is the "routine activity model discussed by Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson in Reading 39. Like the rational choice perspective, which is discussed in the next selection, this view posits that individuals who commit crimes are motivated to do so. Further, the motivation to commit a crime, specifically "direct-contact predatory violations" (violent crime against the person or direct-contact property crime), is mostly related to the "certainty, celerity and value of rewards to be gained from illegal predatory acts." In Cahen and Felson's routine activity approach, crime and crime rate trends are seen as a function or reflection of people's daily activities. Rates of crime and their distribution thus are related not only to the motivation of offenders but also to the availability of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians who can provide protection against victimization. Accordingly, predatory crime is more likely to occur when motivated offenders find themselves in close proximity to suitable targets that are not well protected (e.g., women jogging in sparsely populated public parks or easily transportable goods in homes unguarded for significant periods). Cohen and Felson suggest that the rise in crime rates betvveen the early 19605 and early 1990s may be related more to these factors than to those that are characteristic of more conventional theories of criminality; which emphasize lack of social control, disorganization, blockages of opportunity structures, and other structural characteristics of American society. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (Reading 40) articulate a "rational choice" perspective on crime in which it is assumed that "offenders seek to benefit themselves by their criminal behavior; that this involves the making of decisions and choices, however rudimentary on occasions these choices might be; and that these processes, constrained as they are by time, the offender's cognitive abilities, and by the availability of relevant information, exhibit limited rather than normative rationality." In the rational choice perspective, therefore, certain types of offenders choose to commit specific crimes for specific reasons, after considering the range of the proposed crime's choice-structuring properties. Cornish and Clarke suggest that decisions about whether or not to violate the law are based on the potential offender's calculation of alternatives, opportunities, and potential payoffs (offender specificity), and of the characteristics of the situation, skills needed, and the relation of the offender's own needs and motivates to the crime (offense specificity). The rational choice perspective is concerned not only with the decision-making process involved in committing a specific crime
560
New Directions in Deviance TI1eory
such as robbery, murder, or rape, however. It also has to do with factors associated with switching from one type of offense to another, involvement in crime as a career, the decision to halt criminal behavior, the ineffectiveness of rehabilitative policies, and the development of crime prevention strategies that focus on the situational character of specific offenses. Another variation of the rational choice theme is found in Reading 4l. According to some theorists, one of the problems with mainstream sociological theories of deviance is that they often fail to account for psychological factors in people's behavior. This point is elaborated more fully by james Q. Wilson and Richard Herrnstein in Reading 41, an excerpt from their book, Crime and HI/man Nature. They propose an eclectic or integrative theory that focuses on the effect of biosocial factors (e.g., l.Q.), psychological traits (e.g., introversion), and structural variables (e.g., anomie) and how they interact with one another leading to a rational choice by an individual to either deviate or conform. Of course this does not imply that people, unconsciously deliberate about what to do." Rather, "behavior is determined by its consequences." According to Wilson and Herrnstein, lithe larger the ratio of the net rewards of crime, to the net rewards of noncrime, the greater the tendency to commit the crime." The choice then is based on the rewarding effects of a decision to engage in deviance rather than conforming behavior and the reinforcing effect of the reward. Biological, psychological, and sociological factors and conditions combined with the perceived consequences (e.g., rewards) of an individual's actions thus influence the decision to deviate or conform. A somewhat different view of deviance is presented by John Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and john Simpson (Reading 42). They propose a powercontrol theory of delinquency based on a neoMarixian view of social class relations and its effect on gender and involvement in delinquency. The authors call for expanding research to include" ... more common as well as mare serious forms of delinquency" in order to better explain how parents' employment influences family relations and, ultimately, the relationship between gender, risk taking, and delinquency. In this study they found that in more egalitarian households, based on both parents having more control and authority at work, children are less lli<ely to be subjected to stringent controls characteristic of more traditional patriarchal households. This is particularly true for young women in egalitarian households where they are not as likely to be subject to traditional sex-role socialization patterns. Greater freedom in child-rearing practices is associated with greater risk talUng, and, ultimately, these women are more likely to engage in common forms of delinquency, and their rate of involvement also more nearly equal the rate of delinquency l/ •••
New Directions in Deviance Theory
561
involvement for boys in these households. Thus, class pOSition influences family social relations and the type of social control to which children are subjected. Those parents with more authority at work provide their children with more autonomy, and these children, females as well as males, are more likely to engage in behavior that may be viewed as delinquent. Sally S. Simpson's article, "Feminist Theory, Crime, and justice" (Reading 43), differs from the other perspectives we have presented in this book in terms of its main focus. Her discussion of feminist theory points out that "It would be a mistake, ... , to think of feminism as a single theory." Rather, feminism is a world view that includes a number of different perspectives that attempt to explain gender inequality and its relationship to the behavior and responses to .the behavior of both females and males. Her paper includes not only an overview of these different perspectives but also criticism of the major theories of deviance and crime, including some of the contemporary explanations such as Hagan, Gillis, and Simpson's piece (Reading 42) on power-control theory. nus criticism is echoed by Chesney-Lind who notes that powercontrol theory, for all its good intentions, is basically a liberal feminist explanation of girls' delinquency that argues" ... that mothers' work force parlicipation (particularly high status occupations) leads to increases in daughters' delinquency since these girls find themselves in more 'egalitarian families'."2 In discussing the inadequacies of various academic explanations of female crime, Simpson points out that most theories and research have focused primarily on males, thus failing to examine the full range of juvenile and adult rnisbehavior in this society. The problem with these approaches is that they " .. .form the core of 'general' theories of crime/deviance without taking female experience, as crime participant or victim into account." In this sense, they fail to consider whether explanations of deviance that focus on males can be extended to explain female deviance. These theoretical models and resulting research have generally failed to investigate how gender socialization and inequality affect the lives of females (and males) as perpetrators and victims of crime, as well as how the entire criminal justice system (the police, courts, and correctional institutions) is gendered" and how these agencies of social control reinforce the prevailing view of a woman's place in SOciety. Simpson calls for additional research that focuses on gender and how a capitalist and patriarchal system influence's woman's deviance. While acknowledging that feminist criminology has come a long way in the past twenty years, future analysis and explanations of female crime should target areas in the field of criminology that have not been fully 11
~~'-
•• '-'H<;'-'~U11:'UI
LJt;'Vlance lrteory
38. Peler Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
investigated. This research-on women of calor, the effects of deterrence, white collar, corporate, and the involvement (or, lack of it) of women in organized crime-is needed for a fuller understanding of a woman's b~havior a~d should be informed by feminist perspectives. In the final selectIOn (Reading 44), John Braithwaite attempts to integrate ideas from many sociological theories and develop a general theo:r that f?cuses on shaming, interdependency, and positive reactions to rrusbehavlOr as a means of controlling deviance. In the selection from Cri1J1e, S/U/:l1e, and Reintegration, Braithwaite goes beyond labeling theoasserllOn that stigmatization produces a deviant self-concept lead~ng to r?le engulfment and career deviance. In this provocative and ~~egratIve theory, we see that the shame of labeling is most effective if It IS followed by reintegration efforts to help keep deviants within the larger community rath~r than permanently isolating them by treating them as outcasts. Sharrung can be beneficial when it is based on a commitment among members of a community to reintegrate the deviant after he or she has been punished. To do othenvise is to create conditions sufficient for continued deviance. Reintegrative shaming also is most effective in "communitarian" cultures and among people who are well integrated ("interdependent") with others.
:r'S
NOTES 1.
Herb Haines, "Primum Non Nocere: Chemical Execution and the Limits of Medical Social ControI," Sacinl Problems, 36, 5 (December 1989):442--454. 2. Meda Chesney-Lind, "Girls' Crime and Woman's Place: Toward a Feminist Model of Female Delinquency," Crime & DelillqlleIlCt/, 35, 1
(1989)5-29.
.
563
38 Medicine as an Institution of Social Cont1"O!: Consequences for Society
PETER CONRAD and ]OSEPH W. SCHNEIDER In our society we want to believe in medicine, as we want to believe ~ religion and our cOlmtry; it wards of collective fears an~ ~educes p~blic anxieties (see Edelman, 1977). In significant ways medlcme, espe:lally psychiatry, has replaced religion as the most powerful extralegal InStitution of sodal control. Physicians have been endowed WIth some of the charisma of shamans. In the 20th century the medical model of deviance has ascended with the glitter of a rising star, expanding medicine's social control functions .... [We] focus directly on medicine as an agent of social control. First, we illustrate the range and varieties of medical social control. Next, we analyze the consequences of the medicalization of deviance and social control. Finally, we examine some significant social policy questions pertaining to medicine and medicalization in American society.
TYPES OF MEDICAL SOCIAL CONTROL Medicine was first conceptualized as an agent of social control by Talcott Parsons (1951) in his seminal essay on the "sick role." ... Eli~t Freidson (1970) and Irving Zola (1972) have elucidated the jurisdictional mandate the medical profession has over anything that can be labeled an illness, regardless of its ability to deal with it effectively. The boundaries of medicine are elastic and increasingly expansive (Ehrenrelc~ & Ehrenreich, 1975), and some analysts have expressed conce~ at the ~ creasing medicalization of life (Illich, 1976). Although .medIcal SOCIal control has been conceptualized in several ways, mc1udmg ~rofess~~n al control of colleagues (Freidson, 1975) and control of the rrucropolitics Reprinted from Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider, "Medicine as an Ins.tit~tio~ of Social Control: Consequences for Society," pp. 241-260 in Deviallce and Medlcalr::.ntlOl1: . From Badness to Sickness (Philadelphia, Temple Univ. Press, 1993). © 1992 by Temple Umversity, Reprinted by permission of Temple University Press. Adapted, amended, and extended discussion from P. Conrad, "Types of Social Control " Socil!l Health & Illness, 1979, 1.1-12, by permission of Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd.; and' P. Conrad, "The Discovery of Hyperkinesis," Social Pmblellls, 1975, 23, 12-21. Portions also taken from "Medicine" by P. Conrad and J. Schneider, in Social Control for the 19805: A Handbook for Order ill a Democratic Sociehj, edited by Joseph S. Roucek, 1978, pp. 346-358, used with the permission of the publisher, Greenwood Press, Inc., ~es~ort, Conn., and our forthcoming article in Contemporary Crises, reprinted by penmsslOn of Elsevier Scientific Publishing Co., Amsterdam.
564
New Directions in Deviance Theory
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
of physician-patient interaction (Waitzkin & Stoeckle 1976), the focus here is narrower. Our concern .. .is with the medical control of deviant behavior, an aspect of the medicalization of deviance (Conrad, 1975; Pitts, 1968). Thus by medical social control we mean the ways in which medicine functions (wittingly or unwittingly) to secure adherence to social norms-specifically, by using medical means to minimize, eliminate, or normalize deviant behavior. This section illustrates and catalogues the broad range of medical controls of deviance and in so doing conceptualizes three major "ideal types" of medical social controL On the most abstract level medical social control is the acceptance of a medical perspective as the dominant definition of certain phenomena. 'When medical perspectives of problems and their solutions become dominant, they diminish competing definitions. This is particularly hue of problems related to bodily functiOning and in areas where medical teclmology can demonstrate effectiveness (e.g., immunization, contraception, antibacterial drugs) and is increasingly the case for behavioral and social problems (Mechanic, 1973). This underlies the construction of medical norms (e.g., the definition of what is healthy) and the "enforcement" of both medical and social norms. Medical social control also includes medical advice, counsel, and information that are part of the general stock of knowledge: for example, a well-balanced ~iet is important, cigarette smoking causes cancer, being overweight mcreases health risks, exercising regularly is healthY" teeth should be brushed regularly. Such directives, even when unheeded, serve as road signs for desirable behavior. At a more concrete level, medical social :ontrol is enacted through professional medical intervention, qua medIcal treatment (although it may include some types of self-treatment such as self-medication or medically oriented self-help' groups). This intervention aims at returning sick individuals to compliance with health norms and to their conventional social roles, adjusting them to new (e.g., impaired) roles, or, short of these, making individuals more comfortable with their condition (see Freidson, 1970; Parsons, 1951). Medical social control of deviant behavior is usually a variant of medical intervention that seeks to eliminate, modify, isolate, or regulate behavior socially defined as deviant, with medical means and in the name of health. Traditionally, psychiatry and public health have served as the clearest examples of medical control. Psychiatry'S social control functions with mental illness, especially in terms of institutionalization, have been described clearly (e.g., Miller, 1976; Szasz, 1970). Recently it has been argued that psychotherapy, because it reinforces dominant values and adjusts people to their life situations, is an agent of social control and a supporter of the status quo (HalIeck, 1971; Hurvitz, 1973). Public health's f
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mandate, the control and elimination of conditions and diseases that are deemed a threat to the health of the community, is more diffuse. It operates as a control agent by setting and enforcing certain "health" standards in the home, workplace, and community (e.g., food, water, sanitation) and by identifying, preventing, treating, and if necessary, isolating persons with communicable diseases (Rosen, 1972). A clear example of the latter is the detection of venereal disease. Indeed, public health has exerted considerable coercive power in attempting to prevent the spread of infectious disease. There are a number of types of medical control of deviance. TIle most common forms of medical social control include medicalizing deviant behavior-that is, defining the behavior as an illness or symptom of an illness or underlying disease-and subsequent direct medical intervention. This medical social control takes three general forms: medical technology, medical collaboration, and medical ideology. MEDICAL TECHNOLOGY
The growth of specialized medicine and the concomitant development of medical teclmology has produced an annamentarium of medical controls. Psychotechnologies, which include various forms of medical and behavioral technologies (Chorover, 1973), are the most common means of medical control of deviance. Since the emergence of phenothiazine medications in the early 19505 for the treatment and control of mental disorder, there has been a virtual explosion in the development and use of psychoactive medications to control behavioral deviance: tranquilizers such as chlordiazepoxide (Librium) and diazepam (Valium) for anxiety, nervousness, and general malaise; stimulant medications for hyperactive children; amphetamines for overeating and obesity; disulfiram (Antabuse) for alcoholism; methadone for heroin, and many others. I These pharmaceutical discoveries, aggressively promoted by a highly profitable and powerful drug industry (Goddard, 1973), often become the treatment of choice for deviant behavior. They are easily administered under professional medical control, quite potent in their effects (i.e., controlling, modifying, and even eliminating behavior), and are generally less expensive than other medical treatments and controls (e.g., hospitalization, altering environments, long-term psychotherapy). Psychosurgery, surgical procedures meant to correct certain "brain dysfunctions" presumed to cause deviant behavior, was developed in the early 1930s as prefrontal lobotomy, and has been used as a treatment for mental illness. But psychosurgery fell into disrepute in the early 1950s because the "side effects" (general passivit}r, difficulty with abstract thinking) were deemed too undesirable, and many patients
__ .
remained institutionalized in spite of such treatments. Furthermore, new psychoactive medications were becoming available to control the mentally ill. By the middle 1950s, however, approximately 40,000 to 50,000 such operations were performed in the United States (Freeman, 1959). 1n the late 1960s a new and technologically more sophisticated variant of psychosurgery (including laser technology and brain implants) emerged and was heralded by some as a treatment for uncontrollable violent outbursts (Delgado, 1969; Mark & Ervin, 1970). AltllOUgh psychosurgery for violence has been criticized from both within as well as outside the medical profession (Chorover, 1974), and relatively few such operations have been performed, in 1976 a blue-ribbon national commission reporting to the Deparbnent of Health, Education and Welfare endorsed the use of psychosurgery as having "potential merit" and judged its risks "not excessive." This may encourage an increased use of this form of medical control.2 Behavior modification, a psycho technology based on B.E Skinner's and other behaviorists' learning theories, has been adopted by some medical professionals as a treabnent modality. A variety of types and variations of behavi or modification exist (e.g., token economies, tier systems, positive reinforcement schedules, aversive conditioning). While they are not medical technologies per se, they have been used by physiCIans for the treatment of mental illness, mental retardation, homosexuali~, ,?olenc~, hyperactive children, autism, phobias, alcoholism, drug addiction, eating problems, and other disorders. An irony of the medical use of behavior modification is that behaviorism explicitly denies the medical model (that behavior is a symptom of illness) and adopts an envIronmental, albeit still individual, solution to the problem. This has not, however, hindered its adoption by medical professionals. Human genetics is one of the most exciting and rapidly expanding areas of medical knowledge. Genetic screening and genetic counseIing are becoming more corrunonplace. Genetic causes are proposed for such a variety of human problems as alcoholism, hyperactivity, learning disabilities, schizophrenia, manic-depressive psychosis, homosexuality, and mental retardation. At this time, apart from specific genetic disorders ~uch as ph::nylketanuria (P.KU) and certain forms of retardation, genetIC explanations tend to be general theories (i.e., at best positing "predispositions"), with only minimal empirical support, and are not at the level ~t which medical intervention occurs. The most well-publicized geneti~ theory of ~eviant behavior is that an XYY chromosome arrangement IS a determmant factor in "criminal tendencies." Although this XYY research has been criticized severely (e.g., Fox, 1971), the controversy surrounding it may be a harbinger of things to come. Genetic anomalies may be discovered to have a correlation with deviant behav-
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ior and may become a causal explanation for this behavior. Medical control, in the form of genetic counseling (Sorenson, 1974), may discourage parents from having offspring with a high risk (e.g., 25%) of genetic impairment. Clearly the potentials for medical control go far beyond present use; one could imagine the possibility of licensing sele.cted p.arents (with proper genes) to have children, and further marupulatmg gene arrangements to produce or elim1nate certain traits. MEDICAL COLLABORATION
Medicine acts not only as an independent agent of social control (as above), but frequently medical collaboration with other authorities serveS social control functions. Such collaboration includes roles as information provider, gatekeeper, institutional agent, and technician. These interdependent medical control functions highlight the extent to which medicine is interwoven in the fabric of society. Historically, medical personnel have reported information on gunshot w.aunds ~d venereal disease to state authorities. More recently this has mduded reporting "child abuse" to child welfare or law enforcement agencies (FfohL 1977). The medical profession is the official designator of the "sick role." This imbues the physician with authority to define ~articular ~~s of deviance as illness and exempt the patient from certam role obligations. These are general gatekeeping and social control tasks. In ~ome inst~ces the physician functions as a specific gate~eeper for spec~al exemptions from conventional norms; here the exemptions are authonzed because of illness, disease, or disability. A classic example is the so-called inS~ty defense in certain crime cases. Other more commonplace examples mclude competency to stand trial, medical ~e!erment ~r~m ~e draft or a medical discharge from the military; reqwrmg physlcIans notes to legitimize missing an examination o~ ~xcessive abse~ce~ in, school, an~, before abortion was legalized, obtauung hvO psychiatrIsts letters testifying to the therapeutic necessity of th,; abortion. Halleck (1971) has called this "the power of medical excuse. In a slightly diff~rent vem,.but still forms of gatekeeping and medical excuse, are me.dlcal ex~mma tions for disability or workman'S compensation benefits. Medical. reports required for insurance coverage and empl?yrnen.t or, m~dlcal certification of an epileptic as seizure free to obtam a dnver s lIcense are also gatekeeping activities. . . Physicians in total institutions have one of hvo roles. In some mstItutions such as schools for the retarded or mental hospitals, they are usually'the administrative authority; in others, ~uch as in th:: ~t~ or prisons, they are employees of the administration. In total mstitutions,
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medicine's role as an agent of social control (for the instilution) is more apparent. In both the military and prisons, physicians have the power to confer the sick role and to offer medical excuse for deviance (see Daruels, 1969; Waitzkin & Waterman, 1974). For example, discharges and sick call are available medical designations for deviant behavior. Since physicians are both hired and paid by the institution, it is difficult for them to be fully an agent of the patient, engendering built-in role strains. An extreme example is in wartime when the physician's mandate is to return the soldier to combat duty as soon as possible. Under some circumstances physicians act as direct agents of control by prescribing medications to control unruly or disorderly inmates or to help a "neurotic" adjust to the conditions of a total institution. In such cases "captive professionals" (Daniels, 1969) are more likely to become the agent of the institution than the agent of the individual patient (Szasz, 1965; see also Menninger, 1967). Under rather rare circumstances physicians may become "mere technicians," applying the sanctions of another authority who purchase their medical skills. An extreme example would be the behavior of the experimental and death physicians in Nazi Germany. A less heinous but nevertheless ominous example is provided by physicians who perform court-ordered sterilizations (Kittrie, 1971). Perhaps one could imagine sometime in the future, if the death penalty becomes commonplace again, physicians administering drugs as the "humanitarian" and painless executioners.3 MEDICAL IDEOLOGY
Medical ideology is a type of social control that involves defining a behavior or condition as an illness primarily because of the social and ideological benefits accrued by conceptualizing it in medical terms. These effects of medical ideology may benefit the individual, the dominant interests in the society, or both. They exist independently of any organic basis for illness or any available treatment. Howard Waitzkin and Barbara Waterman (1974) call one latent function of medicalization "secondary gain/' arguing that assumption of the sick role can fulfill personality and individual needs (e.g., gaining nurturance or attention or legitimize personal failure (Shuval & Antonovsky, 1973).' One of the most important functions of the disease model of alcoholism and to a lesser extent drug addiction is the secondary gain of removing blame from, and constructing a shield against condemnation of, individuals for their deviant behavior. Alcoholics Anonymous, a nonmedical quasireligious self-help organization, adopted a variant of the medical
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model of alcoholism independent of the medical profession. One suspects the secondary gain serves their purpose well. Disease designations can support dominant social interests and institutions. A poignant example is prominent 19th-century New Orleans physician S. W. Cartwright's antebellum conceptualization of the disease drapetomania, a condition that affected only slaves. Its major symptom was rwming away from their masters (Cartwright, S. W., 1851). Medical conceptions and controls often support dominant social values and morality: the 19th-century Victorian conceptualization of the illness of and addiction to masturbation and the medical treabnents developed to control this disease make chilling reading in the 1970s (Comfort, 1967; Englehardt, 1974). The recent Soviet labeling of political dissidents as mentally ill is another example of the manipulation of illness designations to support dominant political and social institutions (Conrad, 1977). These examples highlight the sociopolitical nature of illness designations in general (Zola, 1975). In sum, medicine as an institution of social control has a number of faces. The three types of medical social control discussed here do not necessarily exist as discrete entities but are found in combination with one another. For example, court-ordered sterilizations or medical prescribing of drugs to unruly nursing home patients combines both technological and collaborative aspects of medical control; legitimating disability status includes both ideological and collaborative aspects of medical control; and treating Soviet dissidents with drugs for their mental illness combines all three aspects of medical social control. It is clear that the enormous expansion of medicine in the past 50 years has increased the number of possible ways in whlch problems could be medicalized beyond those discussed in earlier chapters. In the next section we point out some of the consequences of this medicalization,
SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES OF MEDICALIZING DEVIANCE Jesse Pitts (1968), one of the first sociologists to give attention to the medicalization of deviance, suggests that "medicalization is one of the most effective means of social control and that it is destined to become the main mode of jomlal social control" (p. 391, emphasis in original).' Although his bold prediction is far-reaching (and, in light of recent developments, perhaps a bit premature), his analysis of a decade ago was curiously optimistic and uncritical of the effects and consequences of medicalization. Nonsocioligists, especially psychiatric critic Thomas Szasz (1961, 1963, 1970, 1974) and legal scholar Nicholas Kittrie (1971),
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are much more critical in their evaluations of the ramifications of medicalization. Szasz's critiques are polemical and attack the medical, especially psychiatric, definitions and treatments for deviant behavior. Szasz's analyses, although path breaking, insightful, and suggestive, have not been presented in a particularly systematic form. Both he and Kittrie tend to focus on the effects of medicalization on individual civil liberties and judicial processes rather than on social consequences. Their writings, however, reveal that both aIe aware of sociological consequences. In this section we discuss some of the more significant consequences and ramifications of defining deviant behavior as a medical problem. We must remind the reader that we are examining the Social consequences of medicalizing deviance, which can be analyzed separately from the validity of medical definitions Or diagnoses, the effectiveness of medical regimens, or their individual consequences. These variously "latent" consequences inhere in medicalization itself and occur regardless of how efficacious the particular medical treatment Or social control mechanism. As will be apparent, our socialogical analysis has left us skeptical of the social benefits of medical social controL We separate the consequences into the "brighter" and "darker" sides of medicalization. The "brighter" side will be presented first. BRIGHTER SIDE
The brighter side of medicalization includes the positive or beneficial qualities that are attributed to medicalization. We review briefly the accepted SOcially progressive aspects of medicalizing deviance. They are separated more for clarity of presentation than for any intrinsic separation in consequence. First, medicalization is related to a longtime humanitarian trend in the conception and control of deviance. For example, alcoholism is no longer considered a sin or even a moral weakness; it is now a disease. Alcoholics are no longer arrested in many places for "public drunkenness"; they are now somehow "treated," if only to be dried out for a time. Medical treatment for the alcoholic can be seen as a more humanitarian means of social control. It is not retributive or punitive, but at least ideally, therapeutic. Troy Duster (1970, p. 10) suggests that medical definitions increase tolerance and compassion for human problems and they "have now been reinterpreted in an almost nonmoTal fashion." (We doubt this, but leave the morality issue for a later discussion.) Medicine and humanitarianism historically developed concurrently and, as some have observed, the use of medical language and evidence increases tlle prestige of human proposals and enhances their acceptance (Wootton,
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1959; Zola, 1975). Medical definitions are imbued with the prestige of the medical profession and are considered the "scientific" and humane way of viewing a problem .... This is especially true if an apparently "successful" treatment for controlling the behavior is available, as with hyperkinesis. Second, medicalization allows for the extension of the sick role to those labeled as deviants (see Chapter 2 [of Deviance and Medicalizatiol1J for our discussion of the sick role). Many of the perceived benefits of the medicalization of deviance stern from the assignment of the sick role. Some have suggested that this is the most significant element of adopting the medical model of deviant behavior (Sigler & Osmond, 1974). By defining deviant behavior as an illness or a result of illness, one is absolved of responsibility for one's behavior. It diminishes or removes blame from the individual for deviant actions. Alcoholics are no longer held responsible for their uncontrolled drinking, and perhaps hyperactive children are no longer the classroom's "bad boys" but children with a medical disorder. There is some clear secondary gain here for the individuaL The label "sick" is free of the moral opprobrium and implied culpability of "criminal" or "sinner." The designation of siclmess also may reduce guilt for drinkers and their families and for hyperactive children and their parents. Similarly, it may result in reduced stigma for the deviant. It allows for the development of more acceptable accounts of deviance: a recent film depicted a child witnessing her father's helpless drunken stupor; her mother remarked, "It's okay. Daddy's just sick."6 The sick role allows for the "confidential legitimation" of a certain amount of deviance, so long as the individual fulfills the obligations of the sick role.' As Renee Fox (1977) notes: The fact that the exemptions of sickness have been extended to people with a widening arc of attitudes, experiences and behaviors in American society means primarily that what is regarded as "conditionally legitimated deviance" has increased .... So long as [the deviant] ~oes not abandon himself to illness or eagerly embrace it, but works activelyon his own or with medical professiona~ to improve hi7 condition, he is considered to be responding appropnately, even admirably, to an unfortunate occurrence. Under these conditions, illness is accepted as legitimate deviance. (p. 15)8
TIle deviant, in essence, is medically excused for the deviation. But, as Talcott Parsons (1972) has pointed out, "the conditional legitimation is bought at a price," namely, the recognition that illness itself is an undesirable state, to be recovered from as expeditiously as possible" (p. 108). TIms the medical excuse for deviance is only valid when the patientdeviant accepts the medical perspective of the inherent undesirability of
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his or her sick behavior and submits to a subordinate relationship with an official agent of control (the physician) toward changing it. This, of course, negates any threat the deviant may pose to society's normative structure, for such deviants do not challenge the norm; by accepting deviance as sickness and social control as "treatment," the deviant underscores the validity of the violated norm. Third, the medical model can be viewed as portraying an optimistic outcome for the deviant.' Pitts (1968) notes, "the possibility that a patient may be exploited is somewhat minimized by therapeutic ideology, which creates an optimistic bias concerning the patient's fate" (p. 391).10 The therapeutic ideology, accepted in some form by all branches of medicine, suggests that a problem (e.g., deviant behavior) can be changed or alleviated if only the proper treatment is discovered and administered. Defining deviant behavior as an illness may also mobilize hope in the individual patient that with proper treatment a "cure" is possible (Frank, J., 1974). Clearly this could have beneficial results and even become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Although the medical model is interpreted frequently as optimistic about individual change, under some circumstances it may lend itself to pessimistic interpretations. The attribution of physiological cause coupled with the lack of effective treatment engendered a somatic pessimism in the late 19th-century conception of madness ... Fourth, medicalization lends the prestige of the medical profeSSion to deviance designations and treatments. The medical profession is the most prestigious and dominant profession in American society (Freidson, 1970). As just noted, medical definitions of deviance become imbued with the prestige of the medical profession and are construed to be the "sdentific" way of viewing a problem. The medical mantle of science may serve to deflect definitional challenges. This is especially true if an apparently "successful" treatment for controlling the behavior is available. Medicalization places the problem in the hands of healing physicians. liThe therapeutic yalue of professional dominance, from the patient's point of view, is that it becomes the doctor's problem" (Ehrenreich & Ehrenreich, 1975, p. 156, emphasis in original). Physicians are assumed to be beneficent and honorable. "The medical and paramedical professions," Pitts (1968) contends, "especially in the United States, are probably more immune to corruption than are the judicial and parajudicial professions and relatively immune to political pressure" (p. 391)11 Fifth, medical social control is more flexible and often more efficient than judicial and legal controls. The impact of the flexibility of medicine is most profound on the "deviance of everyday life," since it allows "social pressures on deviance [to] increase without boxing the
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deviant into as rigid a category as 'criminal'" (Pitts, 1968, p. 391)12 Medical controls are adjustable to fit the needs of the individual patient, rather than being a response to the deviant act itself. It may be more efficient (and less expensive) to control opiate addiction with methadone maintenance than with long prison terms or mental hospitalization. The behavior of disruptive hyperactive children, who have been immune to all parental and teacher sanctions, may dramatically improve after treatment with medications. Medical controls circumvent complicated legal and judicial procedures and may be applied more informally. This can have a considerable effect on social control structures. For example, it has been noted that defining alcoholism as a disease would reduce arrest rates in some areas up to 50%. In sum, the social benefits of medicalization include the creation of humanitarian and non-punitive sanctions; the extension of the sick role to some deviants; a reduction of individual responsibility, blame, and possibly stigma for deviance; an optimistic therapeutic ideology; care and treatment rendered by a prestigious medical profession; and the availability of a more flexible and often more efficient means of social control. DARKER SIDE
There is, however, another side to the merucalization of deviant behavior. Altll0ugh it may often seem entirely humanitarian to conceptualize deviance as sickness as opposed to badness, it is not that simple. There is a "darker" side to the medicalization of deviance. In some senses these might be considered as tlle more clearly latent aspects of medicalization. In an earlier work Conrad (1975) elucidated four consequences of medicalizing deviance; building on that work, we expand our analysis to seven. Six are discussed here; the seventh is described separately in the next section.
Dislocation of Responsibility As we have seen, defining behavior as a medical problem removes or profoundiy diminishes responsibility from the individual. Although affixing responsibility is always complex, medicalization produces confusion and ambiguity about who is responsible. Responsibility is separated from social action; it is located in the nether world of biophysiology or psyche. Although this takes the individual officially ".off the hook," its excuse is only a partial one. The individual, the putative deVIant, and the undersirable conduct are still associated. Aside from where such conduct is "seated," the sick deviant is the medium of its expression.
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With the removal of responsibility also comes the lowering of status. A dual-class citizenship is created: those who are deemed respons~ble for their actions and those who are not. The not-completely responsIble sick are placed in a position of dependence on the fully re~pon.sible nonsick (parsons, 1975, p. 108). Kittrie (1971, p. 347) notes ill thIS regard that more than half the American population is no longer subject to the sanctions of criminal law. Such persons, among others become true "second-class citizens."
Assumption of the Moral Neutrality of Medicine Cloaked in the mantle of science, medicine and medical practice are assumed to be objective and value free. But this profoundly mis:epresents reality. The very nature of medical practice involves vah~e, Ju~~ent. To call something a disease is to deem it undesirable. Medlcme IS mfluenced by the moral order of society-witness the ~agnosis and tr~at ment of masturbation as a disease in Victorian tImes-yet medIcal language of disease and treatment is assumed to be morally ne~~al. It is not, and the very technological-scientific vocabulary of mediane that defines disease obfuscates this fact. Defining deviance as disease allows behavior to keep its negative judgment, but medical language veils the political an~ moral n~ture of this decision in the guise of scientific fact. There was httle publIc damor for moral definitions of homosexuality as long as it remained defined an illness but soon after the disease designation was removed, moral crusaders' (e.g., Anita Bryant) launched public campaigns condemning the immorality of homosexuality. One only needs to scratch the surface of medical designations for deviant behavior to find overtly moral judgments. Thus, as 201a (1975) points out, defining a problem as within medical jurisdiction is not morally neutral precisely because. in e~tablishing its relev~ce as a key dimension for action, the moral 15sue .15 pre~ented from bemg squarely faced and occasionally from ev~n be1l1g raISed: By the acceptance of a specific behavior as an undeSIrable state the ISsue becomes not whether to treat an individual problem but how and when. (p. 86)13 Defining deviance as a medical phenomenon involves moral enterprise.
Domination of Expert Control The medical profession is made up of experts; it has a monopoly on anything that can be conceptualized as an illness. Because of the wa~ the medical profession is organized and the mandate it has from SOCIety, decisions related to medical diagnosis and treatment are controlled almost completely by medical professionals.
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Conditions that enter the medical domain are not ipso facto medical problems, whether we speak of alcoholism, hyperactivity, or drug addiction. When a problem is defined as medical, it is removed from the public realm, where there can be discussion by ordinary people, and put on a plane where only medical people can discuss it. As Janice Reynolds (1973) succinctly states, The increasing acceptance, especially among the more educated segof our populace, of technical solutiol15-solutions adminlstered by dlsmterested and morally neutral experts~results in the withdrawal of more and more areas of human experience from the realm of public discussion. For when drunkenness, juvenile delinquency, sub par performance and extreme political beliefs are seen as symptoms of an underlying illness or biological defect the merits and drawbacks of such behavior or beliefs need not be evaluated. {pp. 220-221)1-1
~~ts
The public may have their own conceptions of deviant behavior, but those of the experts are usually dominant. Medical definitions have a high likelihood for dominance and hegemony: they are often taken as the last scientific word. The language of medical experts increases mystification and decreases the accessibility of public debate.
Medical Social Control Defining deviant behavior as a medical problem allows certain things to be done that could not otherwise be considered; for example, the body may be cut open or psychoactive medications given. As we elaborated above, this treatment can be a fann of social control. In regard to drug treatment, Henry Lennard (1971) observes: "Psychoactive drugs, especially those legally prescribed, tend to restrain individuals from behavior and experience that are not complementary with the requirements of the dominant value system" (p. 57). These forms of medical social control presume a prior definition of deviance as a medical problem. Psychosurgery on an individual prone to violent outbursts requires a diagnosis that something is wrong with his brain or nervous system. Similarly, prescribing drugs to restless, overactive, and disruptive schoolchildren requires a diagnosis of hyperkinesis. These forms of social control, what Stephan Chorover (1973) has called "psychotechnology," are powerful and often efficient means of controlling deviance. These relatively new and increasingly popular forms of medical control could not be used without the prior medicalization of deviant behavior. AB is suggested from the discovery of hyperkinesis and to a lesser extent the development of methadone treabnent of opiate addiction, if a mechanism of medical social control seems useful, then the deviant behavior it modifies will be given a medical label or diagnosis. We imply no overt malevolence on the part of the medical profession;
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rather, it is part of a larger process, of which the medical profession is only a part. The larger process might be called the individualization of social problems.
Individualization of Social Problems The medicalization of deviance is part of a larger phenomenon that is prevalent in our society: the individualization of social problems. We tend to look for causes and solutions to complex social problems in the individual rather than in the social system. William Ryan (1971) has identified this process as "blaming the victim": seeing the causes of the problem in individuals (who are usually of low status) rather than as endemic to the society. We seek to change the "victim" rather than the so-
ciety. The medical practice of diagnosing an illness in an individual lends itself to the individualization of social problems. Rather than seeing certain deviant behaviors as symptomatic of social conditions, the medical perspective focuses on the individual, diagnosing and treating the illness itself and generally ignoring the social situation. Hyperkinesis serves as a good example of this. Both the school and parents are concerned with the child's behavior; the child is difficult at home and disruptive in schooL No punishments or rewards seem consistently effective in modifying the behavior, and both parents and school are at their wits' end. A medical evaluation is suggested. The diagnosis of hyperkinetic behavior leads to prescribing stimulant medications. The child's behavior seems to become more socially acceptable, reducing problems in school and home. Treatment is considered a medical success. But there is an alternative perspective. By focusing on the symptoms and defining them as hyperkinesis, we ignore the possibility that the behavior is not an illness but an adaptation to a social situation. It diverts our attention from the family or school and from seriously entertaining the idea that the "problem" could be in the structure of the social system. By giving medications, we are essentially supporting the existing social and political arrangements in that it becomes a "symptom" of an individual disease rather than a possible "comment" on the nature of the present situation. Although the individualization of social problems aligns well with the individualistic ethic of American culture, medical intervention against deviance makes medicine a de facto agent of dominant social and political interests.
Depoliticization of Deviant Behavior Depoliticization of deviant behavior is a result of both the process of medicalization and the individualization of social problems. Probably
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one of the clearest recent examples of such depoliticization occurred when political dissidents in the Soviet Union were declared mentally ill and confined to mental hospitals (Conrad, 1977). This strategy served to neutralize the meaning of political protest and dissent, rendering it (officially, at least) symptomatic of mental illness. The medicalization of deviant behavior depoliticizes deviance in the same manner. By defining the overactive, restless, and disruptive child as hyperkinetic, we ignore the meaning of the behavior in the context of the social system. If we focused our analysis on the school system, we might see the child's behavior as a protest against some aspect of the school or classroom situation, rather than symptomatic of an individual neurological disorder. Similar examples could be drawn of the opiate addic! in the ghetto, the alcoholic in the workplace, and others. Medicalizing deviant behavior precludes us from recognizing it as a possible intentional repudiation of existing political arrangements. There are other related consequences of the medicalization of deviance beyond the six discussed. The medical ideal of early intervention may lead to early labeling and secondary deviance (see Lemert, 1972). The "medical decision rule," which approximates "when in doubt, treat/' is nearly the converse of the legal dictum "innocent until proven guilty" and may unnecessarily enlarge the population of deviants (Scheff, 1963). Certain constitutional safeguards of the judicial system that protect individuals' rights are neutralized or bypassed by medicalization (Kittrie, 1971). Social control in the name of benevolence is at once insidious and difficult to confront. Although these are all significant, we wish to expand on still another consequence of considerable social importance, the exclusion of evil.
EXCLUSION OF EVIL Evil has been excluded from the imagery of modem human problems. We are uncomfortable with notions of evil; we regard them as primitive and nonhumanitarian, as residues from a theological era. IS Medicalization contributes to the exclusion of concepts of evil in our society. Clearly medicalization is not the sole cause of the exclusion of evil- but it shrouds conditions, events, and people and prevents them from being confronted as evil. The roots of the exclusion of evil are in the Enlightenment, the diminution of religious imagery of srn, the rise of determinist theories of human behavior, and the doctrine of cultural relativity. Social scientists as well have excluded the concept of evil from their an-
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alytic discourses (Wolff, 1969; for exceptions, see Becker, 1975, and Lyman, 1978). Although we cannot here presume to identify the forms of evil in modem times, we would like to sensitize the reader to how medical definitions of deviance serve to further exclude evil from our view. It can be argued that regardless of what we construe as evil (e.g., destruction, pain, alienation, exploitation, oppression), there are at least two general types of evil: evil intent and evil consequence. Evil intent is similar to the legal concept mens rea, literally, evil mind." Some evil is intended by a specific line of action. Evil consequence is, on the other hand, the result of action. No intent or motive to do evil is necessary for evil consequence to prevail; on the contra.r-y. it often resembles the platitude "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." In either case medicalization dilutes or obstructs us from seeing evil. Sickness gives us a vocabulary of motive (Mills, 1940) that obliterates evil intent. And although it does not automatically render evil consequences good, the allegation that they were products of a "sick" mind or body relegates them to a status similar to that of "accidents." For example, Hitler orchestrated the greatest mass genocide in modern history, yet some have reduced his motivation for the destruction of the Jews (and others) to a personal pathological condition. To them and to many of us, Hitler was sick. But this portrays the horror of the Holocaust as a product of individual pathology; as Thomas Szasz frequently pOints out, it prevents us from seeing and confronting man's inhumanity to man. Are Son of Sarn, Charles Manson, the assassins of King and the Kennedys, the Richard Nixon of Watergate, Libya's Muammar Kaddafi, or the all-too-common child beater sick? Although many may well be troubled, we argue that there is little to be gained by deploying such a medical vocabulary of motives. 16 It only hinders us from comprehending the human element in the decisions we make, the social structures we create, and the actions we take. HannahArendt (1963), in her exemplary study of the banality of evil, contends that Nazi war criminal Adolph Eichmann, rather than being sick, was "terribly. terrifyingly normal." Susan Santag (1978) has suggested that on a cultural level, we use the metaphor of illness to speak of various kinds of evil. Cancer, in particular, provides such a metaphor: we depict slums and pornography shops as "cancers" in our cities; J. Edgar Hoover's favorite metaphor for communism was "a cancer in our midst"; and Nixon's administration was deemed "cancerous," rotting from within. In our secular culture, where powerful religious connotations of sin and evil have been obscured, cancer (and -for that matter, illness in general) is one of the
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few available images of unmitigated evil and wickedness. As Sontag (1978) observes: But how to be ... [moral] in tile late twentieth century? How, when ... we have a sense of evil but no longer the religious or philosophicallan~ guage to talk intelligently about evil. Trying to comprehend "radical" or "absolute" evil, we search for adequate metaphors. But the modem disease metaphors are all cheap shots ... Only in the most limited sense is any historical event or problem like an illness. It is invariably an encouragement to simplify what is complex ... (p. 85)
11
Thus we suggest that the medicalization of social problems detracts from our capability to see and confront the evils that face our world. In sum, the "darker" side of the medicalization of deviance has profound consequences for the putative or alleged deviant and society. We now turn to some policy implications of medicalization.
MEDICALIZATION OF DEVIANCE AND SOCIAL POLICY "Social policy" may be characterized as an institutionalized definition of a problem and its solutions. There are many routes for developing social policy in a complex society, but, as John McKnight (1977) contends, "There is no greater power than the right to define the question" (p.85). The definition and designation of the problem itself may be the key to the development of social policy. Problem definitions often take on a life of their own; they tend to resist change and become the accepted manner of defining reality (see Caplan & Nelson, 1973). 1n a complex society, social policy is only rarely implemented as a direct and self-conscious master plan, as for example, occurred with the development of community mental health centers ... It is far more common for social policies to evolve from the particular definitions and solutions that emerge from various political processes. Individual policies in diverse parts of society may conflict, impinge on, and modify one another. The overall social policy even may be residual to the political process. The medicalization of deviance never has been a formalized social policy; .. .it has emerged from various combinations of turf battles, court decisions, scientific innovations, political expediences, medical entrepreneurship, and other influences. The medicalization of deviance has become in effect a de facto social policy. In this discussion we explore briefly how some changes and trends in medicine and criminal justice as well as the recent "punitive backlash" may affect the future course of the medicalization of deviance.
