how markets “think” about politics

As I write, US stocks are plunging. I have no idea what will be happening by the time you read this post. However, stepping back from the moment, what does it mean that Wall Street indexes rose after Trump won the 2024 election but fell last week? Or that Ukrainian government bond prices rose from October 2024 until last week and then fell rapidly?

One view is that markets have wisdom–or at least predictive value–because they aggregate information from many people. Investors think critically and rigorously because their money is on the line. The recent trends make sense on their face and confirm that markets are rational.

A different view is that capitalism involves a class struggle, and capital markets rise when the upper classes expect their interests to prevail. This model has no trouble explaining why business leaders, including registered Democrats, would tell Steven Rattner that they like Trump. They were not predicting prosperity for all but expecting to profit for themselves.

I would endorse a third model. Friedrich Hayek had a genuine insight: individuals have limited cognitive capacity and diverse motives. Therefore, individuals cannot reliably assess whole societies, let alone predict the future of anything large-scale. However, says Hayek, within our own domains of experience and expertise, we can reasonably predict specific prices. After a tough spring, farmers will expect the price of wheat to rise.

Prices allow us to plan efficiently. Many people do not seek to maximize wealth but to accomplish something else, such as holding onto a valued job or retiring soon. Nevertheless, the result of all their private planning is a market that is–in certain respects–efficient.

However, markets also create opportunities to profit by correctly predicting the large-scale situation. In turn, such predictions require assessing the present. For example, to guess how the US economy will fare over the next four years, it’s necessary to evaluate Donald Trump as a leader. One can buy bonds and other securities partly on the basis of such predictions. In this way, an accurate evaluation of Trump could pay off financially.

But Hayek’s defense of markets would not encourage us to trust the aggregate results of such thinking. Just because many people trade securities, it does not follow that their overall understanding of the present or their predictions for the society as a whole are reliable.

On the contrary, each participant in a market who tries to predict how a whole economy or country will perform is subject to the same cognitive limitations that–according to Hayek–beset us as voters and policymakers.

Markets do respond intelligibly to news. Wall Street indices fall every time Trump announces tariffs and rise whenever he seems to back off. But these changes are not predictive. In fact, we can easily predict market shifts as soon as we know what Trump says. The market adds little new information.

It’s true that putting money on the line gives an individual a motivation to think rigorously and critically. But motivations do not solve cognitive limitations. The businessmen who confided in Rattner said that they didn’t like “woke stuff” under Biden. Such feelings should not directly influence their market behavior under Trump. Nevertheless, their hostility to “woke stuff” could affect their stock trades by influencing their moods or by leading them to consume news and information that is tilted in favor of Trump. As cognitively limited creatures, we must rely on limited sources and a priori models–also known as ideologies.

In recent months, CEOs reported rising confidence in the economy, while consumers’ confidence slipped. A closer look at consumer confidence reveals that it fell by 28 points among Democrats but rose by 32.8 points among Republicans between January and February. So we can compare three changing predictions: those of corporate bosses, Democrats as consumers, and Republicans as consumers. Why do the Democrats diverge from the CEOs and the average Republicans?

  • The CEOs tend to have different values from the Democratic consumers. If everyone agreed that Trump’s tax policies will boost corporate profits but hurt the environment, CEOs would be more positive than representative Democrats.
  • The CEOs have different information from Democratic consumers. They are awash in data about their own balance sheets, plus business-oriented news. Democratic consumers are seeing negative assessments of Trump.
  • The CEO’s and the Democrats probably hold different mental models of such fundamental issues as the role of government and businesses in our society. Everyone holds such models, without which we cannot absorb new information.
  • Partisan identity is working as a powerful heuristic. Americans are using the party of the incumbent president to predict the economy. This may be unwise, but human beings must use heuristics, and a party label does convey relevant information if you combine it with a model of the society.
  • Some people act performatively. I would probably answer almost any survey question about Trump in a way that made him look bad, even if I didn’t completely believe the literal truth of my response. Some may even buy financial instruments to make a point–witness the popularity of Trump’s cryptocurrency.
  • Finally, the information that people absorb may reflect political agendas. Rupert Murdoch, Jeff Bezos, and other media barons want to affect public opinion, although their impact is uneven because news consumers are sorted ideologically.

