European Institute of Civic Studies, 2016

Summer Institutes of Civic Studies have been held annually at Tufts University since 2009. They are open to applicants from all countries, and the 2016 version will take place from June 13-23. In 2015, Tanja Kloubert, Karol Soltan, and I also organized a version of the Institute in Chernivtsi, Ukraine. Thanks to support from the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD), we will be able to repeat that European Institute in 2016. It is open to individuals from Ukraine, Belarus, Poland and Germany and will take place in Augsburg, Germany, from July, 25th to August 5th 2016 (at the Augsburg University).

What is the DAAD-supported Summer Institute of Civic Studies?
It is is an intensive, two-week, interdisciplinary seminar bringing together advanced graduate students, faculty, and practitioners from diverse fields of study

Who can apply?
Ukrainian scholars and practitioners are strongly encouraged to apply. We will also consider the applications from Germany, Belarus and Poland. We are especially interested in applicants who have a long term interest in developing the civic potential of Ukraine, and the region.

How to apply?
All application materials must be submitted in English. The application must include the following:

  • A cover letter telling us why you want to participate in the summer institute and what you would contribute (maximum 2 pages)
  • A curriculum vitae

All application materials can be sent as an email attachment in DOC or PDF format to tetyana.kloubert@phil.uni-augsburg.de.

Deadline: For best consideration apply by March 31, 2016.

Expenditures: The Summer Institute of Civic Studies is being funded by the DAAD (German Academic Exchange Service). Selected participants will be provided with travel costs, visa expenses, accommodation, meals and full event access.

Contact: For more information about the Summer Institute of Civic Studies please contact tetyana.kloubert@phil.uni-augsburg.de

citizens at work: how small groups address large-scale problems

(Orlando) I am on my way home from a meeting of the Florida Partnership for Civic Learning. I’d like to argue that it exemplifies citizens’ work. To be sure, it has a specific mission: improving civic education in Florida’s k-12 schools. And it enlists a specific kind of person: professionals in k12 schools, ed schools, and state agencies, all of whom participate in the effort as part of their jobs. It thus differs in significant ways from a group of miners forming a union or volunteers fixing a neighborhood park. (I can spot k12 teachers and ed-school professors from 500 yards away, due to some ineffable mix of demographics, fashion/accessories, and ways of navigating the physical world). Still, the essential features of this group would apply to different issues and different people.

Using the terms I summarize in this 10-minute video, groups of effective citizens seriously ask the question, “What should we do?” That question implies a deep consideration of values, of facts and constraints, and of strategies. The group not only discusses (deliberates), but also takes collective action (collaborates) and learns from the results of its own actions. Finally, it is attentive to relationships both within the group and with outsiders. It specifically promotes civic relationships, which imply certain values–such as mutual respect and accountability–without relying on personal friendships or financial ties. Because the fundamental question is “What we should do (about some large question)?” the group is satisfied neither with just doing something by itself that has limited effects nor with wishing or hoping that someone else acts. It finds leverage over larger systems.

Without going into details about the Florida Partnership or its current work, I would argue that it embodies all the key words in the previous paragraph. The question for the Partnership is “What should we do to improve civic learning for all Florida students?” The main value-questions include: “What is important for a citizen to learn and know?”, “What rights/obligations do schools have to educate citizens?” and “What constitutes just outcomes for the population of students across the state?” Participants discuss extensive factual information: 7th grade civics test scores for every student in the state, detailed survey data on students’ values and behaviors, and information on the effectiveness of various programs. At this particular meeting, we looked at regression models that predicted test scores, elaborate maps of schools that surpassed expectations, toplines from surveys, and qualitative reports from some of those schools. Participants spent time building relationships among themselves and with other actors. Finally, the group considered a whole range of strategies, from working with elementary reading organizations to changing course requirements in state colleges.