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CRIMINAL}USTICE: DECRIMINALIZATION, DECARCERATION, AND THE THERAPEUTIC STATE
0:r
er .the ~ast n:vo d~cades the percent of officially defined deviants institutionalIzed ill pnsons or mental hospitals has decreased. 111ere has been a parallel growth in "community-based" programs for social Control. Although this "decarceration" has been most dramatic with th mentall~ ill, substa~tia~ de~titutio.nalization has occurred in the priso~ populattons and WIth Juverule delmquents and opiate addicts as well ~see. Sc~ll, 1~77). Many deviants who until recently would have been Institutionalized are being "~reated" or maintained in community pro~rams-for example, probahon, work release, and community Correcho~al p.rograms for criminal offenders; counseling, vocationat Or reSIdential program~ as diversion from juvenile court for delinquents; ~nd met~adone mamtenance or therapeutic community programs in heu of prIson for opiate addicts. ~~ en:erging social policy of decarceration has already affected medIcalizatlOn. Assuming that the amount of deviance and number of deviants a society recognizes remains generally constant (see Erikson 1966), a change in policy in one social control agency affects other social control agents. Thus decarceration of institutionalized deviants will lead to the deployment of other forms of social control. Because medical social conn:01 is one of the main types of social control deployed in the commumty, decarceration increases medicalization. Since the Robillsoll Supreme Court decision and the discovery of methadone maintenance ~e .control of opiate addicts has shifted dramatically from the criminal Justice system to the medical system. Control of some criminal offenders may be subtly transferred from the correctional system to the mental health system; one recent study found an increase in the number of males with ~rior police records admitted to psychiatric facilities and suggested this may be an indication of a medicalization of criminal behavior (Melick, Steadrnan, & Cocozza, 1979). There is also Some evidence ~hat probation officers, in their quest for professional status, adopt a medical model in their treatment of offenders (Chalfant, 1977). Although SOme ~bservers have suggested that tlle apparent decarceration of mental patients.f~~m mental hospitals and the rise of community mental health faCIlIties has at least partially demedicalized madness, ... this is an inaccurate interpretation. Moreover, the extent of decarceration has been exaggerated; many of the former or would-be mental patie.nts are located in other institutions, especially nursing homes (Redltch & Kellert, 1978). Here they remain under medical or quas.im~dic~l control. In short, decarceration appears to increase the mf'c:1wahzaHnn of rlf'viancp.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
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Decrirninalization also affects medicalization. Decriminalization means that a certain activity is no longer considered to be a criminal offense. But even when criminal sanctions are removed, the act may still maintain its definition as deviance. In this case, other noncriminal sanctions may emerge .... [T}he disease model of alcoholism did not begin its rise to prominence until after the repeal of Prohibition, that is, after alcohol use in general was decriminalized. More specifically, we can examine the response to the decriminalization of "public drunkenness" in the 19605. A recent study has shown that although alcohol and drug psychoses comprised only 4.7% of the mental health population (inpatient and outpatient) in 1950, in 1975 "alcoholism accounted for 46 percent of state hospital patients" and became the largest diagnostic category in mental hospitals (Redlich & Kellert, 1978, p. 26). It is likely that the combination of the declining populations in state mental hospitals and the decriminalization of "public drunkenness" (e.g., police now bring drunks to the mental hospital instead of the drunk tank) is in part reflected in this enormous increase of alcoholics in the mental health system. Medicalization allows for the decrirninalization of certain activities (e.g., public drunl<enness, some types of drug use) because (1) they remain defined as deviant (sick) and are not vindicated and (2) an alternative form of social control is available (medicine). If an act is decriminalized and also demedicalized (e.g., homosexuality), there may well be a backlash and a call for recrirninalization or at least reaffirmation of its deviant status rather than a vindication. We postulate that if an act is decriminalized and yet not vindicated (i.e., still remains defined as deviant), its control may be transferred from the criminal justice to the medical system. I7 In the 1960s and early 19705 considerable concern was voiced in some quarters concerning the "social policy" that was leading to the divestment of criminal justice and the rise of the therapeutic state (Kittrie, 1971; Leifer, 1969; Szasz, 1963) ... [Tlhere has been some retreat from the "rehabilitative ideal" in criminal justice. On the other hand, both decarceration and decriminalization have increased medicalization. Thus we would conclude that although the "therapeutic state" is not becoming the dominant social policy as its earlier critics feared, neither is it showing signs of abating. We would suggest that to the extent that decarceration and decrirninalization remain social policies, rnerucalization of deviance can be expected to increase. TRENDS IN MEDICINE AND MEDICALIZATION
The medicalization of deviance has been influenced by changes in the mpnical nrofession and in social policy regarding medical care. TIle pres-
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
tige of medicine has been growing since the turn of the century. Medical practice has become increasingly specialized; whereas only 20% of physicians were specialists in 1940, by the early 1970s nearly 80% considered themselves specialists (Twaddle & Hessler, 1977, p. 175). This is in part the result of the increasingly technological nature of medicine. The number of personnel employed in the medical sector has increased considerably since the Second World War. But the most spectacular growth has been in the cost and investment in medical care in the past three decades. In 1950 the expenditures for medical care comprised 4.6% of the Gross National Product (GNP); by 1976 they accounted for 8.3%, for a total of over $130 billion spent on medical care. Since 1963 health expenditures have risen more than 10% yearly, while the rest of the economy has grown by 6% to 71}'0. In other words, medicine is the fastest expanding part of the service sector and one of the most expansive segments of our economy. In one sense we might see these increasing expenditures themselves as an index of increasing medicalization. But more likely, the increasing economic resources allocated to medical care create a substantial pool of money to draw from, thereby increasing the resources available for medical solutions to human problems. It should be noted, however, that the inflation of medical costs could ultimately become a factor in decreasing the medicalization of deviance, simply because medical solutions have become too costiy. Much of the rising cost of medical care has been attributed to the growth in third-party payments (i.e., when medical care is paid not by the patient or the provider of the care but by a third party.) The major source of third-party payments has been Blue Cross and Blue Shield and the health insurance industry;. and, since the enactment of Medicare and Medicaid in 1965, also the federal government. More than 51 % of medical costs was paid directly by the patient in 1966; by 1975 this figure had dipped to less than 33% (Coe, 1978, p. 387). The largest increase in third-party payments has been the amount paid by the federal government; in 1975, 27.7% of medical costs was borne by the federal government, and this is expected to continue to increase. What this all means for the medicalization of deviance is that "third parties" are increasingly deciding what is appropriate medical care and what is not. For example, if medical insurance or Medicaid will pay for certain types of treatment, then the problem is more likely to be medlcalized. Although the medical profession certainly has influence in this area, this removes the control of medicalization from medical hands and places it into the hands of the third'p~rty payers. Although 90% of America's Blue Cross ~lans prov_ide some hospital cov:rage for ~l~oholi~m, le.ss than 10% o~
583
health-care protection programs (Belwvior Today, June 21, 1976). Although many physicians consider obesity to be a bona fide medical condition, virtually no health insurers will pay for intestinal by-pass operations as a treatment for obesity. Clearly, changes in policies by third-party payers can drastically affect the types or amount of deviance medicalized. Until about the past two decades, the dominant organization of medical practice was private, solo practice. There has been a growing bureaucratization of medical practice. The hospital rather than the private office is becoming the center for health care delivery. These large modern hospitals are both a result of, and an inducement for, the practice of highly specialized and technological medicine. Hospitals have their own organizational priorities of sustaining a smoothly running bureaucracy, maximizing profitable services, justifying technological equipment, and maintaining the patient-bed load at near full capacity_ Although bureaucratic organizations reduce medical professional power, the instihltional structure of the hospital is better suited to function as an agent of social control than the singular office practice_ Hospital medicine can be practiced at a high biotechnological level, is less client dependent (because of third-party payments), has less personal involvement, and is more responsive to demands of other instihttions, especially the state, on whom it is increasingly dependent for financial support. For many years American medicine was considered to be suffering from a shortage of physicians. In the 1960s federal programs to expand medical schools increased greatly the number of physicians being trained. We have just begun to experience the effects of the rising num~er of physicians. Behveen 1970 and 1990 we can expect an 80% increase m the number of physicians-from about 325,000 to almost 600,000. And if present population and medical trends continue, as we expect they will, by 1990 there will be one physician for every 420 people in the United States and an even greater enlargement in the number of nurses and allied health workers (U.5. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, 1974). One result of the growing number of medical personnel could be an increase in the number of problems that become defined as medical problems (after all, we have all these highly trained professionals to treat them). Although the grater number of phYSicians could result in better delivery of medical services, it could also increase medicalization as new physicians attempt to develop new areas of medical turf as old ones become saturated. David Mechanic (1974, p. 50) suggests, for instance, that for "family practice" to become a viable discipline in medicine, family practitioners would have to develop a "scientific and investigatory stance" toward common family practice problems such __ 1I_1 __ 1__
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38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
New Directions in Deviance Theory
c?nform to medical regimen and the like." The potential for the expanSlOn of the medical domain here is great. ~ut there are also some countertrends in medicine. There is an emphasis on both self-care and individual responsibility for health (see Know!e~,. 1977). Health is becoming defined as more of a personal responsibility. As Zola (1972) observes, "At the same time the label 'ill-
ness' is being used to attribute 'diminished responsibility' to a whole host o~ ph~nomena, the issue of 'personal responsibility' seems to be reeme~gmg m medicine itself" (p. 491). Increased personal responSibility for SIckness could cause the responsbility for the behavior to return to the ind~vidua~. F~r instance, alcoholics would be deemed responsible for ~eVlant dn~kmg, obese people for their deviant bodies, and opiate addIcts for theIr habits. This could ultimately spur some demedicalization. 18 . But the most important social policy affecting the future of medlcahzatlOn hinges on the notion of a "right to adequate health care" and the development of National Health Insurance (NHI) program. The proposal of an NHI program has become a significant political lssue. In the past. decade do~ens of bills advocating different NHI plans have been subnutted to vanous congressional committees. No specific NHI plan as yet has emerged as the most probable candidate for passage, but the:e is a high likelthood that some type of NHl plan will be enacted wlthm the next decade. Because of the recent fiscal crunch and the strong lobbying of powerful vested interests (e.g., the health insurance mdustry, the medical profession, the hospital associations) it is unlikely that is will be an NHI program providing comprehensiv; cov~rage. lYfore likely, NHI will not alter the present structure of the medIc~l system and will resemble present insurance programs (although ':lth mcreased publi~ accountability); it will be at least partly federally fin~ced and.ex.tend msur~nce. coverage to all Americans. Regardless of which NHI bIllls enacted, It will have an effect on medicalization. What the eff:ct will be, however, is uncertain. There are at least three possible scenanos.
Scenario One: ~~c.ause the cost of paying for treahnent is high and deemed prohibItive, fewer deviant behaviors are defined as medi:al problems. Perhaps alcoholism, marital problems, drug addiction, psychosurgery, and treahnent for obesity will be excluded from NHI coverage. Sce~nrio
Two: Bec~use NHI will pay for the treatment of anything defined as a medical problem, more deviance becomes medicalized. Gambling, divorce, boredom, narcissism, and lethargy will be defined as 111nf'ssf'.s :mrl ITPCltf'rl mprlirrlllv
585
Scwnrio Three: Individuals are not considred responsible for their illnesses; so activities that are seen as leading to medical problems become defined as deviant. Smoking, eating poorly, getting insufficient exercise, or eschewing seat belts all will be defined as deviant. Certain medical problems could be excluded from NHI coverage because they are deemed to be willfully caused (Le., "badness"). This final scenario takes us full circle, as we would develop the notion of "sickness as sin."19 Scenarios two and three would further the convergence of illness and deviance. At this point, it is difficult to predict which, if any, of these scenarios might result from the enachnent of NHI. PUNITIVE BACKLASH
Since about 1970 there has been a "backlash" against the increasing "liberalization" of the treahnent of deviance and the Supreme Court decisions that have granted criminal suspects and offenders greater "rights." This public reaction, coming mostly from the more conservative sectors of society, generally calls for more strict treatment of deviants and a return to more punitive sanctions. This "punitive backlash" takes many forms. In 1973 New York passed a get tough" law with mandatory prison sentences for drug dealers. Other legislative attempts have been made to impose mandatory minimum sentences on offenders. There is a considerable public clamor for the return of the death penalty. A current New York state law has allowed juveniles between ages 13 and 15 to be tried as adults for some offenses. The antiabortion crusade has made inroads into the availability of abortions and is aiming for the recriminalization of abortion. Recently antihomosexuality crusades have appeared from Florida to Oregon, defeating antidiscrimination referenda and limiting the rights of homosexuals. This swell of public reaction may be in part a response to the therapeutic ideology and the perceived "coddling" of deviants. Should this backlash and other recent public reactions such as California's Proposition 13 taxpayer revolt continue to gather strength and grow in popularity, they well may force a retreat from the medicalization of deviance. 11
SOME SOCIAL POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS
Our examination of the medicalization of deviance in American society has led us to some conclusions related to social policy. In this discussion we brieflv outline some social policy recommendations.
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
1. The medicalization of deviance needs to be recognized as a de facto sodal policy. Recognized as such, issues like those pointed to in this
chapter could be raised and debated. It is important that public discussion by physicians, politicians, and lay persons alike be encouraged and facilitated. In recognition of the salience of rnedicalization and its consequences, perhaps "medicalization impact statements" should be required of social policy proposals affecting rnedicalization. For example, it is important to weigh the impact of NHI on medicalization. 2. Research is needed on the extent of medicalization, its benefits, and its costs. This includes research into the efficacy, the financial and social costs, and the extent of actual medicalization. We need continued research into the politics of medicalization and further investigation into the areas of medicalized deviance covered in [Deviance a11d MedicaIizatiOI1 J as well as those not covered, such as the medicalization of suicide old age and senility, obesity, abortion, and mental retardation. We need to compare these with uncontested medical problems that were at one time defined as deviance, such as epilepsy and leprosy. Close attention needs to be given to the efficacy, costs, and benefits for each type of medicalization. Hopefully such knowledge and understanding will better guide social policy decisions concerning medicalization. 3. Medicalization removes the constitutional safeguards of the judicial process (see Kittrie, 1971). Because of this, it is important to create some type of medical due process or redress for putative deviants who are the objects of therapeutic interventions. Since this type of due process would probably be resisted by the medical profession and labeled antitherapeutic, we propose the development of some type of "counterpower" to medical social control. This could take the form of patient or deviant advocates, intervention review organizations, or even a Nadertype watchdog group. This would help ensure that individual rights were not circumvented in the name of health. 4. It is our belief that we need to develop social policies toward deviance that hold people accollntable for their actions but do not bla1lle them. TIlis is a delicate but possible balance. One proposal is bypassing such slippery concepts as responsibility and guilt, substituting an assumption of human fallibility combined with accountability for human action. As Kittrie (1971 suggests, Every person who lives in a society is accountable to it for his anti-social behavior. Society, in return, may seek to curb his future misdeeds, not as a punishment for the improper exercise of free will but as a remedy for his human failings. Although the notions of guilt, more responsibility, and accountability are profound philosophical (and political) questions that cannot begin to
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
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be addressed here, we believe they must be directly discussed and reevaluated, since many people's lives are profoundly affected by them. Presently our society's only "no blame" model for deviant behavior is the medical model. We need to develop new models of deviance that do not assume ultimate individual moral responsibility and yet do not define those who are not considered responsible as "sick." Presently the only alternative to the criminal-responsibility model is the medical-noresponsibility model. It is imperative that we free oursel:res from ,the dichotomous crime or sickness models that create largely eIther-or SItuations, as well as from unworkable and contradictory crime-sickness hybrids, as with sex offenders. ..' . .. New models of deviance need to be reconCIled WIth SOCIal SCIentific knowledge about deviance. There is considerab.le eviden~e that e.c~ nomic, social, and family factors contribute to deVIant behavlOr, and It 15 important to understand that the individual has only limited cont.roI over these factors. Yet it is also important, because of our understanding of human behavior, not to completely neglect its voluntary components. Thus we concur with Robert Veatch (1973) that rather than assuming that human behavior is caused by biophysiological elements ("sidmess"), "it is preferable to make clear the missing c~tegories-namely noncul· pable deviancy caused psychologically, SOCIally and culturally, for example, by lack of various forms of psychologIcal, SOCIal and cultural welfare" (p. 71). We need to create a "no blame" role for deviants that still holds the individual accOlmtable for his or her action. We need to create a social role analogous to the sick role that does not assume sickness OI remove responsibility and yet reconciles our understanding that there are "forces" beyond the scope of the individual that affect human be· havior. For example, one can envision the conception of a "victim role", the individual is viewed as a "victim" of life circumstances; these circumstances are known to increase the probability for certain types oJ "deviant" behavioral responses as well as attributions, yet because ~€ behavior is not regarded as "determined" by the circumstances, the m· dividual is accountable for deviant behavior. In other words, given the circumstances the individual is accountable for the behavioral strate· gies chosen in' a situation. Needless to say, thi~ is ~ complex an~ stick) issue, replete with philosophical and pragmatic pItfalls. It proVIdes ar important challenge for social scientists and philosophers. We pre~en this example only to suggest the possibility of alternatives to the n;~dical. criminal model dichotomy. As Clarice Stoll (1968) observes, Oill lillage of man" is central in determining our social response to deviance; w{ call for the development of an alternative image that reconciles societa response with the understandings of social and behavioral science.
586
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sdmeider
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Finally, because social control is necessary for the existence of saciJ conceive of any individual as "evi~." As sociolo?"ists we are -:nor~ likely :ty, we urge the ~evelopment of alternative, noncriminal and namned.! to see people as produ:ts o~ theIr psych~log1cal. and SOCIal ClrCUffileal modes of SOCIal control appropriate to the new model of devianc ,I stances: there may be evil SOCIal structures, Ideologtes, or deeds, but not e.! evil people. Yet when we confront a Hitler, an Idi Amin, or a Stalin of the j forced labor camps, it is sometimes difficult to reach any other concluMEDICALIZING DEVIANCE: A FINAL NOTE sion. We note this dilemma more as clarification of OUI stance than as a solution. There are both evils in society and people who are "victim" to The potential.for me.dicalizin.g deviance has increased in the past few those evils. Wort~while s~c~al scien~fi~ goals incl~de uncover~g ~le decades. The mcreasmg domInance of the medical profession the dis-I evils, understandmg and aIdmg the VICtims, and ultimately contributing cove~ of subtl~ phYSiological correlates of human behavior,' and thel to a more humane existence for all. creation ~f medIcal technologies (promoted by powerful pharmaceutical! and medIcal technology industry interests) have advanced this trend.! ~~ough we remain skeptical of the overall social benefits of medicaI-i SUMrvIARY lzation . I r . and are concerned about its "darker" side, it is much t 00 SlITI-1 P IStiC t? sugge~t a wholesale condemnation of medicalization. Offerin ,In the 20th century, medicine has expanded as an institution of social alcoholics medIcal treatment in lieu of the drunk tank is undoubtedl ~I control. On the most abstract level medical social control is the accepmore humane res~onse to deviance; methadone maintenance allow~ a I tance of a medical perspective as the dominant definition of certain phesel~ct group of 0pI~te addicts to make successful adaptations to soci- nomena. Me~lica~ social c~ntrol of de~iant behav~or usu~lly takes t.he ety, some ~ch~olchildren seem to benefit from stimulant medications I form of medIcal mterventIon, attemptmg to modIfy devIant behavIOr for hyperkinesIs;. ~d the m~dical dis:overy of child abuse may well in-I with medical me~ and the name of heal~. We iden~ three general cre~se therapeutIc mtervention. MedIcalization in general has reduced forms of the medIcal socIal control of devIance: medIcal technology, socle~a! conde~ation of deviants. But these benefits do not mean these I medical collaboration, and medical ideology. Medical technology inCOn~ltIon~ are In fact diseases or that the same results could not be vol~es the use?f pharmaceu~ical or surg~cal te~ologies as con~~ls for ~chieved,,~anot~er manner. And even in those instances of medical I devIance. MedIcal collaboration emphaSIZes the mterwoven posItion of I medicine in society and occurs when physicians collaborate with other success, e s.o~Ial consequences indicated .. ,are still evident. The ~ost diffi~ult consequence of medicalization for us to discuss is authorities as information providers, gatekeepers, institutional agents the exclusIOn of e~il . part this is because we are members of a culture and technicians. Medical ideology as social control involves defining a that has l~rgely elimmated evil from intellectual and public discourse. behavior or condition as an illness primarily for the social and ideologBut o~r dIscomfort also stems from our ambivalence about what can ical benefits accrued by conceptualizing it in medical terms. Although m~arungful1y be construed as evil in our SOciety. If we are excluding these three "ideal types" are likely to be found in combination, they eVIl, what. e.xactly are. we ~xcluding? We have no difficulty depicting highlight the ~aried faces of. medical social control.. .. . There are unportant SOCIal consequences of medicahzmg deVIance. such COndIti~ns as. palI~, vlOlence, oppression, exploitation, and abject cruelty ~s eVIl. Soc~al SCIentists of various stripes have been pointing to : The "brighter" side of medicalization includes (1) a more humanitarian th~se evIl.s and theIr consequences since the dawn of social science. It is conception of deviance; (2) the extension of the sick role to deviants, also p~ssIb!e.for us to conceive of "organizational evils" such as corpo- minimizing blame and allowing for the conditional legitimation of a r.ate pnce fI:~~mg, false a~vertising (or even all advertising), promoting certain amount of deviance; (3) the more optimistic view of change prelife:threaterun? ~utomobiles, or the wholesale drugging of nursing home i sented by the medical model; (4) lending the prestigious mantle of the pati.ents t? fa~llitate ~stitutional management. We also have little trou- medical profession to deviance designations and treatments; and (5) the ble m seemg IdeologIes such as imperialism, chauvinism, and racial su- fact that medical social control is more flexible and sometimes more efpre:nacy as evils. Our difficulty comes with seeing individuals as evil. ficient than other controls. However, there is a "darker" side of med~le,,,,e would not adopt a Father-Flanagan-of-Boys-Town attitude of icalization, which includes (1) the dislocation of responsibility from the _~ere s. ~o such ~g as a .b~d ~o~," OUr own socialization and "liberal" individual; (2) the assumption of the moral neutrality of medicine; (3) 1-1.. _____ Ll __ ~ _~~_ .... ..:I".. ,.,,-l 'h. v i-h o rlr.n->1n::otinn nf pvnprt rnntrnl: (4) now-
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erful medical techniques used for social control; (5) the individualization of complex social problems; (6) the depoliticization of deviant behavior; and (7) the exclusion of evil. It is this darker side that leaves us skeptieal of the social benefits of medicalizing deviance. The medicalization of deviance has become a de facto social policy. Changes in other "social policies" affect medicalization. Decarceration leads to the increasing deployment of medical social control, since it is one of the most effective social controls "in the community." Decriminalization may also increase medicalization because medicine provides an alternative social control mechanism. We postulate that if an act is decriminalized and not vindicated, its control may be transferred from the criminal justice system to the medical system. Although the therapeutic state has not become the dominant social policy, neither does it show any signs of withering away. Medicalization is also influenced by changes and trends in medicine. Medical practice is becoming increasingly specialized, technological, and bureaucratic. Society's economic investment (in terms of percentage of GNP) in medical care has nearly doubled in the past three decades. This is both an index of and incentive for medicalization. Bureaucratic medical practice removes some definitional power from the medical profession and places it in the hands of third-party payers (including the state) and hospital administrators. The number of physicians and other medical personnel will double by 1990; this may well cause further medicalization. On the other hand, the increased emphasis on self-care and individual responsibility for health, as well as the "fiscal crisis" of rapidly rising medical costs, may limit medicalizalion and spur demedicalization. The passage of a National Health Insurance program may have a profound effect on medicalization, although it is difficult to predict preCisely what it will be. If the "punitive backlash" to perceived liberalized treatment of deviants gains strength, it may force some retreat from the medicalization of deviance. We conclude with some brief social policy recommendations: 1.
2. 3.
4.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider
New Directions in Deviance Theory
The medicalization of deviance needs to be recognized as a de facto social policy. More research is needed on the extent, politics, benefits, and costs of medicalizing deviance. Some form of "counterpower" to medical social control needs to be created. A new model of deviance that holds people accountable for their actions but does not blame them needs to be developed, perhaps as a "victim" model. We need to be freed from the dichotomous crime or sickness models that create limiting either-or sitUations.
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NOTES 1.
Another pharmaceutical innovation, birth control pills, also fun~o~ as a medical control; in this case, the control of reproduction. There IS little doubt that "the pill" has played a Significant part in the sexual revolUtion since the 1960s and the redefinition of what constitutes sexual de-
viance. A number of other surgical interventions for deviance have been developed in recent years. Surgery for "gender dysphoria" (transsexuality) and "intestinal by-pass" operations for obesity are both examples of surgical intervention for deviance. The legalization of abortions h~s also medicalized and legitimated an activity that was formerly deVIant and brought it under medical-surgical control. .. 3. It is worth noting that in tile recent Gary Gihnore execution a phYSICian was involved; he designated the spot where the heartbeat was loudest and measured vital signs during the execution ceremony. A few states have actually passed death penalty legislation specifying injection of a lethal drug as the means of execution. . 4. Although Waitzkin and Watennan suggest that such secondary gam functions are latent (Le., unintended and unrecognized), tile cases we have discussed here show that such "gains" are often intentionally pur-
2.
sued. From Pitts, J. Social control: the concept. In D. Sills (Ed.), IntematiolU1l ellcyclopedia of social sciellces (vol. 14). New YO.rIc Macmilla~ Publishing Co., Inc., 1968. Copyright 1968 by Crowell CollIer and Macnullan, Inc. 6. It should be noted, however, that little empirical evidence exists for reduced stigmatization. Derek Phillips' (1963) research suggests that ~eo pIe seeking medical help for their personal problems are highly at ~sk for rejection and stigmatization. Certain illnesses carry their own stigma. Leprosy, epilepsy, and mental illness are all stigmatized illnes:es ~Gus sow & Tracy, 1968); Susan Son tag (1978) proposes that cancer 15 hig~ly stigmatized in American society. We need further research on the stigmareducing properties of medical designations of deviance; it is by nO means an automatic result of medicalization. 7. On the other hand, Paul Roman and Harrison Trice (1968, p. 248) contend that the sick role of alcoholic may actually reinforce deviant behav ior by removing responsibility for deviant drinking behavior. 8. Reprinted by permission of Daedallls, Journal of the American Acad~my of Arts and Sciences, Boston, Mass. Spring 1977, Doing better alld feelmg
5.
worse: health ill tile United States. 9.
.
10.
For a contrasting viewpoint, see Rotenberg's (1978) work, discussed ill [Deviance alld MedicalizatiOlI: From Badness fa Sickness]. . From Pitts, J. Social control: the concept. In D. Sills (Ed.), jlltenwtlOllal ellcyc10pedia of social sciellces (Vol. 14). New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1968. Copyright 1968 by Crowell Collier and Macmillan, Inc.
11.
Ibid.
592
New Directions in Deviance Theory
12. 13. 14.
Ibid. Reprinted with permission from Pergamon Press, Ltd. From "The medical institution: the death and disea5e~producing appendage" by Janice M. Reynolds, first published in Americall society: a critical analysis edited by Larry T. Reynolds and James M. Henslin. Copy_ right © 1973 by Longman Inc. Reprinted by permission of Longman. 15. Writing in the early 19705, Kittrie (1971) noted, "Ours is increasingly becoming a society that views punishment as a primitive and vindictive tool and is therefore loath to punish" (p. 347). Some recent scholarship in penology and the controversy about the death penalty has slightly modified this trend. 16. We do /lot suggest that these individuals or any other deviants discussed in this book are or should be considered eviL We only wish to point out that medicalization on a social level contributes to the exclusion of evil. To the extent that evil exists, we would argue that social structures and specific social conditions are the most significant cause of evil. 17. The decriminalization of abortion has led to its complete medicalization. It is interesting to speculate whether the decriminalization of marijuana, gambling, and prostitution would lead to medicalization. It is likely that with marijuana and gambling, "compulsive" and excessive indulgence would be defined as "sick"; with prostitution, medical certification might be required, as is presently the case in several European countries. 18 Renee Fox (1977, pp. 19-21) contends that the recent trends of viewing patients as consumers, the emergence of physician extenders such as nurse practitioners and physicians' assistants, and "the increased insis~ tence on patients' rights, self-therapy, mutual aid, community medical services and care by non-physician health professionals" constitute evidence for demedicalization. We think Fox is mistaken. Demedicalizatioll does /lot ocwr Ulltil a problem is /la longer defined ill medical terllls and medical treatments are 110 longer seen as directly relevallt to its solutioll. Fox confuses deprofessionalization with demedicalization. 19. Paradoxically this could also encourage dernedicalization, for the medical model then becomes less functional in removing the culpability for deviance.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider
593
Chalfant, P. Professionalization and the medicalization of deviance: the case of probation officers. Offender Rehabilitation, 1977, 2, 77-85. Chorover, S. Big Brother and psychotechnology. Psychol. Today, 1973, 7, 43--54 (Oct.).
d1orover, S.: Psychosurgery: a neuropsychological perspective. Boston U. Law RI!V., 1974, 74, 231-248 (Ma,ch). Coe, R. M. SociologJj of medicine (2nd ed.). New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1978. Comfort, A. The alJxiehj makers. London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1967. Conrad, P. The discovery of hyperkinesis: notes on the medicalization of deviant behavior. Social Prob., 1975,23, 12-21 (Oct.). Coruad, P. Soviet dissidents, ideological deviance, and mental hospitalization. Presented at Midwest Sociological Society Meetings, Ivlinneapolis, 1977. Oaniels, A. K. The captive professional: bureaucratic limitation in the practice of military psychiatry. J. Healtl, Soc. Beltav., 1969, 10,255-265 (Dec.). Delgado, J. M. R. Physical control of the mind: toward a psychocivilized sociehj. New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1969. Duster, T. The legislation of moralihj. New York: The Free Press, 1970. Edelman, M. Political language: words that silcceed mId policies that fail. New York: Academic Press, Inc., 1977. Ehrenreid1, 8., & Ehrenreich, J. Medicine and social control. In B. R. Mandell (Ed.), Welfare ill America: controlling the "dangerous" dasses. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1975. Englehardt, H. T., Jr. The disease of masturbation: values and the concept of disease. Bull. Hist. Med., 1974, 48, 234--248 (Summer). Erikson, K. T. Wayward puritans. New York: JaM Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966. Fox, Renee. The medicalization and demedicalization of American society. Daedallls, 1977, 106, 9-22. Fox, Richard G. The){'fY offender: a modem myth? J. CrillliH. Law, Crimillol,
GIld Police Sd" 1971, 62 (1),59-73.
REFERENCES
Frank, J. Persuasion alld healing. (Rev. ed.). New York: Schocken Books, Inc., 1974.
Arendt, H. Eie/lInmm in Jerusalem. New York: Viking Press, 1963.
Freeman, W. Psychosurgery. In S. Arieti (Ed.), American handbook of psychiatry (Vol. 2). New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1959.
Becker, E. Escape from evil. New York: The Free Press, 1975. Caplan, N., & Nelson, S. D. On being useful: the nature and consequences of psychological research on social problems. Am. Psychologist, 1973, 28, 199-211. Carhvright, S. W. Report on the diseases and physical peculiarities of the negro race. N.G. Med. SlIrg. J., 1851, 7, 691-715.
Freidson, E. Profession of medicine. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers Inc., 1970. Freidson, E. Doctoring together, New York: Elsevier North-Holland, Inc., 1975. Goddard, j. The medical bU5iness. Sci. Am., 1973, 229, 161-168 (Sept.).
594
Gussow, 2., & Tracy, G. S. Status, ideology and adaptation to stigmatized illness: a study of leprosy. HIIIII. Orgallization, 1968, 27, 316--325. Halleck, S. L. The politics of therapy. New York: Science House, 1971 Hurvitz, N. Psychotherapy as a means of social control. J. Consult. Clill. PsyelIOT., 1973, 40, 232-239.
595
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider
New Directions in Deviance Theory
Pitts, J. Social control: the concept. In D. Sills (Ed.), Il1tematiollnl ellC1jc1opedia of social sciences. (VoL 14). New York Maanillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1968. Redlich, E, & Kellert, S. R. Trends in American mental health. Am, J. Psyc1liatn;. 1978, 135, 22-28 Gan.).
Illich, 1. Medicall1clIlesis. New York: Pantheon Books, Inc., 1976.
Reynolds, J. M. The medical institution: the death and disease-producing appendage. In L. T. Reynolds & J. M. Henslin (Eds.) Americall society: a critical allalysis. New York David McKay Co., Inc., 1973.
Kittrie, N. The right to be different: devia/lce and ellforced tlterapy. Baltimore: Johns Hapkins University Press, 1971. Copyright the JaMs Hapkins Press, 1971.
Roman, P. M. & Trice, H. M. The sick role, labelling theory and tile deviant drinker. Internat. J. Soc. Psychiatnj, 1968, 14, 245-251.
Knowles, J. H. The responsibility of the individuaL Daedallls, 1977, 106, 57-80. Leifer, R. III the /lame of mentlll1waltlz. New York Science House, 1969. Lemert, E. M. Humall deviallce, social problems alld social cOlltrol (2nd ed.). Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1972. Lennard, H.L., Epstein, L.J., Bemstein, A., & Ranson, D. e. Mystificatioll alld drug misllse. New York: Perennial Library, 1971. Lyman, S. TIle seven deadly sillS: society mid evil. New York: St. Martin's Press, Inc., 1978.
v.,
Mark, & Ervin, F. Violence alld tlte brain. New York: Harper & Row Publishers, Inc., 1970. McKnight, J. Professionalized services and disabling help. In L Illich et aL, Disabling professiolls. London: Marion Boyars Publisher Ltd., 1977. Mechanic, D. Health and illness in technological societies. Hastings Cellter Stlld. 1973, 1(3), 7-18.
Rosen, G. The evolution of social medicine. In H. E. Freeman, S. Levine, & L. Reeder (Eds.), Hmldbook of medical sociolog1j (2nd ed.). Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1972, Rotenberg, M. Dal/mation alld deviance: the Protestanf Ethic and the spirit offailure. New York: The Free Press, 1978. Ryan, W. Blaming tile victim. New York: Vintage Books, 1971. Scheff, T. J. Decision rules, types of errors, and their consequences in medical diagnosis. Behav, Sci., 1963, B. 97-107. Scull, A. Decnrceration. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1977. Shuval, J. T., & Antonovsky, A. illness: a mechartism for coping with failure. Soc. Sci. Med., 1973, 7, 259-265. Sigler, M., & Osmond, H. Models of madness, models of medicille. New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1974. Son tag, S. Illness as metaphor. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1978.
Mechanic, D. Politics, medicille I1nd social science. New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1974.
Sorenson, J. Biomedical innovation, uncertainty, and doctor-patient interaction. J. Health Soc. BellOv., 1974, 15, 366-374 (Dec.).
Melick, M. E., Steadman, H. J., & COCOZZ
Sto11, C. S. Images of man and social controL Soc. Forces, 196B, 47, 119-127 (Dec.).
Menninger, W. e. A psyc/tiatrist for a troubled world. B. H. Hall (Ed.), New York: Viking Press, 1967.
Szasz, T. Tile mytll of mental illlless. New York: Hoeber-Harper, 1961.
Miller, K. S. Mmwging madl/ess, New York: The Free Press, 1976.
Szasz, T. Law, liberty mId psychiatry. New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1963.
Mills, e. W. Situated actions and vocabularies of motive. Am. Social Rev., 1940, 6,904-913.
Szasz, T. Legal and moral aspects of homosexuality. In J. Marmor (Ed.), SexlIal inversion: tile multiple roots ofllOlIlosexuality, New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1965.
Parsons, T. The socinlsystem. New York: The Free Press, 1951. Parsons, T. Definitions of illness and health in light of American values and social structure. In E. G. Jaco (Ed.), Patients, physicians alld illness. (2nd ed.). New York: The Free Press, 1972. Parsons, T. The sick role and the role of the physician reconsidered. Health society, 1975, 53( 257~278 (Summer). Plohl, S. j. The 'discovery' of child abuse. Social Prob., 1977,24,310-323 (Feb.).
Szasz, T. The mamifacture of madness. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc., 1970. Szasz, T. Ceremonial chemistnj. New York: Anchor Books, 1974. Twaddle, A. C, & Hessler, R. M. A sociology ofHeaIth. St. Louis: the e. Mosby Co., 1977.
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US Department of Health, Education and Welfare. The supply oflIealth ma1lpower (Publication No. [HRA] 75-38). Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government ~
'.'
....... ".
~
... -.
596
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39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson
597
Veatch, R. M. The medical model: its nature and problems. HastiJJgs Cellter Stlld., 1973, 1(3), 59-76.
Waitzkin, H., & Stueckle, J. Information control and the micropolitics of health care: summary of an ongoing project. Soc. Sci. Med., 1976, 10, 263-276 Uune). Waitzkin, H. K., & Waterman, B. Tlte c:xploitatiDll of illness ill capitalist society. Indianapolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Co., Inc., 1974. Wolff, K. For a sociology of evil. J. Soc.
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1969, 25, 111-125.
Wootton, B. Social sciellce olldsocilll pathologzj. London: George AlIen & Unwin, 1959.
201a, L K. Medicine as an institution of social control. Sociological ReI}., 1972, 20,187-504. 201a, L K. In the name of health and illness: on Some socio-political consequences of medical influence. Soc. Sri. Med., 1975, 9, 83-87.
39 Social Change and Crime Rate Trends: A Routine Activity Approach
LAWRENCE E. COHEN and MARCUS FELSON INTRODUCTION In its summary report the National Commission on the Causes and Pre-
vention of Violence (1969: xxxvii) presents an important sociological paradox: Why, we must ask, have urban violent crime rates increased sub~ stantially during t~e past ~ecade when the conditions that are sup-
posed to ,cause VIOlent cnme have not worsened-have, indeed generally Improved? The Bureau of the Census, in its latest report on trends in social and economic condilions in metropolitan areas, states that most "indicators of well-being pOint toward progress in the cities since 1960."
Reprinted from Lawrence E. Cohen and Milreus Felsofl, "Social Change and Crime R<1te Trends: A Routine Activity Approach," American Sociological Review, vaL 44 (1979), pp. 588-608. By permission of the American Sociological Association and the authors. For their comments, we thank David J. Bordua, Ross M. Stolzenberg, Christopher S. Dunn, Kenneth C. Land, Robert Schoen, Amos Hawley, and an anonymous reviewer. Funding for this study was provided by these United States Government grants: National Institute for Mental Health l-ROI-MH31117-01' National Science Foundation SOC-77-13261; and United States Army RI/DAHC 19-76-G-0016. The authors' nam'e order is purely alphabetkill.
Thus, for example, the proportion of blacks in cities who completed high school rose from 43 percent in 1960 to 61 percent in 1968; unemployment rates dropped significantly between 1959 and 1967 and the median family income of blacks in cities increased from 61 percent to 68 percent of the median white family income during the same period. Also during the same period the number of persons living below the legally-defined poverty level in cities declined from 11.3 million to 8.3 million.
Despite the general continuation of these trends in social and economic conditions in the United States, the Uniform Crime Report (FBI, 1975:49) indicates that between 1960 and 1975 reported rates of robbery, aggravated assault, forcible rape and homicide increased by 263%,164%, 174%, and 188%, respectively. Similar property crime rate increases reported during this same period} (e.g., 200% for burglary rate) suggest that the paradox noted by the Violence Commission applies to nonviolent offenses as welL In the present paper we consider these paradoxical trends in crime rates in terms of changes in the "routine activities" of everyday life. We believe the structure of such activities influences criminal opportunity and therefore affects trends in a class of crimes we refer to as direct-contact predatory violatiol1s. Predatory violations are defined here as illegal acts in which "someone definitely and intentionally takes or damages the person or property of another" (Glaser, 1971:4). Further, this analysis is confined to those predatory violations involving direct physical contact between at least one offender and at least one person or object which that offender attempts to take or damage. We argue that structural changes in routine activity patterns can influence crime rates by affecting the convergence in space and time of the three minimal elements of direct-contact predatory violations: (1) motivated offenders, (2) suitable targets, and (3) the absence of capable guardians against a violation. We further argue that the lack of anyone of these elements is sufficient to prevent the successful completion of a direct-contact predatory crime, and that the convergence in time and space of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians may even lead to large increases in crime rates without necessarily requiring any increase in the structural conditions that motivate individuals to engage in crime. TIlat is, if the proportion of motivated offenders or even suitable targets were to remain stable in a community, changes in routine activities could nonetheless alter the likelihood of their convergence in space and time, thereby creating more opportunities for crimes to occur. Control therefore becomes criticaL If controls through routine activities were to decrease, illegal predatory activities could then be likely to increase. In the process of developing this explanation and evaluating its
ri'
598
New Directions in Deviance Theory
consistency ~ith existing data, we relate Our approach to classical human ecologIcal concepts and to several earlier studies. THE STRUCTURE OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY
Sociological knowledge of how community structure generates illegal acts has ma~e little progress since Shaw and McKay and their colleagues (1929) published their pathbreaking work, Delil1qllel1C1j Areas. Variations ID CrIme ~ates over space long have been recognized (e.g., see Gueny, 1833; Quet~let, 1~42), a.nd. current evidence indicates that the pattern of the~e relatIOnshIps wIthin metropolitan communities has persisted (Relss, 1976). Although most spatial research is quite useful for describing crime rate patterns and providing post hoc explanations, these works seldom consider-conceptually or empirically-the fundamental h.~an ec.olog~cal character ?f illegal acts as events which OCCur at spe~ific locations In space and tmle, involving specific persons andj or obJects. These and related concepts can help us to develop an extension of th~ human ecological analysis to the problem of explaining changes in crlffie. rates over time. Unlike many criminological inquiries, We do not examme why individuals or groups are inclined criminally, but rather we take criminal inclination as given and examine the manner in which the spatio-temporal organization of social activities helps people to translate their criminal inclinations into action. Criminal violations are trea.ted here as routine activities which share many attributes of, and are mterdependent with, other routine activities. This interdependence between the struc~e .o! illegal activities and the organization of everyday sustenance actIvItIes leads us to consider certain concepts from human ecological literature. SELECTED CONCEPTS FROM HAWLEY'S HUMAN ECOLOGICAL THEORY
While criminologists traditionally have concentrated on the spatial analyof crune rates within metropolitan communities, they seldom have considered the temporal interdependence of these acts. In his classic theory of human ecology, Amos Hawley (1950) treats the community not sImply as a urut of terrItory but rather as an organization of symbiotic and commensalistic relationships as human activities are performed over both space and time. I:Iawley identified three important temporal components of commumty structure: (1) rhythm, the regular periodicity with which events occur, as with ther .rhythm of travel activity; (2) tempo, the number of ' '.. • ,. ..•.•. SIS
_ • • _ _ L __________ · ,
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
599
day on a given street; and (3) timing, the coordination among different activities which are more or less interdependent, such as the coordination of an offender's rhythms with those of a victim (Hawley, 1950:289; the examples are ours). These components of temporal organization, often neglected in criminological research, prove useful in analyzing how illegal tasks are performed-a utility which becomes more apparent after noting the spatio-temporal requirements of illegal activities. THE MINIMAL ELEMENTS OF DIRECT-CONTACT PREDATORY VIOLATIONS
As we previously stated, despite their great diversity, direct-contact predatory violations share some important requirements which facilitate analysis of their structure. Each successfully completed violation minimally requires an offender with both criminal inclinations and the ability to carry out those inclinations, a person or object providing a suitable target for the offender, and absence of guardians capable of preventing violations. We emphasize that the lack of anyone of these elements normally is sufficient to prevent such violations from occurring. 7. Though guardianship is implicit in everyday life, it usually is marked by the absence of violations; hence it is easy to overlook. While police action is analyzed widely, guardianship by ordinary citizens of one another and of property may be one of the most neglected elements in sociological reM search on crime, especially since it links seemingly unrelated social roles and relationships to the occurrence or absence of illegal acts. The conjunction of these minimal elements can be used to assess how social structure may affect the tempo of each type of violation. That is, the probability that a violation will occur at any specific time and place might be taken as a function of the convergence of likely offenders and suitable targets in the absence of capable guardians. Through consideration of how trends and fluctuations in social conditions affect the frequency of this convergence of criminogenic circumstances, an explanation of temporal trends in crime rates can be constructed. THE ECOLOGICAL NATURE OF ILLEGAL ACTS
This ecological analysis of direct-contact predatory violations is intended to be more than metaphorical. In the context of such violations, people, gaining and losing sustenance, struggle among themselves for property, safety, territorial hegemony, sexual outlet, physical control, and sometimes for survival itself. The interdependence between ofC~~..4 ......... ., .... ..4 H;,..~;rnC'
... " ..... ho U;O'MOr!
,,:0<;: ~ nrprl~tnT\'
rp1;ltlnn.c;hin hpMPpn
600
New Directions in Deviance Theory
~ctio~ally dissimilar individuals or groups. Since predatory violations fail to YIeld any ~et gain in s~tenance for the larger community, they can only be sustamed by feeding upon other activities. As offenders coope-:ate ~o ,increase t~eir efficiency at predatory violations and as potential VICtimS ~rg~~ t~eir resi~tance to th~se violations, both groups apply the symbIOtic prmcIple to Improve therr sustenance position. On the other hand, potential victims of predatory crime may take evasive actions which encourage offenders to pursue targets other than their own. Since illegal activities must feed upon other activities, the spatial and temp.oral structure of routine legal activities should play an important role ill determining the location, type and quantity of illegal acts occurnng ill a gIven community Or society. Moreover, one can anal yze
601
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
separate many people from those they trust and the property they value.
Routine activities also bring together at various times of day or rught persons of ~erent background, sometime~ ~ the prese~ce of fac~ties, tools or weapons which influence the comnussIOn or aVOIdance of illegal acts. Hence, the timing of work, schooling and leisure may be of central importance for explaining crime rates. The ideas presented so far are not new, but they freque~tly o~er looked in the theoretical literature on crime. Although an mvestigation of the literature uncovers significant examples of descriptive and practical data related to the routine activities upon which illegal behavior feeds, these data seldom are treated within an analytical framework The next section reviews some of this literature.
at:
how the structure of community organization as well as the level of technology in a society provide the circumstances under which crime can thrive. For example, technology and organization affect the capaci-
ty of persons. with crin:i~al inclinations to overcome their targets, as well as affecting the ability of guardians to contend with potential of-
fenders by. uSI.ng whatever protective tools, weapons and skills they ~ave at therr dlsp~sal. ~any technological advances designed for legitlIDate purposes-mcIudmg the automobile, small power tools, hunting weapo~, highways, telephones, etc.-may enable offenders to carry out. therr own work more effectively or may assist people in protecting theIr own or someOne else's person or property. . Not only do routine legitimate activities often provide the whereWIthal to commit offenses or to guard against others who do so, but t~ey also provide offenders with suitable targets. Target suitability is likely to reflect such things as value (i.e., the material or symbolic deS~~bility of a personal or property target for offenders), physical visibIlIty, acce~s, an~ the inertia of a target against illegal treatment by offenders (mcIudmg the weight, size, and attached or locked features of property inhibiting its illegal removal and the physical capacity of persona~ VICo.n:S.t~ resist attackers with or without weapons). Routine pro~uction actiVIties probably affect the suitability of consumer goods
for illegal removal by determining their value and weight. Daily activlties may ~ffect the location of property and personal targets in visible
and acceSSIble places at particular times. These activities also may cause people to have on h:m-d objects that can be used as weapons for criminal act~ or self-protectIon or to be preoccupied with tasks which reduce thel! capacity to discourage or resist offenders. While little is known about conditions that affect the convergence of
RELATION OF THE ROUTINE ACTIVITY APPROACH TO EXTANT STUDIES A major advantage of the routine activity approach presented he~e ~ that it helps assemble some diverse and previously unconnected CflrrUnological analyses into a single substantive framework This framework also serves to link illegal and legal activities, as illustrated by a few examples of descriptive accounts of criminal activity. DESCRIPTIVE ANALYSES
There are several descriptive analyses of criminal acts in criminological literature. For example, Thomas Reppetto's (1974) study, Residential Clime, considers how residents supervise their neighborhoods and streets and limit access of possible offenders. He also considers how distance of households from the central city reduces risks of criminal victimization. Reppetto's evidence-consisting of criminal justice records, observations of comparative features of geographic areas, victimization ~urvey data and offender interviews-indicates that offenders are very likely to use burglary tools and to have at least minimal technical skills, that physical
characteristics of dwellings affect their victimization rates, that the rhythms of residential crime rate patterns are marked (often related .to travel and work patterns of residents), and that visibility of potential sites of crime affects the risk that crimes will occur there. Similar findings are reported by Pope's (1977a; 1977b) study of burglary in California and
potential offenders, targets and guardians this a potentially rich SOurce
by ScaIT's (1972) study of burglary in and around the District of Columbia. In addition, many studies report that architectural and enVIronmen-
of propOSItIons about cri'me rates. For example, daily work activities
tal design as well as community crime programs serve to decrease target
602
New Directions in Deviance Theory
suitability and increase capable guardianship (see, for example, Newman, 1973; jeffery, 1971; Washnis, 1976), while many biographical or autobiographical descriptions of illegal activities note that lawbreakers take into account the nature of property and/ or the structure of human activities as they go about their illegal work (see, e.g., Charnbliss, 1972; Klockars, 1974; Sutherland, 1937; Letkemann, 1973; Jackson, 1969; Martin, 1952; Maurer, 1964; Cameron, 1964; Williamson, 1968). Evidence that the spatia-temporal organization of society affects patterns of crime can be found in several sources. Strong variations in specific predatory crime rates from hour to hOllI, day to day, and month to month are reported often (e.g., Wollgang, 1958; Amir, 1971; Repetto, 1974; Scarr, 1972; FBI, 1975; 1976), and these variations appear to correspond to the various tempos of the related legitimate activities upon which they feed. Also at a microsociologicallevel, Short and Strodtbeck (1965: chaps. 5 and 11) describe opportunities for violent confrontations of gang boys and other community residents which arise in the context of community leisure patterns, such as "quarter parties" in black communities, and the importance, in the calculus of decision making employed by participants in such episodes, of low probabilities of legal intervention. In addition, a wealth of empirical evidence indicates strong spatial variations over community areas in crime and delinquency rates3 (for an excellent discussion and review of the literature on ecological studies of crimes, see Wilks, 1967). Recently, Albert Reiss (1976) has argued convincingly that these spatial variations (despite some claims to the contrary) have been supported consistently by both official and unofficial sources of data. Reiss further cites victimization studies which indicate that offenders are very likely to select targets not far from their Own residence (see USDj, 1974a; 1974b; 1974c). MACROLEVEL ANALYSES OF CRIME TRENDS AND CYCLES
Although details about how crime occurs are intrinsically interesting, the important analytical task is to learn from these details how illegal activities carve their niche within the larger system of activities. This task is not an easy one. For example, attempts by Bonger (1916), Durkheim (1951; 1966), Henry and Short (1954), and Fleisher (1966) to link the rate of illegal activities to the economic condition of a society have not been completely successful. Empirical tests of the relationships postulated in the above studies have produced inconsistent results which some observers view as an indication that the level of crime is not related systematically to the economic conditions of a society (Mansfield et al., 1974: 463; Cohen and Felson, 1979).
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
603
It is possible that the wrong economic and social factors have been employed in these macro studies o~ cr~e. Other rese~rchers have provided stimulating alternative descnptions of how SOCial change affects the criminal opportunity structure, thereby influencing crime rates in particular societies. For example, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, Patrick Colquhoun (1800) presented a d~tailed, lucid description and analysis of crime in the London metropolitan area and suggestions for its control. He assembled substantial evidence that London was experiencing a massive crime wave attributable to a great increment in the assemblage and movement of valuable goods through its ports and tenninals. A similar examination of crime in the period of the English industrial expansion was carried out by a modem historian, j.j. Tobias (1967), whose work on the history of crime in nineteenth century England IS perhaps the most comprehensive eff~rt t~ isolat~ those.elemen~ of so~al change affecting crime in an expandmg mdustrial nation. Tobms details how far-reaching changes in transportation, currency, technolo~ commerce, merchandising, poverty, housing, and the like, had tremendous repercussions on the amount and type of illegal activities co~tt~d in the nmeteenth century. His thesis is that structural transformations eIther facilitated or impeded the opporhmities to engage in illegal activities. in one of the few empirical studies of how recent social change affects the opporhmity structure for crime in the United States, Leroy Gould (1969) demonstrated that the increase in the circulation of money and the aVaIlability of automobiles between 1921 and 1965 apparently led to an increase in the rate of bank robberies and auto theftsr respectively. Gould's data suggest that these relationships are due more to the abundan~e of opportunities to perpetrate the crimes than to short-term fluctuations in economic activities. Although the sociological and historical studies cited in this secti?n have proVided some useful empi1'ical generalizations and important msights into the incidence of crime, it is fair to say that they hav.e not articulated systematically the theoretical linkages between routine legal activities and illegal endeavors. Thus, these studies cannot explain how changes in the larger social structure generate changes in the ~pportu nity to engage in predatory crime and hence account for cnme rate trends.4 To do so requires a conceptual framework such as that sketched in the preceding section. Before attempting to demon~trate th: feasib~ ity of this approach with macrolevel data, we examme avaIlable nucrolevel data for its consistency with the major assumptions of this approach.