This is not a simple model, but it does have a simple core. It is methodologically individualist, presuming that the decision-makers are human beings rather than classes or other abstractions. Regardless of their interests and social positions, these individuals are cognitively constrained and not primarily concerned with assessing the whole society. When they do make general assessments and predictions, these decisions reflect their mental models (which, in turn, often reflect their social positions), limited information, and concrete issues that are salient for them at the time. As a result, markets respond intelligibly to widely reported breaking news but have little predictive value.

See also: The truth in Hayek; making our models explicit; social education as learning to improve models; how intuitions relate to reasons: a social approach; etc.

features of effective boycotts

Classic boycotts have these features:

  1. A goal: What the boycott aims to achieve.
  2. A target: a decision-maker who is capable of doing something relevant to the goal.
  3. A demand: something that the target could agree to do.
  4. A cost: something that the target will lose if they don’t meet the demand.
  5. Negotiators: Individuals who can credibly agree to stop the boycott if the target complies sufficiently.
  6. A message: a description of the boycott that is aimed at relevant third-parties, such as observers who are undecided about the issue.
  7. Accountable leaders: people who decide on the previous six points and are answerable to those who actually boycott.

I am not posting this list to cast shade on the national boycott that took place on Feb. 28. I participated! And some of these components may have been in place. For example, people who boycotted through “Black churches with longstanding social justice ministries (like Trinity UCC in Chicago)” did have accountable leaders who articulated a message.

Also, it is possible that the seven features that made the Great Salt March and the Montgomery Bus Boycott succeed are not required in every successful action.

Nevertheless, we must think critically about strategy, or else we are less likely to win. I would recommend attention to the strategies that were so important to Gandhi and King.

A teaching case that I wrote for Johns Hopkins’ Agora Institute about the Montgomery Bus Boycott is available free here and can be used by voluntary groups as well as by students in courses. At its heart, it asks people to think about goals, targets, demands, methods, and decision-making processes.

See also: the current state of resistance, and what to do about it; strategizing for civil resistance in defense of democracy; building power for resisting authoritarianism; Rev. James Lawson, Jr on Revolutionary Nonviolence; three new cases for learning how to organize and make collective change; learning from Memphis, 1968; etc.

a generational call to rebuild

In January 2024, I wrote a post entitled “calling youth to government service.” I noted that many talented young people would vote to expand government, but few were interested in working in government. I posited both demand- and supply-side explanations. Young people do not know enough about public-sector employment, nor do they sufficiently value it. At the same time, the federal government has been very bad at recruitment and retention.

Now, as someone who advises many talented and idealistic undergraduates, I cannot encourage them to apply for federal jobs.

We don’t know how long “now” will last. Bad-case scenarios envision an extended period of crisis and the kind of kleptocratic authoritarianism that will keep federal (and some state) agencies from functioning appropriately for years.

Nevertheless, it is important to begin envisioning a rebuilding phase, even while we also strive to defend current institutions. The opportunity to rebuild could begin as soon as two years from now. At least, that is when presidential campaigns will launch, and one of their core messages could be rebuilding the government. Meanwhile, today’s college students and recent graduates can be obtaining further education or experience in local government or the private sector with an eye to joining the federal civil service in 2028.

Besides, having a positive vision can change the political situation in the present. Optimism is important for morale. We should be struggling to make change, not just to block threats.

Donald Trump and Elon Musk are already educating Americans about the value of the federal government. In the latest CNN poll, substantial majorities of Americans oppose “laying off large numbers of federal government workers,” “shutting down the agency that provides humanitarian aid in low-income countries,” and (by the widest margin) “blocking health agencies from communicating without approval from a Trump appointee.” Since foreign aid generally lacks public support, and the Trump/Musk layoffs have yet to affect many voters directly, I suspect that subsequent cuts will be even more unpopular.

