ROTHMAN, J., ERLICH, J.L., TROPMAN, J.E.: Strategies of Community Intervention. F.E.Peacock Publisher, Itasca 2001 28 / Parameters of Intervention could not be encompassed comfortably by one practice orientation, and that it would be useful to think of different approaches that addressEd each of the three empirically distinct groupings represented by the studenta. I begun to stake out these three approaches conceptually, delineating a set of practice variables to be used to analyze variations among them. This was, perhaps, a risky departure from the prevailing casework mode, but, in time, clinical practice also broke from its solitary theoretical mold and began to include behavior modification, cognitive Üierapy, ecological practice, and other frameworks. Social action presented a special challenge. Professional fields are typically conservative and eschew any taint of militancy—and that was especially true in the wake of the conformity-drenched decade of the 1950s, when any connection widi radicalism was viewed with supreme suspicion. I needed lo create an intellectual framework that would legitimate social action as an academic activity as well as an area of practice on par with other forms, something that did not exist in professional schools at that time. I thought of the three approaches, or models, as ideal-types. They did not exist to a large extent in pristine, full-blown form in the real world, but were useful mental tools to help describe and analyze reality. Over time I have come to deem-phasize or soften the notion of "models," which gives greater importance and internal validity to the approaches than seems warranted, and to accent the overlap and intermixture among approaches. The next section of this discussion will sketch out the original approaches as ideal-type constructs, and will also make a cross-comparison of them against a set of twelve practice variables. The last section, which is more practical and die place where the analysis leads, will consider combined and variant patterns that serve to integrate the different modalities. Coins Mooes of Community Intervention THREE MODES OF INTERVENTION Planning has been defined as the act of deciding what to do about some community affair while, meanwhile, life is bringing it around to a firm conclusion. And a typical committee assigned to deal with the task is, of course, merely a form of human orgaru- ■ zation that takes hours lo produce minutes. These qutps express a widespread popular view of social intervention as it is commonly carried out. Here, we will try to conceive of disciplined human reckoning that plays tricks on the natural course of life and actually begets intended effects, in furtherance of community well-being. Differing and contrasting formulntions of community intervention currently exist, which has been a source of perplexity and discomfort for the struggling practitioner and teacher. Taylor and Roberts (1985) describe the fluid nature of theory development, stating that in this field, "eclecticism, pragmatism and practice wisdom of professionals foster a turbulence and diversity that makes categorization and model-building especially difficult tasks" (pp. 24—25). In the founding issue of the Journal of Community Practice, editor Marie Weil states: that in order to "reclaim and strengthen community practice, theoretical approaches, guiding values and practice strategies need to be articulated so that they are both clear and carefully connected ... a grounding ... in reality and theory should be part of that movement forward" (Weil, 1994, pp. xxvii). A special issue of The Journal on Conceptual Approaches to Community Intervention / Models of Practice was issued in 1996 (vol. 3, no. 3/4). Three important approaches to purposive community change can be discerned in contemporary American communities, both urban and rural, and internationally. We will refer to them as approaches or Modes A, B, and C, and they can be given the appellations respectively of locality development, social planning/policy, and social action. Within each mode there are several variations and distinct emphases, but in this initial discussion we will select out and treat one prominent form within the mode for purposes of analysis. The three basic Modes of acdon do not necessarily exhaust all possibilities, but they offer a serviceable framework for a broad inquiry. These strategies are general in nature and are applicable across professional fields and academic disciplines. However, the author's grounding in social work and sociology will give a particular slant or tinge to the discussion. In the presentation, community intervention is the general term used to cover the various forms of community level practice. "Community organizing" ordinarily implies social action and sometimes includes neighborhood work involving self-help strategies. But it excludes social planning/ policy development approaches. Community organization has traditionally been the inclusive nomenclature, but it often becomes confused with more narrowly focused radical community organizing. Community work is frequently used to convey a locality development outlook. On the other hand, social planning usually fails to embrace grassroots organizing efforts. Recognizing that there is no standard terminology, community intervention seems to be a convenient and useful overarching term to employ, although "community practice" has similar attributes and will be used occasionally as an alternative. Administration (or management) another form of social practice that tal place in the community within organi tional settings. It involves developing or nizations and keeping them runa through obtaining funding and oti resources, arranging staffing, establish and carrying out procedures, maintain: records, and similar activities. Orgi izationa constitute the vehicle throu which social goals are pursued and relev tasks are carried out Thus, they provide machinery for steering the endeavors of three modes of community interventior in addition to direct-service agencies an< wide spectrum of other programs in ■ community. Administration practice hai crucial bearing on the performance of organizations, but it exists in a differ-dimension than community interventi and will be treated independently and ap from this analysis. Made A, Locality Development. T. approach presupposes that commun change should be pursued through brc participation by a wide spectrum of peo; at the local community level in determini goals and taking civic action. Its protaty; form will be found in the literature of a si ment of the field commonly termed co munity development. As stated by an ea U.N. publication: "Community Dev opment can be tentatively defined as process designed to create conditions economic and social progress for the win community with its active participation a the fullest possible reliance on the comn nity's initiative" (United Nations, 1955). Locality development is a communi building endeavor with a strong empha on what Selznick (1992) terms the "mo commonwealth." He describes this words such as mutuality, identity, partici] tion, plurality, and autonomy. Local 30 / Parameters of Inten'ention , development fosters community building by promoting process goals: community competency (the ability to solve problems on a self-help basis) and social integration (harmonious interrelationships among different racial, ethnic, and social-class groups—indeed, among all people). Leadership is drawn from within, and direction and control are in the hands of local people (Dionne, 1998; Mattessich and Monsey, 1997; Minkler, 1997). It is a type of activity that has been initiated and sponsored by religious and service groups such as The Catholic Church and The American Friends Service Committee, and it reflects highly idealistic values. The style is humanistic and strongly people-oriented, with the aim of "helping people to help themselves." The process of educating participants and nurturing their personal development has high priority. "Enabling" techniques that are nondhrective in character and foster self-direction are emphasized. Many of die precepts of the feminist perspective on organizing overlap with the locality development approach, including stress on wide participation as well as concern for democratic procedure and educational goals—including consciousness-raising (Hyde, 1989; Naples, 1998; Halsetíi, 1993). The approach is also used, some would say misappropriated, by political and business leaders who espouse local initiative and privatization, relying