604
New Directions in Deviance Theory
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson
MICRO LEVEL ASSUMPTIONS OF THE ROUTINE ACTIVITY ApPROACH
The theoretical approach taken here specifies that crime rate trends in the post-World War IT United States are related to patterns of what we have called routine activities. We define these as any recurrent and prevalent activities which provide for basic population and individual needs, whatever their biological or cultural origins. Thus routine activities would include formalized work, as well as the provision of standard food, shelter, sexual outlet, leisure, social interaction, learning and childrearing. These activities may go well beyond the minimal levels needed to prevent a population's extinction, so long as their prevalence and recurrence makes them a part of everyday life. Routine activities may occur (1) at home, (2) in jobs away from home, and (3) in other activities away from home. The latter may involve primarily household members or others. We shall argue that, since World War IT, the United State has experienced a major shift of routine activities away from the first category into the remaining ones, especially those nonhousehold activities involving nonhousehold members. In particular, we shall argue that this shift in the structure of routine activities increases the probability that motivated offenders will converge in space and time with suitable targets in the absence of capable guardians, hence contributing to significant increases in the direct-contact predatory crime rates over these years. If the routine activity approach is valid, then we should expect to find evidence for a number of empirical relationships regarding the nature and distribution of predatory violations. For example, we would expect routine activities performed within or near the home and among family or other primary groups to entail lower risk of criminal victimization because they enhance guardianship capabilities. We should also expect that routine daily activities affect the location of property and personal targets in visible and accessible places at particular times, thereby influencing their risk of victimization. Furthermore, by determining their size and weight and in some cases their value, routine production activities should affect the suitability of consumer goods for illegal removaL Finally, if the routine activity approach is useful for explaining the paradox presented earlier, we should find that the circulation of people and property, the size and weight of consumer items etc., will parallel changes in crime rate trends for the post-World War II United States. The veracity of the routine activity approach can be assessed by analyses of both rnicrolevel and macrolevel interdependencies of human activities. While consistency at the former level may appear noncontroupr<:;:::d
nr pupn o1-nr;011<: nnp nnnpthpip<:<: npprl<: tn <:hnur th"t rhp
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605
proach does not contradict existing data before proceeding to investigate the latter level.
EMPIRICAL ASSESSMENT CIRCUMSTANCES AND LOCATION OF OFFENSES
The routine activity approach specifies that household and family activities entail lower risk of criminal victimization than nonhouseholdnonfamily activities, despite the problems in measuring the former. 5 National estimates from large-scale government victimization surveys in 1973 and 1974 support this generalization (see methodological information in Hindelang et al., 1976: Appendix 6). Table 39.1 presents several incident-victimization rates per 100,000 population ages 12 and older. Clearly, the rates in Panels A and B are far lower at or near home than elsewhere and far lower among relatives than others. The data indicate that risk of victimization varies directly with social distance between offender and victim. Panel C of this table indicates, furthermore, that risk of lone victimization far exceeds the risk of victimization for groups. These relationships are strengthened by considering time budget evidence that, on the average, Americans spend 16.26 hours per day at home, 1.38 hours on streets, in parks, etc., and 6.36 hours in other places (Szalai, 1972:795). Panel D of Table 39.1 presents our estimates of victimization per billion person-hours spent in such 10cations. 15 for example, personal larceny rates (with contact) are 350 times higher at the hands of strangers in streets than at the hands of nonstrangers at home. Separate computations from 1973 victimization data (USDj, 1976: Table 48) indicate that there were two motor vehicle thefts per million vehiclehours parked at or near home, 55 per million vehicle-hours in streets, parks, playgrounds, school grounds or parking lots, and 12 per million vehicle-hours elsewhere. While the direction of these relationships is not surprising, their magnitudes should be noted. It appears that risk of criminal victimization varies dramatically among the CITClUIlStances and locations in which people place themselves and their property. TARGET SUITABILITY
Another assumption of the routine activity approach is that target suitability influences the occurrence of direct-contact predatory violations. Though we lack data to disaggregate all major components of target <:11ibhilihr (i_P .. V::ll11P. visihilitv. accessibility and inertia), together they
606
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
c
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imply that expensive and movable durables, such as vehicles and electronic appliances, have the highest risk of illegal removal. As a specific case in point, we compared the 1975 composition of stolen property reported in the Uniform Crime Report (FBI, 1976: Tables 26-7) with national data on personal consumer expenditures for goods (CEA, 1976: Tables 13-16) and to appliance industry estimates of the value of shipments the same year (Merchandising Week, 1976). We calculated that $26.44 in motor vehicles and parts were stolen for each $100 of these goods consumed in 1975, while $6.82 worth of electronic appliances were stolen per $100 consumed. Though these estimates are subject to error in citizen and police estimation, what is important here is their size relative to other rates. For example, only Bit worth of nondurables and 121t worth of furniture and nonelectronic household durables were stolen per $100 of each category consumed, the motor vehicle risk being, respectively, 330 and 220 times as great. Though we lack data on the "stocks" of goods subject to risk, these "flow" data clearly support our assumption that vehicles and electronic appliances are greatly overrepresented in thefts. The 1976 Buying Guide issue of Consumer Reports (1975) indicates why electronic appliances are an excellent retail value for a thief. For example, a Panasonic car tape player is worth $30 per lb., and a Phillips phonograph cartridge is valued at over $5,000 per lb., while large appliances such as refrigerators and washing machines are only worth $1 to $3 per lb. Not surprisingly, burglary data for L.".P. District of Columbia in 1969 (Scarr, 1972: Table 9) indicate that home entertainment items alone constituted nearly four times as many stolen items as clothing, food, drugs, liquor, and tobacco combined and nearly eight times as many stolen items as office supplies and equipment. In addition, 69% of national thefts classified in 1975 (FBI, 1976: Tables 1, 26) involve automobiles, their parts or accessories, and thefts from automobiles or thefts of bicycles. Yet radio and television sets plus electronic components and accessories totaled only 0.10% of the total truckload tonnage terminated in 1973 by intercity motor carriers, while passenger cars, motor vehicle parts and accessories, motorcycles, bicycles, and their parts, totaled only 5.5% of the 410 million truckload tons terminated (ICC, 1974). Clearly, portable and movable durables are reported stolen in great disproportion to their share of the value and weight of goods circulating in the United States. FAMILY ACTIVITIES AND CRIME RATES
One would expect that persons living in single-adult households and those employed outside the home are less obligated to confine their time h..,. t:...,...,..,il" ., ... ~;.t';-I-i",<" ~Hi~h; ... ]..,,..,.,,<"0]..,,..,.1.4,,, 'P..,...rn
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39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
tive, these persons and their households should have higher rates of predatory criminal victimization. We also expect that adolescents and young adults who are perhaps more likely to engage in peer group activities rather than family activities will have higher rates of criminal victimization. Finally, married persons should have lower rates than others. Tables 39.2 and 39.3 largely confirm these expectations (with the exception of personal larceny with contact). Examining these tables, we note that victimization rates appear to be related inversely to age and are lower for persons in "less active" statuses (e.g., keeping house, unable to work, retired) and persons in intact marriages. A notable exception is indicated in Table 39.2 where persons unable to work appear more likely to be victimized by rape, robbery and personal larceny with contact than are other "inactive persons." Unemployed persons also have unusually high rates of victimization. However, these rates are consistent with the routine activity approach offered here: the high rates of victimization suffered by the unemployed may reflect their residential proximity to high concentrations of potential offenders as well as their age and racial composition, while handicapped persons have high risk of personal victimization because they are less able to resist motivated offenders. Nonetheless, persons who keep house have noticeably lower rates of victimization than those who are employed, unemployed, in school or in the armed forces. As Table 39.3 indicates, burglary and robbery victimization rates are about twice as high for persons living in single-adult households as for other persons in each age group examined. Other victimization data (USDj, 1976: Table 21) indicate that, while household victimization rates tend to vary directly with household size, larger households have lower rates per person. For example, tlle total household victimization rates (including burglary, household larceny, and motor vehicle theft) per 1,000 households were 168 for single-person households and 326 for households containing six or more persons. Hence, six people distributed over six single-person households experience an average of 1,008 household victimizations, more than three times as many as one sixperson household. Moreover, age of household head has a strong relationship to a household's victimization rate for these crimes. For households headed by persons under 20, the motor vehicle theft rate is nine times as high, and the burglary and household larceny rates four times as high as those for households headed by persons 65 and over (USDj, 1976: Table 9). While the data presented in this section were not collected originally for the purpose of testing the routine activity approach, our efforts to rework them for these purposes have proven fruitful. The routine __ L.! __ ! .... _ _ . ___ .. _ _ _1_!
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I I I I I I I
609
610
New Directions in Deviance Theory
611
39. Lawrence E. Cahen and Marcus Felson
TABLE 39.3
ROBBERy-BuRGLARY VICTIMIZATION RATES BY AGES AND NUMBER OF ADULTS IN HOUSEHOLD, 1974 AND 1976 GENERAL SOCIAL SURVEY NUMBER OF ADULTS IN HOUSEHOLD
TWDOItMORE
ONE
ACE
RATIO
(140)
(112) (262)
0.095 0.079 0.061
(985) (826) (640)
2.11
56 and over
0.200 0.161 0.107
All ages
0.144
(514)
0.081
(2451)
1.78
18-35 36-55
(Numbcr~ in r~rentheses
2.04 1.76
,He the base for computing risk mtes.)
Source: Cillculilted from 1974 and 1976 Genera] Sodal Survey, N"tionai Opinion Reseilrch Center, University of ChicilgO.
tion, helps to accommodate within a rather simple and coherent analytical framework certain findings which, though not necessarily new, might otherwise be attributed only "descriptive" significance. In the next seclion, we examine macrosocial trends as they relate to trends in crime rates.
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CHANGING TRENDS IN ROUTINE ACTIVITY STRUCTURE AND PARALLEL TRENDS IN CRIME RATES The main thesis presented here is that the dramatic increase in the reported crime rates in the U .5. since 1960 is linked to changes in the routine activity structure of American society and to a corresponding increase in target suitability and decrease in guardian presence. If such a thesis has validity, then we should be able to identify these social trends and show how they relate to predatory criminal victimization rates. TRENDS IN HUMAN ACTIVITY PATTERNS
The decade 1960-1970 experienced noteworthy trends in the activities of the American population. For example, the percent of the populations consisting of female college students increased 118% (USBC, 1975: Table 225). Married female labor force participant rates increased 31% (USBC, _.- ---... . , . , . ' , .. ~--
612
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
New Directions in Deviilllce Theory
TABLE 39.4 PROPORTION OF HOUSEHOLDS UNATIENDED BY ANYONE 14 YEARS OLD OR OVER BY TIME OF DAY DURING FmST VISIT BY CENSUS BUREAU INTERVIEWER, 1960 AND 1971 NOVEMBER,1971
1960 TIME OF DAY
8:00-859 a.m. 9:00-9:59 a.m. 10:00-10:59 a.m. 11:00-11:59 a.m. 12:00-12:59 p.m. 1:OCJ.-]:59 p.m. 2:00-2:59 p.m 3:00-3:59 p.m. 4:00-4:59 p.m. 5:00-5:59 p.m. 6:00-6:59 p.m. 7:00-7:50 p.m. 8:00-8:59 p.m.
CENSUS
29% 29 31 32 32 31 33 30 28
CurmENT
PorULATION SURVEY
43
44 42 41 41 43 .!" _0
22 22
33 30 26 25
20 24
29 22
PERCENT
CHANGE
+48.9% +58 +36 +28 +28 +39 +30 +10 +7 +18 +14 +45 -8
Source: Cillcu!ilted from USBC (197Jb: Table A).
613
important 31 % increase in the percent of the population ages 15-24, age structu:e change. was only o~1e of many social trends occurring during the pe.nod, es~eCIally trends In the circulation of people and property in Amertcan sOClety? The importance of the changing activity structure is underscored by taking a bri~f look at demographic changes between the years 1970 and 1975, a penod of continuing crime rate increments. Most of the recent changes in ~ge structure relevant to crime rates already had occurred by 1970; mdeed, the proportion of the population ages 15-24 increased by only 6% between 1970 and 1975, compared with a 15% increase d~ring the five years 1965 to 1970. On the other hand, major changes In the Structure of routine activities continued during these years. For example, in only five years, the estimated proportion of the population consisting of husband-present, married women in the labor force households increased by 11 %, while the estimated number of nonhusband-wife households per 100,000 population increased from 9150 to 11,420, a 25% increase (USBC, 1976: Tables 50, 276; USBC, 1970:1975). At the same time, the percent of population enrolled in higher education increased 16% between 1970 and 1975. RELATED PROPERTY TRENDS AND THEIR RELATION TO HU~Lolli ACTIVITY PATTERNS
Man~ of the activ.ity trends mentioned above normally involve signifi-
individuals increased by 34% (USBC, 1975: Table 51; see also Kobrin, 1976). We gain some further insight into changing routine activity patterns by comparing hourly data for 1960 and 1971 on households ,,"attended by persons ages 14 or over when U.s. census interviewers first called (see Table 39.4). These data suggest that the proportion of households unattended at 8 A.M. increased by almost half between 1960 and 1971. One also finds increases in rates of out-af-town tTavel, which provides greater opporttmity for both daytime and nighttime burglary of residences. Between 1960 and 1970, there was a 72% increase in state and national park visits per capita (USBC, 1975), a 144% increase in the percent of plant workers eligible for three weeks vacation (BLS, 1975: Table 116), and a 184% increase in overseas travellers per 100,00 population (USBC, 1975: Table 366). The national Travel Survey, conducted as part of the U.S. Census Bureau's Census of Transportation, confinns the general trends, tallying an 81 % increase in the number of vacations taken by Americans from 1967 to 1972, a five-year period (USBC, 1973a: Introduction). The dispersion of activities away from households appears to be a major recent social change. Although this decade also experienced an
can~ Investments
u:
durable goods. For example, the dispersion of population across relatively mOre households (especially non-husband-wife households) enlarges the market for durable goods such as television sets and automobiles. Women participating in the labor force and both men and women enrolled in college provide a market for automobiles. Both work and travel often involve the purchase of major movable or portable durables and their use away from home. Considerable data are available which indicate that sales of consumer goods changed dramatically between 1960 and 1970 (as did ti1eir SIze and weight), hence providing more suitable property available for theft. For example, during this decade, constant-dollar personal con~umer expenditures in the United States for motor vehicles and parts ~creased by 71 %, while constant-dollar expenditures for other durables mcreased by 105% (calculated from CEA, 1976: Table B-16). In addition, electroruc household appliances and small houseware shipments increased from 56.2 to 119.7 million units (Electrical Merchalldisi11g Week, 1964;lvlerchmldlsmg Week, 1973). During the same decade, appliance import mcreased in value by 681 % (USBC, 1975: Table 1368).
614
New Directions in Deviance Theory
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
615
The same period appears to have spawned a revolution in small durable product design which further feeds the opportunity for crime to occur. Relevant data from the 1960 and 1970 Sears catalogs on the weight of many consumer durable goods were examined. Sears is the nation's largest retailer and its policy of purchasing and relabeling standard man-
ufactured goods makes its catalogs a good source of data on Widely merchandised consumer goods. The lightest television listed for sale in 1960 weighed 38Ibs., compared with 151bs. For 1970. Thus, the lightest televisions were 21fz times as heavy in 1960 as 1970. Similar trends are observed for dozens of other goods listed in the Sears catalog. Data from Consumer Reports Buying Guide, published in December of 1959 and 1969, show similar changes for radios, record players, slide projectors, tape
recorders, televisions, toasters, and many other goods. Hence, major declines in weight betw-een 1960 and 1970 were quite significant for these and other goods, which suggests that the consumer goods market may
be producing many more targets suitable for theft. In general, one finds rapid growth in property suitable for illegal removal and in household and individual exposure to attack during the years 1960-1975. RELATED TRENDS IN BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS
Of course, as households and individuals increased their ownership of small durables, businesses also increased the value of the merchandise which they transport and sell as well as the money involved in these transactions. Yet the Census of Business conducted in 1958, 1963, 1967, and 1972 indicate that the number of wholesale, retail, service, and public warehouse establishments (including establishments ovvned by large organizations) was a nearly constant ratio of one for every 16 persons in the United States. Since more goods and money were distributed over a relatively fixed number of business establishments, the tempo of business activity per establishment apparently was increasing. At the same time, the percent of the population employed as sales clerks or salesmen in retail trade declined from 1.48% to 1.27%, between 1960 and 1970, a 14.7% decline (USBC, 1975: Table 589).
Though both business and personal property increased, the changing pace of activities appears to have exposed the latter to greater relative risk of attack, whether at home or elsewhere, due to the dispersion of goods among many more households, while concentrating goods in business establishments. However, merchandise in retail establishments with heavy volume and few employees to guard it probably is exposed to major increments in risk of illegal removal than is most other business property.
TABLE 39.5
OFFENSE ANALYSIS
TRENDS FOR ROBBERY, BURGLARY,
LARCENY AND MURDER; UNITED STATES,
1960-1975
il A. Robberies Highway robbery Residential robbery Commercial robbery Totals
1960 52.6 8.0 39.4 100.0
1965 57.0 10.1 32.9 100.0
1970 59.8 13.1 27.1 100.0
B. Burglaries
1960 15.6 24.4 60.0 100.0
1965 24.5
1970 31.7
25.2 50.2
25.8
1960 6.0 94.0 100.0
Residential Residential nighttime Commercial Totals C. Larcenies
Shoplifting Other Totals
D. Murders Relative killings Romance, arguments b Felon types': Totals
1963 31.0 51.0 17.0 100.0
1975 33.2 30.5
42.5 100.0
..QQ,;l
1965 7.8
1970
92.2
....9illl. 100.0 1970
1975 11.3 88.7 100.0
99.9
100.0 1965 31.0 48.0
9.2
100.0
1975
23.3
22.4
47.9
45.2 32.4 100.0
21.0
28.8
100.0
100.0
Source: Offense analysis from UCR, various years. "Excluding miscellanl"ous robberies. The 1975 distribution omittl"d due to app~renl insl~bility of post-1970 data. bIncludes romantic triangles, lovers' quarrels and arguments.
COMPOSITION OF CRIME TRENDS
U these changes in the circulation of people and property are in f~ct related to crime trends, the composition of the latter should reflect this. We expect relatively greater increase~ in pe:s~n~l ar:d hous~hold vi~~ ization as compared with most busmess Vlctimizations, whIle shoplifting should increase more rapidly than other type~ of thefts from businesses. We expect personal offenses at the hands of strangers to manifest greater
increases than such offenses at the hands of nonstrangers. Fmally, reSIdential burglary rates should increase more in daytime than night~e. The available time series on the composition of offenses confrrm these expectations. For example, Table 39.5 shows that commercial bur-
616
II
New Directions in Deviance Theory
glaries declined from 60% to 36% of the total, while daytime residential burglaries increased from 16% to 33%. Unlike the other crimes against business, shoplifting increased its share. Though we lack trend data on the circumstances of other violent offenses, murder data confirm our expectations. Between 1963 and 1975, felon-type murders increased from 17% to 32% of the total. Compared WiU1 a 47% increase in the rate of relative killings in this period, we calculated a 294% increase in the murder rate at the hands of known or suspected felon types. Thus the trends in the composition of recorded crime rates appear to be highly consistent with the activity structure trends noted earlier. In the next section we apply the routine activity approach in order to model crime rate trends and social change in the post World War IT United States.
THE RELATIONSHIP OF THE HOUSEHOLD ACTIVITY RATIO TO FIVE ANNUAL OFFICIAL INDEX CRIME RATES IN THE UNITED STATES, 1947-1974 In this section, we test the hypothesis that aggregate official crime rate trends in the United States vary directly over time with the dispersion of activities away from family and household. The limitations of annual time series data do not allow construction of direct measures of changes in hourly activity patterns, or quantities, qualities and movements of exact stocks of household durable goods, but the Current Population Survey does provide related time series on labor force and household structure. From these data, we calculate annually (beginning in 1947) a household activity ratio by adding the number of married, husbandpresent female labor force participants (source: BLS, 1975: Table 5) to the number of non-husband-wife households (source: USBC, 1947-1976), divicling this Sum by the total number of households in the US. (Source: USBC, 1947-1976). This calculation provides an estimate of the proportion of American households in year t expected to be most highly exposed to risk of personal and property victimization due to the dispersion of their activities away from family and household and/or their likelihood of owning extra sets of durables subject to high risk of attack. Hence, the household activity ratio should vary directly with official index crime rates. Our empirical goal in this section is to test this relationship, with controls for those variables which other researchers have linked empirically to crime rate trends-in the United States. Since various researchers have found such trends to mcrease with the proportion of the population :_ .. _____ ...l • ___ • _ _ _ ...l._t .. ______ f"C_ ••
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39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
617
and Wellford, 1968; Wellford, 1973), we include the population ages 1524 per 100,000 resident population in year t as our first control variable (source: USBC, various years). Others (e.g., Brenner, 1976a; 1976b) have found unemployment rates to vary directly with official crime rates over time, although this relationship elsewhere has been shown to be empirically questionable (see Mansfield et aI., 1974: 463; Cohen and Felson, 1979). Thus, as our second, control variable, we take the standard annual unemployment rate (per 100 persons ages 16 and over) as a measure of the business cycle (source: BLS, 1975). Four of the five crime rates that we utilize here (forcible rape, aggravated assault, robbery and burglary) are tal,en from FBI estimates of offenses per 100,000 US. population (as revised and reported in OMB, 1973). We exclude larceny-theft due to a major definitional change in 1960 and auto theft due to excessive multicollinearity in the analysis. s For our homicide indicator we employ the homicide mortality rate taken from the vital statistics data collected by the Bureau of the Census (various years). The latter rate has the advantage of being collected separately from the standard crime reporting system and is thought to contain less measurement error (see Bowere and Pierce, 1975). Hence, this analysis of official index crime rates includes three violent offenses (homicide, forcible rape, and aggravated assault), one property offense (burglary), and one offense which involves both the removal of property and the threat of violence (robbery). The analysis thus includes one offense thought to have relatively low reporting reliability (forcible rape), one thought to have relatively high reliability (homicide), and three others having relatively intermediate levels of reporting quality (Ennis, 1967). Since official crime rates in year t are likely to reflect some accumulation of criminal opportunity and inclinations over several years, one should not expect these rates to respond solely to the level of the independent variables for year t. A useful model of cumulative social change in circumstances such as this is the difference equation, which can be estimated in two forms (see Goldberg, 1958). One form takes the first difference (Y/-Yt- 1) as the dependent variable-in this case, the change in the official crime rate per 100,000 population between year t-1 and year t. Alternatively, one can estimate the difference equation in autoregressive form by taking the offical crime rate in year t as a function of the exogenous predictors plus the official crime rate in year t-1 on the right-hand side of the equation. (See Land, 1978, for a review of these and other methods and for references to related literature.) Both forms are estimable with ordinary least squares methods, which we employ for the years 1947 through 1974. The N is 28 years for all but the homicide ...... ~ .... I: ....... ...l-.;~l-. ...... l-.1;..,"'-I-; ........ 1".-.." ... ~~ ...................
1\.( ...... '1£:
618
New Directions in Deviance TIleory
Even if a positive relationship between the household activity ratio and the official crime rates is observed, with controls for age and unemployment, we are open to the charge that this may be a spurious consequence of autocorrelation of disturbances, that is, the possibility that residuals are systematically related for nearby time points. While spurious relationships are a risk one also takes in cross-sectional regression analysis, time-series analysts have devised a variety of methods for monitoring and adjusting for spuriousness due to this autocorrelation including the Durbin and Watson (1951) statistic, Durbin's h statisti~ (Ourbin, 1970), the Griliches (1967) criterion, as well as Cochrane and Orcutt (1949) corrections. We employ (but do not report in detail) these methods to check for the likelihood that the observed relationship is spurious. (See Land, 1978, for a review of such tests and the related literature on their applicability and robustness; see Theil, 1971, for a methodological review.) FINDINGS
Our time-series analysis for the years 1947-1974 consistently revealed positive and statistically significant relationships between the household activity ratio and each official crime rate change. Whichever offical crime rate is employed, this finding occurs-whether we take the first difference for each crime rate as exogenous or estimate the equation in autoregressive form (with the lagged dependent variable on the righthand side of the equation); whether we include or exclude the unemployment variable; whether we take the current scales of variables or convert them to natural log values; whether we employ the age structure· variable as described or alter the ages examined (e.g., 14-24, 15-19, etc.). In short, the relationship is positive and significant in each case. Before calculating the difference equations, we regressed each crime rate in year t on the three independent variables for year t This ordinary structural equation also produced consistent positive and significant coefficients for the routine activity coefficient, the total variance explained ranges from 84% to 97%. However, the Durbin-Watson statistics for these equations indicated high risk of autocorrelation, which is hardly surprising since tlley ignore lagged effects. Reestimated equations taking first differences as endogenous reduced the risk of autocorrelation significantly (and also reduced variance explained to between 35% and 77%). These equations also consistently produce significant positive coefficients for the household activity variable. When unemployment is included in these equations, its coefficients are all negative and near zero.
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
619
The top of the Table 39.6 presents regression estimates of first differences for five official crime rates, with the age structure and household activity variables in year t as the only predictors. Again, the household activity coefficients are consistently positive, with t ratios always significant with a one-tailed test. Except for the aggravated assault equation, the household activity variable has a t ratio and standardized coefficient greater than that of the age structure variable. The standardized coefficients for the household activity variable range from.42 to .72, while the age structure coefficients are consistently positive. In general, the household activity variable is a stronger predictor of official crime rate trends than the age structure. The equations.in the top panel of Table 39.6 generally have lower variance explained but also lower risk of autocorrelation of disturbances than those reported above. For all five equations, the Durb.in-Watson statistic allows acceptance of the null hypothesis that autocorrelation is absent at the 1% level. A 5% level (which increases the likelihood of proving the statistic nonzero) allows us neither to accept nor reject the null hypothesis that autocorrelation is absent in the homicide and robbery equations. Though autocorrelation has not been proven to exist in these five equations, its risk may be sufficient in two to motivate further efforts at equation estimation (see bottom panel of Table 39.6). We estimated the equations in autoregresive form to see if the risk abates. Since the Dmbin-Watson statistic was not designed for evaluating autocorrelation in these equations, we calculated Durbin's h, a statistic specifically designed for equations estimated with a lagged dependent variable (Ourbin, 1970), and recently found to be robust for small samples (Maddala and Rao, 1973). This statistic allows acceptance of the null hypotheslS (at both 1% and 5% levels) that autocorrelation is absent for all five equations. Application of the Griliches (1967) criterion further allows acceptance of each equation as manifesting distributing lags rather than serial correlation. We also employed the Cochrane-Orcutt (1949) iterative procedure to calculate a correction estimate for any autocorrelatio~ .present. The resulting correction for the household activity coeffICIent proves minimal in all five cases. Finally, we calculated each of the above equations for natural log values of the relevant variables, finding again that the household activity coefficient was consistently positive and statistically significant and the risk of autocorrelation reduced still further. The positive and significant relationship between the household activity variable and the official crime rates is robust and appears to hold for both rnacro- and microlevel datai it explains five crime rate trends, as well as the changing composition of official crime rates reported in Table
620
New Directions in Deviance Theory
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Mareus Felson
621
39.5, These results suggest that routine activities may indeed provide the opportunity for many illegal activities to occur.
DISCUSSION
1
In our judgment many conventional theories of crime (the adequacy of which usually is evaluated by cross-sectional data, or no data at all) have difficulty accounting for the annual changes in crime rate trends in the post-World War IT United States. These theories may prove useful in explaining crime trends during other periods, within specific communilies, or in particular subgroups of the population. Longitudinal aggregate data for the United States, however, indicate that the trends for many of the presumed causal variables in these theoretical structures are in a direction opposite to those hypothesized to be the causes of crime. For example, during the decade 1960-1970, the percent of the population below the low-income level declined 44% and the unemployment rate declined 186%. Central city population as a share of the whole population declined slightly, while the percent of foreign stock declined 0.1 %, etc. (See USBC, 1975: 654, 19, 39). On the other hand, the convergence in time and space of three elements (motivated offenders, suitable targets, and the absence of capable guardians) appears useful for understanding crime rate trends, 'The lack of any of these elements is sufficient to prevent the occurrence of a successful direct-contact predatory crime, The convergence in time and space of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians can lead to large increases in crime rates without any increase or change in the structural conditions that motivate individuals to engage in crime. Presumably, had the social indicators of the variables hypothesized to be the causes of crime in conventional theories changed in the direction of favoring increased crime in the post World War IT United States, the increases in crime rates likely would have been even more staggering than those which were observed, In any event, it is our belief that criminologists have underemphasized the importance of the convergence of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians in explaining recent increases in the crime rate. Furthermore, the effects of the convergence in time and space of these elements may be multiplicative rather than additive. That is, their convergence by a fixed percentage may produce increases in crime rates far greater than that fixed percentage, demonstrating how some relatively modest social trends can contribute to some relatively large changes in crime rate trends, The fact that logged variables improved our equations (moving Durbin-Watson values closer to I'ideal" levels) lends ______ ->..1._
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~
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Those few investigations of cross-sectional data which include household indicators produce results similar to ours. For example, Ron-
cek (1975) and Choldin and Roncek (1976) report on block-level data for San Diego, Cleveland and Peoria and indicate that the proportion
of a block's households which are primary individual households consistently offers the best or nearly the best predictor of a block's crime rate. This relationship persisted after they controlled for numerous social variables, including race, density, age and poverty. Thus the association between household structure and risk of criminal victimization has been observed in individual-level and block-level cross-sectional data, as well as aggregate national time-series data. Without denying the importance of factors motivating offenders to engage in crime, we have focused specific attention upon violations themselves and the prerequisites for their occurrence. However, the routine activity approach might in the future be applied to the analysis of offenders and their inclinations as well. For example, the structure of
primary group activity may affect the likelihood ti,at cultural transmission or social control of criminal inclinations will occur, while the structure of the community may affect the tempo of criminogenic peer group activity. We also may expect that circumstances favorable for carrying out violations contribute to criminal inclinations in the long run by rewarding these inclinations. We further suggest that the routine activity framework may prove useful in explaining why the criminal justice system, the community and the family have appeared so ineffective in exerting social control since 1960. Substantial increases in the opportunity to carry out predatory violations may have undermined society's mechanisms for social control. For example, it may be difficult for institutions seeking to increase the certainty, celerity and severity of punishment to compete with structural changes resulting in vast increases in the certainty, celerity and value of rewards to be gained from illegal predatory acts. It is ironic that the very factors which increase the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of life also may increase the opportunity for predatory violations. For example, automobiles provide freedom of movement to offenders as well as average citizens and offer vulnerable targets for theft. College enrollment, female labor force participation, urbanization, suburbanization, vacations, and new electronic durables provide various
opportunities to escape the confines of the household while they increase the risk of predatory victimization. Indeed, the opportunity for predatory crime appears to be enmeshed in the opportunity strucrure for
legitimate activities to such an extent iliat it might be very difficult to root out substantial amounts of crime without modifying much of our
way of life. Rather than assuming that predatory crime is simply an in-
-
I
I I
I
dicator of social breakdown, one might take it as a byproduct of freedom and prosperity as they manifest themselves in the routine activities of
everyday life.
NOTES 1. Though official data severely underestimate crime, they at least provide a rough indicator of trends over time in the volume of several major felonies. The possibility that these data also reflect trends in rates at which offenses are reported to the police has motiva ted extensive victimology research (see Nettler, 1974; and Hindelang, 1976, for a review). This work consistently finds that seriousness of offense is the strongest determinant of citizen reporting to law enforcement officials (Skogan, 1976: 145; Hindelang, 1976: 401). Hence the upward trend in official crime rates since 1960 in the U.S. may reflect increases in bOlh the volume and seriousness of offenses. Though disaggregating these hN'o components may not be feasible, one way wish to interpret observed trends as generated largely by both. 2. The analytical distinction behveen target and guardian is not important in those cases where a personal target engages in self-protection from directcontact predatory violations. We leave open for the present the question of whether a guardian is effective or ineffective in all situations. We also allow that various guardians may primarily supervise offenders, targets or both. These are questions for future examination. 3. One such ecolOgical study by Sarah Boggs (1965) presents some similar ideas in distinguishing familiarity of offenders with their targets and profitability of targets as two elements of crime occurrence. Bogg's work stands apart from much research on the ecology of crime in its consideration of crime occurrence rates separately from offender rates. The former consist of the number of offenses committed in a given area per number of suitable targets within that area (as estimated by various indicators). The latter considers the residence of offenders in computing the number of offenders per unit of population. Boggs examines the correlations between crime occurrence rates and offender rates for several offenses in St. Louis and shows that the hN'o are often independent. It appears from her analysis that bOtll target and offender characteristics play a central role in the location of illegal activity. 4. The concept of the opportunity for crime contained in the above research and in this study differs conSiderably from the traditional sociolOgical usage of the differelltial opportunity concept. For example, Cloward and OhIin (1960) employed this term in discussing how legitimate and illegitimate opportunities affect the resolution of adjustment problems leading to gang delinquency. From their viewpoint, this resolution depends upon the kind of social support for one or another type of illegitimate activity that is given at different points in the social structure (Cloward and Ohlin,
624
New Directions in Deviance Theory
1960: 151). Rather than circlUtlStantial determinants of crime, they use differential opportunity to emphasize structural features which motivate offenders to perpetrate certain types of crimes. Cloward and Ohlin are largely silent on the interaction of this motivation with target suitability and guardianship as this interaction influences crime rates. 5. Recent research indicates the existence of substantial quantities of family violence which remains outside of VCR data (see annotated bibliography of family violence in Lystad, 1964). While we cannot rule out the W(elihood that much family violence is concealed from victimization surveys, the latter capture information absent from police data and still indicate that nonfamily members are usually much more dangerous than family members are to each other (see text). Also, when family violence leads to death, its suppression becomes quite difficult. TIle murder circumstances data indicate that about two-thirds of killings involve nonrelatives. Without denying the evidence that the level of family violence is far greater than police reports would indicate, available data also suggest that time spent in family activities within households incurs less risk of victimization than many alternative activities in other places. In addition, many of the most commOll offenses (such as robbery and burglary) always have been recognized as usually involving nonfamily members. 6. Billion person-hours can easily be conceptualized as 1,000,000 persons spending 1,000 hours each (or about 42 days) in a given location (Szalai, 1972:795). Fox obtained these data from a 1966 time budget study in 44 American cities. The study was carried out by the Survey Research Center, the University of Michigan. We combined four subsamples in computing our figures. We combined activities into three locations, as follows: (1) at or just outside home; (2) at another's home, restaurants or bars, or indoor leisure; (3) in streets, parks, or outdoor leisure. Our computing formula was Q = [(R-IO') + (A' 365)] '10.' where Q is the risk per billion person-hours; R is the victimization rate, reported per 105 persons in Hindelang et a1. (1976: Table 318); A is the hours spent per location calculated from Szalai (1972: 795); 365 is the multiplier to cover a year's exposure to risk, and 10 9 converts risk per person-hour to billion person-hours. 7. While the more sophisticated treatments of the topic have varied somewhat in their findings, most recent studies attempting to link crime rate increases to the changing age structure of tile American population have found that the latter account for a relatively limited proportion of the general crime trend (see, for example, Sagi and Wellford, 1968; Ferdinand, 1970; and Welliord, 1973). 8. The auto theft rate lagged one year correlated quite strongly with the predictor variables. This multicollinearity impaired our difference equation analysis, although we again found consistently positive coefficients for the household activity· ratio. We were able to remove autocorrelation by logging all variables and' including the unemployment as a control, but do _____ ._t.-: __ _ __
~
_ _ _ _ -..I.
~L
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson
625
REFERENCES Amir, Menachem 1971 Patterns of Forcible Rape. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Boggs, Sarah 1965 "Urban crime patterns." American Sociological Review 30:899-905. Bonger, W. A. 1916 Criminality and Economic Conditions. Boston: Little, Brown. Bowers, W.J. and Glen L. Pierce 1975 "The illusion of deterrence of Isaac Ehrlich's research on capital Punishment." Yale Law JoumaI85:187-208. Brenner, Harvey 1976a Estimating the Social Costs of National Economic Policy: Implica._ fions for Mental and Physical Health and Criminal A~gression. j)aper no. 5, Joint Economic Committee, Congress of the Umted States. Washington, D.C: U.S. Government Printing Office. 1976b Effects of the National Economy on Criminal Aggression IT. Fin
626
New Directions in Deviance Theory
Consumer Reports Buying Guide 1959 Consumer Reports (December). Mt. Vemon: Consumers Union. 1969 Consumer Reports (December). Mt Vemon: Consumers Union. 1975 Consumer Reports (December). Mt. Vemon: Consumers Union.
Council of Economic Advisors (CEA) 1976 The Economic Report of the President. Washington, D.e.: V.S, Government Printing Office. OurbID, J. 1970 Testing for serial correlation when least squares regressors are lagged dependent variables." Econometrica 38:410-21.
Durbin, J., and G.S. Watson 1951 "Testing for serial correlation in least squares regression, n," Biometrika 38:159-78. Durkheim, Emile 1951 Suicide: A study in Sociology. New York: Free Press. 1966 The Division of Labor in Society. New York: Free Press. Electrical Merchandising Week 1964 Statistical and Marketing Report (January). New York: Billboard Publications. Ennis, PiUlip H. 1967 "Criminal victimization in the US.: a report of a national survey, field surveys n." The President's Commission of Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice. Washington, ne.: us. Government Printing Office. Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) 1975 Crime in the D.S.: Uniform Crime Report. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. 1976 Crime in the U.s.: Uniform Crime Report. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Ferdinand, Theodore N. 1970 "Demographic shifts and criminality." British Journal of Criminology 10:169-75. Fleisher, Belton M. 1966 The Economics of Delinquency. Chicago: Quadrangle. Fox, JamesA 1976 An Econometric Analysis of Crime Data. Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Sociology, University of Pennsylvania. Ann Arbor: University Microfilms. Glaser, Daniel 1971 Social Deviance. Chicago: Markham Goldberg, Samuel 1958 Introduction to Difference Equations. New York: Wiley.
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Gould, Leroy 1969 "The changing structure of property crime in an affluent SOciety." Social Forces 48:50-9. Griliches, Z. 1967 "Distributed lags: a survey." Econometrica 35:16-49. Guerry, A.M. 1833 "Essai sur la statistique morale de la France." Westminster Review 18:357. Hawley, Amos 1950 Human Ecology: A Theory of Community Structure. New York: Ronald. Henry, A.F. and j.F. Short 1954 Suicide and Homicide. New York: Free Press.
Hindeiang, Michael j. 1976 Criminal Victimization in Eight American Cities: A Descriptive Analysis of Common Theft and Assault. Cambridge: Ballinger. Hindelang, Michael J., Christopher S. Dunn, Paul Sutton and AIison L. Aumick 1976 Sourcebook of Criminal Justice Statistics-1975. U.S. Dept. OfJustice, Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. 1977 Sourcebook of Criminal Justice Statistics-1976. u.s. Dept. Of Justice, Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) 1974 Annual Report: Freight Commodity Statistics of Class I Motor Carriers of Property Operative in Intercity Service. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Jackson, Bruce 1969 A Thief's Primer. New York Macmillan. jeffery, C. R. 1971 Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design. Beverly Hills: Sage. Klockars, Carl B. 1974 The Professional Fence. New York Free Press. Kobrin, Frances E. 1976 "The primary individual and the family: changes in living arrangements in the U.S. since 1940." Journal of Marriage and the Family 38:233-9. Land, Kenneth C. 1978 "Modelling macro social change." Paper presented at annual meeting of the American Socioloe:ical Associatinn. S;m Fr
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Land, Kenneth e. and Marcus Felson 1976 "A general framework for building dynamic macro social indicator models: including an analysis of changes in crime rates and police expenditures." American Journal of Sociology 82:565-604.
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1977b Crime-Specific Analysis: An Empirical Examination of Burglary Offense and Offender Characteristics. U.S. Dept. Of Justice, Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. Analytical Report 12. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office.
Letkemann, Peter 1973 Crime as Work Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall.
Quetelet, Adolphe 1842 A Treatise on Man. Edinburgh: Chambers.
Lystad, Mary 1974 An Annotated Bibliography: Violence at Home. DHEW Publication No. (ADM 75-136). Washington, D.C.: U.5. Government Printing Office.
Reiss, Albert J. 1976 "Settling the frontiers of a pioneer in American criminology: Henry McKay." Pp. 64-88 in James F. Short, Jr. (ed.), Delinquency, Crime, and Society. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Maddala, C.S., and A. S. &"10 1973 "Tests for serial correlation in regression models with lagged dependent variables and serially correlated errors." Econometrica 41:761-74.
Reppetto, Thomas J. 1974 Residential Crime. Cambridge: Ballinger.
Mansfield, Roger, Leroy Gould, and J. Zvi Namenwirth 1974 "A Socioeconomic model for the prediction of societal rates of property theft." Social Forces 52:462-72. Martin, John Bower 1952 My Life in Crime. New York: Harper. Maurer, David W. 1964 Whiz Mob. New Haven: College and University Press. Merchandising Week 1973 Statistical and Marketing Report (February). New York: Billboard Publications. 1976 Statistical and Marketing Report (March). New York: Billboard Publications. National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence 1969 Crimes of Violence. Vo113. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Nettler, Gwynn 1974 Explaining Crime. New York: McGraw-Hill. Newman, Oscar 1973 Defensible Space: Crime Prevention Through Urban Design. New York: Macmillan. Office of Management and the Budget (OMB) 1973 Social Indicators 1973. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Pope, Carl E. 1977a Crime-Specific Analysis: The Characteristics of Burglary Incidents. U.S. Dept . .of Justice, Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. Analytic Report 10. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Government Printing Office.
Roncek, Dennis 1975 Crime Rates and Residential Densities in Two Large Cities. Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Sociology, University of illinois, Urbana. Sagi, Phillip e. and Charles E. Wellford 1968 "Age composition and patterns of change in criminal statistics." Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science. 59:29-36. Scarr, Harry A. 1972 Patterns of Burglary. U.S. Department of Justice, Law Enforcement Assistance Administration. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Sears Catalogue 1960 Chicago: Sears. 1970 Chicago: Sears. Shaw, Clifford R, Henry D. McKay, Frederick Zorbaugh and Leonard S. Cottrell 1929 Delinquency Areas. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Short, James E, and Fred Strodlbeck 1965 Group Process and Gang Delinquency. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Skogan, Wesley G. 1976 "The victims of crime: some material findings." Pp. 131-48 in Anthony L. Guenther (ed.), Criminal Behavior in Social Systems. Chicago: Rand McNally. Sutherland, Edwin H. 1937 The Professional Thief. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Szalai, Alexander (ed.) 1972 The Use of Tune: Daily Activities of Urban and Suburban PopUlaHons in Twelve Countries. The Hague: Mouton. Thei!, Henri lQ71
Prinrinlp<: nf Frnnnmpmr<; Npw Ynrl(' Wilpv.
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V Clarke
631
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~eli~ary Report of the Impact Cities, Crime Survey Results aslungton, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistance Admin' t ti . (NC)lSS). IS Ta on 1974b C' , nme ill the Nation's Five Largest Cities: Advance Report lAr hin ton DC, Law Enf tA . . nas g1974c Ciline~ " . o~cemen SSlStance Administration (NC]ISS). y timizan~ Victims.. A Report on the Day ton-San Jose Pilot Survey of ation. Washington, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistance Ad rrurustration. 1976 Criminal Victimizations in the V.S., 1973 Washin fo~ce~ent Assistance Administration (NCJISS) gton, D.e.: Law En1977 Cnmmal Victimizatio . th VS. : p' d' . ns me ... A Companson of 1974 and 1975 m. mgs. Washington, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistan Ad . . tration. (NCIISS). ce nurus1974a
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Washnis, George J. 1976 Citizen Involve
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40 Understanding Crime Displacement: An Application of Rational Choice Theory DEREK B. CORNISH and RONALD V. CLARKE The model of the offender as a decision maker underlies much criminological work recently undertaken by psychologists, economists, and sociologists of deviance (Clarke and Cornish, 1985; Cornish and Clarke, 1986a). This "rational choice" perspective on crime assumes that offenders seek to benefit themselves by their criminal behaviori that this involves the maldng of decisions and choices, however rudimentary on occasions these choices might be; and that these processes, constrained as they are by time, the offender's cognitive abilities, and by the availability of relevant information, exhibit limited rather than normative rationality. Our own formulation of rational choice theory was founded on the additional premise that the decision processes and the factors taken into account are likely to vary greatly at the different stages of decision making and among different crimes. For this reason, we drew attention to the needs both to be crime-specific when analyzing criminal choices and to treat decisions relating to the various stages of criminal involvement in particular crimes (initial involvement, continuation, deSistance) separately from those, such as target selection, relating to the criminal event itself (Clarke and Cornish, 1985; Cornish and Clarke, 1986a).
A RATIONAL CHOICE PERSPECTIVE ON CRIME DISPLACEMENT Our intention in developing an emphasis upon criminal decision making was to provide a general framework for thinking about the prevention and deterrence of crime, but our particular interest in rational choice theory arose out of work on "situational" crime prevention-a range of preventive measures, including defensible space architecture, target-hardening, and neighborhood watch, designed to reduce the opportunities for, and increase the risks of, committing specific kinds of crime (Clarke, 1983). Despite evidence of its utility, critics have seized upon one apparent weakness of the approach: that preventive measures which increase the difficulties of a particular crime will mereReprinted from Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke, "Understanding Criminal Displacement: An Application of Rational Choice Theory," Criminology, vo!. 25, no. 4 (1987), pp. 933-947. By permiSSion of The American Society of Criminology.
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
ly result in criminal activity being "displaced"-for example, to other targets, times, places, or types of crime (Reppetto, 1976; Gabor, 1981). Crucial to this objection is the belief that, to the offender, many if not most crimes are functionally equivalent-a view that derives from the traditional hydraulic view of offending as the product of enduring criminal drives or dispositions (Cornish and Clarke, 1986b). Crucial to the viability of situational approaches, on the other hand, is the contrasting view that displacement is far from inevitable and occurs only under particular conditions. Rational choice theory assumes that offenders respond selectively to characteristics of particular offenses-in particular, to their opportunities, costs, and benefits-in deciding whether or not to displace their attentions elsewhere. Indeed, since the existence of criminal dispositions is questioned, so too is the corresponding notion of criminal "energies" which have to be displaced into alternative actions. If frustrated from committing a particular crime, the offender is not compelled to seek out another crime nor even a noncriminal solution. He may simply desist from any further action at all, rationalizing his loss of income (for example) in various ways: "It was good while it lasted"; "I would have ended up getting caught"; and so on. Such an analysis is consistent with the available empirical research, which is indicative of the contingent nature of displacement. For example, the fitting of steering column locks to all cars in West Germany in 1960 brought about a 60% reduction in car thefts, whereas their introduction only to new cars in Great Britain displaced theft to the older, unprotected vehicles (Mayhew, Clarke, Sturman, and Hough, 1976). Again, while a variety of security measures dramatically reduced airliner hijackings in the early 1970s (Wilkinson, 1977), a police "crackdown" on subway robberies in New York City displaced robberies to the street (Chaiken, Lawless, and Stevenson, 1974). Research of this kind, however, which merely analyzes crime patterns, is likely to yield only limited information about displacement. This is because, just as reductions in target crimes brought about by situational measures may be modest and difficult to detect, especially when crime as a whole is rising, so, too, evidence of displacement may lie concealed within the same overall crime statistics. Moreover, such research on its own fails to provide an adequate explanation for the occurrence or absence of displacement, although reasons may sometimes be inferred. Given these problems, additional ways of investigating displacement are needed and, in particular, studies which focus upon the offender's own explanations for his decisions and choices.