Many of my recent predictions have been wrong. I thought that some of the Biden-era spending would be popular, and I thought that Musk’s layoffs at Twitter would break that platform. Nevertheless, I predict that mass federal layoffs will raise awareness of the value of the federal workforce. Meanwhile, the civil service already needs hundreds of thousands of new workers to replace retiring Baby Boomers, and Trump’s layoffs will create many additional vacancies.

Under these circumstances, how should the federal civil service be rebuilt? I would posit these principles:

1. We need an eloquent generational call. Today’s young people can reconstruct their government to address social and environmental challenges. This is their historical calling. Government service is an essential means to the ends that many of them care about, including saving the earth from climate change.

    2. The paradigm of service should be a full-time, professional career in the government. I am not against social entrepreneurship or temporary community service, but the civil service is much larger and more important. We do not need alternatives to government careers nearly as much as we need more and better positions within the civil service (federal, state, and local).

    3. The goal is not to return to 2024. The federal workforce had well-documented problems before Trump was inaugurated. Although we must tolerate some degree of sclerosis and waste in any large system–and although current federal workers deserve credit for much valuable work under difficult circumstances–there was already a need for change. Young people should be recruited to rejuvenate and reform federal systems, not just work in them.

    4. But any changes should be scrupulously legal. Rule of law is a fundamental value, and nowhere is it more important than in the executive branch, which monopolizes the legitimate use of violence in our society. The federal government can kill, imprison, monitor, or financially ruin people. Its every action must be governed by statutory law. This means that rejuvenating the federal civil service must proceed within the clear statutory authority of the president, unless new legislation passes. (And I am not expert enough on this topic to recommend legislation.)

    5. Federal agencies already do some work that I would label “civic”: collaborating with groups in civil society, convening citizens for important conversations, and educating (not propagandizing) the public. But they also (inevitably) play many roles that are bureaucratic, technocratic, and managerial. A rebuilding effort should emphasize the civic aspects of government, because these are valuable, they can appeal to younger people who are skeptical of bureaucracy, and they can reinforce the public legitimacy of the executive branch. If you want people to trust experts, give them opportunities to work with experts on common problems.

    The overall message should acknowledge the value of the institutions that we have built so far–and the service of our current and past public sector workers–while envisioning new and better ways of governing.

    See also: calling youth to government service and putting the civic back in civil service.

    was Weber wrong about bureaucracy?

    With the US civil service under attack, it’s worth revisiting classical ideas about bureaucracy. Max Weber begins his hugely influential discussion (Weber 1922/1968) with this paragraph:

    Experience tends universally to show that the purely bureaucratic type of administrative organization—that is, the monocratic variety of bureaucracy—is, from a purely technical point of view, capable of attaining the highest degree of efficiency and is in this sense formally the most rational known means of exercising authority over human beings. It is superior to any other form in precision, in stability, in the stringency of its discipline, and in its reliability. It thus makes possible a particularly high degree of calculability of results for the heads of the organization and for those acting in relation to it. It is finally superior both in intensive efficiency and in the scope of its operations, and is formally capable of application to all kinds of administrative tasks (223).

    Weber seems to have a kind of Darwinian model in mind. Given a soup of different kinds of organizational forms, the bureaucratic ones will prevail thanks to their superior efficiency. Socialism requires bureaucracy, and Weber even lists soviets (communist workers’ councils) as one of the bureaucracies of his time. He also interprets modern capitalism not as a system of market exchanges but as a space in which corporate bureaucracies grow. “Capitalism in its modern stages of development requires the bureaucracy” (p. 224). In fact, state agencies and corporations use convergent methods. Today, the same Microsoft Office tools can generate similar-looking Key Performance Indicators or org charts for a company, a nonprofit, or a state agency, because these organizations work very similarly.