Nothing is perfect, but I think we did a good job of avoiding these classic pitfalls:

  1. Turning everything into a communications problem, a problem of “getting the word out.” In an era of constant marketing and propaganda, it seems to come as second nature to focus on “messaging.” But rarely is the main problem that lots of people believe the wrong things. And even when they do, communicating is challenging in a very crowded media environment. Smart groups communicate as they need to but don’t overemphasize its importance.
  2. Imagining phantom agents. It’s a constant temptation to imagine–or hope–that someone else will solve a problem. Someone else’s actions may indeed be essential. For instance, it may take the state legislature to improve civics. But then the question becomes: How can we influence the legislature? The “we” has to be concrete and real: an actual list of individuals who know what to do next. We are the ones we have been waiting for.
  3. Oscillating between the trivial and the utopian. I have often observed groups jump back and forth between the ends of a spectrum of practicality. At one moment, they will convince themselves that a given problem cannot be solved without changing the whole political/economic system. At another moment, they will talk about making one presentation at someone else’s small-scale meeting. To make a substantial difference, you have to find space between those extremes.
  4. Operating at only one level of power. According to the train of thinking inaugurated by Steven Lukes and John Gaventa in the 1970s, power operates at several levels. There is explicit power: the power to do something (such as require a statewide civics test or grade an individual kid). There is the power to set agendas. There is power over other people’s preferences and values. And there is power to affect who uses the other forms of power. Truly effective citizen groups think at all these levels.
  5. Losing the moral questions in data. We have civics test scores for every 7th grader in Florida, and my colleagues have analyzed those data in several illuminating ways (geospatially, demographically, even qualitatively). But it is fundamentally a moral question what to measure on a 7th grade civics test. It is also a moral question whether the state should test students, and what consequences should follow from success or failure on a test. Finally, given a distribution of real test scores, it is a moral question what to do next. Should you devote all your resources to serving the lowest-scorers? Raise the median? Reward the high-scorers? In an age of positivism, we tend to be better at analyzing the data than at reasoning about what the data imply morally. But good groups hold philosophically diverse and productive explicit discussions of the moral issues.
  6. Losing sight of either the short-term or the long-term. Really effective citizen groups achieve short-term victories with an eye to building momentum and winning longer-term victories later. The two mistakes to avoid are looking only for easy “wins” that don’t create momentum or working directly on long-term problems without having enough people or money to sustain the effort.

thinking like a citizen–about schools

In Education, Justice & Democracy, edited by Danielle S. Allen and Rob Reich, all the chapters address the topic of educational equality in the US. The section headings are “ideals,” “constraints,” and “strategies.” In a longish review essay for Theory & Research in Education, I argue that good citizens explore just these three issues whenever they consider any important topic. In fact, you might define good citizens as people who take  ideals, constraints (or, I would say, “facts”), and strategies seriously and act accordingly. However, the three issues are badly segregated in modern intellectual life, with whole disciplines given over to the assumption that one should seek value-free facts, other disciplines happy to explore values without thinking about strategies, and some professional programs focused on strategies with a narrow conception of ideals. What we call “Civic Studies” is a deliberate effort to reintegrate thinking about social concerns from a citizen’s perspective, which inevitably combines ideals, constrains, and strategies. I chose to review this volume because it exemplifies Civic Studies, although I offer some critical thoughts about parts of the book.

My review is in Theory and Research in Education, July 2015, vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 235-238, or on Academia.edu.

save the date for Frontiers of Democracy 2016

Please save the date for Frontiers of Democracy: June 23-25, 2016 at Tufts University’s downtown Boston campus.

Frontiers is an annual conference that draws scholars and practitioners who strive to understand and improve people’s engagement with government, with communities, and with each other. The format of Frontiers is highly interactive; most of the concurrent sessions are “learning exchanges” rather than presentations or panels. We welcome proposals for learning exchanges for 2016. Please use this form to submit ideas.

We aim to explore the circumstances of democracy today and a breadth of civic practices that include deliberative democracy, civil and human rights, social justice, community organizing and development, civic learning and political engagement, the role of higher education in democracy, Civic Studies, media reform and citizen media production, civic  technology, civic environmentalism, and common pool resource management. See more about past years here.