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THE CONCEPT OF CHOICE.STRUCTURING PROPERTIES A more promising approach to the study of displacement is suggested by rational choice theory's emphasis upon the need to adopt a crimespecific focus when attempting to explain or prevent criminal behavior. Rather than assuming that potential offenders are fueled by a general disposition to offend which makes them relatively indifferent to the nature of the offense they commit, the rational choice perspective asserts that specific crimes are chosen and committed for specific reasons. Decisions to offend, in other words, are influenced by the characteristics of both offenses and offenders, and are the product of interactions between the two. Thus, the final decision to become involved in a particular crime is the outcome of an appraisal process which (however cursory) evaluates the relative merits of a range of potential courses of action, comprising all those thought likely in the offender's view to achieve his or her current objective (for example, for money, sex, or excitement). It follows that an understanding of the factors which the offender takes into account when performing this rudimentary cost-benefit analysis is necessary. These factors relate both to offense and offender characteristics but, for the present, can be usefully viewed as those properties of o£fenses (such as type and amount of payoff, perceived risk, skills needed, and so on) which are perceived by the offender as being especially salient to his or her goals, motives, experience, abilities, expertise, and preferences. Such properties provide a basis for selecting among alternative courses of action and, hence, effectively strHctllre the offender's choice. The characteristics of offenses which render them differentially attractive to particular individuals or subgroups (or to the same individuals and groups at different times) have therefore been termed cllDiee-structllring properties. It follows that the readiness with which the offender will be prepared to substitute one o££ense for another will depend upon the extent to which alternative offenses share characteristics which the offender considers salient to his or her goals and abilities. A recognition of the contingent, crime-specific nature of criminal decision making therefore has important implications for an understanding of displacement. In the absence of information from offenders, some a priori selection of properties thought likely to be salient to offender decision making has to be made. For illustrative purposes, this is attempted later in the paper in relation to two broad groups of offenses-those of theft involving cash and of illegal substance abuse. TIle concept of choice-
I:
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
structuring properties was first employed, however, in the attempt to clarify policy issues relating to gambling and suicide (Cornish and Clarke, in press). In the case of gambling (and following the work of Weinstein and Deitch, 1974), choice-structuring properties such as number and location of gambling outlets, frequency of events on which bets can be made, time elapsing before payment of winnings, range of odds and stakes, degree of personal involvement, skills needed or perceived, and "nerve" required, were employed to identify forms of gambling more or less designed to encourage high degrees of involvement and to attract the participation of particularly susceptible individuals (Cornish, 1978). In Britain, the widespread provision of "betting shops" in prime urban locations enables off-course gambling to take place throughout the afternoon. These premises offer a vast range of simple and complex betting strategies, a feeling of personal involvement and challenge fostered by the exercise of handicapping skills, and an atmosphere of "action" encouraged by the rapidity of events and payouts, presence of other gamblers laying bets and collecting winnings, and the use of live television commentary from the course--a combination of properties which provides an environment designed to encourage continuous gambling. The contrast with the choice-structuring properties of lotteries is significant: lotteries are held relatively infrequently, involve lengthy periods between staking and payout, offer the minimum of personal involvement, little scope for social interaction or the exercise of skill (real or perceived), a limited range of odds and bets, and very long odds against winning. The prime attraction to their adherents, therefore, is the possibility they offer of a big "windfall" for very little initial outlay. "Numbers," on the other hand, while ostensibly rather similar to the lottery, offers a wider variety of staking levels and odds, a larger number of events and swifter turnaround, greater perceived scope for the invocation of personal luck, and more social interaction-features which go some way to explaining why attempts to promote lotteries as legal alternatives to the numbers racket have proved WlSuccessful (Kaplan and Maher, 1970). It is in example like these, where activities are examined in some detail, that the value of choice-structuring properties in clarifying the unique constellations of motives, opportunities, rewards, and costs offered by different fonns of gambling becomes evident. Attention to these parameters also suggests a means of controlling participation in potentially dangerous forms of gambling through regulation of these properties. Indeed, this strategy appears to guide the efforts of regulatory bodies and legislators when monitoring and controlling certain forms of
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke
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gambling such as betting and gaming, and those of promoters when trying to increase rates of participation and encourage escalation of involvement into more profitable forms. Manipulation of the choice-structuring properties of bingo, for example, in order to shorten the duration of individual games, the development of "linked bingo" to enable larger prizes to be offered, and the introduction, as "interval games," of gaming machines-whose choice-structuring properties, especially when deliberately manipulated by casino promoters (Hess and DiIler, 1969), tend to encourage continuous gambling-all provide graphic examples of these strategies (Cornish, 1978). In the case of suicide, properties of the various methods such as the degree of prior planning necessary, the courage required, likely pain, distastefulness of method, extent of disfigurement, time taken to die when conscious, scope for second thoughts, and chances of intervention, were used to explain why, when deprived of more acceptable methods, people do not always turn to other means of killing themselves. Domestic gas, for example, used to have particular advantages as a method of suicide: it was painless, very widely available, required little preparation, was highiy lethal (death could take place in less than half an hour), was not bloody, and did not disfigure. These features help to explain how the detoxification of domestic gas-a method that had formerly accounted for over 50% of all suicides (Kreitman, 1976; Kreitman and Platt, 1984; C1arke and Mayhew, in press}-brought about a 35% decline in the national rate of suicide in Britain during the 1960s. Some population subgroups such as the elderly and the less mobile may have found these advantages particularly compelling; there is evidence, for example, that suicidal women are more attracted by self-poisoning and more repulsed by violent and bloody methods (Marks, 1977). Since the needs and circumstances of particular subgroups may make certain methods uniquely attractive, then, it seems likely that reducing opportunities to use particular methods need not simply result in displacement to others, but can bring about genuine gains in the prevention of suicide deaths. Thus, an apparently obvious alternative to gassing, such as overdosing, which might appear to offer many of the same advantages, may nevertheless be subject to disadvantages which limit its viability as a substitute; for example, access to the most lethal drugs may require the cooperation of a doctor, or long-term planning and the faking of relevant symptoms, in order to build up sufficient quantities, while the range of more accessible nonprescription drugs may be either less lethal or, in the case of other alternatives such as domestic poisons, more painful to ingest (Clarke and Mayhew, in press).
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40_ Oerek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke
CHOICE.STRUCTURING PROPERTIES OF CRIMES Identifying an activity's unique blend of choice-structuring properties emphasizes its distinctive features and this, in turn, facilitates the making of comparisons betvveen different activities. But, because crimes are such a heterogeneous group of behaviors, it is not immediately clear on what basis to group crimes for comparison. One possible criterion is suggested by the aim of the exercise, which is to enable the conditions under which displacement is more or less likely to occur to be specified. Since few would expect displacement across behaviors engaged in for widely differing purposes, the goals of offending could provide the primary criterion for selecting the crimes to be compared. Thus, crimes whose main purpose appears to be to obtain money might be analyzed together, while those whose goal is sexual outlet would need to be separately analyzed. Some a priori determmation-Iater refined by empirical research-of the purposes being served by particular offenses will tllerefore need to be made before they are grouped together in order to analyze their choice-structuring properties. Although it may be the case that many crimes serve a mixture of goals, one of these will usually be dominant. This will provide the appropriate criterion for analysis, the remaining subsidiary purposes taking on the role of further choice-strucluring properties for tlle particular offenses being compared. For the sake of simplicity, it has so far been assumed that the individual chooses only from among criminal alternatives when seeking to achieve his goals. Given the wide range of noncrirninal alternatives also available to the offender, however, confining comparisons of choicestructuring properties to those among criminal means alone may seem unduly restrictive. A crime such as drunken driving, for example, whose purpose is very specific and temporary (that is, the need to get home after drinking) and in relation to which alternative crimes are few or none, illustrates the point that for some crimes most, if not all, of the alternative means being compared will be noncriminal. In addition, displacement will usually be directed in such cases to legal behaviors: more likely alternatives to drunken driving may be to call a cab, use public transportation, or walk, rather than to persuade an equally drunk companion to drive the car instead. Notwithstanding this example, it seems intuitively more likely that criminal behavior will usually be contemplated only after legitimate means have been foreclosed or rejected. Drunken driving, it could be argued, is a special case since one of the effects of alcohol may be to short-circuit this usual sequence. Under these circumstances, the capac;ity of the otherwise law-abiding citizen to consider the long-range consequences of his actions may be temporarily •
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sooner (Campbell and Gibbs, 1986: 126, 177). If criminal means are usually only considered at a later stage, this may suggest that they do in fact have something in common with each other and that these features provide some justification for limiting comparisons to crimes alone. But, while this meets the above objections, it also opens the door again to the very dispositional explanations of offending that the rational choice perspective was designed to challenge, since it suggests explanations in terms of offender characteristics, such as the tendency to select means which offer immediate gratification of needs, regardless of the consequences for others. Consequently, the preference at this stage is to defend confining comparison to crimes alone, not because criminal behavior is inherently different from other behaviors, but on pragmatic grounds alone: it is the possibility of displacement to other crimes which constitutes the major problem for crime-control policy. Before embarking on a more detailed discussion of their application to the problem of crime displacement, it may be useful to provide hypothetical lists of the choice-structuring properties of two quite different offense groupings: those designed to yield cash (for example, burglary, theft with or without contact, shoplifting, mugging, bank robbery, fraud, tax evasion, and auto theft); and those concerned with the ingestion of illegal substances (such as marijuana, opiates, LSD, cocaine, "crack," amphetamines, barbiturates, and volatile substances). As can be seen from Table 40.1, while specifying the dominant purpose and confining comparisons to criminal means takes one some way toward the goal of drawing up lists of choice-structuring properties, the resulting groupings of offenses will usually be rather broad. While it may be tempting to try for somewhat narrower arrays of offenses, such as those sharing a common modus operandi, this may be unhelpful when estimating the likelihood of displacement since it may result in the omission of important choice-structuring properties. In turn, their omission may make it difficult to explain, for example, why burglars who prey on distant affluent suburbs would never consider breaking into apartments in their neighborhood; why the Shoplifter might be reluctant to contemplate mugging; or why the computer fraudster might give up crime entirely if it became too difficult to continue his fraud. In the course of his investigation of robbers' decision making, for example, Feeney (1986) notes the surprising fact that many of them thought burglary too unpredictable and risky. Similar considerations apply to offenses of illegal substance abuse. An analysis of their choice-stlUcturing properties indicates that different substances provide different experiences, and this-together with considerations of availability, cost, risk, expertise required, and social con~
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TABLE 40.1
CHOICE-STRUCTURING PROPERTIES OF Two OFFENSE GROUPINGS
THEFT INVOLVING CASH
Availability (numbers of targets; accessibility) Awareness of method (e.g., pickpocketing vs. insurance fraud) Likely cash yield per crime Expertise needed Planning necessary (pickpocketing vs. bank robbery) Resources required (transport; equipment) Solo vs. associates required Time required to commit Cool nerves required (bank robbery vs. computer fraud) Risks of apprehension Severity of punishment Physical danger Instrumental violence required Confrontation with victim (mugging vs. burglary) Identifiable victim Social cachet (safecracking vs. mugging) "Fencing" necessary Moral evaluation ILLEGAL SUBSTANCE AnUSE
Availability (glue from hardware stores vs. prescription drug) Awareness (special knowledge of doctors or pharmacists) Social cachet (cocaine vs. heroin) Solitary vs. social Knowledge/skills required to administer (heroin vs. marijuana) Technical equipment required (heroin) Dangerousness of substance (crack vs. marijuana) Primary method of administration (injecting vs. smoking) Different forms substance can take Nature of psychological effects Number, type, and severity of side effects Dependency Length/intensity of "high" per dose Financial costs Legal penalties Detectability Interference with everyday tasks Moral evaluation
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substances may be more limited than is usually thought. Information from opiate abusers, for example, suggests that a desire to join a specific drug culture of users may be an important determinant of initial involvement (Bennett, 1986); an alternative culture such as that represented by teenage glue sniffing may be seen to offer rather different, and less attractive, experiences in terms of social cachet, excitement, and alternative lile-style. In addition, the specific psychological effects of the drugs themselves may restrict substitutability: today's energetic, acquisitive "yuppie" cocaine user may typically be of similar social background to the 1960s cannabis-using hippie, but the effects of cocaine may be more in tune with modem life-styles and aspirations than those produced by cannabis. Choice-structuring properties may also highlight similarities between apparently different behaviors. For example, crimes such as burglary on a public housing project, in a middle-class suburb, or in a wealthy enclave may,for some offenders, have fewer attractive properties in common than apparently different offenses, such as burglary or mugging, corrunitted in their own neighborhoods. While the latter offenses may involve different skills or risks, these may be counterbalanced by the advantages of offending within familiar territory. For these reasons, again, the most appropriate level of analysis for choice-structuring properties would seem to be at the most general level consistent with the likelihood of displacement. Since the lists in Table 40.1 derive from a rational choice perspective on offending, they both concentrate upon the opportunities, costs, and benefits of the various alternatives being compared. Though no particular attempt has been made to reconcile differences between the two lists, some categories of choice-structuring properties (especially the more generally applicable ones such as "availability") are common to both, while others inevitably reflect unique features of each offense grouping. The properties listed are not necessarily those taken into account by the offender, who may not be fully aware either of the range of properties involved or of the part they play in his decisions. Rather, the properties listed have been selected on a priori grounds as being of most relevance to the task of comparing offenses and, hence, of establishing the likely limits of displacement within each olfense grouping. Thus, there is likely to be more displacement between particular theft offenses where they share similar profiles of choice-structuring properties-for example, where the likely cash yield per crime is comparable, where similar skills and resources are required, and where the physical risks are the same. In contrast, where the profiles differ, this may clarify why displacement is unlikely to occur. Lastly, some choice-structuring properties ____ 1- __________ ! ___ L_1 •• _1 _ L _ _ 1 ___ !._ .J __!_! _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ! _ _ ...l! __ t __ ~
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ment. It is generally accepted, for example, that some offenders will not contemplate crimes which involve the use of violence. Little is known at present about offender decision making, and because of this the above lists may need modifying in the light of empirical research. But even at this stage such lists should provide a useful tool for those involved in crime prevention. By directing attention to those features of crimes which make them attractive to particular groups of offenders, such an approach will make it easier for policy makers to anticipate the direction and amount of any displacement to other forms of crime. In the past, for example, uncritical and often hidden assumptions that illegal substances are equivalent in their attractiveness and effects may have had damaging effects upon policy formation through their tendency to encourage preoccupation with the inevitability of displacement and escalation. Careful attention to choice-structuring properties of different activities, however, will enable the accuracy of assessments to be improved about the likely costs and benefits of undertaking new crime prevention initiatives in relation to specific forms of crimes. The lists will also alert policy makers to action that needs to be taken in order to forestall criminal displacement or even to facilitate displacement to noncriminal alternatives. Finally, lists of choice-structuring properties should assist in the evaluation of crime prevention initiatives by helping to orient the search for displacement.
CHOICE·STRUCTURING PROPERTIES AND OFFENDER PERCEPTIONS The choice-structuring properties in Table 40.1 attempt to provide a comprehensive list of the salient ways in which crimes with similar goals differ from each other. Although policy makers require such comprehensive information in order to think constructively about displacement, it should not be assumed that offenders will utilize the data in a similar way. As mentioned above, they may lack infonnation about the full range of offenses that could satisfy their goals, they may be unaware of the extent to which available opportunities have structured their choices, they may be ignorant of all the costs and benefits of the different offenses, and they may assign particular importance to certain choice-structuring properties (such as eschewing the use of violence, or restricting selection of victims to those of particular socio-economic or ethnic groups), which then come to exert a disproportionate influence upon involvement and displacement decisions. Moreover, in practice, offenders may not always talce accounfof the full range of properties. For example, the _L _. _
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individual's initial decision whether or not to get involved in a particular crime. They may have rather less application to more immediate decisions relating to the commission of a particular offense (or what may be termed the criminal "event"), although a similar comparison process-albeit using a different and more restricted range of properties-undoubtedly takes place when potential targets or victims are being compared. The present lists would become more salient again when, having committed the offense, the offender had to decide whether to continue with a particular form of crime or to desist. Last, as a result of the experience of committing the offense in question, further choice-structuring properties may become apparent to the offender and existing ones may assume a different value. Thus, the degree of steady nerves required may only become apparent once a mugging has been attempted. As well as exemplifying one of the major premises of the rational choice perspective-that the offender's decision-making processes will tend to display limited rather than normative rationality-the above points also illustrate the dynamic nature of criminal decision making. Thus far it might well appear that a rather passive role has been assigned to choice-structuring properties in that it has been implied that offenders' needs lead them to search out suitable criminal opportunities in their environments. But, as the term implies, choice-sffilcturing properties may often play a more active role in generating offending. Some of the opportunities may offer a constellation of properties sufficiently attractive to provide a temptation to crime, as is often argued to be the case with petty offenses such as shoplifting. These points underline the three-fold distinction made by Maguire (1980) and by Bennett and Wright (1984) among offenders who seize, search for, or create opportunities. It is also clear that, as well as specifying features of beha viors (kinds of gambling, methods of suicide, types of crime), choice-structuring properties implicitly specify salient characteristics of the actor, such as his or her needs, preferences, personal characteristics, and perceptions. In other words, the term "chOice-structuring property" is a relational concept designed to provide an analytic tool for increasing an understanding of the interaction between person variables and arrays of behaviors-in the case of crime, to specify more closely offenders as well as the offenses they commit. Thus, where crime displacement occurs, a knowledge of the choice-structuring properties which the offenses share may permit more accurate identification of the subgroups of offenders involved; and this may well prove a more fruitful way of investigating the interface between offense and offender-and, in particular, issues relating to specialization and generalization (Cornish and Clarke, in press)-than the more static and rigid offender typologies of
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
Greater knowledge about all these matters would undoubtedly improve policy makers' ability to predict the likelihood and direction of displacement. But, as well as requiring more infonnation about the way offenders perceive and utilize the choice-structuring properties of crimes, more needs to be known about the criminal opportunity structure within which the offender operates if a complete picture of the determinants of displacement is to be given (Cook, 1986b). First, at a macro levet more ecological research is required in order to explore the changes in opportunities and, hence, in crime rates, brought about by changes in routine activities, life-styles, and commercial practices. As has been indicated above, the detoxification of domestic gas in Britain brought about a substantial decline in the national suicide rate during the 1960s. In the same way, participation in gambling rises whenever new facilities are created (Cornish, 1978). In relation to crime, WilkIDs (1964) showed how rises in the rates of auto theft in Britain parallel the increased rates of new car registrations, and Cohen and Felson (1979) showed how increases in burglary in the United States reflected the rise in "stealable" property and in numbers of women working outside the home. More recently, Tremblay's (1986) research on credit card bank frauds has indicated how the introduction of new commercial marketing strategies may also sometimes have unforeseen consequences. Thus, a move by certain Canadian banks to extend facilities for check cashing to nonregular customers able to guarantee the transaction by means of a credit card, offered existing credit card thieves a novel and lucrative way of preying directly upon the banking system itself instead of upon retailers alone. The processes through which these changes in opportunities at the macro level take place also require elucidation. The escalation in deaths from car exhaust fumes in Britain from the beginning of the 1970s, for example, suggests that learning may have an important role to play in determining changes in suicide rates over time, as people gradually come to identify a novel and attractive method of suicide (Clarke and Lester, 1987). At the micro level, Tremblay's work provides some hints about the circumstances under which, for one particular form of crime, such diffusion of innovation might come about. Previous experience in committing similar forms of crime may sensitize offenders to new variations on their favorite themes; membership of criminal knowledge networks may speed up the diffusion of information among specialists, while the media may spread such information more widely among the noncriminal population. The more dramatic the event-such as hijacking, bank robbery, rape l murder, or suicide-the more vivid, detailed, and widespread the coverage, and the ~or~ o~ten: at.~1e time of.th,e
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Under these circumstances, the likelihood of "copycat" offenses may be further enhanced.
RATIONAL CHOICE TIIEORY AND CRIME·CONTROL POLICY The rational choice perspective was originally developed to provide policy makers with a useful framework to guide thinking about crime prevention and controL In line with this objective, the present paper has attempted to develop certain aspects of the theory in the interests of answering critics of situational crime prevention who have implicitly assumed that the outcome of such efforts is simply (and, seemingly, inevitably) to displace offending. A similar analysis, making use of the concept of choice-structuring properties, has also been attempted elsewhere to clarify aspects of the long-standing debate over whether offenders are generalists or specialists (Cornish and Clarke, in press). Rational choice approaches have also proved useful in suggesting reasons for the limited effectiveness of rehabilitative efforts (Cornish, 1987) in emphasizing the need of deterrent policies to pay greater attention to offenders' perceptions of opportunities, risks, costs, and benefits (Bennett and Wright, 1984), and in identifying potentially adverse side-effects of policies such as selective incapacitation (Cook, 1986a). More generally, a rational choice perspective on offending can suggest, if not explanations, lines of enquiry to account for stability and change in criminal behavior. The importance of this for directing crime prevention policy and practice should not be underestimated. Taking Tremblay's study as an example once again, it is instructive to note that, even under the most apparently favorable of circumstances, displacement was by no means inevitable: only 10% of Tremblay's " checkmen" actually switched their attentions to credit card bank frauds. Before dismissing this discrepancy as a crude exemplification of Zipf's (1949) Principle of Least Effort, it should be recognized that this low take-up may well have resulted from the logistics of the situation-the limited period for which this particular "window of vulnerability" was left open by the banks and the fact that, even as knowledge grew about this novel form of crime, so were the risks and effort involved in its corn.mission rapidly escalating. Critics of situational crime prevention might well take pause for thought from this example. For, whatever the value of longer-term social prevention strategies that attack the root" causes of crime, the constant innovation in criminal methods in response to the changing criminal opportunity structure demands similar vigilance and ___ L.! ____ ..l ! _____ "--- __ >. _l L.! _ _ _ _ ..l
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crime control. It is hoped that the rational choice perspective can offer some assistance in this enterprise.
REFERENCES Be11l1ett, Trevo! 1986 A decision-making approach to apioid addiction. In Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (eds.), The Reasoning Criminal New York: Springer-Verlag.
Sennett, Trevor and Richard Wright 1984 Burglars on Burglary. Aldershot, Hants, England: Cower. Campbell, Anne and John J. Gibbs 1986 Violent Transactions. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Chaiken, Jan M., Michael W. Lawless, and Keith Stevenson 1974 Impact of Police Activity on Crime: Robberies on the New York City Subway System. Report No. R-1424-N.Y.C. Santa Monica, CA: Rand Corporation. Clarke, Ronald V. 1983 Sihtational crime preventions: Its theoretical basis and practical scope. In Ivlichael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice, Vo!. 4. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Clarke, Ronald V. and Derek B. Cornish 1985 Modeling offenders' decisions: A framework for research and policy. In lVlichael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice, Vol. 6. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Clarke, Ronald V. and Oavid Lester 1987 Toxicity of car exhausts and opportunity for suicide: Comparison be~ tween Britain and the United States. Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health 41: 114-120. Clarke, Ronald V. and Pat Mayhew In The British gas suicide story and its criminolOgical implications. In Press .Michael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice, Vol. 10. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Cohen, Lawrence E. and Marcus Felson 1979 Social change and crime rate trends: A routine activity approach. American Sociological Review 44: 588~608. Cook, Philip j. 1986a Criminal incapacitation effects considered in an adaptive choice framework. In Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (eds.), The Reasoning Crim~al. New York: Springer~Verlag.
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1986b The demand and supply of criminal opporhmities. In Nlichael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice, Vol. 7. Chicago: Univer~ sHy of Chicago Press. Cornish, Oerek 8. 1978 Gambling: A review of tile Literature. Home Office Research Study, No. 42. London: HMSO. 1987 Evaluating residentiallTeatrnent for delinquents: A cautionary tale. rn Klaus Hurrelmann and Franz-Xaver Kaufmann (eds.), Limits and Potentials of Social Intervention. Berlin/New York: de Gruyter / AI~ dine. Cornish, Derek B. and Ronald V. Clarke 1986a The Reasoning Criminal. New York: 5pringer~ Verlag. 1986b Situational prevention, displacement of crime and rational choice theory. In Kevin Heal and Gloria Laycock (eds.), Situational Crime Prevention: From Theory into Practice. London: HMSO . . In Crime specialization, crime displacement and rational choice Uleory. Press In H. Wegener, F. Lose!, and J. Haish (eds.), Criminal Behavior and the Justice System: Psychological Perspectives. New York: Springer~ Verlag. Feeney, Floyd 1986 Robbers as decision~makers. In Oerek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (eds.), The Reasoning Criminal: New York Springer~Verlag. Cabor, Thomas 1981 The crime displacement hypothesis: An empirical examination. Crime and Delinquency 26:390-404. Hess, H.P. and J.v. Oilier 1969 Motivation for gambling as revealed in the marketing methods of the legitimate gambling industry. Psychological Reports 25: 19-27. Kaplan, L. and J. Maher 1970 The economics of the nwnbers game. American Journal of Economics and Sociology 29: 391-408. Kreitman, Norman 1976 The coal gas story: United Kingdom suicide rates, 1960-71. British Journal of Preventive and Social Medicine 30: 86-93. Kreitman, Norman and S. Platt 1984 Suicide, unemployment, and domestic gas detoxification in Britain. Journal of Epidemiology and Community Hea1U138: 1-6. Maguire, Mike 1980 Burglary as Opportunity. Research Bulletin No. 10: 6-9. London: Home Office Research Unit. Marks,Alan 1977 Sex differences and their effect upon cultural evaluations of methods nf
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Mayhew, Patrida M., Ronald V. Clarke, Andrew ShIrman, and J.M. Hough 1976 Crime as Opportunity. Home Office Research Study, No. 34. London: HMSO. Reppetto, Thomas 1976 Crime prevention and the displacement phenomenon. Crime and Delinquency 22: 166-177. Tremblay, Pierre 1986 Designing crime. British Journal of Criminology 26: 234-253.
Weinstein, D. and L. Deitch 1974 The impact of legalized gambling: the soda-economic consequences of lotteries and off-track betting. New York: Praeger. Wilkens, Leslie T. 1964 Social Deviance. London: Tavistock.
Wilkinson, Paul 1977 Terrorism and the Liberal State. London: Macmillan. Zipf, George K. 1949 Human Behavior and the Principle of Least Effort: An Introduction to Human Ecology. Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley.
41 A Theory of Criminal Behavior ]AMES Q. WILSON and RICHARD]. HERRNSTEIN Theories of crime abound. The lay reader will wonder whether any theory can be an improvement on common sense, and the scholarly one will groan at the prospect of yet another theory. But what may be irrelevant to the former and redundant to the latter is, to us, important, for theories, whatever else they may do, direct our attention to some features of the situation and away from others. Much of the confusion about the sources of individual differences in criminality arise, we believe, from bad theories-that is, from views about how the world works that are incomplete and thus lead us to attend to some things but not to others. For example, the theory that unemployment or economic want causes crime can lead us to look for increases in criminality during econOIIlic recessions but to overlook the possibility that crime may also be caused by prosperity (if it loosens the social bonds), by the distribution of income (if it causes social envy), or by some underlying factor that happens to cause both criminality and unemployment. More generally, Reprinted with the permis~{Ol~ of Simon & Schuster from Crime and Human Nature by lames Q. Wilson and Richard J. Hermstein. Copyright © 1985 by James Q. Wilson and I V . ' . • .' T
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theories that call attention to the social setting in which crime occurs (such as the attitudes of parents and peers, the perceived costs and benefits of crime, the influence of drugs and television) direct our attention away from preexisting individual traits that make people more or less susceptible to such social factors; by the same token, theories that emphasize the preferences of individuals tend to deemphasize the situalional factors that determine how, or even whether, those preferences affect behavior. The quarrels among lay persons and scholars about what causes crime are basically quarrels about the relative importance of those factors that occupy a central place in competing theories. 111ese arguments are made more intense by the fact that sometimes people do not choose theories at random; very often, they choose them in part because the central factors in the theories-individual morality, social setting, economic circumstances, or the prospects of punishment-are ones, which for political or ideological reasons, the defenders of the theories want to believe are central. We suggest that most of the common theories purporting to explain criminal behavior are but special cases of some more general theory. Specifying that larger theory is useful because, to the extent it is correct and comprehensive, it will keep before our eyes the full range of factors that cause individual differences in criminality. This, in turn, will restrain our tendency to give partial explanations of crime or to make partial interpretations of the empirical findings of criminologists. Ideally, of course, a theory should do much more than this. In principle, a theory is a testable statement of the relationships among two or more variables, so that, knowing the theory, we can say with some confidence that if we observe X, we will also observe Y. For instance: If we observe a left-handed, red haired male, then we are 70 percent certain that we are observing a burglar. Unfortunately, theories about crime, even ours, often do not permit us to make such statements, but for the reasons already given, they are important nonetheless. If, given this state of affairs, "theory" sounds too grand a term for the systematic speculations we and others have produced, consider what we offer as an organized perspective on the causes of crime. Our theory-or perspective-is a statement about the forces that control individual behavior. To most people, that is not a very interesting assertion, but to many scholars, it is a most controversial one. Some students of crime are suspicious of the view that explanations of crirninality should be based on an analysis of individual psychology. Such a view, they argue, is "psychological reductionism" that neglects the setting in which crime occurs and the broad social forces that determine levels of crime. These suspicions, while understandable, are ill-founded. lAn.._.l-~
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petence of the police, the nurturance of the family, the availability of drugs, the quality of the schools-they must all affect the behavior of individuals if they are to affect crime. If people differ in their tendency to commit crime, we must express those differences in terms of how some array of factors affects their individual decisions. If crime rates differ among nations, if must be because individuals in those nations differ or are exposed to different arrays of factors. If crime rates rise or fall, it must be that changes have occurred in the variables governing individual behavior. Our theory is eclectic, drawing from different, sometimes opposing, schools of thought. We incorporate both genetic predispositions and sociallearnmg and consider the influence of both delayed and immediate factors. An individual act is sometimes best understood as a reaction to immediate circumstances and at other times as an expression of enduring behavioral dispositions; bOUl sorts of explanations have a place in our theory. Though eclectic, the theory is built upon modern behavioral psychology!
CRIME AS CHOICE: THE THEORY IN BRIEF Our theory rests on the assumption that people, when faced with a choice, choose the preferred course of action. This assumption is quite weak; it says nothing more than that whatever people choose to do, they choose it because they prefer it. In fact, it is more than weak; without further clarification, it is a tautology. When we say people" choose," we do not necessarily mean that they consciously deliberate about what to do. All we mean is that their behavior is determined by its consequences, A person OOU do that thing the consequences of which are perceived by him or her to be preferable to the consequences of doing something else. What can save such a statement from being a tautology is how plausibly we describe the gains and losses associated with alternative courses of action and the standards by which a person evaluates those gains and losses. These assumptions are commonplace in philosophy and social science. Philosophers speak of hedonism or utilitarianism, economists of value or utility, and psychologists of reinforcement or reward. We will use the language of psychology, but it should not be hard to translate our terminology into that of other disciplines. Though social scientists "The specialist will recognize the debt we owe to, nnd the liberties we bave taken with, the work of Edward L. Thorn'dike, Albert Bandura, B. F. Skinner, R. B. Cnttell, H. J. '"',,""' .... ,..t,. T P P..,,,l,,,,, ... ~.-I r:;
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41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein
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differ as to how much behavior can reasonably be described as the result of a choice, all agree that at least some behavior is guided, or even precisely controlled, by things variously termed pleasure, pain, happiness, sorrow, desirability, or the like. Our object is to show how this simple and widely used idea can be used to explain behavior. At any given moment, a person can choose between committing a crime, and not committing it (all these alternatives to crime we lump together as "noncrime"). The consequences of committing the crime consist of rewards (what psychologists call "reinforcers") and punishments; the consequences of not committing the crime (i.e., engaging in noncrime) also entail gains and losses. The larger the ratio of the net rewards of crime to the net rewards of noncrime, the greater the tendency to commit the crime. The net rewards of crime include, obviously, the likely material gains from the crime, but they also include intangible benefits, such as obtaining emotional or sexual gratification, receiving the approval of peers, satisfying an old score against an enemy, or enhancing one's sense of justice. One must deduct from these rewards of crime any losses that accrue immediately-that are, so to speak, contemporaneous with the crime. They include the pangs of conscience, the disapproval of onlookers, and the retaliation of the victim. The value of noncrirne lies all in the future. It includes the benefits to the individual of avoiding the risk of being caught and punished and, in addition, the benefits of avoiding penalties not controlled by the criminal justice system, such as the loss of reputation or the sense of shame afflicting a person later discovered to have broken the law and the possibility that, being known as a criminat one cannot get or keep a job. The value of any reward or punishment associated with either crime or noncrime is, to some degree, uncertain. A would-be burglar can rarely know exactly how much loot he will take away or what its cash value will prove to be. TIle assaulter or rapist may exaggerate the satisfaction he thinks will follow the assault or the rape. Many people do not know how sharp the bite of conscience will be until they have done something that makes them feel the bite. The anticipated approval of one's buddies mayor may not be forthcoming. Similarly, the benefits of noncrime are uncertain. One cannot know with confidence whether one will be caught, convicted, and punished, or whether one's friends will learn about the crime and as a result withhold valued esteem, or whether one will be able to find or hold a job. Compounding these uncertainties is time. The opportunity to commit a crime may be ready at hand (an open, unattended cash register in a store) or well in the future (a bank that, with planning and preparation, can be robbed). And the rewards associated "With noncrime are almost
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
weeks or months distant. The strength of reinforcers tends to decay over time at rates that differ among individuals. As a result, the extent to which people take into account distant possibilities-a crime that can be committed only tomorrow, or punishment that will be inflicted only in a year-will affect whether they choose crime or noncrime ....
THE THEORY AS A WHOLE ... [T]he chief value of a comprehensive theory of crime is that it will bring to our attention all the factors that explain individual differences in criminality and thus prevent us from offering partial explanations or making incomplete interpretations of research findings.* The larger the ratio of the rewards (material and nonrnaterial) of noncrime to the rewards (material and nonmaterial) of crime, the weaker the tendency to commit crimes. The bite of conscience, the approval of peers, and any sense of inequity will increase or decrease the total value of crime; the opinions of family, friends, and employers are important benefits of noncrime, as is the desire to avoid the penalties that can be imposed by the criminal justice system. The strength of any reward declines with time, but people differ in the rate at which they discount the future. The strength of a given reward is also affected by the total supply of reinforcers. Some implications of the theory are obvious: Other things being equal, a reduction in the delay and uncertainty attached to the rewards of noncrime will reduce the probability of crime. But other implications are not so obvious. For instance, increasing the value of the rewards of noncrime (by increasing the severity of punishment) may not reduce a given individual's tendency to commit crime if he believes that these rewards are not commensurate with what he deserves. In this case, punishing him for preferring crime to noncrime may trigger hostility toward society in retaliation for the shortfall. The increased rewards for noncrirne may be offset by an increased sense of inequity and hence an increased incentive for committing a crime. Or again: It may be easier to reduce crime by making penalties swifter or more certain, rather than 'There is an advantage to stating the theory mathematically. We thereby make it easier in principle to deal simultaneously with the interaction of several variables, and thus we resist the tendency in thinking about crime to keep only two or three things in mind at one time and to treat those' few things as either-or propositions. But the essence of the ,1...~~_.
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more severe, if the persons committing crime are highly present-oriented (so that they discount even large rewards very sharply) or if they are likely to have their sense of inequity heightened by increases in the severity of punishment. Or yet again: An individual with an extroverted personality is more likely than one with an introverted one to externalize his feelings of inequity and act directly to correct them. In laboratory settings involving both human and animal subjects, each element of the theory has received at least some confirmation and the major elements have been confirmed extensively.l Extrapolating these findings outside the laboratory, into real-world settings, is a matter on which opinions differ. In this book, we propose to bring together evidence from a variety of disciplines bearing on the connection betvveen elements of the theory and the observed characteristics of crime and criminals. The connection between crime and impulsiveness has been demonstrated as the link betvveen (low) intelligence and crime. Those features of family life that produce stronger or weaker internalized inhibitions will be seen to have a connection to the presence or absence of aggressiveness and criminality. Certain subcultures, such a street-corner gangs, appear to affect the value members attach to both crime and noncrime. The mass media, and in particular television, may affect both aggressiveness directly and a viewer's sense of inequity that can affect crime indirectly. Schooling may affect crime rates by bringing certain persons together into groups that reinforce either crime or noncrime and by determining the extent to which children believe that their skills will give them access to legitimate rewards. The condition of the economy will have a complex effect on crime depending on whether the (possibly) restraint-weakening impact of affluence dominates the restraintstrengthening influence of employment opportunities. Though we will be using, for the most part, examples of rather common criminality to illustrate our argument, the theory is quite consistent with the more bizarre and unusual forms of crime. Psychopathic personalities lack to an unusual degree internalized inhibitions on crime. Persons possessed by some obsessive interest-for example, pyromania-attach an inordinately high value to the rewards of certain crimes. 1£ everyone loved fire too much, society would try hard to teach the moral evil of fire, as well as its practical danger. As it is, what society does teach is sufficient to overcome whatever slight tendency toward pyromania every average person may have, but it is insufficient to inhibit the rare pyromaniac. One reason society punishes arsonists is not only to make it more costly for persons to use fire for material gain but also to provide extra moral education to the occasional person who loves
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
In addition to pathological drives, there are ordinary ones that can, under certain conditions, become so strong as to lead to crime. History and literature abound with normal men and women in the grip of a too powerful reinforcement. Many people have broken the law for love, honor, family, and country, as well as for money, sex, vengeance, or delusiOTI. Such criminals may be psychologically unremarkable; they transgressed because as they perceived the situation the reward for crime exceeded that for noncrime, and an opportunity presented itself. The legal system often tries to minimize the punishment inflicted on such people.
OTHER THEORIES OF CRIME Our approach to explaining individual differences in criminaHty is not meant to supplant but to encompass other theories. Following Travis Hirschi, we note that there are three main sociological perspectives on the causes of crime: According to straiu or motivational theo:-ies, legi.timate desire~ that conformity cannot satisfy force of person mto de:lan~e. Accordmg to control or bond theories, a person is free to commlt delinquent acts because his ties to the convenlional order have somehow been broken. According to wltllmI deviance theories, the deviant conform~ to ~1 set of standards not accepted by the larger or more powerfulsoclely.-
Strain theory assumes that people ordinarily obey society's rules but violate them when following those rules does not enable them to satisfy their legitimate aspirations. There is a strain between the goal they seek and the means at their disposal to reach that goal. Their opportunities are blocked; thus, strain theory is sometimes called the theory of differential opportunity':.'! In some versions of strain theory, persons who are frustrated in their efforts to achieve middle-class goals abandon them and embrace antisocial values:1 In other versions, they persist in seeking wealth, property, and status, but use criminal means to do so. Advocates of strain theory are calling attention to the importance of certain reinforcers associated with noncrime, in particular the value of jobs and other sources of wealth and status, and suggesting that as these decline in strength (because they are not available or are of little value) the rein forcers associated with crime come to dominate the choices confronting the individuaL This is a useful but partial observation. It properly reminds us of. the importance to the individual of whatever alternatives to crime are available to him, but it neglects other compo-
41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein
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nents of the rewards of crime and noncrime and pays little attention to individual differences in impulsiveness and internalized inhibitions. TI:e reinforc~rs .ass~cia:ed with noncrime include aVOiding the penalties of the cnrnmal Justice system as well as obtaining the benefits of jobs; thus, the reinforcement supplied by noncrime can decline because either jobs becomes less available or sanctions decline in certainty or severity, or both. The theory also neglects the fact that the value of committing a crime is the sum not only of the money-supplying or stat~s-co.nferring components of the crime but also of the costs (if any) of vlOlatmg some internal inhibition and the benefits (if any) of rectifying a sense of inequity, Finally, strain theory ignores individual differences in time discounting (or impulSiveness). Because of these limitations, strain theory cannot account for all the o?served facts about crime. It can offer no explanation, for example, of mIddle-class crime. If crime is disproportionately committed by lower-class persons because they find their lack of schOOling and job opportun~les a barner to realizing their legitimate aspirations, then persons WIth adequate schooling and reasonable job prospects should not commit crimes, yet they do. If the people most likely to commit crimes are those in great need of legitimate rewards who find their access to those ~eward~ .blocked, then .crime should be most COmmon among men WIth farmltes and heavy finandal responsibilities, but in fact crime rates are highest among unattached males in the adolescent and younD' adult years. 0 Control theory directs our attention to the importance of learned inhibitions against crime. Unlike strain theory, which assumes that people ~aturally want to do the right thing but are prevented from doing it by CIrcumstances, control theory suggests that it is first necessary to explain why anyone should want to do the right thing. This is an important s~ggestion because It remmds us of the intangible components of th~ reinforcements. associated with both crime (the bite, if any, of conSCIence) and noncnme (the value, if any, of the good opinion of decent folk). Control theory asks how the social bond is formed and rnain5 tained. But important as this bonding may be, control theory does not explain. all of the differences among individuals in criminality. In particular, It neglects differences in personality and orientation toward time: Some persons may commit crimes not because their attachment to legitimate norms is weak but because they are impulsive, unable to foresee the distant consequences of their actions, or confident that those consequences will not be costiy. Moreover, control theory provides an incomplete account of the relationship between low intelligence and predatory criminality. The theory explains this connection largely by
654
New Direclions in Deviance Theory
the claim that low-IQ individuals, frustrated by their inability to do well in their studies and jobs, fail to develop an attachment to school and work. 6 This may well occur, but it is also possible that cognitive deficits affect crirninality more directly because they are associated with having a short time horizon. 7 Cultural deviance theory also focuses on learning, but asserts that criminals have learned their values from deviant rather than law-abiding persons. Like control theory, this view directs our attention to the intangible reinforcers associated with crime and noncrime, suggesting that criminals are those who have learned that crime is worthwhile because it is reinforced by the good opinion of persons in whose company one commits the crime or who later learn of it. In some versions of this theory, deviant behavior is learned from other offenders by a process called "differential association'? in other versions, it is learned from a distinctive subculture composed of lower-class males who may not directly teach criminality but who value toughness, excitement, autonomy, and "street smarts," and who have a fatalistic attitude toward the future. 9 Useful as this perspective is, it cannot explain why some persons take their cues from street gangs while others take them from their families and other non deviant individuals, nor is it consistent with the fact that high-rate delinquents seem to be boys who are not well integrated into gangs and who have few close or lasting friendships.lo In short, cultural deviance theory provides no explanation for individual differences and thus cannot account for the fact that in a given neighborhood or social class some boys adopt deviant values and others adopt conventional ones. And the theory has no place for those tangible reinforcements associated with crime and noncrime that may lead persons with conventional values to commit crimes (because they are so profitable) or dissuade persons with deviant values from committing them (because they are so unprofitable). The three kinds of theories discussed so far draw heavily or entirelyon sociological thought; it is because of this that they have in common a disinterest in individual differences that arise out of psychological or biological predispositions. Other disciplines have sought to remedy this defect, but usually at the expense of any attention to the social setting in which crime occurs or to the complexity of internalized inhibitions. Criminals are more likely than noncriminals to have mesomorphic body types, to have fathers who were criminals even in the case of adopted sons who could not have known their fathers, to be of somewhat lower intelligence, to be impulsive or extroverted, and to have autonomic nervous systems that respond more slowly and less vigorously to stimuli. These findings provide 'important clues to anyone seeking to explain inriiuirl11:.1 rliff""·,,,n,..."'c 'h11f. .. ",1.-0" ",1,...... ", ..ha" rln. ......... f. ,..,........ "...;h,f.,.. ... f.'I-. .... ,.. ..."'.-.r:
41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Hermstein
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crime, for they do not place the would-be offender in the full context of the reinforcements acting on his behavior. An impulsive person can be taught greater self-control, a low-IQ individual can engage in satisfying learning experiences, and extroverted mesomorphs with slow autonomic nervous system response rates may earn honest money in the National Football League instead of dishonest money robbing banks. We believe that all of these views are implicit in our larger behavioral theory. The risk we run by attempting to state so general a theory is that a theory general enough to explain everything about crime will not provide may testable hypotheses explaining anyone tlling very precisely. At the least, however, our perspective allows us to put into some order the full array of particular findings about crime and human nature that one encounters in the literature ....
NOTES 1.
2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.
8. 9. 10.
For example, C. M. Bradshaw, E. Szabadi, and C. F. Lowe (eds.), QlUl1ltificatioll of Steady-State Operallt Behavior (Amsterdam: Elsevier/North Holland Biomedical Press, 1981); M. L Commons, R. J. Hermstein, and H. Rachlin (eds.), Quantitative Analyses of Beltavior: Matcflillg and Maximizing Accoullts (Cambridge, l\1A: Ballinger, 1982). T. Hirschi, Causes ofDelinqlletlcy (Berkeley, CA: UniverSity of California Press, 1969), p. 3. R. A. Cloward and L. E. Ohlin, DelillqJlellC1j and Opportrlllihj (New York: Free Press, 1960). A. K. Cohen, Delillqllellt Boys (New York: Free Press, 1955). D. Matza, Dc1illquellcy alld Drift (New York: Jolm Wiley, 1964), Hirschi, Causes of Delinquency. Hirschi, Causes of DelillqllellC1j, p. 120. W. Mischel, "Preference for Delayed Reinforcement and Social Responsibility/' JOJlrnal of Abllormal alld Social PsyclIolof51j, 62 (1961), 1-7. E. H. Sutherland and D. R. Cressey, Prillciples of CriminologIj, 7th ed. (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1966). W. B. Miller, "Lower Class Culture as a Generating Milieu of Gang Delin~ quency," JOllmal of Social Issues, 14 (1958),5-19. Hirschi, Callses ofDelillqueHcy, Chapter 8.
REFERENCES Bradshaw, C. M., Szsabadi, E. and Lowe, C. F. (eds). 1981. Qualltification of Steady State Opemllt Behavior. Amsterdam: EIsevier/North Holland Biomedical Press. Cioward , R. A., and Ohlin, L. E. 1960. Delinqueltcy a1ld OpportIlllity. New York:
656
Cohen, A. K. 1955. Oelillque/lt Boys. New York: Free Press. Commons, M. L., Herrnstein, R. J" and Rachlin, H. (eds.) 1982. Quantitative Arwlyses ofBe!mvior: Matelling alld Maximizi"g ACCOll1ltS. Cambridge, Mass.: Ballinger. Hirschi, T. 1969. Causes of Delinquency. Berkeley, Calif: University of California PresS.
Matza, D. 1964. DelinqllcllC1J alld Drift. New York: John Wiley. Miller, W. B. 1958. Lower class culture as a generating milieu of gang delinquency. JOImwl of$ocial Issucs 14:5-9. Mischel, W. 1961. Preference for delayed reinforcement and social responsibili-
ty. Journal of Abnormal alld Social PSydlOlogJJ 62: 1-7. Sutherland, E. H., and Cressey, D. R. 1966. Principles of CrimillologJj, 7th ed. Philadelphia: Lippincott.
42 The Class Structure of Gender and Delinquency: Toward a Power-Control Theory of Common Delinquent Behavior* JOHN I-lAGAN, A. R. GILLIS, and JOHN SIMPSON Class and gender are among the most frequently analyzed correlates of delinquency today. Gender is a strong ad consistent correlate (e.g., see Simon 1975; Harris 1977), whereas class is weak and uncertain (Hindelang, Hirschi, and Weis 1981). The situation is an embarrassment to sociological theories of delinquency. Although most such theories attach great importance to class, there is doubt about the correlation on which they rest. Furthermore, although it is generally assumed that the effect of gender is socially based, there is no clear evidence that the gender-delin-
quency relationship can be removed when social variables are taken into account. Class apparently accounts for too little delinquency (Hirschi 1972); gender stubbornly accounts for too much (Steffensmier 1980). Curiously, the issues of class and gender have not been joined in delinquency research. We believe that this is a crucial omission, for a combined consideration of class structure and gender is the key to a sociological understanding of the effect of gender on delinquency. *This study was made possible by funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and the Ministry of the Solicitor General of Canada. We assume full responsibility for the results and interpretations presented here. Requests for reprints should be sent to John Hagan, Faculty of Law, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M5S lAl. Reprinted from John Hagan, A.R. Gillis, and John Simpson, "The Class Structure of Gender and Delinquency: Toward a Power-Control Theory of Common Delinquent Behavior," AmeriClI1I Journal of Sociology 90, no. 6 (1985), pp. 1151-78. ©1985 by The Univer-
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42. John Hagan, A R. Cillis, and John Simpson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
The failure to link class and gender in delinquency research betrays a neglect of classical criminological theory. The father figure of Marxian criminology, WIlliam Banger, offered one of the first statistical demonstrations of the strong correlation between gender and criminality. He then pointed specifically to the importance of class structure for a theoretical understanding of the social basis of this relationship. "A very conclusive proof of the thesis that the social position of woman is what explains her lower criminality, is as follows. The difference in the manner of life of the two sexes decreases as we descend the social scale. If the social pOSition of woman is then an important determinant of her lower criminality, the figures ought to show that the criminality of men differs more from that of women in the well-ta-do classes than in classes less privileged" (1916, p. 477). Of course, Banger had neither the data nor the analytic techniques to test adequately his prediction of the interactive effect of class and gender on delinquency. Today we do; but such testing requires that we first think carefully about several issues of theory and measurement.