    If you asked people to associate words with “bureaucracy,” I doubt that many would suggest “efficiency.” Quite the contrary: words like “bloat” and “waste” would come to mind. Few would worry that we are trapped in a world in which bureaucracies metastasize because they are so efficient. Their spread would be treated as a sign of declining efficiency and would be blamed on the self-interest of the bureaucrats.

    Was Weber right about the bureaucracy of Wilhelmine Germany but wrong to generalize, because bureaucracies tend to become inefficient? In that case, was he wrong to see their growth as inevitable? Or was he right about bureaucracies, and critics mistake bureaucratic systems as inefficient when they actually maximize outputs? Are many people undervaluing bureaucratic work as a calling, in Weber’s sense? Do people dislike the means that bureaucracies use, or resent their inevitable costs, or disagree about their ends? Are bureaucracies efficient for their own goals but not for the public good?

    Source: Max Weber, Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology, 1922. The translation of this section is by Talcott Parsons (Bedminster Press, 1968). See also in defense of institutions as “garbage cans”; radical change needs institutional innovation; what to do about the guy behind the desk

    strategies, policies, and skills

    I’m thinking about the differences among strategies, policies, and skills, mainly because the Tufts Civic Studies Major, which I direct, aims to teach all three. I assume that definitions of these concepts have been extensively discussed, but without consulting any literature, I’m inclined to categorize them as follows:

    • Skill: The ability to do something useful. A skill can be quite concrete (e.g., conducting an interview) or more abstract (leading a team). Developing a skill often involves imitation, practice, and perhaps a dose of theory. Typically, we attribute skills to individuals, although I suppose that a group can be skillful.
    • Policy: A choice that an institution makes that affects people and/or nature. Such a choice need not be conscious and deliberate. However, if something happens by necessity, I wouldn’t call it a policy. A policy is something that the institution could change by choosing otherwise. Therefore, policy-analysis is about identifying the choices available to institutions, predicting their consequences, and assessing which one is preferable.
    • Strategy: A planned sequence of actions by an individual or group that aims to accomplish some goal. A strategy that’s worthy of that name considers the opportunities, constraints, risks, and threats, including the possible reactions of other people and groups. A strategy can leave room for revision and improvisation, but it needs enough detail to inform action. Therefore, learning about strategy involves identifying possible courses of action and their likely impact and assessing which course is preferable.

    These categories relate and overlap in many ways. Policy analysis and strategic planning are skills. Good strategy involves the application of available skills. (For instance, the first part of a strategy might be to deploy skilled people to recruit members.) A strategy can aim to affect policy. A policy can be part of a larger strategy. Institutions may enact and implement policies to develop skills. And so on.

    Nevertheless, these concepts are sufficiently distinct that I hope that we offer each to our students.

    I would also note that skills, strategies, and policies can be good or bad. The difference depends on their ethics and their outcomes–both their means and ends. Therefore, normative analysis and argumentation must complement any education about skills, policy, and strategy.

    to restore trust in schools and media, engage people in civic life

    People are more likely to trust institutions if they are involved in diverse, participatory groups, because such participation gives them a feeling of agency, teaches them that compromise is necessary (it’s not a sign that leaders are corrupt), and encourages them to share and critically assess information.

    The 2020 American National Election Study (the most recent available wave) asked several items about civic participation, including this one: “During the past 12 months, have you worked with other people to deal with some issue facing your community?” It also asked several items about confidence in institutions, such as whether respondents agreed that “Much of what people hear in schools and the media are lies designed to keep people from learning the real truth about those in power.”

    When controlling for education, gender, race, and self-placement on a liberal-conservative scale, working with others is strongly related to not holding a hostile view of media and schools (see below). Conservatives are more likely to be hostile, but when ideology is included in this model along with civic participation, it is not significant. Apparently, people who work with others to address local issues are more likely to trust schools and media, irrespective of ideology.

    If I replace working with others with volunteering, the same pattern is evident: those who volunteer are less hostile. And if I replace hostility to schools and the media with positive impressions of Donald Trump as the dependent variable, the same general pattern recurs, with a fascinating twist. Self-placement on a left-right spectrum is unrelated to liking Donald Trump (standardized Beta = 0), but working with other citizens is related to disliking him (standardized Beta = .292, sig. <001).