You can enter your information here to let us know that you are interested in attending and to ensure that you receive additional information about the agenda and registering for Frontiers.

All are welcome at Frontiers, a public conference that follows immediately after the Summer Institute of Civic Studies, a 2-week seminar for scholars, practitioners, and advanced graduate students. The Summer Institute requires an application, and admissions decisions are usually made in May. Prospective applicants should sign up here for more information.

a taxonomy of civic engagement measures

Civic engagement is important to measure both as an intrinsic good and as a predictor of various desirable outcomes for the individuals who engage and for their communities and governments. Organizations–from individual schools and nonprofits to the Census Bureau and Corporation for National & Community Service–often ask survey questions that measure it. But there are many available survey measures, and organizations often wonder which ones to use and how to cluster them. Here is a simple table that produces six categories, with sample survey items for each.

Citizens engage … with each other with institutions
by communicating
  • attending meetings
  • discussing public affairs
  • posting/reposting social media about public issues
  • reading/watching news
  • contacting officials
  • contacting media
  • protest/civil disobedience
by acting/working
  • working to fix a community problem
  • volunteering
  • doing one’s job with a public purpose*
  • voting
  • boycotting/buycotting
  • working in government (including AmeriCorps)*
  • social entrepreneurship*
by forming relationships
  • membership in groups
  • leadership roles in groups
  • trust in other people
  • service on boards and advisory committees
  • confidence in institutions

A few observations:

  • Deliberative democracy is the first row. Public work is the whole table.
  • With the exception of trust and confidence, these are measures of action, not of attitudes or knowledge. I include trust and confidence basically as proxies for actual working relationships, which would be ideally measured more directly. Attitudes and knowledge are also crucial, but they would require another table.
  • Asterisks denote constructs that are rarely measured and for which the items seem to be relatively weak.
  • I prefer survey measures of basic constructs that are relatively invariant across contexts. For instance, I don’t care whether people post on Facebook (which we may all stop doing in a few years, anyway), but I do care whether they communicate with fellow citizens about public issues. Likewise, I would count someone as doing public work whether it’s paid or not, so I am less interested in whether people spend hours volunteering than in whether they work on public issues. The challenge is that survey measures of abstract categories are hard to understand, but measures of highly concrete activities (like volunteering hours) tend to miss the point a bit. But we do our best with proxies.
  • One way to turn these separate items into larger wholes is psychometric–looking empirically at which clusters of items go together in a population, because clusters would ostensibly measure underlying psychological factors. I think that is valuable work but not the only way to proceed. These are not strictly psychological measures, manifesting the mental states of individuals. They have a lot to do with institutions and varying social needs. Further, we are not looking for individuals who approximate good citizenship as a psychological state. Rather, we are trying to improve democracy. That may require a division of labor in which, for instance, some people specialize in protest and have low confidence in institution, while others have high trust and volunteer a lot. What kinds of civic engagement we need is a social/political question, not a psychological one.

Does Twitter “smoosh” the public and private?

In The Atlantic, Robinson Meyer explains why Twitter seems not to be as fun or as socially satisfying as some other networks. He thinks it uncomfortably and unsuccessfully “smooshes” together aspects of oral communication (spontaneity, rapidity, and interactivity) with aspects of written communication (permanence, sharability, and the capacity to reach strangers). Meyer thinks that “the more visual social networks have stayed fun and vibrant even as the text-based ones have not. Vine, Pinterest, and Instagram don’t traffic in words, which can be reduced to identity-based magnum opi [that should actually be magna opera], but in images, which are a little harder to smoosh. Visual conversations have stayed chatty, in other words.”

Meyer’s theorists are Walter Ong and Bonnie Stewart, but there are also hints of Habermas in the article: Ong is quoted on the “human lifeworld,” and Meyer notes ways that the public and the private “get smooshed.”

A core Habermasian insight is that there are different norms appropriate to private and public speech.