THE STUDY OF CLASS AND DELINQUENCY Two fascinating empirical regularities involve the level of agreement that survey respondents demonstrate in ranking the prestige of occupations and the seriousness of crimes (Rossi et a!. 1974, p. 224). These regularities may explain why sociologists who have sought to link class with delinquent behavior have substituted the measurement of socioeconomic status for the operationalization of class and have worried so much about the seriousness of the illegal acts they have studied. By carefully measuring socioeconomic status and/ or focusing on serious offenses, they may have hoped to salvage the theoretically expected class-delinquency relationship. The magnitude of the results is a questionable match for the efforts expended: when found, the relationship is modest (Elliot and Ageton 1980; Thornberry and Farnsworth 1982), uncertain (Braithwaite 1981), and possibly in decline (TIttIe, Villemez, and Smith 1978). The paucity of prior results alone might encourage a rethinking of the class-delinquency issue, but there are also theoretical and methodological reasons to pursue alternative formulations. To begin, the substitution of socioeconomic status for class is inappropriate. Such measures are a Weberian offshoot of the Marxian conceptualization of class (Bendix 1974). An attractive feature of these measures is that they provide precise, continuous scores that can be used to rank individuals in terms of status. Delinquency theories, however, rarely focus on such fine gradations ..- T'
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class structure, noting that lithe class model implicit in most theories of delinquency is a peculiarly top-heavy, two-class model made up of the overvvhelming majority of respectable people on the one hand and the lumpenproletariat on the other" (1969, p. 71). Conflict and Marxian theories extend attention to the top of the class structure. Still, there is no theoretically informed basis for dividing gradational status measures into discrete class groupings. Alternatively, neo-:t\1arxian scholars have developed survey measures that operationalize the classes in relational, that is, structural, rather than gradational terms (e.g., Wright 1980, p. 198). Within this framework, classes are conceived as not merely "above" or "below" one another. Instead, they are defined in terms of their social relation to one another, with each class located in a discrete structural position within the social organization of the relalions of production. This kind of relational class measure seems especially well suited to the jlmcture we have reached in the empirical study of class and delinquency. Gradational status measures have led researchers to look for an unconditional linear relationship betvveen class and delinquency. But the effect of class on delinquency may be conditioned, indeed suppressed, by other variables (Hirschi 1969, p. 73). Or, to put the matter the other way around, as in the discussion of Banger above, class may condition the influence of other important variables (e.g., gender) on delinquency. Gradational measures of status do not lend themselves to the exploration of these kinds of discrete conditional relationships. The measurement of delinquency is an equally important issue. Selfreport surveys were an important innovation in the measurement of delinquency. They made it possible to collect extensive information on suspected causes of delinquency, along with first-person reports of delinquent behavior. Early self-report surveys concentrated on minor but frequent forms of juvenile misconduct that were only weakly, if at all, related to socioeconomic status. Recent surveys have concentrated on measures of more serious delinquency. The move to more serious selfreport items has important methodological and theoretical implications. Methodologically, as Hindelang et a1. (1979) note, very serious forms of delinquency (such as murder, forcible rape, and armed robbery) are sufficiently rare to make survey designs problematic. Equally important, however, is the fact that conflict, Marxian, and other theories of crime regard conceptions of seriousness as a matter to be explained rather than assumed (e.g., Black 1979). The recent emphasis on "serious" forms of delinquency may therefore mistake an issue of theory for an issue of method. Certainly, it is a mistake to equate what is serious with what is important. Consider the following: Theories of adult criminality are often extensions of theories of
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tached to childhood and adolescent socialization experiences, but also because adolescents are more easily studied. We have few etiological theories of white-collar crime (Wheeler 1976; Hagan, Nage!, and AJbonetti 1980) and no theories of white-collar delinquency. If we restrict our attention to very serious forms of delinquency, there will be little on which to build such theories: the theoretical problem of white-collar delinquency will have been defined away by our measures. Because there will also be very few serious female delinquents, it may be similarly difficult to study gender and delinquency. We are arguing, then, for the moderation of a trend, for the study of more common as well as more serious foons of delinquency. Hindelang et aL defend this position well when they note that "self-report measures of delinquency must reflect the definition of delinquency implicit in the theory at issue .... Restricting research to a single measuring device would inhibit the growth of new theories and would lock the field into a rigid pattern of social reporting or accounting" (1981, pp. 88-89). We now turn to the theory of delinquency we wish to address.
TOWARD A POWER·CONTROL THEORY OF COMMON DELINQUENT BEHAVIOR Two concepts organize the classical theories of delinquency: power and controL The empirical distinction between these concepts is partly one of level of analysis. Power tlleories tend to be macrostructural and control theories microstructural, but they share a structural interest in relations of dominance. Power theories focus on relations of dominance that derive from control over the means of production; control theories focus on relations of dominance established within the family. In this article we join parts of these two theoretical traditions to form a power-control theory of common delinquent behavior. Our discussion will focus on what we have noted to be one of the strongest and most consistent correlations in delinquency research: that between gender and delinquency. Power-control theory specifies where this correlation is strongest and most difficult to remove, as well as where it is weakest and most easily explained. Relations of dominance emphasized in the power tradition, and defined in terms of class, are used to specify the conditions under which the gender-delinquency relationship rises and falls. Relations of dominance emphasized in the control tradition and explored in terms of the family are used to explain gender-delinquency relationships within specific classes. Both the power and control traditions lead us to consider the con..l:"": ___ •• _..l __ •••1-:_1- _..l_1 _____ .. ____ -'-__ -'-_ ..l_ ••
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Both the presence of power and the absence of control contribute to these conditions. It is assumed that freedom to deviate is directly related to class position, that males are freer to deviate than are females, and that males are freest to deviate in the higher classes. Note that this set of assumptions forms a basis for a prediction such as Banger's: the relationship between gender and delinquency will increase with movement up the class structure, and it will decrease with movement down. Our reversal of the theoretically expected, negative class-delinquency relationship is unconventional. but not unprecedented. Indeed, the proposed positive relationship is as durable as the observation that power corrupts and has found one place in sociological theory through Sorokin and Lunden's (1959) Power and Morality. They propose that power has an "intoxifying" effect, such that holders of power come to see themselves as above (i.e., free of) the moral and legal precepts that control ordinary persons. The expected result is that "the moral behavior of ruling groups tends to be more criminal and submoral than that of the ruled strata of the same society" (1959, p. 37). Because "ruling groups" have not been meaningfully distinguished in self-report research, this proposition remains untested for delinquents as well as adults. Instead, it thrives on stories of "rich kids" and tales such as those about the young Kennedys (Collier and Horowitz 1984). A similar theme was suggested in Veblen's The Theory of the Leisure Class. In a passage that stimulated Matza and Sykes's (1961) theory of subterranean values, Veblen wrote that "the ideal pecuniary man is like the ideal delinquent in his unscrupulous conversion of goods and persons to his own ends, and in a callous disregard of [i.e., freedom from] the feelings and -wishes of others or the remoter effects of his actions" (1934, p. 237). Matza and Sykes argue that this similarity reflects a dispersion of leisure class values-the search for adventure, excitement, and thrills, or what we call a "taste for risk"-throughout society, causing delinquency at all class levels. They call special attention to common forms of "white collar delinquency" (p. 718) but stop short of asserting a positive class-delinquency relationship. The dispersion they emphasize has a democratizing, and therefore diminishing, effect. Still, a small positive relationship between class position and common forms of delinquency is fully consistent with Matza and Sykes's theory: the dispersion they propose is downward through the class structure. A power-control theory of delinquent behavior proposes a class-delinquency relationship of similar size and direction. If it is indeed relational position in the social structure, rather than type of individual. that e.xplains delinquent behavior, it should be possible to specify and explain the gender-delinquency correlation by tak-
42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and Jolm Simpson
661
ing relational position fully into account. In the data analysis that follows, we consider these tvvo kinds of relations of dominance: the controls exercised or experienced by the head of household in relation to others in the workplace and the controls exercised by parents in relation to their children. We have already discussed the role of class relations in specifying the gender-delinquency relationship. We turn now to the role of familial controls in transmitting the effects of gender on delinquency within class categories. A fundamental instrument-object relationship structures familybased relations of dominance (Hagan, Simpson, and Gillis 1979). The two sides of this relationship are that mothers more than fathers are the instruments of familial controls and that daughters more than sons are the objects of familial controls. This relationship is the core of what Rosabeth Kanter (1974) calls the "intimate oppression" of informal social control. This is the kind of relationship that a Marxist-feminist theory suggests is central to the "reproduction of order." There is evidence (Cummings 1977) that such an instrument-object cycle even persists among working women who come to believe in "Horatia AIger as a feminist role model"-a woman who makes time to be both the primary socializer of her children and the architect of a career. In other words, even among more liberated women, the instrument-object relationship may be perpetuated. How, then, does this relationship mediate the effects of gender on delinquency? 111e answer to this question ties family relations of dominance to issues of deterrence and legal sanctions. Gibbs provocatively observes, "The secret scandal of the Marxist theory of criminal law is that it tacitly attributes validity to the deterrence doctrine" (1978, p.106). Gibbs makes his point by posing a rhetorical question: "How can legal ptmishment be used as a repressive instrument by a dominant class if the threat of punishment does not deter?" A power-control theory of delinquent behavior asserts that threat of punishment, or at least the perception of such a threat, does deter delinquency. This much is not new. What is new is our argument that the bases of this repressive effect are the relations of dominance established in the family. That is, adolescents, especially female adolescents, are taught to avoid risks generally and the risk of legal sanctions specifically. The testable implications of this part of a power-control theory of delinquency are that females -will be deterred more by the threat of legal sanctions than males and that this effect will be produced more through maternal than paternal controls. The causal model of gender and delinquency that we have described is surrunarized in Figure 42.1. The class categories within which this model will be explored are set out in Table 42.1 (discussed in greater detail below).
662
42. Jolm Hngan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
FIGURE 42.1
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SelfReported Delinquency
Getting Caught Getting Punished
Although the concept of class is central to Marxian and conflict theories of crime (Colvin and Pauly 1983; Spitzer 1975; Greenberg 1977; Chambliss and Seidman 1971; Quirmey 1977; Taylor, Walton, and Young 1973), this concept has never before been operationalized in self-report research (cf. Hagan and Albonetti 1982). Our approach to the measurement of class is informed by Marxian ideas. Most important, we proceed from the assumption that classes are to be measured in relational rather than gradational terms. We use three conceptual criteria to distinguish four class positions. The three criteria consider control over the means of production, control over the work of others, and relationship to labor power. The four class positions include employers, managers, workers, and unemployed workers, whom, following Marx, we call the surplus population. The relationships between the conceptual criteria and class categories are presented in Table 42.1. Respondents are located in class categories on the basis of four survey questions:
CRITERIA FOR CLASS CATEGORIES CONTROL
CONTROL OVER
RELATION
OVER MEANS OF PRODUCTION
WORK OF
TO LADOn
Owner
Nonowner Nonowner
Surplus population Nonowner
OTHERS
POWER
Controls employees
Buys labor
DISTRIBUTION
8.95%
Controls Sells labor subordinates
(201)
No control of others
Sells labor
(174)
No control of others
Unable to selllabor
43.89% 37.99%
9.17%
(42)
The class structure of the gender-delinquency relationship should be reemphasized. What a power-control theory of common delinquent behavior is saying is that in all classes males are freer to be delinquent than females but that it is ID the most powerful classes that males are ~
~~,
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1. 2.
(41)
NOTE-N's in parentheses.
r•.
A NEO-MARXIAN MEASURE OF CLASS
~
t
j
I
Employers Managers
Perceived Silnction Risk
Taste for Risk
Maternal Paternal
I
TABLE 42.1
play a joint role in specifying and mediating this gender-delinquency relationship.
CAUSAL MODEL OF GENDER AND DELINQUENCY
Gender
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663
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3. 4.
"Is the head of your household currently working fulltime?" "Does the head of your household currently work for him/herself or for someone else?" "Are there any people who work for him or her or are paid by him or her?" "Does the head of your household supervise anybody as part of his or her job?"
Employers are first of all owners of the means of production, This criterion is reflected in the second item above: those who work for themselves own some means of production. Second, employers are in control of employees. An affirmative response to question 3 above captures this second dimension. This second criterion is important as a means of eliminating from the employer class persons who are self-employed but employ no others, that is, members of the petty bourgeoisie. (We do not consider the latter class in our analysis because Marxists typically argue that "the petty bourgeoisie represents a remnant from an earlier era of capitalist development and, as a class, ... is progressively becoming less irrmnrt;\nV' rWrio-ht ;mn Pprrnnp 1g77. n. 4:~1.) Third, emolovers are
664
!
New Directions in Deviance Theory
buyers of labot power. This criterion is satisfied by affirmative responses to questions 1 and 2 on current work status. Defined in this way, employers constitute 8.95% of our sample. We refer to the occupants of this class position as "employers" rather than "capitalists" because most in this category employ fewer than 10 workers (Wright 1978, p. 1370). Ideally, we would distinguish between small employers and actual capitalists. As Wright et al. (1982, p. 712) have recently noted, however, to do so is to restrict empirical analyses to an extraordinarily small part of the population that is difficult to reach with a survey design. Our strategy follows Wright in merging small with large employers into a more diffuse "employer" class-category. Our employer class is within about 1% of the estimate given for such a class in Wright's work (see Wright 1978; Wright and Perrone 1977; Wright et al. 1982). Our second class-category consists of managers. Members are identified first as IlO110Wllers by a negative answer to the question about selfemployment. They are also identified as being in control of subordinates by an affirmative answer to the fourth question. Finally, managers are sellers of lnbor. Heads of household are classified thus on the basis of a positive answer to the first question, about current work status, and a negative answer to the second question, about-self employment. Defined in this way, the managerial class constitutes 43.89% of our sample. This figure corresponds closely to the "minimum" estimate given to a combined grouping of managers and supervisors in Wright's most recent American survey (Wright et. al. 1982), a grouping that corresponds to what we are calling the managerial class. This grouping can be reduced by adding considerations of sanction or task authority and hierarchy to the criteria applied. As noted in an earlier section, however, delinquency theory has focused on the top and bottom of the class structure, and we have therefore not introduced this detail into the middle levels of our class analysis. Our third class-category is made up of workers. Members of this class are obviously nOll0WllerS of the means of production; this fact is captured by the self-employment item. Also, they exercise 110 control over the work of others. Negative answers to questions 3 and 4 place heads of households in this category. Finally, they are sellers of labor; this criterion is satisfied by the foregoing information and a positive answer to the question about current work status. Defined in this way, the working class constitutes 37.99% of our sample. Wright et al. observe, "If ... we exclude from the working class those who indicate in their questionnaires that they in any way supervise other people or that they have even very modest levels of autonomy, the size of the working class is reduced to 35 percent" and that "what these figures --- - - - _. ,- 01 __ , "r:o ___ .. ____ L _ C
_
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42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson
665
class. _." (1982, P. 718). Alternative criteria increase the size of the working class and decrease the size of the managerial class. If our criteria are in error, it is probably in the direction of protecting the integrity of the working-class category_ The last category in our classification consists of unemployed workers, whom we call the surplus population. Although Marxian criminologists have emphasized the importance of this class (Colvin and Pauly 1983; Spitzer 1975; Clelland and Carter 1979), recent Marxian operationalizations of the class structure (e.g., Wright 1978; Wright and Perrone 1977; Robinson and Kelly 1979; Wright et al. 1982) have not included it. This is ironic because Marx attached great importance to this "surplus population" in developing his "general law of capitalist accumulation" (1912, p. 7). Because delinquency theories in general, and Marxian theories of crime in particular, attach great significance to the bottom of the class structure, we include the surplus population in our operationalization. The surplus population are l1onowners of the means of production, as indicated by negative responses to the self-employment question; they have no control over other workers, as indicated by responses to questions 3 and 4; and they are unable to sell their lnbor, as indicated by their responses to the questions on current work status. Defined in this way, the surplus population constitutes 9.17% of our sample, a figure that corresponds well to current unemployment statistics. Overall, our measure appears to represent the class structure well. It may slightly underrepresent the working class and slightly overrepresent the managerial class, but even so, the representation of these class es is within the range of reasonable estimates established by Wright's (1982) American survey. At minimum, we have achieved our goal of securing a sample of broad class composition. For purposes of comparison, we also include in our analyses Duncan's (1961) American socioeconomic index of occupations and Blishen's (1961) Canadian occupational class scale. These belong to the type of gradational status measures used in conventional self-report surveys_ w
A THEORETICALLY RELEVANT SCALE OF DELINQUENCY The theory we have proposed assumes that the presence of power and the absence of control exercise their influence, at least in part, through a cognitive process in which actors evaluate courses of action. We have therefore included variables representing actors' socially acquired tastes tn ... rid.. ::In.4 thpir nprC'pntions of the risks of getting caught and pun-
666
New Directions in Deviance Theory
ished, for delinquent behavior, as crucial mediating factors in the causal model depicted in Figure 42.1. 111ese variables represent cognitive states. For them to be operative, there must be some calculation that leads to the delinquent behavior considered. Our premise is that this will be truer of minor forms of theft and aggression than it will be of more seriOllS criminal behavior, particularly the crimes of violence emphasized in indices of "serious" crime and delinquency. Ours is a theory of common delinquent behavior. Past studies of common delinquency have included "many items that are not sufficiently specified to justify the assumption that the reported behavior would be reasonably definable as delinquent" (Hindelang et al. 1981, p. 45). We have addressed this problem by using an adapted version of Hirschi's (1969) self-report delinquency scale. Our only alteration was to restrict the period of coverage to the preceding year, a decision encouraged by Hirschi's subsequent analysis (see 1969, p. 62), by rephrasing the items and using the following as response categories: never, once, two or three times, often, and many times. The sixitem scale asked how often in the last year the respondents had: taken things (worth less than $2.00, between $2.00 and $50, over $50) that did not belong to them; taken a car for a ride without the owner's permission; intentionally banged up something that did not belong to them; and, excluding fights with a brother or sister, intentionally beaten up or hurt anyone. Hirschi contrasts this scale with others, noting that "items included in our delinquency scale have logical validity, since they measure petty theft and grand larceny, auto theft, vandalism (malicious mischief), and battery-all offenses that are commonly thought to result in punishment by agents of the larger society, if detected" (1969, pp. 55-56). Some argue that common delinquencies are not reported as accurately as serious ones (Kleck 1982). The recent work of Hindelang, Hirschi, and Weis suggests that the reverse is true, "apparently because the latter are typically more complex and ambiguous than the former" (Hirschi et al. 1982, p. 434). A second concern involves class bias in recall. Hindelang et al. find no evidence of class bias and instead conclude that "self-report delinquency measures are as valid among lower-class as among middle-class white males" (1981, p. 196). If there were class bias, recent theorizing suggests that it would make self-reports of common ~elinquency a conservative test of a positive claSS-delinquency relationship, because "middle- and upper-class people have more to lose by self-disclosure and therefore would have more incentive to lie" (Tittie, Villemez, and Smith 1982, p. 437; see also Hirschi 1969, p. 60). Scores on the six items are added together to form the delinquency scale used np]mM !hP
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42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson
667
MEASUREMENT OF INTERVENING VARIABLES
ll1ree kinds if intervening variables are included in our causal model of gender and delinquency: parental controls, taste for risk, and perceived sanction risk. Our measures of parental controls are drawn from the work of Hirschi, who regards them as indicators of "attachment" (1969, pp. 88-89). The four questions ask, "Does your (father) (mother) know (where you are) (who you are with) when you are away from horneT' The response categories-"always," "usually." "sometimes," and "never"-are used to form separate two-item additive measures of matemal (a = .66) and paternal (a = .78) controls. We use these items in conjunction with sex of respondent to explore the instrument-object relationship behveen mothers and daughters postulated above. We believe that these measures reflect the means by which important gender relations are established, with implications for intervening attitudes and consequent actions, including delinquent behavior. Among the attitudes that we expect to be influenced by the instrument-object relationship we have emphasized is a socially acquired taste for risk (a = .67). This is measured by adding Likert-scaled responses to MO statements: HI like to take risks" and "The things I like to do best are dangerous." Power-control theory predicts that taste for risk is sexually stratified, with males more than females taught to value risk taking. In turn the taste for risk is expected to sexually stratify perceived risks of getting caught and punished for delinquent behavior. There is now solid evidence that perceived risks of sanctioning deter delinquent behavior (e.g., Jensen, Erickson, and Gibbs 1978; Erickson, Gibbs, and Jensen 1977). Our causal model predicts that a higher taste for risk leads to a lower perceived risk of sanctioning; in other words, taste for risk and perception of risk are inversely related. Perceived risks of getting caught and punished are measured separately. The three "risk of getting caught" items are derived from the work of Jensen et al. (1978) and involve estimations of the likelihood of getting caught for specific delinquent acts. Respondents were asked: "Could you (break into a place) (steal from a store) (write graffiti) and not get caught?" Likert responses ranging from "definitely yes" to "definitely no" were summed to scale perceived risks of getting caught (0; = .76). Perceived risk of punishment was measured by asking respondents to agree or disagree in Likert fashion to more generally formulated statements such as, "If you break the law you will wind up being (charged by police) (sent to court) (sent to an institution)." Scores on these items were summed to scale perceived risks of punishment (0; = .74) ....
668
New Directions in Deviance Theory
DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS Ours is not the first theory of delinquent behavior to be informed by Marxian ideas (see Spitzer 1975; Greenberg 1977; Colvin and Pauly 1983)_ It is, however, the first such formulation to be empirically tested; and it is the first Marxian-based theory to address one of the most important relationships in delinquency research: that betvveen gender and delinquency. We have demonstrated, using a power-control theory of delinquency and a prediction made by Banger more than a half-century ago, that the relationship between gender and common forms of delinquency declines with each step down the class structure. Furthermore, where this relationship is strongest, it can be statistically removed by taking theoretically predicted variables into account. A power-control theory does much to specify and explain the class structure of gender and delinquency, and in doing so it demonstrates the social bases of this relationship. The core assumption of Our theory is that the presence of power and the absence of control create conditions of freedom that permit commOn forms of delinquency. It is important to emphasize that this formulation is different from existing Marxian theories of delinquency. This theoretical difference may derive from the different phenomena selected for explanatory attention. Recently, Marxian theorists have followed delinquency researchers in focusing on serious forms of delinquency. For example, Colvin and Pauly announce in the first sentence of their statement of a "structural-Marxist theory of delinquency production" that their interest is in "serious patterned delinquent behavior, defined as repeated engagement of a juvenile in the FBI's Part One Index crimes" (1983, p. 513)_ We have noted previously that persons high in the class structure rarely commit such offenses even once, much less repeatedly. Thls is, of course, the class premise of a Marxian theory of serious delinquency. The theoretical question is, What is it about conditions at the bottom of the class structure that pressures persons to commit such acts? Our focus, however, has been on common forms of delinquency. We see no reason to assume that class, measured in Marxian terms, is related to common forms of delinquency in the same way that it is to serious delinquency. Indeed, we have argued that positions of power, defined in terms of class and gender, are conducive to higher rates of common delinquency. The theoretical question we ask is, What is it about conditions at the top of the social structure that allows persons to commit such acts? The first kind of theory assumes that people are driven to delinquency; the second, that they are more delinquent because they are free • 1 , TT" ,. 1 -<, """ .. ' .1 _____ • ____ ! _ _ _ _ _ _ _ !"': __ I ~"I"n
42. John Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson
669
support need not mean that the other is wrong. The two kinds of delinquency may demand different explanations. It is important to clarify further why we have focused on common forms of delinquency. Hindelang et a1. have estimated that the annual prevalence of serious delinquency in the population is less that 2%3% (1979, p_ 1010)_ Given the small class fractions that interest Marxian scholars (the surplus population is smaller than 10% and the capitalist class smaller still) and the infrequency of such delinquencies, it will be extremely difficult to test Marxian theories of serious delinquency. The skewness of the two distributions will require either exceptionally large samples or samples that are heavily stratified on the basis of known correlates of serious delinquency (e.g., known court records). The former approach will require financing on a grander scale than contemporary victimization surveys (which involve more than 100,000 screening interviews); the latter approach raises serious problems of generalization, involving a use of official data sources that has thus far proved anathema to radical criminologists. On the basis of this knowledge, we fear that empirical tests of Marxian theories of serious delinquency are unlikely to emerge soon. Meanwhile, there is much to be learned by both Marxists and nonMarxists about the class structw:e of gender and more common forms of delinquency. For example, our data are in some ways quite congenial to a conventional functionalist understanding of stratification and its consequences. Consider our findings regarding one variable, "taste for risk." This variable plays a significant role in mediating the gender-delinquency relationship in the managerial and working class but not in the employer class. To the extent that risk taking is valued, at least among men in Western capitalist societies, the former findings are consistent with traditional understandings of the role of socialization in fostering attitudes that are conducive to upward mobility. Delinquency can be tmderstood here as an unintended consequence. Nonetheless, at the top of the class structure, males in the employer class are more delinquent than females, not because they have a higher taste for risk but simply because they are less controlled by their parents and believe that they are less likely to be punished for their delinquencies. This is the stuff from which more critical theories are made. Our findings therefore are not all of a piece. 111ey do aHinn one simple conclusion, however: Marxists and non-Marxists alli(e will benefit from operationalizing the concepts of class, gender, the delinquency as we have done in U-lis paper. Indeed, our findings indicate that to do otherwise is to obscure the class structure of gender and common forms of delinquency_
670
New Directions in Deviance Theory
REFERENCES Alwin, Duane, and Robert Hauser. 1975. "The Decomposition of Effects in Path Analysis." American Sociological Review 40:3--47.
Bendix, Reinhard. 1974. "Inequality and Social Structure: A Comparison of Marx and Weber," American Sociological Re-view 39:149-61. Black, Donald. 1979. "Common Sense in the Sociology of Law." Americall Soci-
ological Review 44:18-26. Blishen, 8. 1961. "The Construction and Use of an Occupational Class Scale." In Cmtadiall Society, edited by B. Blishen et aL Toronto: Macmillan. Banger, Willinm. 1916. Crime alld Eco!lomic COllditions. Book 2. Boston: Little,
Brown. Braithwaile, Jolm. 1981. "The Myth of Social Class and Criminality Reconsidered." Americall Sociological Review 46:36-57.
Chambliss, William, and Robert Seidman. 1971. Law, Order alld Power. Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley.
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671
Hagan, Jolm, Ilene Nagel, and Celesta Albonetti. 1980. "The Differential Sentencing of White Collar Offenders in Ten Federal District Courts." American Sociologiml Review 45:802-20. Hagan, Jolm, John Simpson, and A. R. Gillis. 1979. "The Sexual Stratification of Social Contro1." British JOl/mal of Sociology 30:25-38. Harris, Anthony. 1977. "Sex and Theories of Deviance: Toward A Functional Theory of Deviant Type-Scripts." American Sociological lli7Jiew 42:3-15. Hindeland, Michael, Travis Hirschi, and Joseph Weis. 1979. "Correlates of Delinquency: The Illusion of Discrepancy between Self-Report and Official Measures." American Sociological Review 44:995-1014. - - - . 1981. Measuring Delinquency. Beverly I-lills, CaliI.: Sage.
Hirschi, Travis. 1969. Causes of Delillquellcy. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. - - - . 1972. "Social Class and Crime." In IssIIe5 ill Social Il1equalihJ, edited by D. Theilbar and S. Feldman. Boston: Little, Brown.
Clelland, Donald, and TImothy Carter. 1980. "The New Myth of Class and Crime." Criminology 18:319-36.
Hirschi, Travis, Ivlichael Hindelang, and Joseph Weis. 1982. "Reply to 'On the Use of Self-Report Data to Detennine the Class Distribution of Criminal and Delinquent Behavior'." American Sociological Review 47:433-35.
Collier, Peter, and David Horowitz. 1984. Kelll1edys: All American Drama. New York: Sunurut.
Jensen, G. E, M. L. Erickson, and J. P. Gibbs. 1978. "Perceived Risk of Punishment and Self-reported Delinquency." Social Forces 57:57-78.
Colvin, Mark, and Jolm Pauly. 1983. "A Critique of Criminology: Toward an Integrated Structural-Marxist Theory of Delinquency Production." American JounInI of Sociology 89:513-52. Curruningsr L. 0.1977. "Value Stretch in Definitions of Career among College Women: Horatio AIger as Feminist Model." Social Problems 25:65-74. Duncan, O. D. 1961. "A Socioeconomic Index for All Occupations." In OccllpatiOIlS alld Social Statl/s, edited by Albert Reiss. New York: Free Press. Eillot, Delbert, and Swan Ageton. 1980. "Reconciling Race and Class Differences in Self-Reported and Official Estimates of Delinquency." American Sociological Review 44:95-110. Erickson, M. L., J. P. Gibbs, and G. F. Jensen. 1977. "Deterrence and the Perceived Certainty of Legal Punishment." American Sociological Review 42:305-7l. Gibbs, Jack. 1978. "Deterrence, Penal Policy and the Sociology of Law." In Research ill Law alld Sociology, edited by Rita Simon. Greenwich, Conn.: JAJ. Greenberg, David. 1977. "Delinquency and the Age Structure ofSodety." Contemporary Crises 1:189-223. Hagan, Jolm, and Celesta Albonetti. 1982. "Race, Class and the Perception of Criminal Injustice in Arrle~ca.1J American JOllmal of Sociology 88:329-55.
Kanter, Rosabeth. 1974. "Intimate Repression." Sociological Quarterly 15 (2): 320-24. Kleck, Gary. 1982. "On the Use of Self-Report Data to Determine the Class Distribution of Criminal and Delinquent Behavior." Americmt Sociological Review 47:427-33. Linden, Rick, and Cathy Fillmore. 1980. }lA Comparative Study of Delinquency Involvement": In Crime ill Canadiall Society, edited by R. Silverman and J. Teevan, Toronto: Butterworths. Marx, Kar!' 1912. Capital. VoL 1. Chicago: Kerr. Matza, David, and Gresham Sykes. 1961. "Juvenile Delinquency and Subterranean Values." American Sociological Review 26:712-17. Quinney, Richard. 1977. Class, State and Crime. New York Longman. Robinson, Robert, and Jonathan Kelly. 1979. "Class as Conceived by Marx and Dahrendorf." American Sociological Review 44:38-58. Rossi, P., E. Waite, C. Base, and R. Berk. 1974. "the Seriousness of Crime: Normative Structure and Individual Differences." America!1 Sociological Review 39:224-37. Simon, Rita. 1975. Women alld Crime. New York: Lexington.
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43. Sally s. Simpson
Simpson, John, and John Hagan. 1983. "Evaluation of a Vandalism Prevention Project." Report of the Research Division. Ottawa: l'v1inistry of the Solicitor General of Canada.
43 Feminist Theory, Crime, and Justice'" SALLY S. SIMPSON
Sorokin, Pitirim, and Waiter Lunden. 1959. Power alld Morality. Boston: Sar-
"WHY CAN'T A WOMAN BE MORE LIKE A MAN?"
673
gent. Spitzer, Steven, 1975. "Toward AMarxian Theory of Deviance." Social Problems 22,638-51. Steffensrnier, D. 1980. "Sex Differences in Patterns of Adult Crimes, 1965-77: A Review and Assessment." Social Forces 58:1080-1108. Taylor, Jan, Paul Waiton, and Jock Young. 1973. Tile New Crimillolog1j. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul Thomberry, Terrence, and Margaret Farnsworth. 1982. "Social Correlates of Criminal Involvement: Further Evidence on the Relationship behveen Social Status and Criminal Behavior." All/erica/! Sociological Review 47:505-17. TIttle, Charles, Wayne ViIlemez, and Douglas Smith. 1978. "The Myth of Sodal Class and Crirninality: An Empirical Assessment of the Empirical Evidence." American Sociological Review 43:643-56. - - - . 1982. "One Step Forward, Two Steps Back: More on the Class/Crirninality Controversy." American Sociological Review 47:435-37.
Veblen, Thorstein. 1934. The T1Jeonj of the LeislIre Class. New York: Mentor. Wheeler, Stanton. 1976. "Trends and Problems in the Sociological Study of Crime." Social Problems 23:525-33. Wright, Erik Olin. 1978. "Race, Class and Income Inequality." Americall JOllrllaI of Sociology 83,1368-97. ---.1980. "Varieties of Marxist Conceptions of Class Structure." Politics nHd Society 9:299-322.
Wright, Erik, Olin, and Luca Perrone. 1977. "Marxist Class Categories and Income Inequality." American Sociological Review 42:32-55. Wright, Erik Olin, Cynthia Costello, David Hachen, and Joey Sprague. 1982. "The American Class Structure." Americall Sociological Review 47:709-26.
One is tempted to respond to Henry Higgin's familiar lament with a cynical observation: criminological theory assumes a woman is like a man. As many feminist-criminologists have noted (early critics include Heidensohn, 1968; Klein, 1973; and Smart, 1976), most middle-range and macro theories of crime generously assume that what is true for the gander is true for the goose (see also Harris, 1977). As tempting as this simple assertion might be, however, a closer, inspection reveals a more complicated picture. Some feminist critics (Daly and Chesney-Lind, 1988) suggest that criminology, like other social sciences, is androcentric, that is, study of crime and the justice process is shaped by male experiences and understandings of the social world. Such studies/ realities form the core of "general" theories of crime/ deviance without taking female experience, as crime participant or victim, into account: [Men] create the world from their own point of view, which Ulen becomes the truth to be described .... Power to create the world from one's point of view is power in its male form (MacKinnon, 1982:23).
Not all criminological research has ignored women, but all too often, pre-1970s research on female offenders and victims of crime fell prey to unreflecting sexism and, in its more extreme form, misogyny. Females who deviated from expected roles were viewed as morally corrupt, hysterical, diseased, manipulative, and devious (Glueck and Glueck, 1934). Law-violating and -conforming behaviors were believed to stem from the same etiological source-the female nature (Edwards, 1985; Klein, 1973).1 A woman, it seemed-whether good or bad-could never be like a man. These observations are not new, but they reflect a different voice, a feminist voice, that has been added to the criminological discourse. The purpose of this review essay is to introduce feminist criminology and its intellectual parent, feminism, to the uninitiated reader. It would be presumptuous to suggest that all relevant studies and arguments about Reprinted from Sally S. Simpson, "Feminist TIleory, Crime, and Justice," Criminology, voL 27, no. 4 (1989), pp. 605-63]. By permission of The American Society of Criminology.
*My thanks to Kathleen Daly, Nicole Halm Rafter, and N. Craig Smith for their insightful comments on a draft of this paper. I was assisted in my revisions by the criticisms of three anonymous reviewers. All of the above are to be commended for their .. "";<'h~~n
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I 43. Sally S. Simpson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
gender and crime are included here. Such an extensive review is more appropriate for a book, and depending on the topic, it has likely already been done and done well (e.g., Eaton, 1986; Freedman, 1981; Heidensolm, 1985; Mann, 1984; Naffine, 1988; Smart, 1976).lnstead, illustrative examples of different types of feminist Htinking are presented to show how feminism has reframed our points of reference, underlying assumptions, and understandings about crime, victimization, and the justice process. To achieve these aims, the paper is organized into three sections. First, the perspectives and methods that constitute feminist analysis are sorted and differentiated. Second, three areas of criminological study (the female offender, female victim, and criminal justice processing) are discussed because they are key areas in which feminist approaches have been incorporated. Third, directions for further integration are suggested.
FEMINISM: PERSPECTIVES AND METHODS Feminism is best understood as both a world view and a social movement that encompasses assumptions and beliefs about the origins and consequences of gendered social organization as well as strategic directions and actions for social change. As such, feminism is both analytical and empirical. In its incipient form, feminist research almost exclusively focused on women-as a way of placing women at the center of inquiry and building a base of knowledge. As it has matured, feminism has become more encompassing, taking into account the gendered understanding of all aspects of human culhlre and relationships (Stacey and Thorne, 1985:305). It would be a mistake, however, to think of feminism as a single theory. Feminism has expanded into a diverse set of perspectives and agendas, each based on different definitions of the "problem," competing conceptions of the origins and mechanisms of gender inequality / oppression, and divergent strategies for its eradication. Collectively, these perspectives share a concern with identifying and representing women's interests, interests judged to be insufficiently represented and accommodated withln the mainstream (OakJey, 1981:335).
675
of influence and traditional attitudes about the appropriate role of men and women in society (Pateman, 1987). Such attitudes are reinforced by discrimination against women in education, the work place, politics, and other public arenas. Liberals do not believe the system to be inherently unequal; discrimination is not systemic. Rather, men and women can work together to "androgynize" gender roles (i.e., blend male and female traits and characteristics; Bern, 1974) and eliminate outdated policies and practices that discriminate against women. Affirmative action, the equal rights amendment, and other equal opportunity laws/policies are advocated as redistributive measures until a meritocratic gender restructuring of society occurs. SOCIALIST FEMINISM
For socialists, gender oppression is an obvious feahrre of capitalist societies. Depending on whether one is a socialist woman (Marxist-feminist) or a socialist-feminist, however, the weight that one gives to capitalism as a necessary and/or sufficient cause of that oppression will vary (Eisenstein, 1979). If one is the former, gender (and race) oppression is seen as secondary to and reflective of class oppression. Socialist-feminists attempt a synthesis between two systems of domination, class and patriarchy (male supremacy). Both relations of production and reproduction are structured by capitalist patriarchy (Beauvoir, 1960; Hartmann, 1979; Mitchell, 1971). Gender difference, as defining characteristic of power and privilege in a capitalist society can only be attacked by constructing a completely different society; one that is free of gender and class stratification (Oakley, 1981). RADICAL FEMINISM
Liberal feminism was conceived within a liberal-bourgeois tradition that called for women's equality of opportunity and freedom of choice (Eisenstein, 1981). For the most part, liberal feminists see gender in-
The origins of patriarchy, and the subordination of women therein, are seen by radical feminists to rest in male aggression and control of women's sexuality. Men are inherently more aggressive than women, who, because of their relative size disadvantages and dependency on men during child-bearing years, are easy to dominate and control. The arguments of radical feminists (e.g., Atkinson, 1974; Barry, 1979: Firestone, 1970; Rich, 1980) bring sexuality to the analytical fore. The "personal" is "political" (MilIett, 1971). Sex not gender is the crucial analytical category; male domination, not class, is the fundamental origin of female subordination. Radical feminists' political and social agendas encompass lesbian separatism (Atkinson, 1984) and technological
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WOMEN OF COLOR
In her eloquent "Ain't I a woman" speech, Sojourner Truth (1851) informed white suffragists of their myopia about race by highlighting how as a black woman her experience was different from theirs. Joseph and Lewis (1981) remind us that Truth's commentary is no less relevant today. Many women of calor see the women's liberation movement as hopelessly white and middle class, immune to their concerns. As Hooks (1987:62) observed, Most people in the United States thinlc of feminism ... as a movement that aims to make women the social equals of men .... Since men are not equals in white 5upremacist, capitalist, patriarchal class structure, which men do women want to be equallo?
'TIle alternative frameworks developed by women of calor heighten feminism's sensitivity to the complex inlerplay of gender, class, and race oppression. Fah'iarchy permeates the lives of minority women, but it does not take the same form that it does for whites (Brittan and Maynard, 1984). Though these contributions may not have coalesced yet into a coherent theoretical framework (at least according to Jagger and Rothenberg, 1984), radical (Lorde, 1988), socialist (Mullins, 1986), and Marxist (Davis, 1981) women of calor have provided possible points of integration with theories of race oppression (e.g., Joseph, 1981a, 1981b; Wellrnan, 1977). In sum, feminist theory is not one perspective; it is a cacophony of comment and criticism "concerned with demystifying masculine knowledge as objective knowledge" (Brittain and Maynard, 1984:210) and offering insights from a women's perspective.
entific community. This view "in no way conflicts either with traditional conceptions of science or with current liberal, egalitarian politics" (p. 114). From this point, however, the criticisms become increasingly fundamental to the way knowledge is produced; they range from charges of bias in selecting research topics and interpreting results to rejecting rationality and objectivity as purely male products. More radical feminists have adopted a methodological strategy that is in direct opposition to the scientific method. In order to "see" women's existence (which has been invisible to objective scientific methods) "feminist women must deliberately and courageously integrate ... their own experiences of oppression and discrimination ... into the research process" (Miles, 1983:121). Feminist metlzods are necessarily subjectivist, lTansdiciplinary, nonhierarchical, and empowering. Where one falls along Keller's feminist-political spectnlm will determine one's choice of methods (i.e., quantitative versus qualitative) and whether one sees methods and theory as interrelated as opposed to separate and distinct. Thus, methods used by feminists are more diverse than typically credited (for examples, see Jayarate, 1983; Reinhartz, 1983; Stacey and Thorne, (1985). Together, the above theoretical and methodological points form a feminist perspective. All have been incorporated into criminology, but some have had a greater impact than others. The goal in the next section is to identify the ways in which these approaches and methods have changed the way criminologists address the problems of crime and justice.
INCORPORATING THE FRAMEWORKS
FEMINIST METHODS
The male epistemological stance, whidl corresponds to the world it creates, is objectivitYi tile ostensibly uninvolved stance, the view from a distance and from no particular perspective, apparently transparent la its reality. It does not comprehend its own perspectivity, does not recognize what it sees as subject like itself, or that the way it apprehends its world is a form of its subjection and presupposes it (MacKinnon (1982:23-24).
THE FEMALE OFFENDER
Concern over the nonobjective consequences of so-called objective normal science (Kuhn, 1970) has led some feminists to challenge the scientific enterprise. Keller (1982) arranges these challenges on a political spectrum from slightly left of center (liberal feminists) to the more radical left. The liberal critique takes an equal employment opportuni,
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The stirrings of feminist criminology are nearly two decades old. Heidensohn (1968:171), in a "pre-feminist" paper, bemoaned t1,e state of knowledge about female deviance and called for a "crash programme of research which telescopes decades of comparable studies of males." Later, ](jein (1973) and Smart (1976) were to bring explicitly feminist perspectives to their critiques of extant theoretical and empirical work on the female offender. Klein, a Marxist-feminist, noted the absence of economic and other social explanations for female crime. Smart, working within more of a radical feminist perspective, stressed the linkages among sexist theory, patriarchy, and sexism in practice-specifically
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the causes of female crime and how female offenders are controlled and treated. Both Klein and Smart set an agenda for a new feminist criminology, but their more radical approaches were derailed by the publication of Simon's Women alld Crime and F. Adler's Sisters in Crime (1975). Claiming that a "new" female offender was emerging (white collar and! or male like), Simon and Adler generated tremendous interest in female crime (a clear aim of incipient feminism). But, tying the female offender's emergence to women's liberation brought about a "moral panic" (Smart, 1976), which was viewed by some as a blacklash to the women's movement.J In Chesney-Lind's (1980:29) words, it represented "another in a century long series of symbolic attempts to keep women subordinate to men by theatening those who aspire for equality with the images of the witch, the bitch, and the whore."4 As with many social problems of our day, female crime became interesting only when it transcended the expected boundaries of class, race, and gender. As a "quasi-theory," the liberation-crime relationship had great appeal for nonfeminist criminologists. s But tests of the thesis were less than supportive. In fact most discredited it (Austin, 1982: Giordano et al., 1981), and others found evidence of a link between female crime and economic marginalization (Datesman and Scarpitti, 1980; Gora, 1982; Mukherjee and Fitzgerald, 1981; Steffensmeier, 1978, 1981; Steffensmeier and Cobb, 1981). The new female offender identified by Simon and Adler was more myth than reality (Steffensmeier, 1978). These conclusions did not cliffer substantially from IGein's (1973), yet they came years after her original critique-a fact that dramatically illustrates the marginality of feminist criminology at the time. Yet, subsequent research on the causes of female crime has clearly buttressed the economic/ class perspectives of Marxist/ socialist feminists as well as the "opportunity" perspectives of the liberal feminists (Ageton 1983; Box, 1983; Box and Hale, 1984; Elliot and Ageton, 1980; Giordano et aI., 1981). In retrospect, feminist criminology both gained and lost from the narrow focus on liberation and crime. On the plus side, we gained a better insight into the historical (Mukherjee and Fitzgerald, 1981) and cross-cultural (F. Adler, 1981; Plenska, 1980) patterns of female crime. But because the liberation thesis was so limited, it diverted attention from the material and structural forces that shape women's lives and experiences. It is in these areas that women of color and socialist and radical feminist criminologists are more apt to focus etiological attention (Hagan et al., 1985, 1987; Lewis, 1981; Miller, 1985; Rafter and Natalizia, 1981; Wilson, 1985).
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WOMEN VICTIMS: THE RADICAL FEMINIST CRITIQUE
Liberal feminism has dominated studies of the female offender, but the same is not true of victimology (Daly and O,esney-Lind, 1988). Shifting away from analyses that blame tile victim for her victimization (Amir, 1967),6 radical feminists have constructed alternative interpretations of offender-victim relationships and victim experiences of criminal justice (Chapman and Gates, 1978; Klein, 1981; Wood, 1981). Brownmiller's (1975) historical and cross-cultural study of rape brought a radical feminist perspective to the center of public consciousness. Building on the argument that rape is not a crime of sex but rather an act of power and dominance (Greer, 1970), Brownmiller concluded that rape is a tool in the arsenal of all men to control all women. Radical feminists have refrarned the ways in which rape is commonly understood in our society. Rather than a crime of sex, it is more apt to be viewed as one of male power, control, and domination. Brownmiller's work, coupled with that of other radical feminists (e.g., Griffin, 1979; Riger and Gordon, 1981), opened a floodgate of inquiry into rape and other types of victimizations that are "uniquely feminine" (Wilson, 1985:4), such as pornography (Dworkin, 1981), battering (Dobash and Dobash, 1979; Martin, 1976; Straus et al., 1980), incest (Finkelhor, 1979; Moyer, 1985; Stanko, 1985) and sexual harassment (MacKinnon, 1979; Stanko, 1985). Guiding much of this research is the radical feminist critique of official conceptions and definitions of violence, which are viewed as male centered and incapable of incorporating the full range of female experiences of violence (i.e., from intimidation and coercion to physical violence and death). A women-centered definition of violence is one that portrays violence as a form of social domination rather than a random and/or noninstrumental form of expression (Hanmer, 1981:32). Radical feminists have dominated but not monopolized feminist perspectives in this area. Socialist feminists, liberals, and women of calor have also participated in the dialogue. Gordon's (1988) research of family violence is implicitly critical of some radical feminists' overly deterministic conception of patriarchy. Such an image, she argues, denies agency to women and cannot incorporate "the chronic conflict, unpredictability, and ambivalent emotions that have characterized relations betvveen the sexes" (xi-xii). In another historical study, Tomes (1978) links variations in spousal abuse to changes in the economic position of the working class generally and the male's position within the family specifically. As the working class improved its economic position and males cemented greater power
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within their families, tile official incidence of working-class battering decreased. Based on her findings, Tomes argues that feminists may need to reconceptualize the relationship among male power, female economic dependency, and battering. Dependency is not necessarily tied to greater abuse; in fact, the opposite may be true. A wife's economic independence may exert a greater challenge to male authority within the family, thus creating a climate in which husbands resort to battering as a means to reestablish their control. Studies that find great variety in the cross-cultural prevalence and incidence of rape and battering (e.g., Pagelow, 1981; Sanday, 1981) have forced feminists to examine patriarchal relations across different societal and situational arrangements (e.g., Wilson, 1985). If female victimization is a function of changing the needs of a capitalist/patriarchal system, then male domination and its relationship to female victimization need not be viewed as inevitable or immutable. Around the themes of rape and control of sexuality, patriarchy and racism marry and divorce in intricate ways (Davis, 1981). In the United States, white racism and fear gave rise to mythological constructions of black sexuality. Black males are perceived as sexual threats and have been hunted and hanged for their "rape potential." For black victims of rape the justice process is not simply gendered-it is racially gendered. Data indicate that black-an-black rapes are not taken as seriously by authorities as those that involve white victims (Kleck, 1981; LaFree, 1980). Such findings have led one prominent black scholar aoseph, 1981b:27) to comment, "It must be considered an impossibility for white men to rape Black women in the eyes of justice and in the minds of many. Black women apparently are considered as something other than 'women'." GENDER AND JUSTICE PROCESSING
A final area to be discussed in this literature review is gendered justice. Comedian Richard Pryor once called attention to discrimination in the U.S. criminal justice system by defining justice as "just us." His concern with differential sentencing practices is one shared by feminists who primarily study the conditions under which criminal justice is gendered and with what consequences. Although liberal approaches typically dominate the gender-and-justice research, other feminist perspectives are gaining ground-especially in research on courts and corrections. There are many stages in the criminal justice system at which gender may have an impact on'decision making. The findings of some of the
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better known studies of several strategic points in the decision-making process are summarized below. Police Arguments about whether and how justice is gendered must begin with police behavior. 111at police decisions to arrest can be influenced by extralegal factors such as the demeanor of the offender (Black, 1980), has been established. It is less clear how gender, either alone or in conjunction with other characteristics, may consciously or inadvertently influence police behavior. In the liberal "equal treatment" tradition, Moyer and White (1981) test police bias in response decisions under "probable" responses to hypothetical situations. Neither gender nor race had an effect on police behavior once crime type, especially as it interacts with demeanor of the offender, was controlled. On the other hand, Freyerhem's (1981) comparison of juvenile male and female probabilities of transition from self-report incident to police contact and arrest, finds males to be more likely to incur police contact and arrest than females. Both of these studies are methodologically problematic, however. Moyer and White cannot generalize their findings to real police encounters and Freyerhern (1981:90) does not calculate transition probabilities across individual offense categories, nor does he include status offenses. Avoiding some of these methodological traps but still working within a liberal tradition, Visher (1983) finds the interaction between race and gender to be a key factor influencing arrest decision. Visher finds police chivalry only toward white females once "legal" factors are controlled. She hypothesizes that black females are treated more harshly than their white counterparts because they are less apt to display expected (Le., traditional) gender behaviors and characteristics when they encounter a mostly white and male police force. Race and gender are also found to interact through victim characteristics (Smith et al., 1984). An analysis of 272 police-citizen encounters, in which both a suspected offender and victim were present, revealed that white female victims received more preferential treatment from police than black female victims. Thus, although chivalry may be alive and well for white women, it appears to be dead (if it ever existed) for blacks.