    These are correlations, not proofs of causality. In truth, the causal arrow may point both ways. Trusting schools and media may encourage civic participation, as well as the reverse. I suppose that disliking Trump could encourage local volunteering. However, I see a strong theoretical basis (dating back to Alexis de Tocqueville) for the thesis that local engagement generates trust in democratic institutions.

    The question then becomes: how can we engage more people in local civic work? I address that topic in “What our nation needs is a broad-based, pro-democracy civic movement” (The Fulcrum, Nov. 25). (See also: the tide will turn; time to build; strategizing for civil resistance in defense of democracy etc.)

    The post to restore trust in schools and media, engage people in civic life appeared first on Peter Levine.

    complexity and nuance about public opinion

    Last Monday, I gave a talk at Colgate University. I claimed that if you read a lot of mainstream survey research, you’re likely to conclude that “people are stupid and they hate each other,” but this negative assessment reflects some bias. A student, Colgate senior Clementina Aboagye, told Maddie Koger of the Colgate Maroon-News:

    “I think it was important that we had someone like Peter Levine who comes from an institution like Tufts University to present us [with the idea] that as much as we may disagree with each other, we still have complexities in how we think — that it’s important we search for gray areas because politics isn’t so black and white,” Aboagye said. “Those gray areas are important for us to not only converse about, but also to give each other space to speak — even when we don’t agree, because we can’t always agree — and we live in a world where people’s experiences and access to things determine what kind of ways in which they think — that deserves consideration.”

    The very next day, a majority of American voters chose Donald Trump, concluding a campaign marked by polarized media, misinformation, hostility, and attacks (from one side) on basic liberal norms. Yet I still think there’s truth in the argument I offered at Colgate, which you could watch in full here.

    The previous week, I had given American University’s annual Lincoln Scholars Lecture on “What Should We Do? A Theory of Civic Life.” Although my topic was quite different, this talk also offered a more positive view of civic life than one would glean by focusing only on an ugly and dangerous national election. According to Ridha Riyani’s summary in the AU Eagle newspaper, I said,

    “We disagree because we care, and we need to do it better. …

    [Levine] ended with a call to action, reminding attendees that civic life extends beyond national politics and requires thoughtful collaboration. 

    “In conversation, we can move towards greater wisdom,” Levine said. “We communities are capable of changing the rules.”

    I would not argue now that all we need is to listen generously across differences and explore the complexity of other people’s views. We must also stand up against injustice. Confrontational nonviolent civil resistance was a major theme in my AU talk, and I have been preparing for a Trump victory for several years. Still, there remains a place for listening, bridge-building, and collaboration, and I strive to offer useful concepts and skills for those purposes.

    The post complexity and nuance about public opinion appeared first on Peter Levine.

    explaining a past election versus deciding what to do next

    The Internet is saturated with explanations of the 2024 election. Some of these “quick takes” are dispassionate, while others take the form: If only Harris had done what I know is right, she would have won.

    The challenge is epistemic: it’s virtually impossible to explain a single past event that involves many decision-makers (in this case, about 150 million of them).

    Explaining the decisions of a few powerful people is hard enough, but at least then we can use evidence about their individual values, goals, and personalities. For instance, we can investigate why Napoleon ordered the main assault at the Battle of Borodino in 1812. However, says Tolstoy,

    It was not Napoleon who directed the course of the battle, for none of his orders were executed and during the battle he did not know what was going on before him. So the way in which these people killed one another was not decided by Napoleon’s will but occurred independently of him, in accord with the will of hundreds of thousands of people who took part in the common action. It only seemed to Napoleon that it all took place by his will (War and Peace, 10:28)

    It’s easier to explain the pattern displayed in a large set of cases (inductive reasoning). John Burn-Murdoch observes that every incumbent government in the world that has faced an election in 2024 has suffered major setbacks. John Sides argues that inflation lowered Biden’s approval rating, and the incumbent’s approval predicts reelection.