In public, you must make arguments that can persuade strangers. You must therefore provide adequate reasons and explanations for everything you say. Since you can’t assume that strangers understand your assumptions and experiences, you must make them evident. You are accountable for your remarks and should be responsive to reasonable critiques. You should (generally) take the same positions when talking to different people. When Mitt Romney complained to donors about the 49% of Americans who were “takers,” but he didn’t want the 49% to hear him, he became one of many public figures who have been caught violating the norms of public speech.

In private, the norms are authenticity, spontaneity, and responsiveness to the concrete other people with whom you have relationships. You should (generally) say what you really feel in the moment, although you are also obligated to care about what the individual who hears you thinks and feels. That may require tact. You need not fully explain your thoughts, and your explanations certainly need not convey entire, self-sufficient arguments to strangers. You are not responsible for treating everyone alike. In fact, you are obligated to favor some people, the ones you love and who love you. You have a right to privacy, so if you are videotaped saying something that you wouldn’t want strangers to hear, that is a violation of your rights.

It is dangerous to confuse these domains, to “smoosh” the public with the private. Often, marketing and political propaganda consists of pretending to have an authentic private conversation while actually influencing strangers. Voters mistakenly choose candidates based on their impressions of politicians’ private lives, which are irrelevant at best and fictional at worst. Meanwhile, powerful people privatize the public sphere by making policy decisions on the basis of personal relationships and inventing spurious justifications or avoiding rationales entirely. Prying journalists and governments violate privacy. And sometimes ordinary people retreat from the public sphere and either take no positions at all or develop irresponsible positions on public matters because they can’t or won’t interact with strangers as if they were real decision-makers.

I am not sure, however, whether Twitter exemplifies the smooshing of public and private that worries Habermas. Twitter is a fairly flexible platform. You can use the 140 characters to address the public, although that will often require embedded links. Or you can use the 140 characters to keep your close friends informed about your social plans. You can develop a persona as a public person or as a private one. The two can be confused, and awkwardness can arise. For instance, as Meyer notes, disclaimers that “RTs do not constitute endorsements” are odd ways of distancing a Tweeter from the content. But it could be that Twitter is a useful vehicle for both public and private conversations, and the feeling of tension simply reflects the parlous condition of our public life, more broadly.

See also: Habermas illustrated by Twitterprotecting authentic human interactionfriendship and politicsOstrom plus Habermas is nearly all we need.

bottom-up struggles against corruption: a frontier of democracy

(En route to Storrs, CT) Corruption is no minor issue, nor is it mainly a concern for fastidious bourgeois reformers in rich countries. Consider, just for instance, that one quarter of India’s teachers are missing from school on any given day but are still being paid. Few investments in the world benefit human beings more than educating Indian children, yet a quarter of the available teacher/time is being lost because of that one form of corruption–not to mention  bribery in school construction, college admissions, and hiring, from primary schools to graduate programs.

In countries like Ukraine, which I visited briefly this summer, corruption is a primary obstacle not only to economic development but also to fairness, good government, and reconciliation. And here in the United States, perfectly legal transactions–ones that politicians even brag about, such as collecting private money for judicial elections–easily meet my definition of “corrupt.”

It seems surprisingly hard to find trends in levels of corruption over time, so that we would be able to see which anti-corruption strategies are effective. Experimental programs are often evaluated, but even when they work, they are typically too small to make a difference at the scale of a nation. It is not clear that a true victory over corruption would come from assembling lots of specific programs, such as websites that disclose government contracts or increased pay for bureaucrats. By the way, a major reason for the lack of trendlines is the difficulty of measuring corruption even at a given moment–in part because corrupt acts are typically secret.

I start with the assumption that there are two basic categories of human problems: sometimes we want or value the wrong things; and sometimes, even though we want good things, we can’t get them because of the ways we interact. Corruption may involve both  categories.