on enterprise zones and like programs that essentially intend to scale back social programs for the poor that are carried out under governmental auspices. Some examples of locality development as conceived here include neighborhood work programs conducted by settlement houses and other community-based agencies; federal government programs such as Agricultural Extension and The National Service Corps; and village-level work in some overseas community development programs, including the Peace Corps and the Agency for International Development (AID). To these can be added community work in the fields of adult education and public health education, as well as self-help and informal helping network activities conducted through neighborhood councils, block clubs, consumer cooperatives, and civic associations (Burns and Taylor, 1998). Thinkers who contributed intellectual roots for locality development include John Dewey, Mary Foiled, Kurt Lewin, and Eduard Lindeman. Among professional writings that express and elaborate this mode are Blakely (1979); Chavis et al. (1993); Cnaan (1991); Henderson and Thomas (1987); Lappin (1985); Mayer (1984); Ross (1955). The terms "community development" and "locality development" have been used to identify the approach. The locality development nomenclature was employed in the original version of this analysis to convey this perspective on intervention in a precise way. Community development is a more polymorphic term, which sometimes connotes institutional and policy means to strengthen communities from above (Mier, 1993), or suggests industrial expansion through economic development (Bingham and Mier, 1993), Sometimes it has a national or international frame rather than an explicitly local one (Goetz and Clarke, 1993). Locality development will be the terminology of choice here, and when "community development" is used it will connote a Mode A strategy. "While locality development espouses highly respected ideals, it has been criticized for its performance record. Khin-duka, in the prior edition of this book, characterizes it as a "soft strategy" for achieving change. He indicates that its preoccupation with process can lead to endless Approaches to Community Inten'ention / 31 meetings that are frustrating for participants and conducive to a slow pace of progress. Khinduka further argues that concern with modifying attitudes and values may divert attention from important structural issues that need more direct engagement. Also, many projects draw their participation largely from racial and ethnic rninorities and the poor, when it is die attitudes of the affluent and well-placed that need rearranging. Embracing consensus as a basic modus operandi precludes arbitrary actions from occurring, but it puts those who stand to lose from needed reforms in a position to veto effective action. The heavy emphasis on the local community may be inappropriate at a time when the locality has lost much of its hold over people and patterns of life are influenced significantly by powerful national and regional forces. Khinduka admires locality development for playing a gentleman's game in the often sordid arena of community affairs, but he worries about whether it can win. Made B, Social Planning/Policy. This emphasizes a technical process of problem solving regarding substantive social problems, such as delinquency, housing, and mental health (Kettner, Monroney, and Marlin, 1999; Burch, 1996). This particular orientation to planning is data-driven and conceives of carefully calibrated change being rooted in social science thinking and empirical objectivity (unlike other existing forms of planning that are more political and emergent). The style is technocratic, and rationality is a dominant ideal. Community participation is not a core ingredient and may vary from much to little, depending on the problem and circumstances. The approach presupposes that change in a complex modern environment requires expert planners who, through the exercise of technical competencies— including the ability to gather and analyze quantitative data and to maneuver large bureaucratic organizations—are needed to improve social conditions. There is heavy reliance on needs assessment, decision analysis, Markov chains, evaluation research, delphi techniques, computer graphics, and a plethora of sophisticated statistical tools. The design of formal plans and policy frameworks is of central importance, as is their implementation in effective and cost-efficient ways. By and large, (lie concern here is with task goals: conceptualizing, selecting, establishing, arranging, and delivering goods and services to people who need them. In addition, fostering coordination among agencies, avoiding duplication, and filling gaps in services are important concerns in achieving service ends (Austin, 1997; Mandeli, 1999). Within the field of social work, educational programs in planning and policy typify the social planning/policy approach. It also finds expression in university departments of public administration, public health, urban affairs, city planning, and policy studies. It is practiced in numerous federal bureaus and departments, in United Ways and community welfare councils, and in city departments and voluntary agencies geared to planning for mental health, health, aging, housing, and child welfare. The National Association of Planning Councils has been formed to strengthen these local community planning efforts. Intellectual roots for tlie approach can be found in the .Üiinking of scholars such as Comte, Lasswell, Keynes, Herbert Simon, andJesse Sterner. Some professional writings diat reflect this mode include Gil (1976); Gilbert and Specht (1977); Kahn (1969); Lauffer (1981); Moroney (1991); Morris and Binstock (1966); and Tropman (1984). SI / parameters oj miervennon While this approach emphasizes rationality in an explicit and fonnal way, and leans on it to lend legitimation for recommended actions (often by way of voluminous and impressive reports), the other approaches (Modes A and C) also need to be firmly embedded in rationality. Developing a means to successfully achieve broad civic participation or carrying out a protest demonstration to place pressure on public officials each require a high level of strategic calculation, linking chosen means logically to intended ends, The rationality may not be as overt and public, but it is equally related to effective and professionally sound intervention. Planning and policy are grouped together in this discussion because both involve assembling and analyzing data to prescribe means for solving social problems. They overlap in some measure, but they also probably have distinct features. Frequently, in scholarly and practice writings, the two are treated as though they are mutually exclusive. Policy is often associated with higher social levels—with national and state, governmental structures, and the act of selecting goals and framing legislative or administrative standards rather than actually establishing programs and services. No clear basis exists for this compart-mentalization of policy functions. There is policy development at the local level as well as at higher echelons (Flynn, 1985). It is conducted under private auspices as well as under governmental sponsorship (Pierce, 1984). And it has implementation and monitoring functions in addition to the goal-setting aspect (Pressman and Wildavsky, 1984). Gilbert and Specht (1974) conceive of a "policy planner" and define policy as "a course or plan of action," thereby essentially blending the two. In this discussion we are addressing policy as professional practice rather than as a method for conducting an analysis to under stand social welfare programs (Tropman 1984; Jansson, 1984). Ironically, many plan ning and policy scholars write as though the other area does not exist, although upon examination these authors cover a great deal of similar ground. A divergence or different emphasis (areas of less overlap) lies in pol icy practice's concern with megagoals or quasi-philosophical frameworks that guide legislative enactment and program develop ment, while planning is interested to a greater degree in the details of program con struction and service delivery. In this discussion, "planning" will serve as a shorthand and convenient designation for the planning/policy approach. The data-driven form of planning and policy practice has a certain currency and appeal, with its coherent intellectual struc ture and ostensible ease of implementation Urban planning schools