Courts Police contact is not the only point in justice processing at which discrimination can occur. Women have been found to receive more lenient treatment in the early stages of court processing (Le., bail, release on
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New Directions in Deviance TIleory
own recognizance, and/or cash alternatives to bail; 1. Nagel, 1983) and further into the process, e.g., conviction and sentencing (Bernstein et aI., 1977; S. Nagel and Weitzman, 1972; Simon, 1975). Other studies find no gender bias when controlling for crime seriousness and prior record (Farrington and Morris, 1983) or little effect from extralegal factors when legal factors and bench bias are controlled (L Nagel, 1983). Variation in sentencing may be related to so-called counter-type offenses, that is, women are treated more harshly when processed for nontraditional female crimes, like assault (Bernstein et al., 1977; S. Nagel and Weitzman, 1972), or when they violate female sexual norms (Chesney-Lind, 1973; Schlossman and Wallach, 1978). Given variable-specification problems, however, some of these findings are potentially spurious. Once again, race may confound these effects. Spohn et al. (1982) address the issue of paternalism in sentencing, especially for black women. Controlling for prior record and attorney type, they found that black women are incarcerated significantly less often than black men, but about as often as white men. They conclude that the apparently lenient treatment of black women is not due to paternalism in their favor but rather to the racial discrimination against black vis-a.-vis white men. Studies of court processing are not enlirely dominated by liberal perspectives. More critical perspectives emphasize social power and patriarchal control as the primary mechanisms through which justice is gendered (Kruttschnitt, 1982, 1984). Eaton (1986:35) argues that magistrate courts in Great Britain (the lower courts) reinforce the dominant imagery of justice (i.e., courts are ostensibly fair and just) while they maintain the status quo: "It is in these courts that the formal rules of society-the laws-are endorsed; it is here, too, that the informal, unwritten rules regulating social relations [e.g., gender, class and race] are re-enacted." When are females apt to be subjected to formal mechanisms of control? When other, more informal, constraints are lacking or disrupted. Kruttschnitt (1982, 1984) suggests that sentencing outcomes are affected by a women's social status and/or her respectability. Differential sentencing among women is tied to the degree to which women are subjected to formal versus informal social control in their everyday lives. Daly (1987a, 1989b) and Eaton (1986, 1987) offer convincing evidence that the most important factor determining sentence outcome, once prior record and offense seriousness are controlled, is marital and/ or familial status.? Marital status has been found to matter for women (married receive more lenient sentences) but not for men (Farrington and Morris, 1983;LNagel, 1981) or to be as important for both (Daly, 1987a, 1987b). .
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Pretrial release and sentencing are seen to be both "familied" and "gendered." They are familied in that court decisions regarding the removal of men and women from families "elicit different concerns from the court" (Daly 1987a:154). They are gendered in that women's care of others and male economic support for families represent" different types of dependencies in family life" (p. 154). Men and women without family responsibilities are treated similarly, but more harshly than familied men and women. Women with families, however, are treated with the greatest degree of leniency due to "the differing social costs arising from separating them from their families" (Daly, 1987b:287). The economic role played by familied men can, more easily, be covered by state entitlement programs, but it is putatively more difficult to replace the functional role of familied women. Judges rationalize such sentencing disparities as necessary for keeping families together (Daly, 1989b). As these latter studies suggest, much of the observed gender bias in processing may not be a case of overt discrimination for or against women relative to men. Instead, judicial decisions may be influenced by broader societal concerns about protecting nuclear families (Daly, 1989b) and the differing roles and responsibilities contained therein (Eaton, 1986). It is not clear that such forms of justice are overtly paternalistic, nor are they necessarily racist. Rather, in a society that stratifies other rights and privileges by gender, race, and class, "equality" in sentencing may not be just (Daly, 1989a). Eaton (1986:10-11) takes a somewhat different view of familied justice. In her opinion, the courts reflect the needs and interests of patriarchy and capitalism, in which attendant inequities are reproduced. "Family-based" justice is a visible manifestation of the patriarchal and capitalist need to maintain and protect the nuclear family-within which gender and productive/reproductive relations first emerge. Corrections As it became clear that, compared with males, female prisoners were treated differently (in some cases more leniently and in others more harshly), liberal feminist perspectives came to dominate research questions and policy considerations (see, Haft, 1980; Heide, 1974; Simon, 1975). The linkages between female incarceration and male control of female sexuality are developed by radical feminists (Chesney-Lind, 1973; Smart, 1976). Rasche (1974), for example, describes how prostitutes with venereal disease were prosecuted and institutionalized, with the "cure" as a condition of release. Nondiseased prostitutes were less likely to go to jail or prison. Certain prison practices, such as checking for evidence
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
of a hymen during forced physical examinations and vaginal contraband searches, have been used as techniques to control the sexuality of youthful offenders and to humiliate and degrade female inmates (Burkhart, 1973; Chesney-Lind, 1986). Socialist feminists emphasize how prison tenure and treatment vary by class and race (Freedman, 1981; French, 1977, 1978; Lewis, 1981; Rafter, 1985). In her historical accounting of the development of women's prisons, Rafter (1985:155) observes how race determined whether and where a woman was sent to prison. Comparison of incarceration rates and in-prison treatment of black women and white women demonstrates that partiality was extended mainly to whites. Chivalry filtered them out of the prison system, helping to create the even greater racial imbalances among female than
male prisoner populations. And partiality toward whites contributed to the development of a bifurcated system, one track custodial and predominantly black, the other reformatory and reserved mainly for whites. The bifurcated system of women's corrections emerges in part from twu competing images of female nature. In one view, women are seen as fragile and immature creatures, more childlike than adult. Consequently, the female offender is perceived as a "fallen woman," in need of guidance but not a true danger to society (Rasche, 1974). The reformatory is perfectly suited to such an offender. Primarily staffed by reform-minded middle-class women, reformatory training programs emphasized skills that would turn the white, working-class misdemeanants into proper (and class-appropriate) women, that is, good servants or wives (Rafter, 1985:82). In custodial prisons, however, a different archetype dominated. Women's "dark side," their inherent evil and immorality (Smart, 1976) shaped plison philosophy. Here, the predominantly black felons (who were perceived as more masculine, more sel£-centered, volatile, and dangerous) were treated like men-only, given the conditions of their incarceration (i.e., fevvness of numbers and at the mercy of violent male offenders), their equality was tantamount to brutal treatment and often death (Rafter, 1985:181). The degree to which prisons function as something other than just places of punishment and/ or treatment is a popular theme in neo-Marxist literature. Extending this interpretation to women, Marxist-feminists (e.g., Wilson, 1985; Hartz-Karp, 1981) argue that prisons, like other institutions of social control (e.g., mental health facilities), retool deviant women for gender-appropriate roles in capitalist patriarchal societies: If deviant women are more frequently assigned to the mental health •
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haps because of the superior ability of the mental health system to "retool" worn-out or rebellious domestic workers. (Wilson, 1985:18) SocietaI control of female deviance serves the needs of capital. When those needs change, so too will the mechanisms and directions of social controLB In this vein, Carlen (1983) demonstrates how udovm, out and disordered" women in Scotland are disciplined through medical and judicial apparatuses. Most of the imprisoned are poor women; many have histories of alcohol and drug abuse, and a large number come from violent homes. These life experiences combine, setting into motion a cycle of deviance, imprisonment, and patriarchal and class discipline that is tenacious and defeating: Being seen as neither wholly mad nor wholly bad, [women] are treated to a disciplinary regime where they are actually infantalised at the same time as attempts are made to make them feel guilty about their double, triple, quadruple, or even quintuple refusal of family, work, gender, health, and reason (Caden, 1983:209).
WHERE TO GO FROM HERE? In 1976, Carol Smart suggested a number of topics for feminists research.9 A decade later, feminist criminology has amassed a considerable body of knowledge in most of these areas-so much so in fact that feminists now are more self-critical-especially in the areas of policy and legislative changes (see Daly and Chesney-Lind, 1988). TItis is a positive step. It suggests not only that a feminist voice is being heard, but that it is loud enough to produce disagreement and intellectual exchange. Nonetheless, certain areas in criminology, either have been underexposed or are resistant to feminist concerns. Thus, SOme new directions for feminist criminology are discussed below. 1o RACE AND CRIME
Poorly conceived offender self-report surveys provided criminologists with the empirical justification to ignore the race-crime relationship, and the prevailing political climate reinforced our myopia. There is enormous risk in ignoring that relationship, however. First, based on more sophisticated crime measures (e.g., National Youth Survey.. National Crime Survey, cohort studies), it is clear that the race-crime· relationship is an essential one. Second, and not unlike the gender-crime relationship, such reticence leaves the interDretive door ooen to less critical npr.<:;nprtivp~ .
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
Feminist criminologists have great potential in this area, but the data are sparse and problematic and the analytic contributions few. Too often we rely on quantitative studies that dichotomize race into white and black, or the nonwhite category is broadened to include groups other than blacks (see, e.g., Tracy et al., in press). In the former instance, other ethnic/racial groups are ignored; in the latter, such inclusive categorizations assume etiological and historical! cultural invariance between groups. Clearly, one of the first places for feminists to start is to target women of color for greater research. Available data indicate that there are significant differences between black and white female crime rates (Age ton, 1983; Chilton and Datesman, 1987; Hindelang, 1981; Laub and McDermott, 1985; Mann, 1987; Young, 1980). Simpson (1988), Miller (1985), and Lewis (1981) argue that the unique structural and cultural positioning of black women produces complex cultural typescripts that exert push-pull pressures for crime, pressure that may not exist for white women. Miller's (1985;177-178) etlmography of lower-class deviant networks describes how certain types of male and female criminality (e.g., hustling, pimping, and other instrumental crimes) are interdependent in minority communities. Female crime also appears to have a groupdirected and -enacted dimension (see Young, 1980). The collective nahlre of such minority offending may stem from the fact that it emerges, in part, from the integrated and extended domestic networks of underclass blacks (Miller, 1985) and from joint participation in gang activities (Campbell,1984). These observations do not imply, however, that patriarchy is absent from these communities. Male dominance and control are reproduced within interpersonal relationships (not necessarily familial) and embodied in informal organizations, like gangs (Campbell, 1984) and state social service agencies. Some female offending can be interpreted as challenging patriarchal control and asserting independence (Campbell, 1984:135); much can be attributed to both economic necessity and the pull and excitement of street life (Campbell, 1984; Miller, 1985). Female participation in violent crime may stem from abusive relationships behveen men and women (Browne, 1987; Mann, 1987) and/or the frustration, alienation, and anger that are associated with racial and class oppression (Simpson, 1988). Research by Hill and Suval (1988) suggests that the causes of crime may differ for black and white women, which raises questions about whether current theories of female crime, including fentinist perspectives, are white-female centered. Given the paucity of data on how gen-
I
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der structures relationships within minority communities and families, it is impossible to say. More quantitative research is needed on minority groups other than blacks (e.g., Chicanos and other Hispanics, Asians, Native Americans) to establish a better knowledge base, but qualitative studies that probe culhlre and subjective differences behNeen women of calor and whites are also essential (MuIlins, 1986). Feminist criminologists are guilty of the "add race and stir" shortsightedness that pervades feminist thinking. We would do well to heed Speiman's (1988:166) reminder of how to understand and approach differences among women: If we assume there are differences among women, but at the same time they are all the same as women, and if we assume the woman part is
what we know from looking at the case of white middle-class women, then we appear to be talking only about white middle-class women. This is how white middle-class privilege is maintained even as we purport to recognize the importance of women's differences.
ELITE CRIME [n 1977, Harris admonished criminologists for their failure to use lithe sex variable" as the empirical building block for all theories of criminal deviance. Apparently (though not surprisingly) this was interpreted to apply only to street crime. The entire are of white-collar, corporate, and organizational crime has not been examined from a feminist perspective. Officially, women are underrepresented in white-collar crime data although recent Bureau of Justice Statistics (1987) data suggest that women have made inroads into this formerly male domain. Similar claims are made regarding female penetration of the upper reaches of organized crime (Simpson, 1987). Yet, Daly (1988) finds neither the crime types nor the offenders themselves to be particularly elite. Much of our information on female participation in organized Clime is anecdotal, derived from the nonsystematic observations of male crime participants. Consequently, there has been little systematic research on women's penetration of and mobility within illicit markets. The official data on corporate and other white-collar offending are equally problematic (see Reiss and Biderman, 1980). Given that both the data and interpretation/ theory in these areas are suspect, fentinist researchers must first develop an empirical base with which to answer the following types of questions. Is elite crime a male domain (Steffensmeier, 1983)? What are the motivations and characteristics of women who do participate (Daly, 1988; Zietz, 1981)? How are they similar and different from
688
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New Directions in Deviance Theory
male offenders (P. Adler, 1985; Block, 1977; Simpson, 1987)? What explains the official increase in female participation in white-collar offenses? At this point, feminists have barely scratched the surface of the elite crime area. Daly (1988) is providing some direction, but much more needs to be done. DETERRENCE
Gender confounds the anticipated relationship between objective sanclion risks and criminal activity, that is, given that female sanction risks are low, women should have high rates of law breaking. Yet, as virtually all measures of crime document, the exact opposite is true. This empirical relationship has left deterrence theorists scrambling to make sense of the inconsistency. Richards and little (1981:183-185) argue that there are at least five lines of reasoning that would predict that women perceive higher levels of risk than do men. Using measures derived from these hypotheses, they find two variables, stakes in conformity and perceptions of visibility, to be highly associated with gender differences in perceived chances of arrest: Women may think that legal sanction is relatively certain because they are more lil<ely to think of themselves as subject to surveillance and general social sanctions than are men. Their greater relative stakes in conformity may make deviance more threatening for them, and lead to high sanction risk estimates (p. 196).
The social control literature, in general, characterizes female conformity in a stereotypical manner. Conforming females are seen as passive, compliant, and dependent. Instead, Naffine (1988:131) suggests that the conforming women be seen as lIinvolved and engrossed in conventionallife. But. .. also actively concerned about the affects of her behavior on her loved ones, particularly emotionally and financially dependent children." (Naffine is especially critical of Hagan et al., 1979, 1985, 1987.) Naffine's image of conformity is partially influenced by Gilligan's (1982) work in moral development theory. Gilligan's research discovers that men and women use "a different voice" when they talk about moral responsibility. If the moral calculus of reasoning about crime is different between men and women, Gilligan may have identified a new way of conceptualizing gender differences in (1) perceived threat of sanction and (2) male-female crime rates. According to her theory, men often make moral decisions based on an "ethic of justice," while women employ a model of decisibn making based on "ethic of care." The former ;,.. "" ....... ,..,. ...... ""h... h-"" ....;. ,..,...,"'...:1 ....1
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and rules (e.g., Kohiberg, 1981). In the latter, decisions are governed by "a psychological logic of relationships, which contrasts with the formal logic of fairness that informs the justice approach" (Gilligan, 1982: 73). A woman's decision to violate the law will depend on her definition of the moral domain (i.e., how will my act affect those around me, those who count on me). It is not surprising that in some deterrence studies (Finley and Grasmick, 1985) women score significantly higher than men on measures of internalized guilt. Because women are responsible for the care of relationships, any act that may result in their removal from that role is apt to produce a tremendous sense of guilt. Guilt may be negated if the needs of the family (for food or other valued items) outweigh the "immorality" of breaking the law to obtain them or if others are available to take on the responsibilities of care. Gilligan's theory can be used to explain why most women do not vialate the law and why they score higher on most measures of deterrence. It can also explain class and race differences in female crime rates. Lower-class and minority women are more apt to find themselves in situations that require a renegotiation of the moral domain and, given their kinship networks, they have a greater chance of finding care substitutes (Miller, 1985). Not surprisingly, Fioley and Grasmick (1985) report that blacks score lower on certainty and severity of guilt than their white counterparts. Some critics suggest that Gilligan's findings are biased (she interviewed mostly middle-class students) or that they may be a function of subordinate female social position, not real differences in ethical philosophies (Toronto, n.d.). These are important criticisms that must be addressed before we proceed too enthusiastically. Gilligan's conceptualization of differences in gender-based moral reasoning, however, are an important contribution and warrant further research.
CONCLUSION Feminlst criminology has changed dramatically since Klein (1973) and smart (1976) first called attention to it. Replicating the same political and analytical development as the broader feminist movement, feminist contributions to the study of crime and justice began with more liberal approaches and have recently been giving way to more radical critiques. Liberal feminist dominance rests, in part, in ideological coherencethese approaches correspond closely with the ideas and beliefs embodied in most capitalist democracies. Thus, liberalism in any form is less threatening and more acceptable than a feminism that questions white, lTl~lo
:o!nrl! nr f':o!nib li..:t nMvilpap 11 A rlrlitinn;\llv lihpr;\l fpTniniRh; .<::np<'Ik
690
43. Sally S. Simpson
New Directions in Deviance Theory
in the same voice as a majority of social scientists, that is, they are rational, objective, and (typically) quantitative. Consequently, their data and interpretations carry more weight within the scientific community and among their peers. TIlOugh liberal/ quantitative approaches offer important insights
4.
into gender as a "variable" problem (Stacey and Thome, 1985), criminologists need to be more ecumenical in studying gendered society. If we emphasize qualitative (e.g., Campbell, 1984; Carien, 1986; Eaton, 1986; Miller, 1985), historical (Gordan, 1988; Freedman, 1981; Rafter, 1985), and subjectivist (Stacey and Thorne, 1985) approaches in addition to quantitative, the detail and texture of how crime and justice are gendered will lead to richer theory and better criminology. There are areas in criminology into which feminists have only marginally ventured or in which their contributions have been of little Consequence. In their review of feminist criminology, Daly and Chesney-Lind (1988:512-513) discuss the problems that feminists have had building and developing theories of female crime. It is not coincidental that the areas targeted for further research in this paper (e.g., race and crime, elite crime, and deterrence) all focus on this problematic area. Until we can better deal with the empirical complexities of criminal offending, it will be too easy for our critics to dismiss feminist contributions to the study of crime as facile, rhetorical, and/ or atheoretical.
5.
6.
7. 8.
NOTES 1.
2.
3.
This is not to suggest that biological reductionisrn is absent in studies/theories of male criminality. Such explanations of male crime abound (e.g., Wilson and Hermstein, 1985). However, with the demise of phrenology, social factors replaced biology as key etiological forces. These explanations have not been seriously challenged. Conversely, until the feminist critique of the 1970s, biogenic/psychogenic models of female crime went, for the most part, unchallenged. Phillips (1987) argues that the choice of terms describing gender relations imply particular views of what the problem is. So, inequality (a term favored by liberals and some women of col or) suggests that women deserve what men and/or whites are granted. Oppression (socialists and women of calor) implies a complex combination of forces (ideological, political, and economic) that keep woman in her place. Subordination is a term favored by radical feminists and some women of calor who identify the holder of power as the culprit (men and whites respectively). The links between women's liberation and changing patterns of female crirninality were matje before. Bishop (1931) complained that women's liberation during the 1920s had three negative results: (1) more women
9.
10.
11.
691
criminal more often; and (3) women were becoming sexually criminal at a younger age (cited in Rasche, 1974). To be fair, both Simon and Adler had more to offer than mere speculation about the "dark side" of women's liberation. Simon's research documents the basic inequities between male and female correctional facilities and treahnents. By attributing these differences to male chivalry toward women, she takes a liberal feminist approach to the problem of gender and justice, an approach that heavily influenced later works in this area. Adler's work, while more impressiOnistic than Simon's, attempted to explain differences in crime rates betvveen white and black females. Although her interpretations gave rise to more systematic examinations of intra-gender race differences in crime that are highly Critical of her interpretations and methods, the issues she raised are of primary importance to most feminist criminologists today. A research focus on gender alone does not qualify one as a feminist just as a focus on class does not make one a marxist. Rather, as part of their endeavor, feminist Criminologists must seriously consider the nature of gender relations and the peculiar brand of oppression that patriarchal relations bring (Leonard, 1982). Precipitous behavior has ranged from dreSSing provocatively, saying no to sex while "meaning" yes, "nagging" a spouse, Lolita-like seductiveness on the part of the victim, and so on. These effects appear to be strongest for black defendants (Daly, 1989a). Cloward and Piven (1979) and Box (1983) assert that female deviance is handled by the medical community, in part, because women are more likely to direct their deviance inward (Le., they privatize it into self-destructive behaviors, like depreSSion and suicide). Such behavior is conceptualized as sickness (like "hysteria" earlier) and is thus subject to the formal control of the psychiatric community. The relevant topics are the female offender and the attitudes of criminal justice personnel toward her; criminal justice processing; gender and corrections; and the structure and purpose of law. To suggest that feminists need to identify areas "appropriate" for feminist critique implies that knowledge, as currently constructed, is selectively androcentric. I would argue that criminology as a whole, like other academic disciplines, needs a feminist "overhflul." Stacey and Thome (1985:308) argue that more radical feminist thinking has been marginalized-ghettoized Within Marxist sociology, which ensures that feminist thinking has less of a chance to influence mainstream sociological paradigms and research.
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692
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Adler, Patricia 1985 Wheeling and Dealing: An Ethnography of an Upper-Level Drug Dealing and Smuggling Community. New York: Columbia University Press.
Ageton, Suzanne S. 1983 The dynamics of female delinquency, 1976-1980. Criminology 21:555-584. Amir, Menachem 1967 Victim precipitated forcible rape. Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science 58:493-502. Atkinson, Ti-Grace 1974 Radical Feminism and Love. In Amazon Odyssey. New York: Links Books.
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Ben, Sandra 1974 The measurement of psychological androgyny. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology 42:155-162. Bernstein, ilene Nagel, Edward Kick, Jan LelUlg, and Barbara Schulz 1977 Charge reduction: An intermediary stage in the process of labelling criminal defendants. Social Forces 56:362-384. Bishop, Cecil 1931 Women and Crime. London: Chato and Wmdus Press. Black, Donald 1980 On the Manners and Customs of the Police. New York Academic Press. Block,Alan 1977 Awl Your mother's in the mafia: Women criminals in progressive New York. Contemporary Crises 1:5-22. Box,Steven 1983 Power, Crime and Mystification. London: Tavistock. Box, Steven and Chris Hale 1984 Liberation/ emancipation, economic marginalization, or less chivalry: The relevance of three theoretical arguments to female crime patterns 1. __ ..1
_ •• ..1 ' . ' _ ' __
~n,,"~
~nOn
"""-=_: __ 1 _ _ .""",1'7':1
Brittan, Arthur and Mary Maynard 1984 Sexism, Racism and Oppression. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. BrO\vne, Angela 1987 When Battered Women Kill. New York: Free Press. Brownmiller, Susan 1975 Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape. New York: Simon & Schuster. Burkhart, KaUrryn Watterson 1973 Women in Prison. Garden City, N.Y: Doubleday. Bureau of Justice Statistics 1987 Special Report: White-Collar Crime. Washington, ment of Justice.
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Campbell, Anne 1984 The Girls in the Gang: A Report from New York City. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Carlen, Pat 1983 Women's Imprisonment: A Shldy of Social Control. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Chapman, Jane Roberts and Margaret Gates (eds.) 1978 The Victimization of Women. Beverly Hills, Calli.: Sage.
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Chesney-Lind, Meda 1973 Judicial enforcement of the female sex role. Issues in Criminology 8:51-69. 1980 Rediscovering Lilith: Misogyny and the "new" female criminal. In Curt Taylor Griffiths and Margot Nance (eds.), The Female Offender. Criminology Research Centre. Burnaby, B.C.: Simon Fraser University. 1986 Women and crime: The female offender, Signs 12:78-96. Chilton, Roland and Susan K Datesman 1987 Gender, race, and crime: An analysis of urban arrest trends, 1960-1980. Gender and Society 1:152-171. Cloward, Richard A. and Frances Fox Piven 1979 Hidden protests: The channeling of female innovation and resistance. Signs 4:651-669. Daly, Kathleen 1987a Discrimination in the criminal courts: Family, gender and the problem of equal treatment. Social Forces 66:152-175. 1987b Structure and practice of familial-based justice in a criminal court. Law and Society Review 21:267-290. 1988 Gender and varieties of white-collar crime. Revised version of a paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, Atlanta .
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1989a Neither conflict nor labeling nor paternalism will suffice: Intersections of race, ethnicity, gender, and family in criminal court decisions. Crime and Delinquency 35:136-168. 1989b Rethinking judicial paternalism: Gender, work-family relations, and sentencing. Gender and Society 3:9-36. Daly, Kathleen and Meda Cheseny-Lind. 1988 Feminism and criminology. Justice Quarterly 5:497-538. Datesrnan, Susan K and Frank R. Scarpitti (eds.) 1980 Women, Crime, and Justice. New York Oxford University Press. Davis, Angela 1981 Women, Race, and Class. New York: Random House.
Dobash, R. Emerson and RU5sell Dobash 1979 Violence Against Wives: A Case Against the Patriarchy. New York: Free Press. Dworkin, Andrea 1981 Pornography: Men Possessing Women. New York: Perigee Books.
Firestone,Shulamith . 1970 The Dialectic of Sex: The Case for Feminist Revolution. New York: Bantam. Freedman, Estelle . . 1981 Their Sisters' Keepers: Women's prison Reform ill Amenca, 1830-1930. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. French, Laurence . 1977 An assessment of the black female prisoner in the South. SignS 3"483-488. 1978 The incarcerated black female. The case of social double jeopardy. Journal of Black Studies 8:321-335. . ' Freyerhem, William 1981 Gender differences in delinquency quantily and quality. In Lee ~L Bowker (ed.), Women and Crime in America. New York: Macnullan. Gilligan, Carol . ,_ 1982 In a Different Voice: PsychologICal Theory and Women s Develop menL Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
Eaton,Mary 1986 Justice for Women? Family, Court, and Social ControL Philadelphia: Open University Press. 1987 The question of bail: Magistrates' responses to applications for bail on behalf of men and women defendants. In Pat Carlen and Anne Worrall (eds.), Gender, Crime and Justice. Philadelphia: Open University Press.
Giordano, Peggy, Sandra Kerbel, and Sandra Dudley. . 1981 The economics of female criminality: An analysiS of police blot~ers 1890-1975. In Lee H. Bowker (ed.), Women and Crime in Amenca. New York: Macmillian
Edwards, Susan M. 1985 Women on Trial: A Study of the Female Suspect, Defendant, and Offender in the Criminal Law and Criminal Justice System. Manchester, N.H.: Manchester University Press.
Gora, Joann Gennaro . ' ? 1982 The New Female Criminal: Empirical RealIty or Sooal Myth. New York: Praeger.
Eisenstein, Zillah 1979 Capitalist Patriarchy and the Case for Socialist Feminism. New York: Monthly Review Press. 1981 The Radical Future of Liberal Feminism. New York: Monthly Review Press. Elliott, Delbert and Suzanne S. Ageton 1980 Reconciling race and class differences in self-reported and official estimates of delinquency. American Sociological Review 45:95-110. Farrington, David and Allison Morris 1983 Sex, sentencing and reconviction. British Journal of Criminology 23:229-248. Finkelhor, David 1979 Sexually Victimized Children. New York: Free Press. Finley, Nancy J. and Harold G. Grasmick 1985 Gender roles and social control. Sociological Spectrum 5:317-3.10.
Glueck, Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck 1934 Five Hundred Delinquent Women. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
Gordon, Unda . il V' 1988 Heroes of Their Own Lives: The Politics and History of Fam y 10lence. New York: Penguin. Greer, Germaine 1970 The Female Eunuch. New York: McGraw-HilL . Griffin, Susan 1979 Rape: The Power of Consciousness. San FranCISCO: Harper & Row. Haft, Marilyn G. . . 1980 Women in prison: Discriminary practices and some legal sol~tions. In Susan Datesman and Frank R. Scarpitti (eds.), Women, Cnme, and Justice. New York: Oxford University Press. Hagan, John, AR Gillis, and John Simpson . 1985 The class structure of gender and delinquency: Toward a power control theory of common delinquent behavior. American Journal of Sociology 90:1151-1178.
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Hagan, John, John Simpson, and A.R. Gillis 1979 The s,exual stratification of social control: A gender-based perspective on crune and delinquency British Journal of Sociology 30:25-38. 1987 Class in the household: A power-control theory of gender and delinquency. American Journal of Sociology 92:788--816. Hammer, }alna 1981 Violence and the Social Control of Women. Feminist Issues 1:26-46. Harris, Anthony R 1977 Sex and theories of deviance: Toward a functional theory of deviant typescripts. American Sociological Review 42:3-16. Hartman, Heida 1979
The unhappy marriage of Marxism and feminism: Toward a more progressive union. Capital and Class (Summer):1-13. Hartz-Karp, Janette 1981
Women in constraints. In S.I<. Mukherjee and Jocelynne A. Scutt (eds.), Women and Crime. Sydney: Australian Institute of Criminology with Allen and Unwin.
Heide, Wilma Scott 1974 Feminism and the "fallen woman". Criminal Justice and Behavior 1,369-373. Heidensohn, Frances 1968 1985
The deviance of women: A critique and an enquiry. British Journal of Sociology 19,160-175. Women and Crime. London: Macmillan.
Hill, Gary D. and Elizabeth M. Suval 1988 Women, race, and crime. A revised version of a paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, Chicago. Hindelang, Michael
Varia~ons in sex-race-age-specific incidence rates of offending. Amencan Sociological Review 46:461-474. Hooks, Bell 1981
1987 Feminism: --:. movement to. end sexist oppression. In Anne Phillips (ed.), Fenurusm and Equality. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Jayarate, Toby Epstein The value of quantitative methodology for feminist research. In Gloria Bowles and Renate Duelli Klein (eds.), Theories of Women's Studies. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Joseph, Gloria L 1983
1981a The incompatible menage a trois: Marxism, feminism, and racism. In Lydia Sargent (ed.), Women and Revolution. Boston: South End Press.
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1981b White promotion, black survival. In Gloria I. Joseph and Jill Lewis (eds.), Common Differences: Conflicts in Black and White Feminist Perspectives. Boston: South End Press. Joseph, Gloria I. and Jill Lewis (eds.) " . 1981 Common Differences: Conflicts in Black and Whlte Ferrurust Perspectives. Boston: South End Press. Keller, Evelyn Fox 1982 Feminism and science. In Nannerl O. Keohane, Ivlichele Z. Rosaldo, and Barbara C. Gelpi (eds.), Feminist Theory, Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Klein, Dode 1973 The etiology of female crime: A review of the literature. Issues in Criminology 8,3-39. 1981 Violence against women: Some considerations regarding its causes and its elimination. Crime and Delinquency 27:64-80. Kohlberg, Lawrence 1981 The Philosophy of Moral Development. San Francisco: Harper & Row. Kruttschnitt, Candace 1982 Respectable women and the law. The Sociological Quarterly 23'221-234. 1984 Sex and criminal court dispositions: The unresolved controversy. Journal of Research in Crime and Delinquency 21:213-232. Kuhn, Thomas 1970 The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Laub, John and M. Joan McDermott 1985 An analysis of serious crime by young black women. Criminology n81-98. Lewis, Diane 1981 Black women offenders and criminal justice: Some theoretical considerations. In Marguerite Warren (ed.), Comparing Female and Male Offenders. Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage. MacKinnon, Catherine A. 1979 The' Sexual Harrassment of Working Women. New Haven: Yale University Press. 1982 Feminism, Marxism, method, and the state: An agenda for theory. In Nanner! 0. Keohane, Michele Z. Rosaldo, and Barbara C. Gelpi (eds.), Feminist Theory, Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mann, Coramae Richey 1984 Female Crime and Delinquency. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press. 1987 Black female homicide in the United States. Paper presented at the rn..,f",r<>nr'<> nn Rbrk Hnmicide and Public Health, Baltimore.
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Martin, Del 1976 Battered Wives. New York: Pocket Books/Simon & Schuster. Miles, Maria 1983 Toward a methodology for feminists research. In Gloria Bowles and Renate Duelli Klein (eds.), Theories of Women's Studies. Boston: Routledge & Kegan PauL lvliller, Eleanor M. 1985 Street Woman. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
MilIett, Kate
1971 Sexual Politics. London: Rupert Hart-Davis. Mitchell,lullet 1971 Woman's Estate. New York: Random House. Moyer, Imogene L. 1985 The Changing Roles of Women in the Criminal Justice System: Offenders, Victims, and Professionals. Prospect Heights, IlL: Waveland Press. Moyer, Irnogene 1. and Garland F. White 1981 Police processing of female offenders. In Lee H. Bawker (ed.), Women and Crime in America. New York: Maanillian. Mukherjee, S.K. and R. W. FiLzgerald 1981 The myth of rising female crime. In S.K Mukherjee and Joselynne A. Scutt (eds.), Women and Crime. Sydney: Australian Institute of Criminology with Alien and Unwin. Muldlerjee, S.K and Joselynne A. Scutt (eds.) 1981 Women and Crime. Sydney: Australian Institute of Criminology with Alien and Unwin. Naffine, Ngaire 1988 Female Crime: The Construction of Women in Criminology. Boston: Alien and Unwin. Nagel, Ilene H. 1981 Sex differences in the processing of criminal defendants. In A. Morris and L. Gelsthorpe (eds.), Women and Crime, Cambridge: Cambridge Institute of Criminology. 1983 The legal/extra-legal controversy: Judicial decisions in pretrial release. Law and Society Review 17:481-515. Nagel, Stuart and Lenore J. Weitzman 1972 Double standard of American justice. Society 9:18-25, 62-63. Oakley,Ann 1981 Subject Women. New York: Pantheon. Pagelow, Mildred 1981 Sex roles, power, and women battering. In Lee H. Bowker (eds.), Women and lrimp in AmPTirrt NplM Ynr1c·1\11":>rrnilb ....
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Pateman, Carol 1987 Feminist critiques of the public/private dichotomy. In Anne Phillips (ed.), Feminism and Equality. Oxford: Basil BlackwelL Phillips, Anne (ed.) 1987 Feminism and Equality. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Plenska, Danuta 1980 Women's criminality in Poland. In Curt Taylor Griffiths and Margot Nance (eds.), The Female Offender. Criminology Research Centre. Bumaby, Re.: Simon Fraser University. Rafter, Nicole Hahn 1985 Partial Justice: Women in State Prisons, 1800-1935. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Rafter, Nicole Halm and Elena Natalizaia 1981 Marxist feminist: Implications for criminal justice. Crime and Delinquency 27:18-98. Rasche, Christine 1974 The female offender as an object of criminological research. Criminal Justice and Behavior 1:301-320. Reinhartz,Shulamit 1983 Experimental analysiS: A contribution to feminist research. In Gloria Bowles and Renate Duelli Klein (eds.), Theories of Women's Studies. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Reiss, Albert J., Jr. and Albert P. Biderman 1980 Data Sources on White-Collar Law-Breaking. National Institute of Justice. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Department of Justice. Rich, Adrienne 1980 Compulsory heterosexual and lesbian existence. Signs 5:631-660. Richards, Pamela and Charles R. little 1981 Gender and perceived chances of arrest. Social Forces 59:1182-1199. Riger, Stephanie and Margaret T. Gordon 1981 The fear of rape: A study in social control. Journal of Social Issues 37:71-92. Sanday, Peggy Reeves 1981 The socio-cultural context of rape: A cross-cultural study. The Journal of Social Issues 37:5-27. Schlossman, Steven and Stephanie Wallach 1978 The crime of precocious sexuality: Female juvenile delinquency in the progressive era. Harvard Educational Review 48:65-94. Simpson, Sally S. 1987 Women in elite deviance: A grounded theory. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, MontreaL
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1988 Caste, class, and crime: Violence and the disenfrachised black female. Revised version of a paper presenled at the annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, Chicago. Simon, Rita 1975 Women and Crime. Lexington, Mass.: D,e. Heath. Smart, Carol 1976 Women, Crime and Criminology: A Feminist Critique. London: Routledge & Kegan PauL
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Tracy, Paul E., Marvin E. Wolfgang, and Robert M. Figlio In Delinquent Careers in Two Birth Cohorts. New York: Plenum Press Publishing. Tronto, Joan C. n.d. "Women's morality": Beyond gender difference to a theory of care. Unpublished paper, Hunter College of the City University of New York.
Smith, Douglas, Christy Visher, and Laura Davidson 1984 Equity and discretionary justice: The influence of race on police arfest decisions. Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology 75:234-249.
Truth, Sojourner 1851 Cited in Gloria 1. Joseph and Jill Lewis (eds.), Common Differences: Conflicts in Black and White Feminist Perspectives. Boston: South End Press.
Spelman, Elizabeth V. 1988 Inessential Woman: Problems of Exclusion in Feminist Thought. Boston: Beacon.
Visher, Christy 1983 Gender, police arrest decisions, and notions of chivalry. Criminology 21:5-28.
SOphn, Cassia, John Gruhl, and Susan Welch 1982 The effect of race on sentencing: A re-examination of an unsettled question. Law and SOCiety Review 16:71-88.
Wellman, David 1977 Portraits of White Racism. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Stacey, Judith and Earrie Thome 1985 The missing feminist revolution in sociology. Social Problems 32:301-316. Sranko, Elizabeth A. 1985 Intimate Intrusions: Women's Experience of Male Violence. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Steffensmeier, Darrell J. 1978 Crime and the contemporary woman: An analysis of changing levels of female property crime, 1960-75. Social Forces 57:566-584. 1981 Patterns of female property crime, 1960-1975: A postscript. In Lee H. Bowker (ed.), Women and Crime in America. New York: Macmillan. 1983 Organization properties and sex-segregation in the undernrorld: Building a SOCiological theory of sex differences in crime. Social Forces 61:1010-1043. Steffensmeier, Darrell J. and Michael]. Cobb 1981 Sex differences in urban arrest patterns, 1934-79. Social Problems 29:37-50. Stratus, Murray A, Richard J. Gelles, and Suzanne K. Steinrnetz 1980 Behind Closed Doors: Violence in the American Family. Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor/Doubleday. Tomes, Nancy 1978 A "torrent of abuse": Crimes of violence betvveen working-class men and women in London, 1840--1875. Journal of Social History 11:328-345. .
Wilson, James Q. and Richard J. Herrnstein 1985 Crime and Human Nature. New York: Simon & Schuster. Wilson, Nanci Koser 1985 Witches, hookers, and others: Societal response to women criminals and victims. Paper presented at tlle annual meeting of the American Society of Criminology, San Diego. Wood, Pamela 1981 The victim in a forcible rape case: A feminist view. In Lee H. Bowker (ed.), Women and Crime in America. New York: Macmillan. Young, Vemetta D. 1980 Women, race, and crime. Criminology 18:26-34. Zietz, Dorothy 1981 Women Who Embezzle or Defraud: A Study of Convicted Felons. New York: Praeger.
702
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44 Crime, Shame and Reintegration JOHN BRAITHWAITE A PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF THE THEORY The first step to productive theorizing about crime is to think about the contention that labeling offenders makes things worse. The contention is both right and wrong. The theory of reintegrative shaming is an attempt to specify when it is right and when wrong. The distinction is between shaming that leads to stigmatization-to outcasting, to confirmation of a deviant master status-versus shaming that is reintegrative, that shames while maintaining bonds of respect or love, that sharply terminates disapproval with forgiveness, instead of amplifying deviance by progressively casting the deviant out. Reintegrative shaming controls crime; stigmatization pushes offenders toward criminal subcultures. The second step to more productive theorizing about crime is to realize what scholars like Sutherland, Cressey and Glaser grasped long ago-that criminality is a function of the ratio of associations favorable to crime to those unfavorable to crime. If this is a banal point, it is one that criminological theorist systematically forget. As Daniel Glaser commented on an earlier draft of this book: What we need to develop and operationalize in various social contexts is a theory of tipping points, of the persons and circumstances in which particular types of Jabeling and punishment shift the predominant stake of the subjects from conformity to nonconformity with the legal norms, and vice versa. Much of the difference betvveen delinquency theorists reflects the fact that the samples they studied were on different sides of this tipping point. Hirschi focused on the 75 percent of a cross-section of secondary school students who completed his questionnaires, and were predominantly not very delinquent, while Shaw and McKay as well as Murray and Cox studied repeatedly arrested youths in delinquent and criminal gangs from high crime-rate slums. Like the blind Hindus in the legend, each generalized from the different parts of the elephant that they encountered.
111e theory of reintegrative shaming contends that we can sensibly talk about criminal subcultures. We require a theory which comes to grips with the multiple moralities which exist in contemporary societies. A severe limitation of theories that deny this, like Hirschi's control Reprinted from John Braithwaite, Crime, 51U1l!1e and Reintegration, pp. 12-15,98-107. © 1989 Cambridge University Press. Reprinted with the permission of Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
44. John Braithwaite
703
theory, is that they give no account of why some uncontrolled individuals become heroin users, some become hit men, and others price fixing conspirators. At the same time, we must recognize that the criminal law is a powerfully dominant majoritarian morality compared with the minority subculture of the heroin user or the industry association's price fixing circle. There is a powerful consensus in modern industrial societies over the rightness of criminal laws which protect our persons and property, if not over victimless crimes. Even most criminal subcultures do not transmit an outright rejection of the criminal law, rather they transmit means of rationalizing temporary suspension of one's commitment to the law, symbolic resources for insulating the offender from shame. The theory is one of predatory crime-whether perpetrated by juvenile delinquents, street offenders or business executives-of violations of criminal laws which prohibit one person from preying on others. Societies that shame effectively will be more successful in controlling predatory crime because there will be more shaming directed at noncompliance with the law than shaming (within subcultures) for complying with the law. It is important to understand that for domains where the criminal law does not represent a clearly majoritarian morality, the theory of reintegrative shaming will fail to explain variation in behavior. It provides a thoroughly inadequate account of nonpredatory criminal behavior like homosexuality because, even in a society with great capacities to shame effectively, if half the population does not believe the behavior should be criminalized, there may be as much shaming directed at gays who refuse to come out of the closet, and at those who oppress homosexuals, as there is shaming directed at the offending itself. The theory of reintegrative shaming is not a satisfactory general theory of deviance because its explanatory power declines as dissensus increases over whether the conduct should be viewed as deviant. It is best reserved for that domain where there is strong consensus, that of predatory crimes (crimes involving victimization of one party by another). While it is true with respect to this domain that criminal subcultures are always minority phenomena, some types of societies will have more virulent criminal subcultures than others. For example, societies which segregate oppressed racial minorities into stigmatized neighborhoods create the conditions for criminal subculture formation. The theory of reintegrative shaming posits that the consequence of stigmatization is attraction to criminal subcultures. Subcultures supply the outcast offender with the opporhmity to reject her rejectors, thereby maintaining a form of self-respect. In contrast, the consequence o~ reintegrative shaming is that criminal subcultures appear less attractive to
706
44. John Brailhwaite
New Directions in Deviance Theory
there must be a statement that explains the statistical distribution of the behavior in time and space (epidemiology), and from which predictive statements about unknown statistical distributions can be derived. Second, there must be a statement that identifies, at least by implication, the process by which individuals come to exhibit the behavior in question, and from which can be derived predictive statements about tile behavior of individuals. (Cressey, 1960:47).
KEY CONCEPTS
1I1terdepelldenClj is a condition of individuals. It means the extent to which individuals participate in networks wherein they are dependent on others to achieve valued ends and others are dependent on them. We could describe an individual as in a state of interdependency even if the individuals who are dependent on him are different from the individuals on whom he is dependent. Interdependency is approximately equivalent to the social bonding, attachment and commitment of control theory. COllllllUltitarianislll is a condition of societies. In communitarian societies individuals are densely enmeshed in interdependencies which have the special qualities of mutual help and trust. The interdependencies have symbolic significance in the culture of group loyalties which take precedence over individual interests. The interdependencies also have symbolic significance as attaclunents which invoke personal obligation to others in a community of concern, rather than simply interdependencies of convenience as between a bank and a small depositor. A communitarian culture rejects any pejorative connotation of dependency as threatening individual autonomy. Communitarian cultures resist interpretations of dependency as weakness and emphasize the need for mutuality of obligation in interdependency (to be both dependent and dependable). The Japanese are said to be socialized not only to amaeru (to be succored by others) but also to C/lllayakasu (to be nurturing to others) (Wagatsuma and Rosett, 1986). Shaming means all social processes of expressing disapproval which have the intention or effect of invoking remorse in the person being shamed and! or condemnation by others who become aware of the shaming. When associated with appropriate symbols, formal punishment often shames. But societies vary enormously in the extent to which formal punishment is associated with shaming or in the extent to which social meaning of punishment is no more than to inflict pain to tip reward-cost calculations in favor of certain outcomes. Shaming, wtlike purely deterrent punishment, sets out to moralize with the offender to communicate reasons for the evil of her actions. Most shaming is neither associated with formal puriishment nor perpetrated by the state, U10ugh t..~.j.1-.
~L.
__ ! __
L~~.<.L
_ _ .1._
.1. _
_
._..1 _1 __ ••• : ••• ___ : ,1 •.•...• , _1.