Corruption is a problem of what we want or value to the extent that people do not distinguish properly between legitimate transactions and illegitimate ones, or between public and private interests. Following Zephyr Teachout, I think that the US Supreme Court’s decisions regarding lobbying reveal the degeneration of fundamental republican virtues in this country. In 1870, confronted with a situation involving a paid lobbyist for an economic interest, the Court assumed that his job must be “steeped in corruption” and “infamous” and proposed that if such “instances were numerous, open, and tolerated, they would be regarded as measuring the decay of the public morals and the degeneracy of the times.” The Court voided the lobbyist’s contract. By Citizens United v. FEC (2010), the Court was no longer able to detect any difference between a citizen speaking up in a republic and a donor pursuing an economic interest for money.

On the other hand, it has been possible to forge such distinctions. In 1621, Sir Francis Bacon was impeached for acts that had been widespread and unchallenged a few years earlier. Elizabethan judges had openly accepted payments from litigants, and ambassadors had received huge cash gifts from the monarchs of their host countries. Bacon was made a scapegoat and brought down by his political enemies. But it was also true that a new concept of public offices and of public versus private goods was emerging, and it ultimately served Britain well. That is an example of a positive shift in values.

More generally, corruption is a failure to value the commons: that which we own collectively or which is not owned at all. The commons is not an idea for leftists alone, for even radical libertarians view the government and the law as public property and the atmosphere and oceans as un-owned. Attitudes toward the commons vary, and I suspect that a valuable way to reduce corruption is to raise people’s sense of concern for the various commons around them.

But corruption also exemplifies a collective-action problem. If everyone else is paying bribes, you won’t make the system any better by refraining, but you may hurt yourself (or your children, or your employees). So even when everyone thinks that bribery is bad and the commons is precious, almost everyone may still pay bribes.

One type of solution to collective action problems is an external monitor/enforcer that protects the common interest. Singapore has “gone from being one of the more corrupt countries on the planet to one of the least.” Its success depends upon an authoritarian state that happens to be genuinely opposed to financial corruption. I wouldn’t want to generalize the Singapore example, for two reasons: an authoritarian solution denies people the right to govern themselves, and benign authoritarians are strikingly scarce. Most dictators who jail or shoot people for taking bribes are perfectly happy to accept bribes themselves. In fact, by investigating corruption, a state learns who is corrupt and can use selective prosecution or the threat of it to extract additional benefits. That temptation dooms almost all top-down solutions.

A different type of response to collective action problems is a movement from the bottom up. For instance, people can make mutual pledges not to give bribes and can hold each other accountable. They can also vote en masse for anti-corruption candidates. I am convinced that making government information transparent is valuable just to the degree that people organize themselves to use the data effectively and constructively; on its own, transparency accomplishes nothing.

Bottom-up efforts are difficult: it is always easy to cheat, to lose momentum, or to encounter disabling divisions within a popular movement. But I think that if popular movements are worth anything in the 21st century, they must take on corruption. And unless corruption is addressed from the bottom-up, it will continue to block social justice around the world.

qualms about Effective Altruism

Effective Altruism is a growing movement that will surely make some valuable contributions. But I have my doubts about its main direction.

This is a prominent summary from the Effective Altruism website:

If you are reading this, you are in an extraordinary position. 

It has never been more possible for you to have a meaningful, positive impact on a massive scale. With the rise of evidence-driven interventions, we each have an unprecedented opportunity to save lives and prevent unnecessary suffering.

Effective Altruism is a growing social movement that combines both the heart and the head: compassion guided by data and reason. It’s about dedicating a significant part of one’s life to improving the world and rigorously asking the question, “Of all the possible ways to make a difference, how can I make the greatest difference?”

Here is one interpretation of the movement: It is about guiding the allocation of discretionary assets (mainly, charitable contributions) to improve other people’s welfare, which is measured in utilitarian terms. Utilitarians disagree about the appropriate proxy measure of welfare (subjective happiness, preference-satisfaction, purchasing-power, Disability-Adjusted Life-Years, etc.), but Effective Altruists can sidestep that debate by focusing–appropriately–on the world’s poorest people, who score low on all those measures.