and policy studies programs place a great deal of emphasis on providing students with ever more com plex and elegant statistical procedures and computer modeling methods. This may be because these are readily available, can be manipulated easily in a technical sense and have an aura of mastery and complete ness that is missing in more political forms of planning; "Webber and Rittel (1973) state that the data-driven approach is flawed because it is based on the assumption that problems are easily definable, well-bounded, and respon sive to professional intervention. Instead they say, contemporary problems are "wicked" in nature—unique, intractable intermeshed with others, and situated in a constantly changing and turbulent social environment. Two important factors place constraints on the prototypical rationalistic mode. The Erst is the intensification of constituency politics, a contemporary development that nyiiiuuuiiců tu ^ummtmuy intervention / 33 makes planning highly contentious and interactive. Interest groups of various kinds feel they should have a say and have &---acquired a voice, and they place them-!S selves vigorously into the pluralistic process through which decisions are made. Many planners and policy professionals helieve that interests of various kinds rightfully should go into the defining of goals and setting the community agenda, because these are socially constructed phenomena and involve value choices that extend far beyond the purview of the expert or bureaucrat Another factor confounding prototypical rationalistic intervention is the impact of fiscal constraint There is public aversion to taxation and to governmental spending for social programs. Concrete economic conditions involving Industrial decline and recessionary trends also place objective limits on social program options. These public attitudes and economic strictures have shifted planning from an optimizing stance to what Herbert Simon refers to as "ßatisficlng." UlE dual effects of contentious community politics and a public leaning toward a "get by" level of social programming place into guestion the utility of elaborate, data-driven planning modalities, i Mode C, Social Action. This approach □resupposes the existence of an aggrieved ar disadvantaged segment of the population ihat needs to be organized in order to make iJemands on the larger community for hcreased resources or equal treatment Bobo, Kendall, and Max, 1996). The par-icular approach we are describing has a ipilitant orientation to advocacy with -lespect to goals and tactics (although not all \ advocacy is militant). It aims at making í íundaraental changes in the community, $ including the redistribution of power and g? resources and gaining access to decision f f making for marginal groups. Social action intervention seeks to change legislative mandates of political entities such as a city council, or the policies and practices of institutions such as a welfare department or housing authority. Practitioners in the social action arena generally aim to empower and benefit the poor, the disenfranchised, the oppressed. The style is highly adversarial, and social justice is a dominant ideal (Karp, 1998). Classically, stemming from the high point of social action in the 1960s, confrontational tactics have been emphasized, including use of demonstrations, picketing, strikes, marches, boycotts, teach-ins, civil disobedience, and other disruptive or attention-1 gaining moves. Disadvantaged and aggrieved groups frequently do not have at hand the funds, connections, and expertise available to others, and consequently they rely heavily on the resources of "people power," which has the potential to pressure and disrupt Training institutes sponsored by the Mid-West Academy and Industrial Areas Foundation have been established to equip low-power constituencies with the skills to impact higher circles of power. The social action approach has been used widely by AIDS activists, feminist organizing groups, gay and lesbian organizations, consumer and environmental protection organizations, civil rights and black power groups, and La Raza and victim rights groups. It has been embraced by Industrial Areas Foundation and ACORN (Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now) projects, labor unions, including the United Farm workers, and radical political action movements. Hunkers providing an intellectual foundation for this approach include Marx, Fourier, Bakunm, and Habermas and it was advanced in part by advocacy activities of Jane Addams and her Progressive Era allies. 34 / Parameters of Intervention Alinsky's Reveille far Radicals (1946) and Rules for Radicals (1972) have typified the orientation of the social action mode. Newer writings also reflect this orientation (Boyte and Riessman, 1986; Burghardt, 1987; Cloward and Piven, 1977; Delgado, 1986; Fisher, 1994; Freire, 1974; Kahn, 1992). In recent years, social action movements have expanded their strategy bent beyond the confrontational style, and "new wave" organizing now employs a wider range of adversarial tactics. Political and electoral maneuvers that are more fine tuned and diversified are being used in considerable measure. This is because the groups have' become more sophisticated over time, there is less public tolerance for disruptive methods, and power elites have become skillful in counteracting confrontations. Organizing has become less stridently ideological, and middle-class groups (and right-wing factions) have been drawn into campaigning on their own behalf or in joint actions. However, there is a great deal of fragmentation among groups engaged in social action. Advocacy has taken on a particularistic caste, with each aggrieved constituency advancing its own special goals and interests in a "politics of identity" (Byrd, 1999; Gitlin, 1996). Even among people of color, African-Americans, Hispanics, Asian-Americans, and Native Americans go their own ways, independently and often competitively. Thus, coalition building has become a central concern in social action, since groups are typically not strong enough to achieve significant results on their own. But these coalitions are fluid, shifting, and irregular; new configurations Iiave to be formed for different issues on a continuing basis—thus draining off energy that might be focused on external targets. Fragmentation is especially handicapping because of the growing concentration of political and economic power locally, nationally, and even globally (see the discussion by Fisher on Political Economy). Relatively weak local entities that are disunited find themselves contending with powerful extracornmunity entities that are functionally consolidated. Human service professionals have not been prominent in the social action area, but there has been continuing participation on a small-scale basis over the years. Major national organizations such as ACORN and the United Farm Workers Union have been headed by social workers. There are relevant professional groups, such as the Union of Radical Human Service Workers in Boston and the Bertha Capen Reynolds Society nationally, and there is also a specialized periodical, the Journal of Progressive Human Services. Modest salaries and the absence of professional perquisites are a deterrent to long-term involvement. But new graduates with an interest in basic social change are in a position to take this on as a communal responsibility for a limited time at the beginning of their career. The Nader organization's publication Good Works (Anzalone, 1985) and the "Community Jobs" newsletter list a multitude of positions and career opportunities. The richness of die experience, the chance to join hands with aspiring members of oppressed and dispossessed groups, and a sense of accomplishment in advancing a valued and meritorious cause can compensate for temporary material loss. Some professionals have and will continue to make this a lifetime commitment. A PERSPECTIVE ON DISTINCT PRACTICE APPROACHES Talcing an overview, this three-pronged orientation, as a broad cognitive mapping Approaches to Community Intewention / 35 device for community intervention, has a certain intuitive logic. Historically, several schools of social work have developed specialized programs for training according to the three modes. Thus, a community development program that was situated at the University of Missouri epitomized Mode A; the doctoral program in planning at Brandeis University, Mode B; and a social action program based at Syracuse University, Mode C. Morris and Binstock (1966), based on an empirical examination of community organizations, suggested a similar threefold division. Friedmann (1987) attaches different language to these same approaches— social learning, policy analysis and social mobilization, as does Lyon (1987)—self-help, technical assistance and conflict. The formulation has also provided an effective conceptual framework for a historical volume on community intervention (Betten and Austin, 1990). Empirical studies of the formulation lend general support Cnaan and Rothman (1986) found that a sample of community workers in Israel distinguish between these approaches in their perception of their work and in their practice activities. Several studies in progress have replicated the inquiry with apparently similar results in Sweden, Egypt, Japan, Chile, India, and several other countries. (In the original study, social action appeared to be a more complex phenomenon than the other interventions.) In a series of case studies in Canada, Wharf (1979) observed that locality development and social planning were distinctly discernable, but that social action, while evident, again was more diverse. (We will discuss this disparity in the next section, "The Interweaving of Intervention Approaches.") Practitioners - in Wharf's project found the framework particularly useful as an assessment tool, as did those in another Canadian study (Johnson, 1974). The studies also suggest the existence of variations and mixed configurations, winch is the subject of the next section. However, here, for analytical purposes, we view the three approaches as relatively "pure" expressions. The merit in this is suggested by Morris and Binstock (1966) when they refer to their own classification system: The categories are somewhat arbitrary, Far it is sometimes difficult to say that a particular experience fits one category but not another. For these reasoas it is particularly important to achieve as narrow a focus as possible in analyzing [intervention]: Otherwise a systematic treatment is virtually impossible (p. 15). Examining ideal-types, while recognizing they are to some degree artificial, has the particular benefit of allowing us to perceive practice variables and intervention components witíún the modes in explicit and crystallized form. This generates a wide range of distinct practice options, across intervention orientations, Uiat can be employed selectively and in combination. (This will be expanded upon subsequently.) PRACTICE VARIABLES AND COMMUNITY INTERVENTION APPROACHES In order to proceed with the analysis, we will specify a set of practice variables that help describe and compare each of the approaches when seen in ideal-type form. Each of the orientations makes assumptions about the nature of the community situation, goal categories of action, concepts of the general welfare, appropriate tactics, and so on. A set of twelve such variables will be treated in the passages that follow. The varinbles are based on the writer's long-term experience and review of the analyses of practice by others. They are assumed to be salient but by no means exhaustive. A 42 / Parameters of Intervention Locality Development. Intended beneficiaries are likely to be viewed as average citizens who possess considerable strengths that are not fully developed and who need the services of a practitioner to help them release and focus these inherent capabilities. The Biddies (1965) express this viewpoint as follows: I. Each person is valuable, und cnpable of growth toward greater social sensitivity and responsibility. d. Bach person has underdeveloped abilities in initiative, originality, and leadership. These qualities can be cultivated and strengthened (p. 60). Social Planning. The beneficiary group is more likely to bo thought of as consumers of services, thoso who will receive and utilize those programs and services that are the fruits of the social planning process— mental health treatment, public housing, health education, recreation, welfare benefits, and so forth. Weyers (1992) makes this clear in highlighting the provision of social services as a key objective of social planning. "According to this point of view the efficiency of the community's social functioning will depend on the quantity and quality of professional services rendered to the community, as well as the way in which the community's concrete needs ore provided for" (p. 132). In policy settings beneficiaries may be conceived as both consumers and constituents. Social Action. The intended beneficiaries are seen as aggrieved victims of "the system": of slum landlords, the medical establishment, government bureaucracies, racist institulions, patriarchal entities, and corporate polluters. Those on behalf of whom action is initiated are often characterized in "underdog" terms. 11. Conception of the Role of Intended Beneficiaries Locality Development. Beneficiaries are viewed as active participants in an interactional process with one another and with the practitioner. Considerable stress is placed on group discussion in the community as the medium through which learning and growth take place. Beneficiaries engage in an intensive group process of exploring their felt needs, determining desired goals, and talcing appropriate action. Social Planning. Beneficiaries are clients, consumers, or recipients of services. They are active In using services, not in the determination of policy or goals. Opportunities for members and consumers lo del ermine policy arc severely limited because they ore not usually organized for this purpose. .. the opportunity to control policy is short-lived because the coalition will foil apart, lacking sufficient iiicenüve to bind together the otherwise diverse constituent elements (Morris and Binslock, 1966, pp. 109-110}, Decisions, then, are made through die planner, often in collaboration with some community group—a board or commission, usually composed of business and professional elites, who are presumed to represent either the cornnwnity-at-large or the beat interests of those being served. The data-driven policy specialist is likely to be looking over his or her back through this process, realizing that' constituency interests and pressures could have an impact on policy enactment. Social Action. The benefiting group is likely to be thought of as an employer of the practitioner or constituents. In unions the membership ideally runs the organization. The Industrial Areas Foundation will Approaches to Community Intervention / 43 usually not enter a target area until the people diere have gained a controlling and independent voice in the funding of the organization. The concept of the organizer as an employee and servant of the people is stressed. Kahn (1982) holds that the "staff director of the organization, if there is one, should be directly accountable to the board and should be held accountable by the board" (p. 70). Those not in key decisionmaking roles may participate more sporadically in mass action and pressure group activities, such as marches or boycotts. 12. Uses of Empowerment Empowerment is a highly valued concept in contemporary thinking nrtd parlance (Colby, 1997). However, in some ways it seems lo be a buzzword that has to do more with creating a warm feeling than conveying a precise meaning. In the context of our discussion, each intervention approach values empowerment, but uses it in a different, sometimes contradictory, fashion. Locality Development. Empowerment signifies the gaining of community competence—the skills to make decisions that people can agree on and enact together. It also implies the development of a sense of personal mastery within residents, as individual growth in people is considered a component of community building and a goal of practice, Social Planning. With its reliance on facts and rationality, this approach tends to associate empowerment with information. Empowerment occurs when residents and consumers ore asked to inform planners about their needs and preferences, so that they can be incorporated into plan design. Such information may be obtained through community surveys, including focus group techniques and public hearings, or through analysis of data from agency service records. Tlirough this arrangement, consumers are afforded the right and means to have their views enter into the process by which decisions affecting them are made. Consumers are also empowered when information is provided to them about the various services that arc available and particularities about these services, so they become