    But these generalizations cannot explain the single event of the 2024 US presidential election. Generalizations inevitably involve variance, and 2024 is obviously anomalous. Should we even categorize Harris as the incumbent, when she was a vice president stepping in for a president and running against the previous president?

    We can also look at patterns within the population to try to explain why individuals voted. For instance, Michael Tesler assembles evidence that few American women vote from gender solidarity and race consistently trumps gender as an explanation of voting.

    This is a valid approach that will yield more precise insights once we have voter files and better survey analysis for 2024. But this method also has limitations for the purpose of explanation. As the (true) cliché reminds us, correlation is not causation. Besides, individuals vary in ways that are not captured in generic surveys. And we must distinguish carefully between two tasks: explaining why large numbers of people voted for each candidate, versus explaining the marginal change since 2020. Big blocs of the electorate vote predictably, yet much of the conversation is about changes at the margin. Our whole discussion would be different if Harris had won by 4 points instead of losing by less than one point, but either way, most people would have voted the same.

    To emphasize the last point: I strongly suspect that a male Democrat would have fared no better than Kamala Harris, or even possibly worse. One of many pieces of supportive evidence is the fact that people whose survey answers indicated sexism already tended strongly to oppose Joe Biden in 2020 (Spencer 2021). I doubt that sexism explains the marginal change between 2020 and 2024, yet that hardly makes sexism irrelevant, since it helps to explain the 2020 baseline. Whether you feel that sexism is at stake may reasonably reflect your own depth of concern about misogyny in our society; this is not simply a statistical question. Put another way, whether you explain the result in terms of sexism depends on whether you are trying to a) combat misogyny or b) win an election. The explanation is relative to its purpose.

    We might conclude that it is fruitless to make a model to explain any particular case. But that is exactly what we must do before we act. Even if there is no way to know now what would have happened had Harris acted differently, Harris and her team had to do something. In September, they needed a prospective model of the single case that confronted them: the election.

    In 1903, Charles Sanders Peirce coined the term “abduction” (or “abductive judgment”) for the logic that explains a single case. Abduction is a pragmatic necessity because we always act in specific circumstances. In my view, valid abduction never depends on a single claim. There is no way to test whether one premise caused a given outcome in a given case. Rather, a good abduction consists of many linked components: a whole model. And it is appropriate for the model to contain facts, values, and strategies.

    Thus, if you were Kamala Harris in September, you needed a coherent account of the current US electorate (facts), what you sought to achieve as a president (values), and how various messages and methods would affect the outcome (strategy). You had to guard against biases (believing facts because they confirmed your values), but you were entitled to bring your self into the analysis. For one thing, this was a model for how you should act, so it had to motivate you and your team and sound authentic coming from you.

    We cannot tell which parts of Harris’ implicit model were right or wrong–and it remains possible that her model was as good as it could have been. But what we need now is a model to guide our own next steps.

    Since I am not running for president, my model should not be designed for that purpose–although I might start armchair strategizing in 2026 or so. For now, I need a model that guides my actions as a concerned citizen during the Trump Administration. To a limited extent, my model might be guided by my retrospective assessment of the 2024 presidential campaign–but not by much. The main question, as always, is what should we do?


    Sources: Spencer, Bettina. “Impact of racism and sexism in the 2008–2020 US presidential elections.” Analyses of Social Issues and Public Policy 21.1 (2021): 175-188; Peirce, C.S. 1903. Lectures on Pragmatism, Lecture 1: Pragmatism: The Normative Sciences. See also: using a model to explain a single case; overestimating the impact of leaders; What Should We Do? A Theory of Civic Life

    The post explaining a past election versus deciding what to do next appeared first on Peter Levine.

    a garbage-can model of political ideologies

    Summary: This short essay explores four models for understanding political parties and ideologies:

    1. Each party has an ideology that represents positions that fall somewhere on the left-right spectrum;
    2. Each party represents a temperament or underlying principle, such as traditionalism or progress;
    3. Each party represents an interest-group coalition, such as the workers or business;
    4. Each ideology represents whatever its major associated political party stands for at the moment. In turn, per Cohen, March and Olsen (1972), any political party is a “collection of choices looking for problems, issues and feelings looking for decision situations in which they might be aired, solutions looking for issues to which they might be the answer, and decision makers looking for work.”