My objections to this version of Effective Altruism:

  1. Discretionary philanthropic decisions aren’t very consequential. Americans give about 2% of disposable income to charity. Our choices as voters, political activists, investors, and consumers are hugely more important than our decisions about where to give money.
  2. Effective Altruism seems to be about a donor affecting other people. (“How can I make the greatest difference [to them]?”) But in making unilateral decisions, even with the best intentions, I am exercising power over fellow human beings. I am deciding what counts as a good end for them and good means to that end. I am also influencing their longer-term capacity to make decisions themselves. I could help them with that–for instance, by subsidizing the education of young girls in poor countries, I might boost their voice and political agency. But I could also undermine their capacity for self-government while assisting them in an immediate, material way. For instance, I could build dependence and reduce autonomy. In Self Reliance, Emerson says about his own charity, “Though I confess with shame I sometimes succumb and give the dollar, it is a wicked dollar which by and by I shall have the manhood to withhold.” Emerson took the argument far further than I would, but there was truth in it.
  3. The definition of altruism seems to be that person A will try to improve the situation of persons B, C, and D without regard to A’s interests. But social improvement typically comes from people acting in their own interest, albeit effectively and wisely–with an eye to the longer term and a broad definition of interests. I am highly skeptical of any large-scale social strategy that relies upon altruism, especially since the only people in a position to be effectively altruistic at large scales are the ones with a lot of resources. At best, I doubt they have enough leverage. At worst, I don’t trust them to work in other people’s interests. Witness the arguments by some Effective Altruists that we ought to protect humanity against asteroid strikes. That sounds like a fun way for a tech. billionaire to allocate tax-deductible charitable contributions, but not exactly what the world’s poorest people would ask for.

An Effective Altruist can acknowledge all those criticisms and respond that the movement is not just about the allocation of discretionary philanthropic resources. If, for instance, the best way to improve lives is to enhance the political agency of poor girls in developing countries, that’s what the Effective Altruist should invest in. If a US citizen can do more good by supporting a given political campaign than by giving money overseas, then the former is the right choice. And if a donation would create a relation of dependency, the Effective Altruist can refrain from spending money that way.

In short, I have accused Effective Altruists of ignoring politics and power, but they can reply that their analysis should (or does) include just these issues.

My objections to that broader version of Effective Altruism:

  1. It doesn’t seem original in the way implied by its slogans: e.g., “It has never been more possible for you to have a meaningful, positive impact on a massive scale.” If questions of governance, politics, power, agency, and culture are also relevant, then we have been debating how to have a “positive impact” at large scales for two millennia. I believe that we know less about 21st century political-economic systems and how to change them than we knew about the issues that faced industrialized nation-states in 1950. For instance, there may be no more important question today than how to reduce endemic corruption without resorting to authoritarianism. I don’t believe there are any “evidence-driven interventions” for that problem.
  2. If power and agency matter, then decisions ought to be made by groups that include the poor as well as the rich, and that requires a different set of ideas and skills than the ones that Effective Altruism offers. I say that the right question is not “How can I make the greatest difference?” but “What should we do?” An Effective Altruist could reply that what I should do is always fundamental, because I have to decide what groups to join and how to interact within them. For instance, in a deliberation, what arguments should I personally offer–and to whom–and what responses should I find persuasive? I agree, to a point, that my choices are a primary concern for me. Yet Effective Altruism puts the focus on the wrong intellectual skills. It is all about means/ends rationality to guide individual choice: what are the consequences of my actions? If instead we ask, “What should we do?” then we need skills of listening, interpretation, diplomacy, responsible persuasion, and inspirational leadership.
  3. This version of Effective Altruism still seems vulnerable to the critique J.S. Mill leveled against the early British Utilitarians: it overlooks the cultivation of the inner life. The classical utilitarians had defined the goal of life as happiness and had argued that a society could maximize the happiness of its members by getting its laws right. Mill grew up in that milieu, as the son of a great classical utilitarian. As a young man, he became deeply depressed. He asked himself:

“Suppose that all your objects in life were realized; that all the changes in institutions and opinions which you are looking forward to, could be completely effected at this very instant: would this be a great joy and happiness to you?” And an irrepressible self-consciousness distinctly answered, “No!” At this my heart sank within me: the whole foundation on which my life was constructed fell down. All my happiness was to have been found in the continual pursuit of this end. The end had ceased to charm, and how could there ever again be any interest in the means? I seemed to have nothing left to live for.