equipped to make the best decisions about what programs and services to use. Information plays an important part in the oUier approaches also, but is given special emphasis in data-driven planning intervention. Social Action. Empowerment means to acquire objective, material power—for residents to be an equal party in decisionmaking bodies such as agency boards or municipal commissions, or to have die political clout to directly affect decisions made by these bodies. Electoral campaigns are mounted to win seats on legislative units by representatives from the group, who will thereby have the authority to vote and engage in tangible trade-offs on the group's behalf. There is also attention to participants' personal sense of empowerment, because those individuals with a feeling of potency are more likely to lend themselves actively to the cause, and to contribute to (he number count necessary for "people power" tactics of social action. There is still another way that empowerment is viewed, emanating primarily from the conservative camp. Empowerment is equated with the elimination of governmental regulations and involvements, so Uittt citizens presumably gain the freedom to conduct their lives without restraint The popular slogan, "get the government off our backs," characterizes this way of looking at empowerment. It is reflected in the wnrlr nf 44 / Parameters af Intervention neoconservative planners and action groups on tlie radical right. Getting tlie government off the backs of some people at the same time removes protections and assistance given to other, disadvantaged, people and simultaneously disempowers them. USES OF A MULTIMODAL APPROACH This analysis puts us in a belter position now to describe what an ideal-type intervention mode would look like. For an ideal-type mode to be in operation it has to include, in well-developed form, a large proportion of the variables attached to that mode in Table 1.1 (within its column), and to exclude all or nearly all of ihe components peculiar to any other mode. This is a tough and rare standard to reach in the emergent, disorderly arena of community affairs. Modal tendencies are a more realistic prospect Süll, there are advantages to viewing intervention from the kind of multimodal perspective that has been presented. In the first place, it is important for practitioners who are grounded in a particular organizational situation to be aware of their moorings. This framework provides a means for assessing the strategic leanings in the practice context: What are the basic assumptions and preferred methods of action in the particular setling7 In this way, the practitioner is more likely to perform appropriately, consistent with die expectations of supervisors, colleagues, participants, and oilier relevant actors. Going beyond conformance to what exists, the practitioner may be in a position to create a form of action to deal with specific problems. Some rough rule-of-thumb guidelines can be posited. When populations are homogeneous or there is a willingness to exchange among various community subparts and interests, it would be useful to employ locality development. When problems are evident and agreed upon in the community and lend themselves to programmed solutions through the application of factual information, social planning/policy approaches would be a viable way to proceed. Finally, when subgroups ore hostile and interests are not reconcilable through usual discussion and negotiation methods, it may be functional to engage in social action. By assessing when one or another form of intervention is or is not appropriate, the practitioner takes an analytical, problem-solving stand and does not become the rigidtfled captive of a particular ideological or methodological approach (o practice. Consequently, practitioners should be attuned to the differential utility of each approach, particularly to die tactics used in each, and should acquire the knowledge and sldll that permit them to utilize these in disciplined and flexible fashion. We will be expanding on that theme in the next section. This discussion has focused on a comparison of practice variables by following Table 1.1 horizontally across the community intervention approaches. For a feel of how each intervention mode would be implemented using its own set of variables interactively in combination, the table should be examined vertically, down the columns. This highlights the particularity and coalescence of each of the approaches, but it also encapsulates them synthetically. The next section demonstrates why that is so. Before proceeding with the expanded treatment, it is useful to take a moment to clarify the domain of discourse and to indicate what is excluded. Any analysis carves its area of inquiry out of the infinite possibilities in the empirical world. The domain in this instance is the community Approaches to Community Intervention / 45 TABLE 1.1 Three Community In I erven tin n Approaches According iq Selected Practice Variables Made A {Locality Development) 1. Goal categories of commuttity q cti o n 2. Assumptions concerning community structure and problem conditions 3. Basic change strategy •t. Characteristic change tactics and lecliniques 5. Salien! practitioner rol ca 6. Medium of change 7. Orientation fowaid power structure^} Members or power structure as collnborators in n comma o venture Boundary deiinlllon Total geographic of the beneficiary community system 9. Assumptions regarding Interests nf community subparts ID. Conception of beneficiaries H. Conception of beueficinry role. Common Interests or reconcilable different:es Cltiz Participants In on interne t io aal problem-solving process Mode B (Sadni Piuoning/Pollcy) Mode C (Social Action) Community capacity and integration i self-help (process goals) Community eclipsed, anemic; lack of relationships and democratic prablem-salvlog capacities; static traditio o a! community Involving a broad cross section of people In determining and solving dieir own problems Consensus: communication amaog community groups and i uteres la; group discussion Ennbler- catalyst, coordinator; teacher a f problem-solving skills and ethical values Guiding small, task-oriented groops Problem solving with regard to substantive community problems (task goals) Substantive social problems, me o tni and physical health, housing, recreation, etc. Qadtering data about problems and making decisions on the most logical course of ucliun Consensus or conflict Fact gatherer and analyst, program Impleinenter, expediter Guiding formal organizations and treating data Power structure n d employers and sponsors Total community or community segment Interests reconcilable or in conflict Coosumera Consumers nr recipients Shifting of power re lad unships and resources; basic Instimdoonl change (task nr process goals) Aggrieved populations, social iajusticc, deprivation, inequality Crystallizing issues nnd mobilizing people to lake action against enemy targets Conflict confrontation, direct action, negotiation Activist advocate: agitátor, broker, negotiator, partisan Guiding mass organizations and political processes Power structure as external target of action: oppressors to be en creed or overturned Community segment CooOictiog interests which are not easily reconcilable, scarce resources Victims Employers, constituents, members 46 / Parameters of Inten'entian TABLE 1.1 (continued) . Tluee Community Intervention Approaches Accnrdlng id Selected Practice Variables Mode A (Locality Development) 12. Use of empowerment Building, the capacity of n community to malic col l obe r alive und Informed decision n; promoting reeling of peninnnl mastery by residents Mode B (Social Planning/Policy) Mode C (Social Action) Finding out from consumers about their needs for service; informing consumers of their service choices and, in particular, purposeful community erlange. This analysis is concerned with how such chnnge is brought about by people at the community level, rather than through societal currents or federal policies. In other words, the community is examined ns both the vehicle and the target of change. Further, die analysis is concerned with the domain of strategy, the broad interven-tive initiatives employed to create change. These entail general strategic options available to anyone, but the discussion emphasizes actions taken by professional change agents—who may be identified with any professional field or discipline. However, because of the author's background, the discussion is tinged by social work and sociological language