_.,
•
707
types of shaming. Most shaming is by individuals within interdependent communities of concern. Reintegrative shaming is shaming which is followed by efforts to reintegrate the offender back into the community of ~aw-abiding or respectable citizens through words or gestures of forgIveness or ceremonies to decertify the offender as deviant. Shaming and reintegration do not occur simultaneously but sequentially, with reintegration occurring before deviance becomes a master status. It is shaming which labels the act as evil while striving to preserve the identity of the offender as essentially good. It is directed at signifying evil deeds rather than evil persons in the Christian tradition of 'hate the sin and love the sinner.' Specific disapproval is expressed within relationships characterized by general social approval; shaming criminal behavior is complemented by ongoing social rewarding of alternative behavior patterns. Reintegrative shaming is not necessarily weak; it can be cruel, even vicio~s .. It is not distinguished from stigmatization by its potency, but by (a) a f!illte rather than openended duration which is tenninated by forgiveness: and by (b) efforts to maintain bonds of love or respect Uu:oughout the finite period of suffering shame. . Stigmatization is disintegrative shaming in which no effort 15 made to reconcile the offender with the community. The offender is outcast, her deviance is allowed to become a master status, degradation ceremonies are not followed by ceremonies to decertify deviance. Criminal subcultures are sets of rationalizations and conduct norms which cluster together to support criminal behavior. The clustering is usually facilitated by subcultural groups which provide systematic social support for crime in any of a number of ways-supplying members with criminal opportunities, criminal values, attitudes which weaken conventional values of law-abidingness, or techniques of neutralizing conventional values. SHORT SUMMARY OF THE THEORY
The following might serve as the briefest possible summary of the theory. A variety of life circumstances increase the chances that individuals will be in situations of greater interdependency, the most important being age (under 15 and over 25), being married, female, employed, and having high employment and educational aspirations. Interdependent persons are more susceptible to shaming. More importantly, societies in which individuals are subject to extensive interdependencies are more likely to be communitarian, and shaming is much more widespread and potent in comm~tarian societies ..Ur?aniz~tion and high res.ide~ti~l mo-
44. John Braithwaite
708
709
New Directions in Deviance Theory
The shaming produced by interdependency and communitarianism can be either of two types-shaming that becomes stigmatization or shaming that is followed by reintegration. The shaming engendered is more likely to become reintegrative in societies that are commurutarian. In societies where shaming does become reintegrative, low crime rates are the result because disapproval is dispensed without eliciting a rejection of the disapprovers, so that the potentialities for future disapproval are not dismantled. Moreover, reintegrative shaming is superior even to stigmatization for conscience-building. Shaming that is stigmatizing, in contrast, makes criminal subcultures more attractive because these are in some sense subcultures which reject the rejectors. Thus, when shaming is allowed to become stigmatization for want of reintegrative gestures or ceremonies which decertify deviance, the deviant is both attracted to criminal subcultures and cut off from other interdependencies (with family, neighbors, church, etc.). Participation in subcultural groups supplies criminal role models, training in techniques of crime and techniques of neutralizing crime (or other forms of social support) that make choices to engage in crime more attractive. Thus, to the extent that shaming is of the stigmatizing rather than the reintegrative sort, and that criminal subcultures are widespread and accessible in the society, higher crime rates will be the result. While societies characterized by high levels of stigmatization will have higher crime rates than societies characterized by reintegrative shaming, the former will have higher or lower crime rates than societies with little shaming at all depending largely on the availability of criminal subcultures. Yet a high level of stigmatization in the society is one of the very factors that encourages criminal subculture formation by creating populations of outcasts with no stake in conformity, no chance of self-esteem within the terms of conventional society-individuals in search of an alternative culture that allows them self-esteem. A comrnunitarian culture, on the other hand, nurtures deviants within a network of attachments to conventional society, thus inhibiting the widespread outcasting that is the stuff of subculture formation. For clarity of exposition the two types of shaming have been presented as a stark dichotomy. In reality, for any society some deviants are dealt with in ways that are more stigmatic while others receive more reintegrative shaming. Indeed, a single deviant will be responded to more stigrnatically by some, more reintegratively by others. To the extent that the greater weight of shaming tends to stigmatization, the crimeproducing processes on the right of Figure 44.1 are more likely to be triggered; to the extent that the balance of shaming tips toward reintegration, informal processes of crime control are more likely to prevail
The other major societal variable which fosters criminal subculture formation is systematic blockage of legitimate opportunities for critical fractions of the population. If black slum dwellers are systematically denied economic opportunities because of the stigma of their race and neighborhood, then criminal subcultures will form in those outcast neighborhoods. It can be seen that stigmatization (as opposed to social integration) as a cultural disposition may contribute to the systematic blockage of these economic opportunities; but cultural variables like stigmatization will be of rather minor importance compared with structural economic variables in determining opportunities. I have argued that the blockages in this part of the theory are not restricted to closed opportunities to climb out of poverty; systematically blocked opportunities for ever greater wealth accumulation by the most affluent of corporations often lead to corporate criminal subculture formation. Criminal subcultures are the main mechanism for constituting illegitimate opportunities structures-knowledge on how to offend, social support for offending or communication of rationa~ation~ for ~ffend ing, criminal role models, subcultural groups whIch aSSIst WIth the avoidance of detection and which organize collective criminal enterprises. However, illegitimate opporhmities are greater in some societies tl1an others for a variety of further reasons which are not incorporated within the theory. While the effects of legitimate and illegitimate opportunities on crime are mostly mediated by participation in criminal subcultures, the blocka.ge of legitimate opportunities combined with the availability of illegitimate opportunities can independently increase crime. Whether illegitimate opportunities to engage in crime are supplied by participation in criminal subcultures or otherwise, they must be opportunities that appeal to the tastes of tempted individuals for them to result in crime. This summary is crudely simple because it ignores what goes on within the shaming box in Figure 44.1. That is, it ignores the treatment. .. of the social processes that combine individual acts of shaming into cultural processes of shaming which are more or less integrative: gossip, media coverage of shaming incidents, children's stories, etc. In turn, the summary has neglected how these macro processes of shaming feed back to ensure that micro practices of shaming cover the curriculum of crimes. ECOLOGICAL FALLACIES?
In a theory which simultaneously provides an account of individual behavior and societal behavior, one can slip variables across from one level of analvsis to the other. Thus. when testinl! thp thporv;:;t thp inclivirllli'll
710
New Directions in Deviance Theory
level of analysis, one can code individuals according to whether they live in large cities or whether they have been residentially mobile. That is, the two societal variables at the top right of Figure 44.1 can be translated into individual-level variables. Equally, an individual-level variable like 'age 15-25' can become a societal variable-percentage of the population of the society aged 15-25. However, in making these shifts it is possible to perpetrate the ecological fallacy-to assume glibly that what is true at the individual level of analysis will be true at the societallevel. A society is more than the sum of its individual parts. Thus, when a society accumulates unusually high numbers of young people, the behavior of older people may change in response-they might vote for increased investment in education or police juvenile aid bureaux, for example. There is some evidence, for example, that while unemployment is a strong predictor of individual criminality, societies with high unemployment rates do not necessarily have high crime rates (Braithwaite, 1979; but see Chiricos, 1987). Gender is another variable which does not usefully shift from the individual to the societallevel of analysis because societies do not vary in the proportion of their population which is female. Apart from these two, I can see no sound theoretical or empirical reason why the variables in Figure 44.1 cannot move between both the individual and societallevels of analysis. CAPACITY OF THE THEORY TO EXPLAIN WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT CRIME
[Previously I] set out consistently supported strong correlates of crime. What is the capacity of the theory to explain these relationships? Some indeterminacy arises over the different effects of reintegrative shaming versus stigmatization. For example, what does the theory predict should be the association between gender and crime? Figure 44.1 shows that being female increases interdependency, which in turn fosters shaming. If the extra shaming produced is reintegrative, being female is associated with low crime rates. However, if the extra shaming amounts to stigmatization, higher crime rates become possible where subcultural support is found for the outcast status. To solve this problem we make a rather modest assumption. This assumption, as argued earlier, is that in most societies criminal subcultures are minority phenomena-narrowly diffused-so that stigmatization will in only a minority of cases be followed by an opportunity to participate in a subculture which is attractive to the individual. It follows tilat the level of shaming should be unambiguously negatively related to the crime rate because most shamine: will be either reintelITative sham-
44. John Braithwaite
711
ing, or stigmatic shaming which does not lead to subcultural attachments, and both of these options will reduce crime. In any case, as is clear from Figure 44.1, variables (like gender) which increase interdependency have their effect on shaming partly through increasing communitarianism, and shaming which is a product of communitarianism, is most likely to be reintegrative. Interdependency both increases the prospects of shaming and decreases the chances that such shaming as occurs will be stigmatic. Thus the characteristics associated with low interdependencybeing male, 15-25 years of age, unmarried, unemployed, and with low educational and vocational aspirations-should all be associated with high involvement in crime. Urbanization and high residential mobility are also predicted by the theory as correlates of crime. It was concluded [previously] that all of these characteristics are strong and consistent correlates of crime. In establishing the relationship between communitarianism and crime, we rely far too heavily on qualitative evidence from Japan and more doubtful qualitative evidence from a handful of other societies. The association between interdependency as a characteristic of individuals and crime, on the other hand, is well established. Control theory has spawned impressive evidence that young people who are 'attached' to their parents and to tlle school are less likely to engage in delinquency. There is not such an impressive and unambiguous literature on 'attachment' to neighbors and crime. The recent review of sixty-five studies of religiosity and deviance by TitHe and Welch (1983) suggests the possibility, contrary to some conventional wisdom in criminology, that interdependency via church affiliation may reduce crime. Tittle and Welch (1983: 654) concluded that 'the evidence seems remarkably consistent in suggesting that religion is related to deviant behavior. Indeed, only a few variable in social science (possibly gender and age) have proven to be better predictors of rule breaking' (see also Ellis, 1985). Thus, through examining the corollaries of the theory we can explain most of all the well-established strong correlates of crime .... What of the propositions we have not explained? An account is given of [the relationships between educational/ occupational aspirations, school performance and crime] if we are willing to assume that young people with low educational and occupational aspirations and who do poorly at school are less attached to (interdependent with) their school. The theory of reintegrative shaming provides an explanation for why unemployed people should engage in less crime in terms of their loss of interdependency. Beyond unemployment, lwinO"::It rhp hnHnm of thp dass structure means blocked lee:itimate 00-
712
New Directions in Deviance TIleory
portunities and an increased likelihood of access to certain kinds of subcultures which supply illegitimate opportunities. The theory offers a convincing explanation of why crime rates have been increasing in most Western societies since World War IT. The recent development of Western societies has been associated with a decline of interdependency and communitarianism and a progressive uncoupling of punishment and shaming. This has been a period when urbanization, residential mobility, delayed marriage and marriage breakdown, and an explosion of the 15-25 age group have occurred in most countries. Finally, the proposition ... that young people who associate with criminals are more likely to engage in crime themselves, approximates one of the propositions of the theory-that participating in a criminal subculture leads to crime. Sharing a criminal subculture was argued to be a route to crime partly because the subculture transmits qualifications or neutralizations to belief in the importance of complying with the law. In summary, the theory accounts for twelve of the thirteen best established findings of criminology as corollaries of the theory and one as a postulate of the theory.
44. John Braithwaite
713
primary deviance. Through shunting stigmatization away from other forms of shaming (as that sort of shaming which triggers subcultural participation) we proffer a more promising approach to the explanation of secondary deviance in labeling and subcultural theory terms. We achieve a more specified theory of differential association with conventional others versus others who share i1 subculture. Conceived another way, it is a theory of differential shaming. Most shaming is by conventional others on the anticriminal side of a tipping point. When stigmatization produces secondary deviance, it is because the balance of shame has tipped; for those who share the subculture there is sufficient approval for crime, sufficient shaming for going straight, to outweigh the shaming of conventional society.
REFERENCES Braithwaite, J. (1979) Illequality, Crime alld Public Policy, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Chlricos, T. G. (1987) 'Rates of Crime and Unemployment An Analysis of Aggregate Research Evidence', Social Problems, 34, 187-212.
SHUNTING THE COLLIDING LOCOMOTIVES OF CRIMINOLOGICAL THEORY This sharp contrast with the inability of the existing dominant theories to explain much of what we know about crime is achieved, ironically, through the addition of just one element-the partitioning of shamingas a shunt to connect these diverging theoretical tracks. Through putting the old theoretical ingredients together in a new way, we can do better at accounting for the facts than can any of these traditions separately. Moreover, we can do better compared with adding together their separate (contradictory!) elements as partial explanations within an atheoretical multi-factor model. The top left of Figure 44.1 incorporates the key variables of control theory; the far right-opportunity theory; the middle and bottom right - subcultural theory; the bottom, particularly the bottom left-learning theory; the right side of the middle box-labeling theory. With one crucial exception (reintegrative shaming), there is therefore no originality in the elements of this theory, simply origioality of synthesis. Through the effect.of interdependency in reducing crime, we can capture the explanatory successes of control theory in accounting for
Cressey, D.R. (1960) 'Epidemiology and Individual Conduct A Case from Criminology', Pacific Sociological REview, 3, 47-58. Ellis,1. (1985) 'Religiosity and Criminality: Evidence and Explanations of Complex Relationships', Sociological Perspectives, 28:501-20.
Tittle, CR., and Welch, M.R. (1983) 'Religiosity and Deviance: Toward a Contingency Theory of Constraining Effects', Social Forces, 61,653-82. Wagatsuma, H. and Rosett, A. (1986) "The Implications of Apology: Law and Culture in Japan and the United States", Law and Society Review, 20, 461-98.
Name Index
A Abbott, Andrew, 359-60 Abbott, D. j., 225 Adler, Freda, 520, 678, 688 Adler, M. j., 262, 306 Adler, Morlimer ]., 312, 528 Adler, Patricia, 121, 691 Ageton, Suzanne S., 107, llD, 277, 678, 686 Ageton, Swan, 657 Akers, Ronald 1., 111, 121, 261, 27o-71,336,46~470
Albonetti, Celesta, 659, 663 AlIen, Frands, 513, 526 Allende, Salvador, 544, 545-46 Ames, Louise 8., 412 Amir, Menachem, 602, 679 Anderson, Jack, 548 . Anderson, Nels, 73, 82, 173, 358 Anderson, Ronald, 53 Andrews, D. A, 283 Angleton, James, 544 Antonovsicy, A, 568 Appleby, LaWTence, 412
Apter, Nathanial S., 412 Aristotle, 238 Arlacchi, E, 226 Armstwng, j. S., 213-14 Arneklev, Bruce, 353 Arp, Bill, 152 A ~t,...; .. C' .... . , 'T';_~"""'D t:7!:;
Aubert, V, 213, 217 Aumick, Alison L., 605, 624 Austin, Ray 1., 678
Avirgan, Tany, 546
B Bachman, Jerald G., 107 Bacon, A. M., 21 Bacon, Sheldon D., 192 Bahr, Step hen J., 277 Bailey, Daniel E., 109 Bain, Read, 94 Baird, John S., 292 Baker, Lester, 439 Bakke, E. W., 157, 171 Baldwin, John, 108 Bales, Robert E, 192, 209 Batint, Michael, 402, 408, 412, 414 Ball, Frank C, 148 Bandura, Albert, 270, 271, 279, 349, 359, 363, 365 Banton, Michael, 470 Baran,PauJ, 505, 506 Barka, Ben, 545 Barry, Kathleen, 675 Base, C, 657 Bass, Bernard M., 413 Baumhart, R. c., 217 Baydar, Nazli, 355 Beach, W. G., 93, 100
716
Name Index
Name Index
Beck, Wendy L., 292
Block, Alan A, 530, 688
Beeker, Angela H., 292 Beeker, E., 578 Beeker, Howard S., 121, 200, 207, 209,
Blurnberg, Abrahrun S., 470 Blurner, Herbert, 200, 209 Blurnstein,AJ1red,335
315,326,328,354,377,390-97,415, 416,420--21,424,425,427, 431, 435, 442,474,477-78,479,480,485, 486-87, 491, 495, 522-23, 524, 528, 529
Bodenhafer, W. B., 93, 98, 99, 103 Boggs, Sarah, 623 Bogoras, W., 21 Bonger, W. A., 311, 519, 528, 602, 657,
Beeker, Jay, 56
658 Bordua, David j., 108,469,470,487
Bell, Daniel, 186, 193, 521, 528 Bell, Robert R., '179 Bern, Daryl, 356 Bern, Sandra, 675
Borgnefesse (pirate), 532-33, 534 Soma, 61 Boskind-Whlte, Marlene, 435, 445 Bossard, James H. S., 93, 94, 95, 96, 97,
Bend, Ernil, 491 Bendix, Reinhard, 320, 327, 657 Benedict, Paul E., 414 Benjaminis, james, 412 Bennett, Trevof, 639, 641, 643 Benson, Lee, 462 Bentham, Jeremy, 329-30 Bentler, P. M., 107 8equai, A., 228 Berg, Irwin A., 413
Serger,471 Bergrnan, Lars R., 350 Berk, R, 657 Bernesser, Kevin J" 292 Bemstein, Ilene Nagel, 682 Betzner, Gary, 541 Bevan, J. L., 148 Biderman, Albert P., 687 Bierce, Ambrose, 152-54, 169
Billings, j osh, 152 Bingham, H. c., 20 Birtchnell, 5. A, 438 Bishop, Cecil, 690 Bittner, Egon, 470
Black, Donald, 658, 681 Black, Edwin F., 537 Blake, JudiU1 1 326 Blake, Robert R, 413 Blandon, Jose, 542 Blau, Zena S., 412 Blauner, Robert, 508 Blishen, 8., 665
100-101,102,103,105 Bowers, W. J., 617 Bm.vles, Samuel, 212, 502 Box, Steven, 211, 214, 216, 221, 222,
224,678,691 BradIey, D., 213 Bradshaw, C. M., 655 Braithwaite, John, 211, 213, 215-16, 220,221,224,225,227, 228, 358, 379,
562,657,702-13 Branch, C. H., 440 Brandt, David, 368 Bredemeier, Harry, 32 Brenner, Harvey, 617 Briar, Scott, 314, 324, 325, 326, 328,
470 BriU, Henry, 413 Brissette, J., 216 Brittain, Arthur, 676
Brockopp,61 Brody, E. B., 414, 435 Brook, judith S., 107 Broom, Leonard,209 Brown, Claude, 346-47 Browne, Angela, 686 Brownmiller, Susan, 679 Bruch, Hilde, 439 Bryan, William Jennings, 459 Bryant, Clifton D., 3, 42-56, 60 Buck, Pearl, 21 Bucldey, WaIter, 32, 414 Bullington, Bruce, 540 D •• ___ ~~ u .......... ,.~ 1AT
":;1';
'71';
R,) In,,:;
Burgess, Robert L., 261, 470 Burke, Mary Jean, 265, 269-70 Burkhard, Kathyrn Watterson, 684
Bursik, Robert j., jr., 107-8, 348, 353 Buseo, Jose, 542 Bush, George, 539 Bush, Vannevar, 170
717
Choldin, Harvey M., 622 Chorover, Stephan, 565, 566, 575 Chrisman, Robert, 491 Cicourel, Aaron 415, 470, 528 Clairbome, Robert, 488, 489 Clark, Alexander L., 471 Clark, Eleanor, 173
v.,
Cabezas, Carlos, 542 Cairns, Robert R, 359 Carneron, Mary Owen, 423, 602
Clark, H. F., 146 Clark, John P., 470 Clark, Robert E., 292-95, 297-98, 300 Clarke, Alfred c., 476, 484, 487 Clarke, Ronald V., 559-60, 631-46
CampbeU, Anne, 637, 686, 690
Clausen, John A., 351, 364, 365, 412
Cancion, Francesca, 32 Canter, Rachelle J.,277
Clayton, Richard R, 107 Cleaver, Eldridge, 478, 519 Clelland, Donald, 665 Clinard, Marshal! B., 170, 210, 211, 215,216,217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 224,
C
Caplan, N., 579 Capone, AI, 155 Cargill, Oscar, 169 Carlen, Pat, 685, 690 Carlson, R 0., 168
Carlyle, Thomas, 173 Carmichael, Stokeley, 481 Camegie, Andrew, 149, 155 Carson, W. G., 214, 221, 223, 526 Carter, Jimmy, 544 Carter, Timothy, 665 Cartwright, Desmond 5., 109, 121 Cartwright, S. W., 569
Caspi, Avshalom, 349, 353, 355, 356, 368 Castro, Fidel, 539, 547
225,284,430,47~481,483,48~492
Clines, Thomas, 537, 539, 546 Cloward, Richard A., 129, 174-91, 198, 199,200,203,208,209,261,271, 277,284,326,335,503, 623-24, 655,
691 Cobb, Michael j., 678 Cochrane, D., 618, 619
Cocke, ErIe, jr., 537 Cocozza, J. J., 580
Coe, R M., 582 Cohen, Albert K., 30, 129-30, 183, 192, 193,195-209,252,260,261,271,272, 277,281,284,323,324,326,327,328,
Caudill, William, 414 Cavan, R. S., 82 Cavender, G., 222, 224 Chaiken, Jan M., 632 Chalfant, E, 580
366,483,484,655 Cohen, David K., 502 Cohen, Jacqueline, 335 Cohen, Lawrence, 413, 559, 602, 617,
Chambliss, William j., 209, 226, 423, 453,469,527,528,529-56,602,663
Cohen, Morris, 254
642
Chamorro, AdoUo, 540, 541
Cohen, S., 529
Chaplin, Charlie, 161-62
Coker, Sian, 438 Colbert, R j., 93, 96, 97,98,99,100,
01aprnan, Jane Roberts, 61, 679
Chassan, j. B., 413 Chemin, Kim, 440 Chesney-Lind, Meda, 561, 673, 678,
679,682,684,685,690 Chllton, Roland j., 108, 686
102,103,104,105,106 Colby, William, 538 Coldwell, R. A., 56 Coleman, j., 355, 357, 527 Collier, Peter, 660
718
Name Index
Name Index
Colurnbus, Christopher, 531, 532 Colvin,l1ark,282,663,665,668 Comfort, A, 569 Commons, M. L., 655 Conein, Lou, 547 Conklin, J., 221, 225 Conrad, Peter, 558-59, 563-96, 569, 573,577 Conwell, C, 528 Conwell, Russell H., 148 Cook, Karen, 365 Cook, Philip J., 642, 643 Cook, Robert M., 487, 488 Cooley, C. H., 87, 89, 93, 98, 102 Corbett, Julian 5., 533 Cornish, Derek B., 559-60, 631-46 Cos-Gayon,541 Costa, Frances M., 354, 358 Costello, Cynthia, 664 Cottrell, Leonard 5., Jr., 209 Covington, Jeanette, 108 Cressey, Donald R., UI, 170, 194, 216, 218,234,237-39,244-48,259,260, 261,264,266,268,269, 270, 276, 279, 281,283,318-19,420-21,655,704, 706 Crewdson, John M., 548 Crile, George, 547 Crisp, A. H., 435, 436, 437, 438, 439, 444 Culien, F. T., 222, 224, 228, 272 Curnming, Elaine, 412 Curnming, John, 412 Curnrnings, L. D., 661
o da Gama, Vasco, 531 Dahrendorf, R, 225 Daley, Richard, 488 Daly, Kathleen, 673, 679, 682, 685, 687, 688,690,691 Daniels, A. K, 568 Dannefer, Dale, 350, 365-66 Danvin, Charles, 1 Datesman, 5usan K, 678, 686 David, Christian, 545
Davies, Mark, 355 Davis, Allison, 172 Davis, Angela, 519, 521, 528, 676, 680 Davis, Fred, 418 Davis, Kingsley, 2, 9-22, 32, 106, 249,
326 Davis, Stephen F., 245, 292 DeBaryshe, Barbara D., 350 De Fleur, Melvin L., 470 Deitch, L., 634 DeJong,Alien R, 438 de la Croix, Robed, 534 Delgado, ).11. R, 566 Denney, Reuel, 325 DentJer, Robert A, 30 Denzin, Norman K, 220, 417 Depres, A., 21 Devine, Edward T., 93, 96, 104 Dewey, John, 384 Dexter, R c., 93, 104, 105 Dickens, Charles, 152, 169 Dickson, W. J., 172 Diekhoff, George, 292 Diekhoff, George M., 292-95 DiNlaggio, Paul, 368 Dinges, John, 546, 547 Dinitz, Simon, 107, 414, 476, 483, 484, 487 Dittmer, C. G., 93, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102,103,104,105,106 Dobash, Russell, 679 Dodder, Richard A., 292 Dollard, John, 169, 170, 172 Domhoff, William G., 487 Donovan, John E., 110, 354, 358 Dore, Ronald, 32 Douglas, Jack D., 476, 477, 481 Dow, G. 5., 93 Dow, Thomas E., Jr., 471 Drake, Francis, 533, 534 Dubin, Robert, 208, 209 Duelley, Sandra, 678 Duetscher, Invin, 194 Dumas, Alexander, 249 lJuncan, O. D., 665 Dunham, H. Warren, 65, 74-82 _.
Durbin, J., 618, 619 Durkheim, EmiIe, 1-2,3,4-8,38, 127-30,131-41,145,168,174, 175-77, 191, 192, 226, 281, 304, 314, 322,325,326,328,375,451,602 Durkin, Keith E, 3, 42-56 Duster, Tray, 570 Dworkin, Andrea, 679 Dynes, Russell R., 476, 484, 487
E Eaton, Mary, 674, 682, 690 Ebaugh, Helen Rose Fums, 368 Edelman, M., 563 Edison, Thomas, 43 Edwards, Paul, 293 Edwards, R., 212 Edwards, Susan M., 673 Ehrenreich, R, 563, 572 Ehrenreich, J., 563, 572 Eichmann, Adolph, 578 Eisenberger, Robert, 292 Eisenstein, Zillah, 674, 675 Elder, Glen H., Jr., 349, 351, 355, 363, 365,366,368 Eldridge, 5., 96, 98 Elliott, Delbert 5., 107, 110, lll, 277, 657,678 Elliott, 11. A., 93, 95, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101,102,103,104,105,106,107 Ellis, Albert, 413 Ellis, H., 20 Ellis, L., 711 Ellwood, C. A., 93, 95, 98-100, 101, 102, 103, 104 Empey, La11ar T., 283, 304-5, 342 Englehardt, H. T., Jr., 569 Ermis, Philip H., 617 Erickson, Kai T., 414 Erickson, M. C, 172 Erickson, Maynard,283,335,667 Ericson, Richard, 523, 526, 528, 529 Erikson, Kai T., 2, 22-30, 120, 398, 412,415,428,46~491,S80
ErmaIU1, M. D, 212, 220 Ernst, 11. L., 21
719
Ervin, E, 566 Esbensen, Finn-Aage, 66-67, 107-21 Exner,311 Exquemling, A 0., 532 Eysenck, Hans, 332, 336
F Fadallah, Hussem, 546 Fagan, Jeffrey, 108, 109 Fairchild, H. P, 93, 94, 96, 100, 104, 105 Falk, Gerhard, 52 Falk, James R., 435, 436 Fanon, Franz, 519 Faris, Robert, 65,74-82,527 Famsworth, Margaret, 108, 657 Famsworth, P. R, 249 Farrington, David P, 340, 350, 356, 682 Farris, George, 537 Feeney, Floyd, 637 Fellman, Gordon, 492 Felson, Marcus, 559, 602, 616, 617, 642 Ferdinand, Theodore N., 624 Ferracutti, Franco, 284 Ferri,311 Festinger, L., 172 Fielding, Henry, 30 Figlio, Robert, 335 Finkelhor, David, 679 Finley, Nancy J., 689 Firmey, H. c., 214 Firestone, Shulamith, 675 Fiske,l71 Fitzgerald, R W., 678 Fitzpatrick, Joseph P, 325 Fleisher, BeHon M., 602 Flexner,21 Follett, 11. P, 93, 102, 103 Folsom, J. K., 22 Ford, James, 93 Foucault, Michel, 222, 498 Fox, James A., 616 Fox, K. c., 437 Fox, Renee,571,592 Fox, Richard G., 566
720
Name Index
Frank, Stanley, 193 Frankford, Evelyn, 509 Praser, C. Gerald, 491 Frazier, E. Franklin, 82 Freedman, Estelle, 674, 684, 690
Freeman, H., 413 Freeman, W., 566 Freidson, E., 563, 564, 572
French, Laurence, 684 Freud, Sigmund, 142, 152, 167, 168-09, 169 Freyerhem, Williarn, 681 Frotrun, Erich, 169, 173
Fuller, Richard C, 469 Furman, Uncia J.,440 Furth, Gregg, 51
G Cabor, Thomas, 632 Galileo, 238 Garabedian, 526 Garfinkel, Harold, 30 Garfinkel, Paul E., 407, 414, 438 Garner, David M., 438 Garrarnone, Gina M., 53 Garreau, Jeel, 50 Carver, 481 Gates, Margaret, 679 Gay, Mary, 527 Gaynor, Paul, 544 Geis, G., 215, 218 Gelies, Richard j., 679 George, W. L., 21 Gerth, H. H., 94 Getschow, G, 217 Ghorbanifar, Manucher, 540
Giancana,Sarn,556 Gibbes, Jack P., 469 Gibbons, Don C, 222, 239, 243, 279, 471,526,528 Gibbs, jack E, 268, 415, 418, 471, 661, 667 Gibbs, John j., 637 Giller, Henri, 341 Gillette, j. M., 93, 95, 96-97, 98, 100, 103
Name Index
Gilligan, Carol, 688, 689 Gillin, j. L., 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99-100, 101,102,103,104,105,106 Gillis, A. R., 282, 560-61, 656-72, 678, 688 Gilmore, Gary, 591 Gilmore, H. R., 414 Gimbel, Cynthia, 365 Ginsberg, Irving j., 277 Gintis, Herbert, 502 Giordano,Peggy, 678 Gittlin, Todd, 491 Glanvill, joseph, 168 Glascock, Jack, 61 Glaser, Daniel, 261, 268, 270, 279, 280, 283,422-23,597,702 Glass, Albertj., 402, 407, 412, 414 Glazer, Nathan, 192, 325 Glueck, Eleanor, 340-41, 348, 351,
Greeley, Horace, 455 Green, M., 215 Greenberg, David, 368, 663, 668 Greenley, James R, 277 Greer, Gennaine, 679 Griffin, Brenda S., 269 Griffin, Charles T., 269 Griliches, Z., 618, 619 Griswold, A W., 168 Gross, Bertram M., 506 Gross, E., 212, 216, 220, 224 Grossmann, Samuel, 435 Grover, Cathy A, 292 Groves, W. Bryon, lOB, 109, 121, 282 Gmener, j. R., 93, 95, 96, 97, 105-6 Gruhl, john, 682 Guerry, A. M., 598 Gusfield, joseph R., 450, 454-62 Gussow, Z., 591
352,35~363,366,673
Gluecl<, Sheldon, 268, 269, 340-41, 673 Goddard, j., 565 Goffman, Erving, 30, 209, 398, 407, 412,414,418,443 Goldberg, Samuel, 617 Goldman, Nathan, 470 Goldstein, Paul J., 107 Goode, Williarn J., 325 Gora, Joann Gennaro, 678 Gordan, Linda, 690 Gordon, John E., 412 Gordon, Linda, 679 Gordon, Margaret T., 679 Gorz, Andre, 506 Gosnell, Harold E, 171 Gottfredson, Michael R., 262, 285, 304,329-42,348,352,363,367 Gough, Harrison, 336 Gould, Leroy, 602, 603, 617 Gould, R., 172 Goulden, joseph C, 544 Gouldner, Alvin W., 427, 474, 475, 478,486,524,529 Gramsci, 543 Grasmick, Harold G, 348, 689 Graves, T. D., 110
H Hachen, David, 664 Hagan, john, 282, 354, 368, 560-61, 656-72,65~661,663,678,688
Haight, Kathy, 46 Haines, Herb, 562 Hames, Valerie j., 292-95, 297-98, 300 Hale, Chris, 678 Hall, G. M., 22 Hall, Jerome, 251, 469, 527 Hall, R. H., 213 HaIleck, S. L., 564, 567 Halrni, Katherine A., 435, 436 Hamilton, Charles v., 481 R1.milton, G v., 20 Hand, Michael, 536-37, 538, 539 Haruner, Jalna, 679 Hannan, Michael, 368 Hanson, Robert c., 110 Harding, Britta, 439 Harper, E. B., 93, 98, 99, 103 Harries, K, 216 Harris, AlIen c., 53 Harris, Anthony R, 656, 673, 6B7 Harbnann, Heida, 675 Hartz, Louis, 462
721
Hartz-Karp, Janette, 684 Havighurst, R. J., 170, 172 I-iawldns, Gordon, 509 Hawkins, J. David, 277 Hawldns, Richard, 533 Hawley, Amos, 598-99 Hayden, T., 487, 488 Hayes, E. C, 93, 96, 104 Hayes, W. j., 101, 103 Hegel, G. W. E, 102 Heidensohn,Frances,673,674,677 Heimer, Karen, 266, 269, 277 Heitgard, Janet 1., 108, 109 HelIer, j., 526 Helmer, john, 498 Hempel, Carl, 32 Henderson, A. M., 260 Henry, A. E, 602 Henry, Andrew, 208 Heruy, Jules, 484 Henslin, james M., 592 Hepbum, John R., 269, 277 Herbener, Ellen 5., 368 Herbert, Charles c., 414 Hermstein, Richard J., 332, 342, 348, 560,646-56, 690 Hersh, Seyrnour, 545 Herzog, David B., 437 Hessler, R. M., 582 Hill, Gary D., 686-87 Hill, Jonathan, 353 Hindelang, Michael j., 110,335,605, 623,624,656,658,65~666,66~686
Hirschi, Travis, 236, 261, 262, 268, 272,277, 285, 304-5, 312-42, 343-44, 346,348,352,424,652,655,656, 657-58,659, 666, 667, 668, 669 Hitler, A., 578 Hobbes, Thomas, 326, 328 Hofstadter, Richard, 461, 462 Hollander, Nanci, 491, 518, 527 Hollingshead, August B., 412 Holrnes, Oliver Wendell, 256 Holmgreen, Dale, 537 Honey, Martha, 546 Honlgmann, John j., 469
722
Name Index
Name Index
Hooks, Bell, 676 Hoover, J. Edgar, 578 Homey, Karen, 169 Horowitz, David, 660 Horowitz, Irving Louis, 470, 495, 523, 529 Horvitz, Robert, 62 Hougan, Jim, 539, 544 Hough, j. M., 632 Houghton, Bernie, 537 Houton, David M., 538 Haward, John, 30 Howard, Ken, 109 Howcs,S3! Huba, G. j., 107 Hubbard, Elbert, 148 Huesmann, Rowell, 356 Hughes, Everett c., 392-93, 397, 442,
491 Huizinga, David, 66-67, 107-21, 277 Hull, john, 541, 546 Humphries, Laurie 1., 434, 435, 439, 445
Hurvitz, N., 564 Huxley, Aldous, 26, 30
I llg, Frances L., 412 Illich, 1., 563 Inciardi, James A., 107 Inkeles, Alex, 170, 527 Inauye, Daniel, 539 Ivie, Rachel, 365
J
jackal, R., 220 jacks,lrving, 414
Jackson, Bruce, 528, 602 jackson, Elton F., 265, 269-70 Jackson, George, 478,491, 519
Jackson, Robert L., 45, 48, 49, 51 Jacobs, John, 548 jagger, 676 jahoda, M., 174 james, N. McL, 437 james, William, 73, 173, 316, 326
janet, P., 171-72 Jayarate, Toby Epstein, 677 Jeffery, Clarence R., 261, 469, 471, 602 Jensen, Gary E, 269, 277, 667 jessor, Richard, 107, 110, 354, 356, 358, 366 Jessor, Shirley L., 107, 110 Jobaris, Russell, 51 Johnson,Bruce, 107 Johnson, Craig L., 435, 438 Johnson, Lyndon S., 544 Johnson, Richard E., 277 johnston, Lloyd D., 107 jnhnstone, John W. c., 108, 109, 121 Jonassen, c. T, 108 Jones, Elmer R., 148 Jemes, Emest, 167 Jones, John Paul, 534 joseph, Gloria I., 676, 680
K Kalucy, R. 5., 439 Kandel, Denise B., 107, 110, 280, 355 Kane, Kevin M., 292 Kanter, Rosabeth, 661 Kantrowitz, Barbara, 50 Kaplan, Howard R, 107 Kaplan, L., 634 Kapsis, Robert E., 108 Kardiner, Abram, 161, 169, 173, 412, 419 Karier, Clarence J., 502 Katz, jack, 359 Kellam, Sheppard G., 413 Kellens, G., 224 Keller, Evelyn Fox, 676 Kellert, S. R., 580, 581 Kelly, jonathan, 665 Kennedy, John F., 544 Kerbel, Sandra, 678 Kerry, john, 550 Kessler, Ronald, 368 Keyes, Paul, 485 Khashoggi, Adman, 540 Kkk, Edward, 682 Kiesler, Sara, 53
Kinsey, R. J., 222, 227 Kirchheirner, Otto, 469, 470 Kirschenman, Joleen, 354 K.issinger, Henry, 544 Kitsuse, John I., 469, 528 Kittrie, Nicholas, 568, 569-70, 574, 577,581,586,592 Kiapp, Grrin E., 412 Kieck, Gary, 666, 680 Kiein, Dorie, 673, 677, 678, 679, 689 Kiein,Lloyd,43,335,548 Kling, Lloyd, 56 Klockars, Carl 8., 602 Knowle5, J. H., 584 Kobrln, Francis E., 612 Kobrin, Solomon, 108, 109, 120, 121, 184-85,198,260,272 Kohlberg, Lawrence, 689 K005, Earl L., 414 Korn, Richard, 258, 261 Komhauser, Ruth R, 109, 235-36, 261, 262,272-78,284,350 Kramer, R c., 222, 224 ICra5ka, Peter, 107 Kreitman, Norman, 635 Kriseberg, H., 224, 527, 529 Krohn, Marvin D., 268, 271, 277, 281 Krout, John A., 462 Kruger, Henrlk, 536, 539 Kruttschnitt, Candace, 682 Kuhn, Thomas, 514, 526, 676 Kulp, D., 20 Kwitny, Jonathan, 538
L LaBeff, Emily E., 292-95 Lacey, Hubert J., 438, 439 Lafitte, Jean, 534 Lafitte, Pierre, 534 LaFree, 680 LaGrange, Randy L., 110 Lakatos, 1., 514, 526 Land, Kenneth c., 616, 617, 618 Landau, Saul, 546, 547 Lander, Bemard, 108 Lane-Poole, 531
723
LaPiere, Robert T., 249 LaRose, Robert T., 61 Lasswell, Harold D., 96, 169 Laub, John H., 108,305, 34!Hi9, 686 Lawless, Michael W., 632 Lawn, john, 542 Lazerson, Marvin, 502 Lea, j., 222, 227 Lecky, 18-19 Lefkowitz, Monroe, 356 Lefton, M., 473, 478 LeGolif, Louis, 533 Leiber, Michael J.f 108 Leifer, R., 581 Leigh, L. H., 225 Lemert, Edwin M., 354, 376-78, 385-90,398,402,412,414,415,416, 417,420,422,424,425-26,440,442, 471,491,577 Lennard,Henry, 575 Lentz, William P., 471 Leonard,691 Lemer, Max, 98 Lernoux, Permy, 547 Lesieur, H. R., 214 Lester, David, 61, 642 Letellier, Orlando, 546 Letkernann, Peter, 602 Leung, Jan, 682 Levi, M., 214, 223 Lewin, Kurt, 172 Lewis, Diane, 678, 684, 686 Lewis, jill, 676 Lewis, Linda D., 438 Lewis, Sinc1air, 71 Liazos, Alexander, 451-52, 487, 495, 529 Uberman, 5., 413 Liebowitz, Martin, 470 Lindesmith, Allied R, 192, 249, 250, 263,469 Link, B. G., 224 Lipset, Seymour M., 320, 327 Llazos, Alexander, 472-94 Loeb, M. B., 170 Loeber, Roll, 350, 351
724
Name Index
Name Index
Lohman, joseph D., 170 Lombroso, Cesare, 311 Long, 155 Lorber, Judith, 471 Larde, 676 Lottier, S., 251 Lowe, C. E, 655 Lowery, Sharon A., 53 Luckenbill, David E, 279 Luckmann, 471 Lukoff, frYing E, 107 Lunden, WaIter, 660 Lundman, R. J./ 212 Luxenburg, Joan, 43 Lyman, 5., 578 Lynd, H. M., 174 Lynd, Robert, 174, 524, 529 Lystad, Mary, 624
M
Maakestad, w. J., 222,224 MacIntyre, Donald, 534 MacKinnon, Catilerine A, 673, 676, 679 Mac Lean, Malcohn S., 168 Magnusson, David, 350, 359 Maguire, Mike, 641 Maher, j., 634 Mainwaring, Henry, 531 Malcolm X, 478, 519 Malzberg, Benjamin, 413 Mandel, Emest, 505 Mangold, G. B., 93, 94, 99 Mankoff, Milton, 378-79, 415-30 Mann, Corarnae Richey, 674, 686 Mann, John H., 413 Mannhelm, K., 96, 98, 103 Manor, Ray, 537 Mansfield, Roger, 602, 617 Manson, Charles, 578 Marcos, Anastasios C, 277
Marcos,Ferdinand,538 Marcuse, Herbert, 506 Marden, Orison Swett, 148, 155 Mark, V:, 566 Marko!!, john, 46, 48
Marolla, Joseph, 284 Martin, Del, 679 Martin, John Bower, 602 Martin, John M., 325 Martin, Steven 5., 107 Marx, Karl, 451, 499, 501, 505, 510, 519,543,663 Marzotto, 529 Massey, James L., 271 Matek, Ord, 47, 61 Matsueda, Ross 1., 235-36, 261-83 Matza, David, 2, 3, 219, 235, 237, 251-60,26~276,283,284,292-301,
317, 318-19, 324, 327, 390--91, 425, 474,477,479,487, 489, 491, 496, 529, 655,660 Maurer, David W., 193, 602 May, G.,21 Mayhew, Patricia M., 632, 635 Maynard,Mary, 676 Mayo, Elton, 168 McAdam, Doug, 351, 368 McCabe, Donald 1., 237, 292-301 McCaghy, Charles H., 224, 473, 478 McCord, James, 327, 340, 341, 544 McCord, Joan, 325, 327 McCord, William, 325 McCorkle, Lloyd W, 258, 261 McCormick, John W, 53 McCoy, Alfred W., 535, 536 McDermott, M. Joan, 686 McDonald, WaIter, 537 McGill, V. j., 174 McGinniss, Joe, 484 McGregor, Loretta N., 292 McGuire, TImothy W, 53 McLntosh, Mary, 226,508 Mclntyre,jenrrie, 471 McKay, Henry D., 82, 108, 109, 120, 174,182-83,191,198,263,284,598 McKenzie, Roderick D., 65 McKinley, William, 148 McKnight, john, 579 McLorg, Penelope A, 379, 434-48 McMurtrie, D. C, 21 Mead, George Herbert, 61, 101-2,
Mead, Margaret, 171 Mechanic, David, 414, 564, 583-84 Meier, Robert, 452-53, 513-29 Melicl<, M .E., 580 Menard, Scott, 107, 110, 125 Menezes,61 Menninger, W. C, 568 Mercer, Jane R., 469 Merrill, E E., 93, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102,103,104,105,106 Merton, Robert, 28, 32, 127-30, 142-74,175-78,187-91,192,194, 195-201,204-5,208,209,210-11, 212,213,221,222,225-26,271,281, 328,431,521-22,528 Meyers, Gustavus, 171 Michael, Jerome, 312, 520, 528 Michaels, James W., 262, 292, 306 Miethe, Terance, 292 :Miles, Maria, 677 Miller, Eleanor M., 678, 686, 689, 690 Miller, H. A, 93, 96, 97 Miller, K. 5.,564 Miller, W. B., 655 Mills, C. Wright, 65-66, 83-106, 249, 472,524,529,578 Mills, Theodore M., 209 Minuchin, Salvador, 439 Mischel, W., 655 Mitchell, juliet, 675 Moffitt, Terrie E., 349, 353, 356 Mohr, john, 368 Money, John, 51 Moore, Melinda, 108 Moore, Wllbert, 32 Morales, George, 541 Morales, Ricardo, 547 Morris, Allison, 682 Morris, NorvaIr 509 Mossadegh, Mohammed, 545 Mouton, Jane 5., 413 Moyer, lmogene 1., 679, 681 Moynihan, Daniel, 546 Mukherjee, S. K., 678 Mullins, 676, 687 Murray, Gilbert, 156, 17], 172-73 . "•• ___ • U
A
1£:O 1'7.1
725
Muslo, David E, 498 Myers, David, 53 Myers, Earl D., 384 Mylonas, Anastassios D., 471
N Nadler,61 Naffine, Ngaire, 674,688 Nagel, Emest, 32 Nagel, Lr 682 Nagel, S., 682 Nagin, Daniel, 348, 349, 352, 353, 357, 367 Namenwirth, J. Zvi, 602, 617 Nasby, Petroleum Volcano (later Vesuvius),152 Natalizaia, Elena, 678 Neckerman, Kathryn, 354 Neiderhoffer, Arthur, 470 Nelson, S. D., 579 Nettler, Gwynn, 623 Neustadter, Roger, 53 Newfield, Jack, 482-83 Newman, Oscar, 602 Nicolaus, M., 427 Nietzsche, 163 Nihill, Grant, 537 Nimrodi, Yaacov, 540 Nisbet, Robert A, 209, 328, 427, 528 Nixon, Richard, 484, 544, 578 Norris, Terry D., 292 North, Oliver, 539, 541, 542 Noyes, A. P., 248 Nugan, Frank, 536-37, 538 Nunnally, jum c., jr., 406, 413 Nye, F. lvan, 314, 326
o Oakley, Ann, 674, 675 O'Connor, James, 506, 509 Odegard, Peter, 462 Odum, Howard W., 60, 93, 103, 106 Ogbum, William E, 43, 60, 103 Ohlin, L10yd E., 193, 194, 261, 271, 277, 284, 326, 335, 623-24, 655 Ohlin, Richard E., 198, 199, 203, 209 rYII..{"l1",,, P"I-ri ...1-l\,f
ln7
726
Name Index
Name Index
Orcutt, G. H., 618, 619 Oreutt, James D., 269, 283 Onvell, George, 222, 257, 261 Osmond, H., 571 Ovesey, Lionel, 419 Owen, John, 539 Owen, Robert, 541, 546
p Pagelow, Mildred, 680 Palloni, Alberto, 354 Palmer, MichaeI, 542 Panciina, Robert J., 110 Parenti, WchaeI- 548 Park, Robert E., 65, 71-74, 82,106,263 Parrnelee, Mauriee, 93 Parsons, Talcott, 3D, 32, 200, 204, 209, 260,261,326,328,419,427,431,563, 564,571,574 Pasamanick, Benjamin, 401-2, 412 Passas, Nikos, 130, 210-26, 211, 226,
228 Pastora, Eden, 546 Pateman, Carol, 675 Paternoster, Raymond, 348 Patterson, Gerald R., 350 Pauly, John, 663, 665, 668 Pearce, F., 221, 222 Pearson, Frank S., 277, 278 Perrone, Luca, 663, 664, 665 Perry, Anthony R., 292 Peters, T. J., 212 Petersilia, 335 Peterson, Robert, 538 Petras, James, 530 Petrashek, D., 216 PeHee, George 5., 174 Pfau-Vincent, Bettye A., 107 Pfohl, S. J., 567 Pfuh!, Erdwin H., Jr., 56 Phelps, H. A, 93 Phillips, Anne, 690 Phillips, Derek, 591 Piaget, Jean, 321-22, 328 ricHes, Andrew, 351 Pierce, Glen L. t 617
Piliavin, Irving, 314, 324, 325, 326, 328,415,470 Piper, Elizabeth, 108 Pitts, Jesse, 569, 572, 573, 591 riven, Frances Fox, 503, 691 Plant, James 5., 167 Platt, 526, 529 PIa tt, Anthony, 284 Platt, S., 635 Plenska, Danuta, 678 Plunkett, Richard J., 401, 412 Polanzi, C. W., 224 Pope, Carl E., 601 Potter, Gary W., 540 Pound, Roscoe, 469 Price, G. v., 97 Printz, Adolph M., 435 Pryor, Richard, 680
Q Qaddafi, Muamrnar, 547-48, 578 Queen, S. A, 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 103, lD5-6 Quetelet, Adolphe, 598 Quinn, Olive W., 474 Quinney, Richard, lD8, 210, 430, 451, 462-71,527, 663 Quintero, Rafael "Chi Chi," 546, 556 Quinton, David, 353