I elaborate Mill’s point as follows: it seems to be necessary for human beings to be involved in making themselves happy or satisfied; no one can simply do that for us. Some people who know no physical pain and have plenty of money are nevertheless miserable to the point of suicide. Poor villagers who live under a repressive government can be happier than wealthy suburbanites who are well treated by the state. Even if the goal were to maximize everyone’s happiness, that couldn’t be accomplished by a world of individuals who were concerned only with others. They would also have to be responsible for themselves. Pure altruism or other-regardingness is not the ideal, because there would then be no one in a position to make each individual happier.

Mill’s ultimate response was to reemphasize the inner life. “The important change which my opinions at this time underwent, was that I, for the first time, gave its proper place, among the prime necessities of human well-being, to the internal culture of the individual. I ceased to attach almost exclusive importance to the ordering of outward circumstances.”

I suppose an Effective Altruist could deflect Mill’s critique by saying: “We don’t attach exclusive importance to outward circumstances; we just try to make other-regarding efforts more effective. As long as Americans give just 2% of disposable income to charity, they are hardly at risk of neglecting themselves. They can cultivate their internal cultures all they want. We just help them to spend that 2% better.” And I think that’s fine–as far as it goes. I am just not sure it offers any hope of addressing the problems that keep me up at night, such as:

  • Corruption (writ large), meaning the capture of public goods for private profit.
  • Massive collective-action problems, especially global warming.
  • Hatreds of various kinds: religious, racial, national.
  • Discouragement about democracy and the potential to improve the world from the bottom-up.
  • The global shift to oligarchy.
  • Authoritarianism, especially of the macho, xenophobic, militaristic variety that unites Putin and Trump as well as many others.

See also: qualms about Behavioral Economics; qualms about a bond market for philanthropy; and why is oligarchy everywhere?

unions, communities, and economic mobility

A new paper by Richard Freeman, Eunice Han, David Madland, and Brendan Duke, Bargaining for the American Dream: What Unions do for Mobility is getting a lot of attention. A key finding is that a parent’s union membership boosts the economic prospects of the children as they grow up and form their own households. The effects are large and especially pronounced for working-class union families.

That result deserves headlines, but I will focus on another significant finding, because it relates to civic engagement. Freeman and colleagues find that labor union membership boosts the economic mobility of all children in the community. They control for a range of relevant factors that might explain away this positive effect (for instance, the makeup of local industry and the progressivity of the tax code.) They find that labor unions have positive effects for non-members.

That finding contributes to a larger literature about the positive economic outcomes of various kinds of civic associations:

  • Freeman and colleagues build on the influential research by Chetty, Hendren, Kline, and Saez (2014). Chetty and colleagues found that the odds of moving up the socio-economic ranks are very strongly linked to the community where you grow up, and the main features of the community that matter are: having less residential segregation, less income inequality, better primary schools (measured by income-adjusted test scores and dropout rates), more family stability, and higher social capital. Their main measure of social capital is an index of “voter turnout rates, the fraction of people who return their census forms, and various measures of participation in community organizations.”
  • In our own work, we also found strong economic benefits from what we called “social cohesion” at the community level. We defined that as the degree to which residents socialize, communicate, and collaborate with one another. Separately, we looked at the number of nonprofit organization in a community. Both social cohesion and nonprofit density were strong predictors of economic success for communities, even after we adjusted for many other factors like those considered by Chetty et al and Freeman et al. Just as an example of our findings, “An employed individual in 2008 was twice as likely to become unemployed if he or she lived in a community with few nonprofit organizations (the bottom five percent in nonprofit density) rather than one with in the top five percent for nonprofit density, even if the two communities were otherwise similar.”