and perspectives. There are other interesting nnd important areas of community intervention that do not fall within this domain, at least in terms of substantive coverage. Some of these include work with special populations (cultural or ethnic groups, and women), coalition building, interorganizalional coordination, metropolilanizntion, and so forth. Nor does the analysis attempt to provide a ubiquitous theoretical framework for all of macro practice. Any of these areas, and outers, ore wortliy of sustained theoretical development in their own right, and cumu- AchievinE objective power for beneficiary system—the right und menná to impact community decisions; promoting a feeling of mastery by participants ■a 1 FIGURE 1.1 Intervention Modes as Ideal-Types Approaches to Community Intervention / 47 FIGURE 1.2 . . Intervention Modes Shown Overlapping" m i m W0 i ltttively will provide a rich, expanding intellectual and conceptual base to inform community Intervention. The approach taken is at the level of middle-range theory. It does not try to develop a grand theory formulation that is highly abstract and comprehensively encompassing. In keeping with, a middle-range per spectSve, there is use of grounded theory Wt ,, .... __i___.1___l-n^,;nnnfrpnLmntli) iHt I' from these. »É^^P1651 explanations of compl Obviously, it would not be realistic ta J|p^ "while supporiing the effort to liami expect middle-range theory to carry lhoJfejf/1i Plated processes, he also alerted burden of embracing nil the dimensions of Jg^ Inders«- w„ „„.-------._ ■- ■ - ■ *^&-„ r^beheve ing the art of application of the strategic initiatives, or developing specialized addi-;m Honar constructs." t i >, The Interweaving of Intervention Approaches which involves the observing of real-world i|9 empirical patterns, identifying them, nam m* ing them, and constructing indicative ccg W^ ~\lzlt nilive categories to reflect them. Other |& ^jV k approaches to theoretical development jH^Uf This analysis has attempted to delineate could have started more deductively, with^^J^Uratlier distinct and coherent categories of concepts such as power structure or^Bg^^comrauiiity intervention practice. Alfred exchange theory, and built complex con *flj||§« fjorth Whitehead offered a rationale for structs concerning community intervention IJf^fjf I- Una The aim of science is to seek the sim- ex facts." But to harness com-us to the ifk jnulwBide. We may come to actually community intervention, and if it tried to||ř"fft!jeIlcVB tf»= original facts are simple accomplish that it would certainly become J||^^becausB our quest was to arrive at a simpli-unwieldy and incoherent Conversely, hov JK.J^pí construction. The French social critic unwieldy and incoherent uonversety, i u VW&*Z3U wHiHmicuon. ihe French social critic ering at the middle range, this constructMM? Ojiyrnond Aron once spoke of this as delire does not provide the level of detail deSired^^>$&fii9,(e-_iogical deUrium Thererorf:. by some: how community developers) should work with task groups, hov/ P1"* ners should use data, how social actionlfiis; j should organize demonstrations or fonn coalitions. These questions require cxercis Jgtqtte—logical delirium. Therefore, tWktehead went on to admonish: "Seek IJünphcity and distrust it" Following that %dictum we wiI* now reexamine the previ-^Óhs discussion, bringing to it the eye of the Social Planning, Up until now we have treated each community intervention approach as though it were a rather self-contained ideal-type. That conceptualization is depicted visually in Figure 1.1. Actually, intervention approaches overlap and are used in mixed form in practice (Rothmnn, 1999). Figure 1.2 reflects broadly the movement toward overlapping. Practice in any mode may require tactics that are salient in anoUier npproach. For example, neighborhood social actionists interested in aiding the homeless may find it necessary to draw up a social plan in order to obtain funding for desired service projects from DHHS (Modes C and B). Or social planners may decide that the most effective way of establishing a viable low-income housing project is to engage potential residents in deciding on the geographic layout and common facilities, and to organize a tenant action council to fight drug pushers (Modes B, A, and C). A more true-to-life depiction of the character of overlapping is in Figure 1.3. Here we see that the ideal-type modes have a limited scope of frequency and that mix- 70 / Parameters of Intervention sense, the American counterpart to the Marxist nnil historical schools of thought In Europe winch tried to apply the evolutionary process to social thinking. This intellectual base made possible, as it also expressed, the political reform movement from Theodore Roosevelt to Franklin Roosevelt.19 Liberalism. According to Lernet the credo of liberalism "has been progress, its mood optimist, its view of humtm nature rationalist and plastic; it has used human rights rather than property rights as its ends but has concentrated on social action as Its means."211 Despite its problems, he states, "liberalism has nevertheless emerged as a central expression of the American democratic faith."21 Liberal ideas have been important in building support among the privileged for the voice of the underclasses to be heard in the councils of government and for them to reap the benefits bestowed by government. Community Organization Institutions As we have stated, community organization activities during the period between the Civil War and World War I can be divided into two categories: the First are those which were carried on by individuals or institutions related to present-day social welfare activities. The charity organization societies, settlement houses, and urban leagues ate important examples. A second category of activities are those that were conducted by those with no direct connection to contemporary community organization programs but which have become areas of interest for community practitioners. Examples include the orgBtii- "txrner, op, ell,, pp. 722-723. '"Ibid.. p. 729. 3lIblu., p. 730. zation of political, racial, and other action groups. 37ie Charity Organization Society Anum-ber of factors noted above contributed to the emergence of charity organization societies in England in 1869 and, by 1873, in the United States.32 These societies initially came into existence to coordinate the work of the private agencies which provided for the needs of \ha poor. Soon, however, these societies began to offer direct relief and other services, as well as to coordinate the work of other agencies.23 Murphy summarized their program as follows: They established social service indexes or exchanges listing individuals or "cases" known to cooperating agencies. They evolved the "case conference," in which workers from different agencies interested In die same "cose" or the same family—workers from the settlement house, the relief-giving agencies, the child-placing agencies, the agencies established to protect children from cruelly, the visiting nurse association, and others—would meet to plan a constructive course of action in behalf of the "cose." In Eome instances, loo, the charity organization societies made broad studies of social and economic problems and recommended specific remedial measures.2,1 4! These social forces contributed to this V development in several ways. The move- -: ment of large populations into Ůi§ cities, as. :i well as the waves of immigration which met the manpower needs of growing indus- ■.; tries, led to many social problems assocl-..