    I argue that the first three models don’t fit US politics by themselves, and the last one (a “garbage-can” model) has some validity.

    We are familiar with a model in which each political party promotes an ideology, and we can place the various parties’ ideologies on a spectrum to tell how far apart they are, where the median lies, and whether the right or left is more influential. When this model is applied to US politics empirically, the typical finding is that our parties have moved apart or “polarized.”

    Verlan Lewis (2021) has argued that most empirical measures of polarization do not inquire into the content of the left or right positions. They identify statistical clusters that they label as ideologies, but they do not tell us what the ideologies stand for. Closer inspection reveals that the meaning of the ideological labels has changed drastically over time.

    As Lewis notes, “in the 1960s, liberal MCs [Members of Congress] tended to vote against tax increases and in favor of tax cuts, while conservative MCs tended to vote just the opposite.” This statistical relationship was very strong. The words “liberal” and “conservative” later changed their meanings so that conservatives are now the tax-cutters.

    Lewis also illustrates his critique of the standard “static” model with the examples of three 20th-century senators: “‘Cotton’ Ed Smith (D-SC, 1909–1944), Henry ‘Scoop’ Jackson (D-WA, 1953–1983), and Ron Wyden (D-OR, 1996–present).” All three have the same ideological score–left of the median–on the influential DW-NOMINATE scale, yet “Smith was a racist demagogue who opposed the New Deal, Jackson was a ‘neoconservative’ who supported both the Great Society and the Vietnam War, and Wyden is a ‘progressive liberal’ who opposes racism, has sought to reform entitlement spending, and opposes militarism.”

    Lewis concludes, “As we can see, what it meant to be a ‘liberal’ MC in the 1930s was very different from what it meant to be a ‘liberal’ MC in the 1970s, and both are very different from what it means to be a ‘liberal’ MC today.” 

    We might try to detect some underlying values or dispositions that define ideologies over time. One candidate: conservatives want to preserve something or return to the past, whereas progressives want to move forward.

    I think that American progressives from 1932 until 1970 were, indeed, temperamentally oriented to change, while conservatives during that period wanted to hold onto traditions. Since then, however, I observe that progressives often want to preserve and conserve institutions that have become traditional (neighborhood public schools. welfare programs, unions) whereas conservatives from Reagan and Gingrich to G.W. Bush (not to mention Trump) embrace radical change. The temperamental orientation of the ideologies has switched.

    A third possible model assumes that parties change their positions–and even their temperaments–but they retain the same core interest groups over time. We might expect a given country to have a party for the workers and one for the bourgeoisie, with potentially a third for the peasants. Perhaps the US has only bourgeois parties, but Republicans rely on business-owners and professionals from suburbs and small towns in the North, while Democrats depend on farmers plus urban industrial workers.

    The problem with this third model is that the parties prove surprisingly likely to change their interest groups. Indeed, upscale professionals in northern suburbs are now at the heart of the Democratic coalition, while rural people in the South are core Republicans; and Northern industrial workers tilt to the GOP. Each of these groups has switched sides.

    Nor is this pattern unique to the USA. The UK Labour Party, formed to represent industrial workers, drew 38 percent of the most advantaged social stratum in the 2024 General Election, compared to the Tory’s 18 percent. Labour performed a little worse among semi-skilled and skilled laborers than among managerial and professional employees. In France, the supposedly left-wing New Popular Front performed worst among workers (ouvriers), and was the top choice of the managerial class (cadres). The German Social Democratic Party, formed in 1875 to represent workers, now performs better among white-collar workers with high education.

    if these models based on issues, temperaments, or interest groups fail, what model could work? I’d turn to Cohen, March and Olsen (1972), who posited that any “organization is a collection of choices looking for problems, issues and feelings looking for decision situations in which they might be aired, solutions looking for issues to which they might be the answer, and decision makers looking for work. … To understand processes within organizations, one can view a choice opportunity as a garbage can into which various kinds of problems and solutions are dumped by participants as they are generated” (Cohen, March & Olsen 1972).