A union could be considered an example of social capital. (It is an organization of members.) However, Freeman and colleagues controlled for social capital and still found a strong effect for unions. Their method distinguished union membership from civic participation, and the result was a distinct advantage for unions. That raises two questions: 1) Why would civic participation in general have anything to do with economic outcomes at the community level? And 2) Is the case of unions special? For both questions, I would like to focus on the benefits to non-members, because belonging to a union, a church, or an NAACP chapter can have direct and easily explained value for the individuals who join.

Social cohesion, social capital, and nonprofit density (which are overlapping but not identical constructs) could have economic benefits because: active and organized citizens obtain better governance and better laws; they gain skills and values from participation that they also use to help others in their communities; the associations they form reduce community-level problems, such as crime; these associations spread information and raise knowledge; or these associations build norms of trust and collaboration that enable people to contribute to the economy. There is literature to support each of these mechanisms, but no way to be sure whether they contribute to the patterns we see here.

Unions could fit into any of these stories. For instance, unions seek legislation and they may teach members how to collaborate and trust one another. Unions could also be seen as a special case because they have collective bargaining power. Also, people typically join a union because the workplace is unionized, not because they go out looking for a union to join. A knitting club seems very different: highly voluntary, trust-driven, but lacking in explicit economic power. So there could be an economic explanation applicable to unions alone, e.g., by bargaining for higher wages in their own industry, they send positive ripples through the local job market.

Still, I wouldn’t differentiate too starkly between unions and other associations. It is always a bit misleading to see membership as pure individual choice. People join knitting clubs and soccer leagues because someone else has organized these groups (which is hard and skillful work) and has recruited members. So organizing and outreach are always fundamental.

In short, I would posit that all associations–including but not limited to unions–use a set of similar means to improve economic welfare and mobility in their communities. Some of their means run through the state–they obtain better governance–and some of them result from voluntary action apart from the state. Unions do have some special features that allow them to grow to large scale when conditions are favorable and that give them bargaining power. Although their special features are important, unions are also part of a larger story about organized civic life in the US.

See also The Legitimacy of Labor Unions (2001), and my posts on Why the Garden Club Couldn’t Save Youngstown; civic engagement and jobs; and unemployment and civic engagement: the video.

adding democracy to Robert Merton’s CUDOS norms for science

Civic Science is an emerging scholarly conversation, and today we held a discussion of it at Tufts. In my group, we agreed that scientists are not value-free but are indeed defined by certain values. We went back to the list of four values that Robert K. Merton identified in 1942. Per Wikipedia, those are:

  • Communalism all scientists should have equal access to scientific goods (intellectual property) and there should be a sense of common ownership in order to promote collective collaboration, secrecy is the opposite of this norm.
  • Universalism all scientists can contribute to science regardless of race, nationality, culture, or gender.
  • Disinterestedness according to which scientists are supposed to act for the benefit of a common scientific enterprise, rather than for personal gain.
  • Organized Skepticism Skepticism means that scientific claims must be exposed to critical scrutiny before being accepted.

These “CUDOS” norms emerge from the practices of actual scientists, yet they are  aspirational. In fact, they may be rarely honored in a given population of scientists, but they would still reflect the ideals of science. They thus provide tools for the critical assessment of actual science.

We proposed adding:

  • Openness: meaning not only openness to data and evidence, but to diverse perspectives and voices.
  • Democratic Engagement It’s not enough to decide that your scientific work is disinterested. You owe an argument to fellow citizens for why it actually is in the public interest. At the same time, you must influence public priorities. If, for instance, there is no funding for addressing a disease suffered by the world’s poor, that means that you cannot just go out and study it. But you can advocate for funding.
  • Service This goes beyond “the benefit of a common scientific enterprise” to encompass benefit to the world (human beings and other species)

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