< ated with poverty, inadequate housing, S "Charles Loch Mownt, 77ie Charily Organization^ Society, 1S69-I913 (London: Methuon and Co.,"' 1961), pp. 15-21 and 94. :- uThe direct services which had significance for tlioií emergence of social casework will not be pursued ta:^ this paper. Only the community oraonlxultaB-antecedents will be noted. ' "Campbell G. Murphy, Community OrgnnkfltioA-E Practice (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1954), p- p:¥£ illness, and exploitation. Both humanitarian impulses and fear of what these people might do in desperation produced agencies directed to ameliorating conditions. In a sense, this was an effort to counter the more radical ideologies. Separate efforts also were made by groups associated vvitli different neighborhoods and ethnic and religious groups, and those with different problems. Difficulties which arose repeatedly were: (1) The same people were approached over and over again to provide resources for such agencies, and they began to look for ways to make charitable solicitations more efficient and less demanding an the few. (2) Duplication of aid was apparent, and those who offered it sought ways to avoid this nnd prevent the pauperization of the recipients which they believed was the inevitable result of indiscriminate relief. (3) Paid . functionaries arose'-who sought to rational-jzö these! activities, drawing their inspiration from the same wellsprings that fed a developing pragmatic philosophy. (4) The resources of some charitable societies were insufficient for the maintenance of required . services, prompting an incessant search for new sources of funds. During this period, leaders of charity organization societies harbored serious reservations about the wisdom of public activity on behalf of die poor. In general, they doubted government's ability to administer aid so that it would be rehabili- ' tative. Darwinian ideology and a hedonistic theory of motivation strongly influenced . then views on the matter. The Social ", Darwinians regarded relief as interference ;■■'..'. With tliě operation of natural law, and the '■y hedonists held that the only assurance of .:'U'- Worfc amoug the poorer classes was t-Xi^- icar of hunger and exposure. This was ^tempered somewhat by humanitarian fíSí'ť1^11'8^ T"5 cnarity organization societies A History of Community Organizing / 71 distinguished between the "worthy" and the "unworthy" poor and chose to aid the former who, for reasons beyond their control, were unable to support themselves and who, through the moral example of the societies' "friendly visitors," could be rescued from pauperization. The rest were relegated to die not-tOD-tender mercies of tlie public poor law authorities, never to be supported at a level.equal to tile lowest wages in the community so Üiat Üiey would constantly be goaded toward self-support. The functions of the charity organization societies were cooperative planning among charitable institutions for the amelioration or elimination of various social problems and the creation of new social agencies and the reform of old ones. Charity organization leaders were actively engaged in securing reforms in tenement housing codes, developing antituberculosis associations, obtaining legislation in support of juvenile court and probation work, establishing agencies and programs for the care of dependent children, cooperating with the police in programs for dealing with beggars and vagrants, and supporting legislation requiring absent fathers to support their children.35 Some of the most significant contributions of the charity organization societies to community organization were the development of community welfare planning organizations and of social survey techniques. One of the earliest and most important examples was that of the Pittsburgh organization. Writing in 1922, Frank Watson discussed the significance of the Pittsburgh survey: ■"For details on these activities see Frank D. Watson, Tise Charity Organization Movement in ike United States (New York "Hie. Mncmillau Co., 1922), pp. 293-323. 72 / Parameters of Intervention Few of Hie offspring of the charity orgnnization movement have had mate far-reaching consequences or given greater promise of the future Üinn the Pittsburgh Survey, the pioneer social survey in this country. Interpretation of hours, wages, housing, court procedure and all the rest, in terms af standards of living and the recognition that the basis forjudging of social conditions is the measure of life they nllow to (hose affected by Ihem, constitute the very essence of the developments that have since taken place in Hocial work.*6 Out of the Pittsburgh survey came a council of social agencies which took upon itself the responsibility for acting upon the recommendations of the survey and conducting additional studies and reforms. The Social Settlements.27 Settlements emerged fifteen years after charity organization societies. Samuel Bamett opened Toynbee Hail, one of the first settlements, in the slums of East London in 1884. Stanton 3fiIbld„ pp. 305-306. "This section tests heavily on Üie analysis of Allen F. Dnvis In Ills Spearheads for Reform: The 5octal S el tie nie als n n tl the Progressive Ma vemen t 1890-191<1 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967). Although Toynbee Holi is commonly referred lo as the First social settlement, It was opened, although only h alf-completed, on Christmas Eve of 1BB4 by two Oxford University students (sec Davis, p. 3). A. F. Young and E. T. Asliton, In their British Social Work in Hie Nineteenth Century (London: Routledge & Kcßan Paul, 1956) claimed that Oxford House wns opened in October lBBI, while Toynbee Hull was net opened until January 1QB5 Cn. 230). Thus Toynbee Hull was one of the first settlements to open Its doots. Although Oxford House was technically Üie first, Samuel Burnett, who fathered the settlement house movement in Great Grimm, was associated will] Toynbee Hall. This may account for the fact that a number of scholars erroneously regard Toynbee Hall as tlie first settlement house. See: Frank J. Bruno, Trends in Social Work (New York: Columbia University Press, 1948), p. 114; Arthur Hillman, "Settlements and Community Centers," tn Horry L. Lude (ed.), Encyclopedia of Social Work (New York: National Association of Social Workers, 1965), p. 690. The HudiotK thank David Gilbert fat bringing lids to our attention. Coit, who visited Toynbee Hall in 1886, established the University Settlement on the Lower East Side of New Yorklater that year. Although charity organization societies and social settlements were prompted by the same social conditions, their analyses of the problems created by industrialization and immigration were quite dissimilar, leading them to different objectives and programs. Bamett, an Anglican clergyman influenced by the Christian Socialists, and John Ruskin sought to bridge the gap between the social classes and restore human values to a society dominated by materialism. Cott, strongly affected by Felix Adler and the Society of Ethical Culture, believed that nothing short of a moral and intellectual renaissance in city life was required. This could best be approached, he believed, by bringing together people of all descriptions into joint efforts, breaking down tho barriers of interest, age, soctal class, political and religious affiliations.28 Rather than looking to individ- ,' ual character as the root cause of social prob- ' lems, settlement house leaders typically saw • environmental factors as responsible for the conditions they deplored. '-■ Thus, while the charity organization societies seemed more ideologically related to the Darwinian ideology, the settlement r appeared to draw more heavily upon the i liberal, or even the radical, ideologies of the day. The types of individuals who became -j involved in these two movements also were different. Charity organization leaders were persons closer to the upper classes in society and epitomized noblesse oblige. They i favored either reforming the poor or modifying the most adverse of their social cir- ': eumstances. Although exceptions on both sides can be cited, the settlement house «Stanton A. Colt, Neighborhood Guilds: An Ituinuwnt of Social Kafom, 2d ed. (London: Swan, Sommerschien and Co., 1BS2), pp. 7-16,46-51. A History of Community Organizing / 73 workers were a different breed. Typically well educated und drawn from the middle classes, they were frequently critics of the social order who identified with and shared the lives of the poor in some measure. Their writings usually lack the condescension so often found in those of the charity organization workers. Perhaps the most striking quality of the settlement program was its pragmatism. Unlike the charity organization societies, setdements had no predetermined scheme for solving the problems of society. In fact, they had no coherent analysis of the problems Üiey confronted. Instead, with a general concern about the impact of such phenomena as industrialization, urbanization, and immigration upon society, they searched for answers that would be both feasible and effective. Services wero a major theme In their activities. They organized kindergartens and: clubs for children, recreational programs, evening schools far adults, public baths, and art exhibitions.29 Social reform was, perhaps, the most basic and self-conscious thrust of the settlements. Services were often initiated aB experiments which, if successful, could serve as models for other institutions. Indeed, many of