    If this model applies to politics, then a given party is not a manifestation of any specific principles, nor an agent for a given demographic coalition. It is a space within which various actors can participate, yielding various outcomes over time. In turn, an ideology–at least in a regime like the USA–is mainly the name for that set of views that is currently held by one of the parties.

    In that case, it is not illogical if the word “liberal” comes to mean entirely different policy positions over time; that is the outcome of people dumping “various kinds of problems and solutions” into the garbage can of the Democratic Party, which then represents “liberalism.” (And the same for the GOP and conservatism.)

    In fact, I don’t think the garbage-can model quite works for US parties. They do retain some philosophical premises and portions of their coalitions over substantial periods, and to some extent, their changes in positions reflect changes in the external world. For example, the parties may have switched their positions on isolationism versus interventionism because the main perceived adversary was communism for 45 years–but not before or after that.

    Still, the first three models don’t fit by themselves, and the garbage-can model has some validity.


    Sources: Lewis, V. (2021). The problem of Donald Trump and the Static Spectrum Fallacy. Party Politics27(4), 605-618; Cohen, M. D., March, J. G., & Olsen, J. P. (1972). A garbage can model of organizational choice. Administrative science quarterly, 1-25. See also: Mapping Ideologies as Networks of Ideas; in defense of institutions as “garbage cans”; what if political parties structure our thinking for us?; UK election results by social classsocial class inversion in the 2022 US elections;  class inversion as an alternative to the polarization thesisclass inversion in France and what does the European Green surge mean?

    The post a garbage-can model of political ideologies appeared first on Peter Levine.

    what you need to know for collective action

    The graphic with this post shows the outline for “Introduction to Civic Studies,” which I am offering for 50 Tufts undergraduates this spring, and also for my 2022 book What Should We Do? A Theory of Civic Life (with an associated website).

    To trace one portion of the argument: There is not much point in asking what’s wrong with the world or how things should be unless you can also address the question: “What should we do?” And there is not much point in asking that question unless you are part of–or can form–a functioning “we” that is able to act collectively, assembling and deploying assets.

    Functioning groups require rules (broadly defined) as well as attitudes, such as trust.

    In order to create rules and trust, it is helpful to know how to:

    • Develop explicit models (simplified representations) of the social situation that can guide your action and that you can modify in the light of experience
    • Analyze institutions in terms of components, such as their biophysical circumstances, the choices that they create for participants, and their outcomes. You should be able to analyze institutions that you want to launch or sustain, so that these entities can persist and even grow. You may also need to analyze institutions that you oppose, to reveal their vulnerabilities.
    • Treat your own group as a common-pool resource: that is, as a good that benefits everyone involved but that can be used up or degraded. Common-pool resources are difficult to finance and sustain, yet some flourish. The ones that succeed usually employ wise principles. Therefore:
    • Apply design principles that enable successful collective action, such as establishing clear boundaries around the the group and its assets, developing efficient processes for resolving conflicts, and using light but graduated sanctions for members who violate the rules.
    • Preserve and expand social capital (otherwise known as “collective efficacy” or “community cohesion”): the social ties and interpersonal commitments that enable further action.
    • Practice skills that organize people (rather than simply mobilize them to take specific actions), such as one-to-one interviews and decision-making meetings.

    The second through fifth points come from the work of Elinor Ostrom, although you may decide to analyze institutions into different components from the ones she identified, or apply different design principles, if your experience yields different lessons.

    This is not all you need to know, because additional challenges arise when you face conflicting beliefs about good means and ends or when you encounter oppressive power. We will move onto those topics for the rest of the semester. But the list shown here is necessary.

    The post what you need to know for collective action appeared first on Peter Levine.