R Rachlin, H., 655 Radosevich, Marcia, 270-71, 277 Radzinowicz, L., 306 Rafaeli, Shalzaf, 53 Rafier, Nicole Hahn, 678, 684, 690 FCunsey, Elizabeth, 350 Ranulf, Svend, 174, 196-97, 208 Rasche, Cluistine, 684,691 Rattikone, Ouane, 536 Ray, Marsh, 395, 397 Reagan, Ronald, 539, 540, 546, 547 Reckless, WaIter C., 303-4, 306-12, 471 Redden, Elizabeth, 250 Redl, Fritz, 253, 259, 261, 307, 312
Redlich, Frederick c., 412, 414, 580, 581 Reichenbach, Hans, 95 Reinhardt, J. M., 93, 95, 96-97, 98, 100, 103 Reinhartz, Shulamit, 677 Reis5, AlbertJ., Jr., 268, 314, 326, 397, 470,598,602,687 Reppetto, Thomas, 601, 602, 632 Reynolds, Janice, 575, 592 Reynolds, Larry T., 592 Reza Shah Pahlevi, 545 Rhodes, Lewis, 268
RJchards, Pamela, 688 Richards, T. W., 249 Richmond, M. E., 86, 97 Riemer, Svend, 251 Riesrnan, David, 325, 460 Riger, Stephanie, 679 Rimlinger, Gaston V, 507, 510 Ritchie, Robert 532 Ritenbaugh, Cheryl, 438 Robbins, Cynthia, 107 Robins, Lee, 21, 336,337-38 Robinson, Robert, 665 Roethlisberger, F. J., 172 RogeTs, EvereH M., 471 Rogosa, David, 368 Rojeck, Dean, 335 Roman, Paul, 591 Roncek, Dennis W., 622 Rooney, Elizabeth A, 471 Rose, Amold M., 209 Rose, Thomas, 481, 487 Roselli, John, 556 Rosen, G., 565 Rosenbaum, James, 365 Rosenberg, Debra, 50 Rosenfeld, Rachel A, 365 Rosenquist, C. M., 96, 100, 103 Rosenwald, Julius, 157 Rosenzweig, 5., 169 Rosett, A, 706-7 Rosman, Bernice L., 439 Ross, E. A., 101 Rossi, Peter H., 170, 657
c.,
727
Rosten, Leo c., 168 Rotenberg, M., 591 Roth, Jeffery, 335 Rothenberg, M., 676 Rourke, Jack, 485 Rowe,Alan, 292 Rubington, Earl, 472, 479, 487, 490 Ruch, F. L., 249 Rude, George, 492 Rusche, George, 469, 470 Rushing, William A, 481 Russell, Diana E., 435, 439 Rutter, Michael, 341, 351, 353, 355, 357,365 Ryan, William, 576 Ryder, Norman, 366
S Sadow, Leo, 413 Sagi, Phillip c., 616--17, 624 Sampson, RobertJ., 108, 109, 121, 282, 305,348-69 Sanday, Peggy Reeves, 680 Sapir, Edward, 167 Saunders, Lyle, 414 Scarpitti, Frank R, 678 Scarr, Harry A, 601, 602, 607 Schachter, Stanley, 413 Scheff, Thomas j., 377-78, 397-411, 414,415,416,420,424,425,426,577 Scheler, Max, 163, 174 Schelling, Thomas, 503, 509 Scherer, F. M., 214 Schiesskopf,526 Schlesier-Stropp, Barbara, 437 Schlossman, Steven, 682 Schneider, Joseph W., 558--59, 563--96 Sclmeider, Rene, 546 Schnurer, 326 SclU"ager, L. 5., 210 Schuerman, Leo A., 108, 109, 120, 121 Schuessler, Karl, 192 Schulz, Barbara, 682 Schur,Ed>vin,420,435,438,442,444 Schwartz, Donald M., 435, 438 Schwartz, Estelle, 435, 436
728
Schwartz, John, 49 Schwartz, Joseph E., 108, 110
(
lir:
I'
Name Index
Name Index
Schwendinger, Herman, 120, 121, 284,520,527,528,530,552 Schwendinger, Julia, 120, 121, 284, 520,527,528,530,552 Scull, A, 580 Scully, Diana, 284 Seal, Barry, 540 Seale, Bobby, 519 Secombe, Wally, 509 Secord, Richard, 539, 546 Seidman, Robert R, 543, 549, 663 Sellin, Thorsten, 264, 335, 469, 520, 528 Selvin, Hanan, 424 Selvini-Palazzoli,439 Shackley, Theodore S., 537, 538, 539, 546,556 Shank, Dolores M., 292 Shannon, r. V., 93, 101, 103 Sharkey, Jacqueline, 542 Shaw, Clifford R., 81-82, 108, 109, 120, 174,182-83,191,192,198,263,284, 384,598 Sheldon, W. H., 348 Shibutani, Tomatsu, 279, 410, 414 Shils, Edward A., 261 Short, james F., jr., 208, 210, 268, 271, 277, 280, 284, 323, 324, 359, 602 Shover, Neal, 280, 284, 351 Shuval, j. T., 568 Siegel, Jane, 53 Sigler, M., 571 Silberman, Mathew, 280 Silk, L., 220 Sills, D., 591 Silver, A, 487 Slincha-Fagan,CJra, 108,109-10, 121 Simmer, George, 174 SUnmons, j. L., 477, 479, 485, 486, 489, 490 Simon, Alexander, 414 Slinon, H. A, 214 Slinon, Rita, 656, 678, 691 Simpson, George, 191, 325
Slinpson,john,282,560-61,656-72, 678,688 Slinpson, Sally S., 561--62, 67:3--701
Sinclair, Andrew, 470 Singer, Jerome E., 413 Skirmer, B. E, 270, 566 Skinner, William E, 271 Skipper, j. K., 473, 478 Sklare, Marshall, 326 Skogan, Wesley G., 623 Skolnick, Jerome H., 192, 470 Small, A. W., 94 Smart, A., 226 Smart, Carol, 673, 674, 677, 678, 684, 685,689 Smelser, Neil J., 198, 208, 527 Smith, AI, 459 Smith, Douglas, 657, 666, 681 Smith, R. A., 214 Smith, Ruth E., 53 Smith, Spencer, 538 Smith, T. V., 89 Snare, 529 Snitow, Ann, 509 Socrates, 7 Solomon, Philip, 412 Sontag,Susan,578-7~591
Sorenson, J., 567 Sorokin, Pitirlin A, 94, 95, 96, 171, 173,520,660 Spaulding, John A., 191, 325 Spehnan, Elizabeth A, 687 Spencer, J. c., 213 Spicker, Paul T., 292 Spiegel, H., 412 Spitzer, Leo, 168 Spitzer, Steven, 451, 452, 495-512, 663,665,668 Spohn, Cassia, 682 Sprague, joey, 664 Spring, j oel, 502 Starey, judith, 674, 677, 690, 691 Stanfield, Robert E., 268 Stangler, Ronnie 5., 435, 444 Stanko, Elizabeth A, 679 Stark, Rodney, 108
Staw, B. M., 215 Steadman, H. J., 580 Steffensmeier, Darrell J., 656, 678, 687 Steinmetz, Suzanne K, 679 Stem, B. j., 103 Stern, W., 174 Stevenson, Keith, 632 Stinchcombe, Arthur 1., 212-13, 315, 326,470 Stockwell, John, 541 Stoeckle, J., 564 Stolt Clarice, 587 Stonequist, Everett, 82 Stouffer, Samuel A, 217, 258, 261 Stollthamer-Loeber, Magda, 350, 356 Straus, Murray A, 679 Strauss, A. 1., 250 Strodtberk, Fred L., 280, 365, 602 Stryker, Sheldon, 279 Stuckey, Marilyn K, 438 Sturman, Andrew, 632 Sudnow, David, 470 Suillvan, H. S., 171 Sullivan, Mercer, 358 Sumner, 71, 99 Sllslick, Alvin, 413 Sutherland, Edwin H., 111, 121, 129, 154,169-70,174,179-81,183,191, 192,193,198,218,220,225,233-34, 235,236,237-39,249,251,255, 260, 261,262,263,264-76,283,284,311, 470,519,520-21,528,602,655 Sutton, Paul, 605, 624 Suval, Elizabeth M., 686-87 Sweezy, Paul M., 505, 506 Sykes, Gresham M., 30, 219, 235, 237, 251--60,269,276,283,284,292-301, 317,318-19,327, 390-91, 514, 515, 526,527,660 Szabadi, E., 655 Szalai, Alexander, 605, 624 Szasz, A., 223, 226,398,403--4,412 Szasz, Thomas 5., 412, 475, 486, 564, 568,569-70,578,581 Szwajkowski, E., 215
729
T Tarnosaitis, Nancy, 47 Tandy, Jearmette, 169 Tannenbaurnn,Frank,192,203,20~
376,380-84,415,471 Tappan,Paul,521,528 Tarde, 311 Tarling, Roger, 356 Taub, Diane E., 379, 434-48 Tawney, 168 Taylor, Ian, 450-51, 453, 526, 528, 663 Taylor, Ralph B., 108 Theander 70, 439 111eil,Henli,618 Thomas, Jo, 548 Thomas, William I., 64--65, 67-70, 72, 74,86,263 Thompson, E., 526 Thompson, Hunter 5., 481 Thompson, .Michael G., 435, 438 Thomberry, Terrence, 277, 350, 657 Thorne, Barrie, 674,677,690,691 Thomer, Isidor T., 192 Thrasher, F, 260 TIedemann, K, 221, 223 TIlly, Charles, 530 TIttle, Charles K, 265, 269-70, 279, 292, 348, 353, 354, 657, 666, 688, 711 Tobias, j. j., 603 Toby, jackson, 217, 258, 261, 326 Toffler, 488-89 Tomes, Nancy, 679-80 Tracy, G. S., 591 Trafficante, Santa, Jr., 556 Tremblay, Pierre, 642, 643 Trice, Harrison, 591 Truth, Sojourner, 676 Tryon, Robert c., 109, 121 Tuma, N ancy, 368 Tumin, Melvin, 3, 30--42, 427, 434 Turk, Austin T., 469, 470, 509, 527 Turner, K, 418, 434 Turner, Stansfield, 544-45 Twaddle, A C, 582
730
Name Index
U Ullman, Albert D., 194
V Vaillant, George, 364, 366 Van den Haag, E., 526 Vander Zanden, James W., 53 Van Gelder, Lindsey, 50 Vasquez, Jarge Ochoa, 541-42 Vaughan, E., 211, 212,214, 215, 220 Veatch, Robert, 587 Veblen, Thorstein, 151, 317, 460 Verill, A Hyatt, 534 Vesco, Robert, 545 Vietorisz, Thomas, 498 Villernez, Wayne, 657,. 666 Visher, ehristy, 335, 681 Vogel, D., 220 Vogenfanger, Martin, 491 Void, George B., 469, 470 Van Hentig, 311 Voss, Harwin L., 268, 270
W Wagatsuma, H., 706-7 Waite, E., 657 Waitzkin, Howard, 564, 568, 591 Walder, Leopold, 356 Waldfogel, Joel, 353 Walker, E. E., 93, 100, 527 Wallach, Stephanie, 682 Waller,101 Wallerstein, James 5., 170 Walters, Grant, 538 Walton, Paul, 450-51, 453, 526, 528, 663 Ward, Artemus, 152 Ward, David, 292 Warner, Robert A., 170, 171 Warner, W. Lloyd, 170, 409, 414 Washnis, George J., 602 Waterman, Barbara, 568, 591 Waterman, R. H., Jr., 212 Watson-Munro, T., 56 Weatherly, U. G., 93, 104 Webb, Jim, 108 TAT.'- • __
Name Index
Weinberg, M. S., 472, 479, 487, 490 Weinberg, S. Kirson, 261, 270, 279 Weinberg, Thomas 5., 52 Weinberger, Caspar, 539-40 Weiner, Neil Alan, 277 Weinstein, D., 634 Weis, joseph G., 110, 277, 335, 656, 658,666,669 Weiss, Joseph, 659 Weitzman, Ilene H., 682 Welch, M. R., 711 Welch, Susan, 682 Wellford, Charles E., 616-17, 624 Wellman, David, 676 Wells, F. L., 173 Wessells, lvlichael, 53 West, Donald, 340, 341 West, Patricia 5.,174 Westelmarck, E., 20 Westley, William A., 470 Wetli, Charles v., 53 Wheeler, Stanton, 659 White, Garland E, 681 White, Helene Raskin, 110 Whitehead,A N., 168 Whiteman, Martin, 107 Whitten, Lee, 548 Whyte, William E, 170, 183-84, 185-86,193,225 Wiegert, H. Thomas, 434 Wilkens, Leslie T., 642 Willde, R, 213 Wilkinson, Paul, 632 Wilks, Judith A, 602 Willi, Jurg, 435 Williams, Robin, Jr., 255, 260 Williamson, Henry, 602 Wilson, Edwin E, 538 Wuson, Everett K., 326 Wilson, James Q., 227, 332, 342, 348, 367,470,526,560,646-56,678,690 Wilson, Nand Koser, 679, 680, 684 Wilson, Wtlliam Julius, 366 Wineman, David, 261, 312 Wmgard, Joseph A, 107 Winter, Ella, 16 l"T;_~h
T
~ •• :~
0'1 '1£:,1
Wish, Eric, 107 Wolff, K., 578 Wolfgang, Marvin E., 284, 335, 481, 602 Wood, Arthur Lewis, 470 Wood, Pamela, 679 Woodard, J. 103 Woodworth, R. 5., 248 Wootton, Barbara, 313, 325, 570 Wright, Erik Olin, 658, 663, 664, 665 Wright, Richard, 641, 643 Wrobel, Sylvia, 434 Wrong, Dennis, 32 Wyle, Clement, 170
w.,
y Yamaguchi, Kazuo, 280 Yap, P. M., 414 Yarrow, Marian R., 412
731
Yates, Earl E, 537 Yeager, P. c., 215, 216, 218 Young, Donald, 170, 528 Young, Jock, 222, 227, 450-51, 453, 526,528,663 Young, K., 249 Young, T., 223, 224 Young, Vemetta D., 686
Z Zaretsky, Eli, 509 Zavala, Julio, 542 Zietz, Dorothy, 687 Zimowski, lvlichele, 368 Zipf, George K., 643 Znaniecki, Florian, 64-65, 67-70, 263 Zola, Irving, 563, 569, 574, 584 Zorbaugh, H. W., 82, 173 Zuckerman, S., 9, 10, 20
Subject Index
A Abolition, 458 Abortion, 486 Abstinence doctrines of, 458 as symbol of middle-class membership, 457 Abstract generalizations, 275 Abstraction, logical, 237-38, 263, 275 Achieved rule-breaking, 417, 419-23,
429 Adjustment, 92-93 Adultery, 38 Affirmative action, 675 Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), 568-69 Alcoholism, 189, 190
disease model of, 568, 570, 581 and drunken driving, 636-37 theories of, 387 Alternate behaviors, presence or absence of, 267 American Qvil Liberties Union, 548 Analytic induction, 263 Anomic suicide, 140 AnornJe, 108, 127-232,233 and conionnity, 150-51 and corporate deviance, 210-26 cultural goals in, 143-49 and deviant behaviDr, 174-91 ind!:idual ~~aptation in, 150-64
institutional nonns in, 143-49 and rebellion, 162-64 requisite conditions fOf, 128-29 and retreatism, 160-62 and ritualism, 158-60 role of family in, 165-66 and social structure, 142-74 strain toward, 164-65 Anomie theory, 449 and assumption of discontinuity,
199-200 and deviance and social identity,
205-8 of deviant behavior, 195-99 and responses to deviance, 200-205 Anorexia nervosa, 434-48 etlmographic study of, 379-80 Anticipatory fears, 388 Anticipatory socialization, 205-6 AntiHSaloon League, 459 Antisocial behavior, 337 continuity and change in, 349 and human nature, 305 Antiwar movements, 475, 548 Apostolic function, 408 Appeal to higher loyalties, 299-300 Arms smuggling, 539-43 Arsonists, 651 Aryan Brotherhood Youth Move___ '- en
t:1
734
Subject Index
Ascriptive rule-breaking, 417-19, 429 Assassinations, 453 Assimilative reform, 458 Attachment, 313-14 as barriers to delinquency, 346 and belief, 321-22 and commihnent, 320-21 Automobiles, 72
B BANISH (Bulirnicsl Anorexics In
SeU-Help), 436-37, 443 Bay of Pigs invasion, 544 Behavior. See also Criminal behavior antisocial, 305, 337, 349
collective, 198 delinquent, 305, 380-84, 656-72 development of problem, and changes in, 498 individual and social systems of, 403-6 presence or absence of alternate, 267
Behaviorism, 566 Behavior modifications, 566 Beliefs, 317-19 and attachment, 321-22 and neutralization,3IB and rationalizations, 318 Biological impulse, 142 Biological model, 1 Black markets, 202 Black Muslims, 478 Blue Cross and Blue Shield, 582 . Boland amendment, 539 Bond theory, 304 Bone-pointing magic, 404, 409 Bootlegging, 16 Boundaries, 25 communities as normative, 2 description of system as maintaining,23 Boys' clubs, 74 Boy Scouts, 74 Broad generalization, 488Bulimia, 434-48
Subject Index
Bulimics/ Anorexics In Self-Help (BANISH), 436-37, 443 Bureaucracy, 212-13 Business establishments, trends in, 614
C California's Proposition 13 taxpayer revolt, 585 Capitalism, 498 corporate, 502 and corporate deviance, 211-12 emergence at 281-82 and generation of problem populations,452 Marxist theories of class structure under, 281--82 production of deviance in, 499-505 and prostitution, 14-16 rise of, 487-88 state, and new forms of control, 506-9 welfare-state, 452 Career development model of deviant behavior, 376 Career deviance, 390-97 Causation, 332 Causes distinction between symptoms and,41 effective, 387 original, 387 CB radio, 43 Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), 53~541,543,544-45,548
Change along continuum, 357 definition of, 356 importance of, in study of crime, 348-69 person-based, life-history approachto, 359-64 Chastity, premarital, 11 Cheating among college students, 292-301 Chicago "police riot" (1968),488 ,-,I..; ___ ~
~~1..~~1
il~'J
~1'J
~1'7
and cultural transmission, 198 and differential association, 198, 235-36,263-64 distinctive features of, 63 emergence of, 63 and new criminology, 519-21 pragmatic philosophy of, 265 social ecology tradition of, 108 Otildhood, importance of, and selfcontrol,348 Child-rearing ineffective, 304 and self-control, 340--41 Choice-structuring properties concept of, 633-36 of crimes, 636--40 and offender perceptions, 640--43 Circularity, 28 Circular zones, natural areas depicted as, 75--82 City, natural areas of, 65, 74-82 Civil rights organizations, 548 Civil rights protesters, 475 Class, neo-Marxian measure of, 663-65 Class conflict, 450-51 Class differentials in gaining access to illegitimate means, 186-87 Classical theory, 331, 558 Class issues, 454 Class structure of delinquency, 656-72 of gender, 656-72 Climate of opinion, 168 Closure, 357 Coercive reform, 458-59 COINTELPRO, 548 Collective behavior, 198 Collective order, 175-76 Collective sentiments and crime,S, 6,7 College students, cheating among, 292-301 Calor, women of, 676 Commercial prostitution, 13-14 Commitment, 314-16
735
as barriers to delinquency, 346 and involvement, 321 Commihnent ceremonies, 27-28 Communitarianism, 706 Communi ties definition of an individual, 376 and deviance, 23-25 normative boundaries of, 2 social relations in, 71 Community structure and drug use, 66-67, 107-21 temporal components of, 598-99 Compulsory education, 502 Computer and cyberspace and deviant information, 44-53 and sexual deviancy, 47-53 and social behavior, 55-56 Computer sex, 3 prognOSiS for research, 56-57 Concubinage, 11,12 Condemners, condemnation of, 295, 298 as technique in neutralization, 258 Conflict, 490 Coniorrrilty,303,449 and types of individual adaptation, 150-64 Conscience, concept of, 332 Conscientious objector, 478 Containment, 508 components of external and internal. 306-7 external, 307 internal,307 Containment theory, 303-4, 306-12 advantages in use, 310 and probability, 307-9 Contras, 539 Control, state capitalism and new forms of, 506-9 Control system, development and operation of, 498 Control theory, 303-74, 449, 653-54, 702-3 of delinquency, 312-29 ,
1
•
r " ••
736
Subject Index
Subject Index
and low self-control, 329-42 Conventional and deviant behavior, 1 Conversion, 508 Corporate capitalism, 502 Corporate deviance and anomie, 210-26 and capitalism, 211-12 definition of, 210 Courtship, 12 Covariance structure analysis, 269 Covert institutional violence, 452, 473,482 Credibility, hierarchy of, 495 Crime-control policy and rational choice theory, 643-44 Crime displacement, 631-46 rational choice perspective on, 631-32 Crime rates as expression of normative conflict, 265-66 and family activities, 607-11 rela tionship of household activity ratio to, 616-21 temporal changes in, 267 trends in, 4, 8 and social change, 596-630 Crimes, 33, 129,472. See also Stateorganized crime as choice, 648-50 choice-structuring properties of, 636-40 and collective sentiments,S, 6, 7 connection between impulsiveness and,651 containment theory of, 306-12 definition of, 5, 463 as dysfunctional, 3 elite, 687-88 as eufunctions, 3 functional theory of, 4-8 importance of change in study of, 348-69 and lack of self-control, 304 meaning of, in new crirrtiTtology, 515-16
motivation to, 323-25 multiple-factor approach to, 262-63 normality of, 5 official records of,521-22 as phenomenon of nonnal sociolo-
gy,8 as political behavior, 464 predatory, 559, 703 presence of, in all societies, 4, 5 and prostitution, 16-17 punishment for, 2 and race, 685-87 social function of, 1-2 and social pathology, 517 social reality of, 462-71, 467-68 theories of, 387 traits predicting subsequent involvement in, 340 usefulness of, 6-7, 7-8 Crime trends and cycles composition of, 615-16 macrolevel analyses of, 602-3 Criminal activity as catalyst for social change, 2 and immediate gratification of desires, 333 risk of criminal penalty for, 334 structure of, 598 Criminal behavior acquisition of patterns of, 234 association with social and personal pathologies, 237-38 delined,515 developmental explanation of, 241-43 distribution of, 187-89 explanations of, 239-40 as individual pathology, 463 learning, 264-65 and opportunity, 180-81 rationalization of, 244-48 theory of, 646-56 Criminal conceptions, construction of, 467 Criminal conspiracies, 453
Criminal definitions application of, 464-65 development of behavior patterns in relation to, 466-67 formulation of, 463-64 Criminal enterprise, support of, 508-9 Criminality concept of, 332 low self-control and, 329-42 social class position as determinant of, 521-22 Crirninalization, 465 Criminal law enforcement of, 465 fonnulation of, 463-64 Criminals acquisition of roles as, 182 careers as, 185-86 as member of minority group, 464 process of making, 382-83 in social life, 8 value system of, 185 Criminal subcultures, 707 Criminal values, cultural transmission of, 182 Criminological theory, problem for, 237-39 Criminology. See also New criminolo-
gy emergence of field of, 235 feminist, 673-701 liberal,518-19 Marxian, 657 Cultural conflicts, significant role of, in American politics, 454 Cultural deviance theory, 273-74, 654 Cultural goals disjunction between socially structured opporhmity and, 177-78 patterns of, 143-49 Culturallag, 90-91 Cultural nonns, 168 Cultural transmission, 174 Cultural transmission-differential association tradition, 198-99
737
Cumulative continuity, 353 distinguishing self-selection from, 352-55 Cumulative disadvantage, 354
D Dadaist movement, 425 Decarceration, 507-8, 580 Decriminalization, 581 Delinquency, 71. See also Juvenile delinquency attachment to peers and development of, 305 class structure of, 656-72 conflict between young and community in, 380-84 control theory of, 312-29 and family, 340-41 motivationto,323-25 and neutralization, 318-19 power-control theory of, 656-72 prediction of, across lines of gender, class, and race, 345--47 relation between drug use and, 336-37 Delinquent sub-culture, 251-60 Delusions, 401 Demand and prostitution, 17 Denial,401 of injury, 297 as technique of neutralization, 256-57 and labeling, 406-8 of responsibility, 295, 296-97 of responsibility as technique of neutralization, 255-56 of victim, 297-98 as technique of neutralization, 257 Depoliticization of deviant behavior, 576-77 Depression, 176,401 Descriptive analyses, 601-2 Detenninisrn, 332 Deterrence, 688-89 Developed countries, suicide rates of, 128
738
Subject Index
Developing countries, suicide rates of,128 Developmental change and turning pOints, 366 Developmental explanation of criminal behaviof, 241-43 Developmental psychology, ontogenetic approach as dominant in, 350 Deviance, 1, 2, 3, 22-30 in capitalist society, 499-505 career, 390-97 and class structure, 66 in communities, 23-25 corporate, and anomie, 210-26 impact of social control on, 303-4, 306-12 medicalization of, 579-88 and monopoly capital, 505-6 perpetuation of, 26-27 primary, 440-41 problem in defining, 22-23 and public condemnation, 375 responses to, 200-205 secondary, 377, 441-43 and social complexity, 64 and social identity, 205-8 Deviance theory, 130, 497-98 traditional, 495-96 Deviant acceptance of role as, 408-11 focus on consequences of identifying a person as, 375-76 Deviant behavior and anomie, 174-91 anomie theory of, 195-99 career development of, 376 consolidated approach to, 187-91 depoliticization of, 576-77 and differential association and neutralization, 233-34 ecology of, 182 medical social control of, 558-59 pressures toward, 175 symptoms of mental illness.as residually, 399-400
Subject Index
and technology, 42--44 versatility of, 335 Deviant information and computer and cyberspace, 44-53 Deviant motivations, 391 Deviant sub-cultures, 218 Deviation primary, 385-90 secondary, 385-90 Differential association and neutralization, 233-301 and acquisition of criminal behavior patterns, 234 and criminological theory, 237-39 criticisms of, 236 and deviant behavior, 233-34 directions for future research, 27&-l12 empirical and theoretical applicability,236 and explaining criminal behavior, 239--43 Komhauser's critique, 272-78 operationalizing and testing theory,268-70 and rationalization, 234-35, 244--48,255,293 and situational ethics, 236-37, 292-301 and techniques of neutralization, 251--60 Differential associations, 129, 174, 180,264,449,654 Differential association theory, 111, 183 current state of, 261-83 development, 262-67 revisions of, 270-72 Differential identification, 270 Differentials in access to illegitimate means, 188-89 Differential social organization, 243, 264,265--66,275 Differentiation of levels of analysis, 238-39 of explanation, 263
DINA,546 Direct-contact predatory violations, 559,597 minimal elements of, 599 Disdpline absence of, and low sell-control, 338 moral,135 Discontinuity, assumption of, 199-200 Discovery, 247 Disease model of alcoholism, 568, 570,581 Disinterested reform, 455 Disorganizing factors, distinct types of, 80 Dramatization of evil, 380-84 Drift,219 Drug addiction, 189, 394 and difficulty of reversing deviant cycle, 395-96 Drug cultures, 190 Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA), 547 Drug trafftcldng, 540--43, 550-51 Drug use and community structure, 66-67, 107-21 relation between delinquency and, 336-37 Drunken driVing, 636-37. See also Alcoholism Dysfunctions, 3, 33-34
E Eating disorders. See Anorexia nervosa; Bulimia Eclectic theory, 560 EcolOgical factors as predictive of social disorganization, 67 EcolOgical nature of illegal acts, 599--601 EcolOgical perspective, 63, 108 Economic disasters, 136-37 EconOmic materialism, 138 Economic progress, 138
739
Economics and prostitution, 14, 15 Education compulsory, 502 mass, 502 Ego, 315 Egoistic suicide, 140, 141 Eighteenth Amendment, 450, 459 repeal of, 459-60 Electronic erotica, social meaning of, 3,53--55 Elite crime, 687-88 Embeddedness, 357 Embezzling, 234 Engrossment,316 Equity Funding Case, 216 Ethics. See Situational ethics Ethnic groups, 178 in rackets, 186 Eufunctions, 3, 33 of initiation ceremonies, 34 Euicide, egoistic, 140 Evil dramatization of, 380-84 exclusion of, 577-79 Expert control, domination of, 574-75 Extant studies, relation of routine activity approach to, 601-5 External containment, 307 assessment of, 309
F Family activities of, and crime rates, 607-11 as complementary to prostitution, 2 and delinquency, 340-41 role of, 165-66 Fears, anticipatory, 388 Female offender, 677-78 Feminism, 561-62 liberal,674--75 radical, 675,679--80 socialist, 675, 679, 684 Feminist criminology, 673--701 methods in, 676-77
740
Subject Index
Subject Index
theory in, 673-701 Flexibility, 255
Focus on consequences of identifying a person as deviant, 375-76 Folkways,71 Forgery, 314 Fraternities, 299 Friendship clique, 258 Functional equivalents, doctrine of, 39 Functionalism, 1-62, 233, 449, 453, 517 as ahlstorical, 3 crime rn, 4-8 and deviance, 22-30 and new criminology, 521-22 problems presented by, 35-36 prostitution in, 9-22 shortcomings of, 33-34 and sodal problems, 30-42 strength of, 35
G Gangs, 34, 258, 381-82, 383-84 Hell's Angels as, 481, 482 street, 482
Ganser syndrome, 404 Gender class structure of, 656-72 and justice processing, 680-85 Generalizations, abstract, 275 Generalized other, 246 Genetic anomalies, 566-67 Genetic counseling, 566-67, 567 Genetics, human, 566-67 Genetic screening, 566-67 Government, 138
H Habits, 72 Hallucinations, 401 Hedonism, 648 Hell's Angels, 481, 482 Higher loyalties, appeal to, 299-300 Hobohemias, 73, 190 Hobos as retreatists, 190 TJ _ _ !""!...l_
...l ___ ! _ ! __ l! __ I.! ___ C
t:"~"
Homosexuality, 391, 393-94, 394-95, 421-22,473 rationalization of, 396, 425
Household activity ratio, relationship to crime rates, 616-21 Human activity patterns related property trends relation to,
613-14
trends rn, 611-13 Human ecological theory, 598-99 Human genetics, 566-67 Human nature, 132 antisocial character of, 305 and social order, 344 Human sexuality, 9 Hyperkinesis, 575, 576 Hysteria, 403
I Identification, 40,380 Ideological biases, 473 Illegal acts, ecological nature of, 599-601 illegal Arms Export Control Act, 539 illegal campaign contributions, 453 Illegitimate means, 174-91 concept of, 178-81 differentials in availability of, 181-87 Illegitimate opportunities, 129, 271-72 closing off, 203-5 opening up of, 203 Imaginative rehearsal, 410 Impersonation, 403 ImpulSiveness biological, 142 connection between crime and, 651 Incarceration, effects of, 422 Individual adaptation, types of, 150-64 Individualization of social problems, 576 sociopathic, 385-86 Individual life, functiOning of, 131-32 Individuals, reinforcement of role ______ .I.! ___ _ t
"00
on
Induction, analytic, 263 Industrialism, rise of, 487-88 Industrial societies anomie rn, 128 goals in, 176 Inequality, 490 Injury, denial of, 297 as technique of neutralization, 256-57 Inner containment, 303-4 assessments of, 310 Innovation, 129 and anomie, 151-58 Insanity as defense, 567 stereotype of, 406 Institute for Democracy, Education, and Assistance, 541 Institutionalization, 508 Institutional norms, patterns of, 143-49 Institutional violence, 490 Integrative theory, 560 Intellectual amnesia, 520 Intelligence, role of, in school failure, 305 Intended nonconformity, 390 Interaction, sequence of, leading to secondary deviation, 388-89 Interactional theory, 350 Interdependency, 706 Internal containment, 307 assessment of, 309 Internal control, 314 Internalization, 314 Introjection, 388 Involvement, 316-17 as barriers to delinquency, 346 and commitment, 321
J
Jews, 178 Jiro Crow laws, 418 Job stability and changes in adult crime, 353 Justice processing and gender, 680-85
741
Juvenile delinquency, 251-60, 472, 473. See also Delinquency early empiricaistudies of, 268-69 Juvenile drifters, 219-20 Juvenile protective associations, 74
K Knowledge, labeling theory and sociology of, 427-28
L LabelIng, 388, 473, 474, 478, 490 and career deviance, 390-97 and societal reaction, 415-30 and denial, 406-8 and deviance, 375--448 and dramatization of evil; 380-84 as interactionist approach; 473 of mental disorder, 397-411 as perspective, 517
and primary and secondary deviation, 385-90 shame of, 562 Labeling theory, 375, 449-50, 451-52, 453 criticisms of, 378-79 and primary and secondary deviation, 385-90 and sociology of knowledge, 427-28 Language patterns, 165 Lead poisoning, 482-83 Learning struchues, distinction between opportunity structures and, 180-81 Legitimate means, 129 differentials in availability of, 175-81 Legitimate opportunities closing off, 203 openIng up of, 202-3 Leviathan; 489-90 Liberal criminology, 518-19 Liberal feminism, 674-75 Liberal philosophy, 7-8 Life course, turning points in, 348-69
742
Subject Index
Subject Index
Loco-Focosim,456 Logical abstraction, 237-38, 263, 275 Loyalties, appeal to higher, as technique in neutralization, 258-<50,299-300
M Macrolevel analyses of crime trends and cycles, 602-3 Malintegrated societies, 177-78 Mania, 401 Marijuana use, 120-21, 421 Marital attachment and changes in adult crime, 353 Marriage, 11, 12 Marxian analysis, 121 Marxian criminology, 657 Marxian theory of deviance, 495-512 Marxist-feminists, 684-85 Marxist lheories of class structure under capitalism, 281-82 Mass education, 502 Master statuses, distinction between subordinate statuses and, 393 Means-ends schema, 205 Medellin cartel, 541--42 Medicaid, 582 Medical advice, 564 Medical col1aboration, 567-68 Medical decision rule, 577 Medical ideology, 568-69 Medicalization of deviance, 579-88 of social policy. 579-88 trends in,S8l-SS Medicalizing deviance and exclusion of evil, 577-79 potential for, 588-89 social consequences of, 569-77, 589-90 Medical social control, 575-76 of deviant behavior, 558-59 types of, 563-69 Medical technology, 565-67 Medicine as institution of social control,
moral neutrality of, 574 Mental disorders, 82, 397-411 analysis of functional, 377-78 social system model of, 398-411 Mental illness, 472, 476, 486, 498 and social pathology, 517 symptoms of, as residually deviant behavior, 399-400 Mental needs, distinction behveen physical needs and, 175 Michael and Adler Report, 520 .Microlevel assLUnptions of routine activity approach, 604-5 Middle range theory, 310-11 Militant deviants, 478 Ivlilitary-intelligence establishment in United States, 543 Mind block, 295 Modal conformity, 310 Monogamy, 11 Monopoly capital and deviance production, 505-6 Moral crusaders, 486-87 Moral discipline, 135 Moral entrepreneurs, 523 Moral fervor, 456 Moralism, 454 Moral neutrality of medicine, 574 Moral perfectionism, 455 Moral reform, 454-55 Mores, 71 Motion picture show, 72 Motivation to crime, 323-25 to delinquency, 323-25 Multiple-factor approach to crime, 262-63
N Name calling, 388 Narcotics and Vietnam War, 535-39 National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence (1969, xxxvii), 596-97 National Health Insurance (NHI) program, development of,
National Security Council (NSC), 539 Nativism, 458 Natural areas, depicted as circular zones,75-82 Natural selection, theory of, 1 Negroes, 170 membership in, 393 migration of, 72-73 status traits of, 392 Neo-Marxian measure of class, 663-65 Neutralization, 449. See also Differential association and neutralization and appeal to higher loyalties, 258-60 and beliefs, 318 of cheating behavior, 293-301 and condemnation of condemners, 258 and delinquency,318-19 and denial of injury, 256-57 and denial of responsibility, 255-56 techniques of, 251-60, 391 New criminology, 450-51, 452-53, 513-29 challenge to traditional perspectives, 514-15 and Chicago criminology, 519-21 critics of, 523-24 gradual development of, 513-14 meaning of crime in, 515-16 political nature of, 523-24 tasks of, 516-17 New England Federalism, 457 Newspaper, 72 Nicaraguan Contras, 540-43 Nonconformity, intended, 390 Normalization, 507-8 Normative conflict, 264, 265-66, 271, 275 Norms categorizing violations, 400 internalization of accepted, 304 as qualified guides for action, 254 violating, 314 Nurturance, absence of, and low self-
743
o Objective opportunity, 267 Offender perceptions, choice-structuring properties and, 640-43 Offenses, circumstances and location of,605 Official control, 504 On-line bulletin board systems, 1! '15 Operant conditioning, 270 Opportunity structures, distinction behNeenlearrtingstructur~
and,180-81 OppreSSion, 475, 490 Organized crime, 225-26, 508-9 "Other-directed" man, 460 Outer containment, assessments of, 310
p Pain,8 Parent-teachers' associations, 74 Pathological behavior, 89 Peer pressures, 295 Peers, attachment to, and develop~ ment of delinquent behavior, 305 Pentagon papers, publication of, 484 Persecution, 475, 490 Personality changes, traumatic experiences impact on,386 Physical needs, distinction between mental needs and, 175 PhYSicians, roles of, 567-68 Piracy, 453, 549-50 as state-organized crime, 531-35 Policeman, role and psychology of, 487-88 Political conflict, 519 Political deviants, 475 Political machine, 225-26 Political prisoners, 478 Politicians, relationship behveen racketeers and, 184 Politics and labeling, 522-24 Polygyny, 11 Populism, political defeat of, 459
744
Subject Index
Poverty, 38, 137, 452 and social pathology, 517 Power, 452 importance of, 473-74 in labeling people "deviant,"
485--B6 Power-control theory of delinquent behavior, 560-61, 656-72 Powerlessness, 490, 495 Power politics, 450 Predatory crime, 559, 703 Predatory violations, 597 Premarital chastity, 11 President's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice, 476, 483, 484 Pressures toward deviation, 187-88 "Prevert" deviants, 478, 479 Primary deviation, 385-90, 440-41 Prisoner rehabilitation, 478 PrisoTIS,26-27 subcultures of, 478 Problem behaviors, development of, and changes in, 498 Problem populations conversion into deviants, 502-4 creation of, 500-501 defining, SOD development of, and changes in, 498
generation of, 452, 502 level of organization of, 503 social characteristics of, 500 utility of, 503-4 Procedural rules, 464 Professional medical intervention, 564 Prohibition, 450 significance of, 459 Property trends, related relation to human activity patterns, 613-14 Prosperity, 176 Prostitution, 9-22, 38,472, 473,486 and capitalism, 14-16 commercial, 13-14
Subject Index
and demand, 17 and economics, 14, 15 family as complementary to, 2 motive for, 18 payment for, 16 pure, 13-14 regulation of, 13 religious, 11, 12-13 as safety value, 2 sanctified, 12 and sexual desire, 18 and sexual freedom, 18, 19 and social pathology, 517 in Soviet Russia, 16, 19 vitality of, 9 Protestant envy of sinner, 455 Protestant nativists, 450 Psychiatric formulation, deficiency in, 398 Psychiatry, sodal control functions of, 563, 564-65 Psychoactive drugs, 565, 575 Psychological reduclionism, 647 Psychopath, 313 as personality, 651 view of delinquent as, 346 Psychosurgery, 565-66, 575 Psychotechnologies, 565, 575 Psychotherapy, 564-65 Psychotic withdrawal, 189 Public condemnation and deviance, 375 Punishment, 381 for crime, 2 as retribution, 384 Pure prostitution, 13-14 Pyromania, 651
R Race, 393 and crime, 685--B7 Racism, 452 distinguishing between individual and institutional, 482 R.:lcketeers, relationship between politicians and, 184
ethnic groups in, 186 Radical feminism, 675 as critique of women victims,
679--B0 Rampant Reification, 488-89 Rape, decriminalization of, 516 Rate of deviance, 187-88 Rational choice theory, 559-60 and crime-control policy, 643-44 on crime displacement, 631-32 Rationalizations, 234-35, 244-48, 255, 380 and beliefs, 318 for homosexuality, 396, 425 and situational ethics, 293 Reaction formation, 271 Reagan doctrine, 539 Reality-principal,315 Rebellion, 129 and anomie, 162-64 Recidivism, 422-23 Recurrent social processes, 1 Rediscovery, 247 Reference group, 211 Reform, assimilative, 458 Regulatory norms, breakdovm of, 175-76 Reintegrative shaming, 379, 562, 702-13 Relative deprivation analysis, 211 Relative surplus-population, 505-6 Relativist pOSition, 375 Religion, 138 Religious motives, 456 Religious prostitution, 11, 12-13 ReligiOUS revivalism, 457 Reorganization, 69 Reproductive physiology, 10 Reputation, 380-81 Reserve potentialities, 386 Residual deviance origins, prevalence and course of, 40D-403 stabilization and uniformization of,408 Resource Conservation and Recovery
745
Responsibility denial of, as teclmique of neutralization, 255-56, 295, 296-97 dislocation of, 573-74 Retreatism, 129, 189-91 and anomie, 160-62 Retribution, punishment as, 384 Ritualism, 12~ 168 and anomie, 158-60 Robbery, decrirninallzation of, 516 Role conceptuals, reinforcement at by others reactions, 388-89 Role-playing as model, 403-4 voluntariness at 404 Role transitions, link between turning points and, 364 Routine activity approach, 559, 596-630 microlevel assumptions of, 604-5 relation of, to extant studies, 601-5 Routine activity model, 559 Rule-breaking, 415-17, 424-26, 428, 479-80 achieved, 417, 419-23, 429 ascriptive, 417-19, 429 Rule enforcement, 450 Rural-urban conflict, 455
S Sanctified prostitution, 12 SAVAK,545 Schizophrenia, 397, 403 Schlock SOciology, 488, 489-90 School failure, role of intelligence in, 305 Schooling, effect of, on crime rates, 651 Scientific analyses, 37 SDS, 478 Secondary deviance, 377, 385-90, 441-43 Second United Nations Congress on the Prevention of Crime and Treatment of Offenders, London,306
746
Subject Index
Selective determinism, 518 Self-control, 460 and alternative concepts, 331-33 causes of, 33&-40 and child-rearing, 340--41 elements of, 333-34 low, and criminality, 329-42 manifestations of low, 334-38 nature of, 332-33 reasons for low, 304 Self-definitions, 386 Self-fulfilling prophecy, 393 Self-justifying rationale, 396 Self-perception, 386 Self-realizations, 386 Self-selection, 355 distinguishing £rom cumulative con tinuity,352-55 Semantic dementia, 317 Sensitivity to needs of others, 304 Sex, institutional control of, 11 Sexism, 452 Sexual appetite, 13--14
Sexual conditioning, 10 Sexual desire and prostitution, 18 Sexual deviancy and computer, 47-53 Sexual freedom and prostitution, 18,19 Sexual institutions, functional relation behveen society and, 11 Sexualily, linking of, to bearing and rearing of children, 2 Sexual misconduct, 476 Sexual seduction, 206-7 Shaming, 562, 706-7, 708 Sibling pair, 258 Situational ethics, influence of, on cheating among college students, 292-301 Slums, 489 organization of illegitimate means in,184-85 Small-town morality, 472 Srnuggling, 453,543 arms, 539-43
Subject Index
Social arrangements and suicide, 127-28 Social behavior and computer, 55-56 Social bond, effectiveness of process, 344 Social bond theory, 305 Social capital and turning points, 356-59 Social change, 91-92, 489 and crime rate trends, 596-630 effects of, on social order in urban areas, 65, 74-82 and social disorganization, 65, 71-74 Social complexity and deviance, 64 Social conflict, 475 Social consequences of medicalizing deviance, 569-77 Social controls, 293, 403-6 impact of, on deviance, 303-4 medicine as institution of, 563-96 paradigm of, 203-4 Social control theories, 236, 272, 277, 343-47 age-graded informal, 349-52 and assumptions about human nahue and social order, 344 logical and empirical adequacy, 345-47 and logic and content of, 344 policy implications, 345 underdeveloped,329-30 Social Danvinism, 518 Social diagnosis, 86 Social disorganization, 63-126, 183, 233,243,276,44~472
community structure and drug use in, 66-67, 107-21 concept of, 64-65, 67-70 definition of, 65, 68 ecological factors as predictive of, 67 relationship between urbanism and, 65, 74-82 and social change, 65, 71-74 Social disorganization theory, 63-64
macro-level aspect of, 108-10 Social dynamite, 452, 504 Social ecology approach, 108-9 Social identity and deviance, 205-8 Socialist feminism, 675, 679, 684 Socialist utopian vision, 518 Socialization anticipatory, 205-6 effectiveness of process, 344 Social junk, 452, 504 Social leaming, 270-71 Socially structured opportunity, disjunction between cultural goals and, 177-78 Social order, and human nature, 344 Social pathology, 472, 517-19 perspective of, 453, 516-17 professional ideology of, 65-66, 83-106 Social pattern, study of, 1 Social policy, medicalization of, 579-88 Social problems, 472 branding of, 3 functionalist approach to, 30-42 individualization of, 576 social pathology approach to, 517-19 Social processes in creating stabilized residual deviance, 378 Social reality of crime, 462-71, 467-68 Social reconstruction, 69 Social redundance, 501 Social restraint, 142 Social science, problems of, 167 Social sensitivity, 425-26 Sodal structure, 276 and anomie, 142-74 variety as product of, 29 Social system model of mental disorder, 398-411 Sodetal reaction and career deviance, 415-30 Society, functional relation between sexual institutions and, 11 Sociopathic individuation, 385-86
-
-
~ ~
747
Soviet Russia, prostitution in, 16, 19 Spying on citizens, 453 State capitalism and new fonns of control, 506-9 State-dependence, 353, 354 State-organized crime, 453, 529-56 assassinations and murder as, 545-48 definition of, 530-31 exclusions, 530-31 piracy as, 531-35 smuggling as, 535-43 Stereotypes, 388, 477 of insanity, 406 Stigmatization, 562, 702,707, 708 Strain theory, 317, 318, 652-53 Stratification research, 320 Street gangs, 482 Structural differentiation, 274, 276 Stuttering, theories of, 387 Subcultural differentiation, 274 Subculture, 456 criminal, 707 prisons, 478 tradition of, 181-87 Subordinate statuses, distinction between master statuses and, 393 Success, 172-73 SuHering, 490 Suicides, 140, 314,635 anonUc, 131-41,140 egoistic, 140, 141 and social arrangements, 127-28 types of, 140 Superego, 315 Surplus-population, 501-2 5115tO,408 Symbolic interaction, 270 Symptoms, distinction between cause and, 41 Systematic causation, 245
T Technology and deviant behavior, 42-44 Temperance movement, 450, 454-62 -. - - - --- --
748
Subject Index
Terrorist activities, 453 Theft,476 Thirst, inextinguishable, 128 Tolerance, 474 Training, absence of, and low selfcontrol, 338 Transition, zone in, 75 Traumatic experiences, impact on personality changes, 386 Trust, violation of, 244-48 Turning points and developmental change, 366 link between role transitions and, 364 social capital and, 356-59
U Unattainable aspirations, 128 Unchastity, 12 Unconventional sentimentality, 487 Underdeveloped social control theories,329-30 Ulliform Crime Report (FBI), 597 Urban areas, effects of social change on social order, 65, 74-82 Urbanism, relationship betw-een social disorganization and, 65, 74-82 Urbanization, 489 Urban renewal, 489 Utilitarianism, 648 Utopianism, 454
V Values, criminal, 185 Value system, idea of common, 319 Variety as product of sodalstructure,
29 Verbalization, 318 Victim, denial of, 297-98 as technique of neutralization, 257 Victimization, 475, 504 Vietnam War, 477 and narcotics, 535-39 Violence, 476, 481-83
W War, 452 Welfare-state capitalism, 452 White-collar crimes, 213, 220, 225, 47~481,483-84,520
White-collar delinquency, 660 Wue exchange, 11, 12 Women of color, 676 Women victims, radical feminist critique of, 679-80 Working-class subcultural delinquency,271
y Young Men's Christian Association settlements, 74
Z Zone in transition, 75
~, THEORIES OF DEVIANCE Fifth Edition Edited by John Beasley Production. supervision by Kiln Vander Steen DeSigned by Lucy Lesiak DeSign, Park Ridge, lllinois Compo~i.tion biPo~t ':Vest, ~c., :=ar;:~ Strean:, ~ois