the programs demonstrated by the settlements were taken over by other agencies. The settlements' reform efforts went much beyond the organization of new or improved services. They included legislative campaigns at the local, state, and national levels. In the field of education, Contemporary group work also truces its origins to Ihese selüement activities. On the oilier hand, the "tttjar thrust of group work Is toward personal and inlctpcraoiial problems, and community organization, toward social conditions in a wider context. There Is Eome Indication, however, that group work may again h= emphasizing lis cnrüer social commitments. they worked for the development of vocational education and guidance in the public schools, as well as for the addition of school nurses, hot lunch programs, and education for the retarded and handicapped. They urged the creation of small neighborhood playgrounds, housing code improvements, reduction of congestion through city planning, and the transformation of public schools into neighborhood social centers. Although settlement workers could not agree on the value of immigration restrictions, they organized such groups as the Immigrant Protective League to ease the immigrant's adjustment to the new world. Settlement workers fought for laws to protect employed women and abolish child labor, and they helped organize the National Child Labor Committee and the National Women's Trade Union League. They wero often involved in municipal reform activities, both at the ward and the city-wide levels, and many contributed to die platform and organizational work of Hie Progressive party in 1912.3D One theme ran through both the service and reform efforts of die setdements—participation and democracy. Many of their service activities were designed to permit dialogue between working people and settlement residents. The residents involved themselves in the life of the community so that they might know what services were needed. They worked lo reduce the barriers that separated them from their neighbors, and the neighbors from one another. They invited labor leaders and radicals of then-day to use their facilities. 30A study indicates that, after his defeat in 1912, Roosevelt terminated ids relationship with social workers and returned to a more traditional Republicanism. See W. I. Trattner, "Theodore Roosevelt, Social Workers, and die Election of 1912: A Note," Mid-America 50, No. 1 (196B), pp. 64-69. 74 / Parameters of Intervention Finally, in everything they undertook, settlements tried to help their neighbors develop their potentialities to the fullest. There was great emphasis on education of all kinds. One of the major reasons for opposing child labor was its negative effects upon the development of children. Municipal reform was viewed, in part, as a process of helping communities gain the capacity to deal with their problems more effectively. The settlement idea spread rapidly. In 1891 there were six settlements in the United States; by 1910 the number had jumped to over four hundred. Most of them were located in the large industrial cities of the East and Midwest; there Were very few in the South or West. The Organization of Ethnic Minorities and Women. A variety of forms of organization among black Americans was tested during this period as black people coped with their shifting status in American life. One of the earliest of these forms was developed by a group of prominent black people in 1865 and led by Frederick Douglass and George T. Downing who were "charged" with the (juty to look after the best interests of the recently emancipated.31 Almost twenty-five years later, in 1883, a very different idnd of step was taken by the Louisville Convention of Colored Men which "concentrated on large issues of political, as distinct from partisan, rights, education, civil rights and economic problems."32 Five years later, the Colored Fanners Alliance and Cooperative Union came into existence. In 1890, the Afro-American League organized in another direction, emphasizing legal redress rather llFishc! and Queries, op. ciL. pp: 259-260. "Ibid., p. BOB. than politics.33 In 1890, blacks from twenty-one slates and the District of Columbia organized the Afro-American League of the United States. Issues which concerned this group included school funds, and legal and voting rights. In 1896, the National Association of Colored Women was formed. Crosscurrents, similnr to those which affect the organizations of black people today, were operative between the Civil War and World War I. On the one hand, many efforts were under the influence of Booker T. Washington, who sought an accommodation with white interests in order to maintain their support. In contrast, W E. B. DuBois epitomized an opposition to this approach in 1905 when he called for "a conference "to oppose firmly the present methods of strangling honest criticism.'"34 The Niagara movement grew out of Ulis meeting and by 1909 resulted in the formation of the National Association far the Advancement of Colored People. Such Bociol workers as Jane Addoms, Florence Kelly, and Lillian Wald assisted in these organizing efforts. The Committee on Urban Conditions among Negroes in New York City, later to become the National Urban League, was another organization in which social workers were involved during this period. Its first executive, George Edmund Haynes, "was on the faculty of Fisk University and particularly interested in training black social workers."33 As noted earlier, Mexican-Americans, as well as Native Americans, were confronted with efforts that took away their lands. One response to this trend was the development "Ibid., p, 312-"Ibid., p. 357. 3JIbld.,p.36t. A History of Community Organizing / 75 of small groups for protection and support. Some, f°r survival, became bandits. Organized protest, however, for Mexican-Americans began in agriculture or, as Howard stales, "The roots of the Chicano movement lie in the fields,"35 In 1903, for example, Mexican- and Japanese-American sugar beet workers struck in Ventura, California.37 In addition, throughout this period, but particularly from the 1880s on, many organizations carnB into existence whose function was, according to Alvarez, to preserve a Mexican-American way of life through "celebrations, social events, provision of facilities, information and communication networks."38 The function of such organizations was to preserve a blcultural and bilingual existence. Some examples include the Penitente Order in New Mexico in the 1880s and Mano Negra, also in New Mexico, in die 1890s.39 TheNativeAmericans during this period continued to have well-developed forms of tribal organization, partly as a heritage of their early struggles for survival against white encroachment However, the tribes were separated from one another geographically and structurally, thus often rendering them easy prey for governmental manipulation. Nevertheless, the militancy of the period in actual warfare, as well as persistent legal action, represents an impressive, though unsuccessful, effort to secure a greater measure of justice from American society. 3eHownrd, op. cit., p. 95. "Ibid. 3 Salvador Alvarez, "Menican-Americmi Community Organizatlonn,1' in Voices: Readings from EI Grlla, A Journal of Contemporary Mexican American Tlwught, 1967-1973, cd. Octavio Ignuria Roraano-V (Berkeley: Quinta Sol Publica lid as, 1971), pp. 205-214. "Ibid., p, 209. The early Chinese immigrants were organized into family or benevolent nssoci-ations, tongs, or business interests.11" For the Japanese, the Japanese Association for Issei (first-generation Japanese in the United States) had some similar functions. Tlius, for these Asian groups, a major function of community organizations during this period was mutual benefit and cultural participation. Hor example, people from the same ken, or Japanese slate, often cooperated in various ways, and this wns noticeable in particular trades. For example, Miyamoto writes Hint the first Japanese barber in Seatde waa from Yrnnnguchi-ken. After be became established, he helped la's Friends from the same ken witli training and money, so that, eventually, most of tbc Japanese barbers in Seotlle were from Yam n g u cbi-ken.1" During litis era, when associations existed or were created in many ethnic groups, organizations for the benefit of women also emerged. In 1868, S us tin B. Anthony was a leading organizer of a worldng women's association to fight economic discrimination against women. In addition, during the next decade unions of women worldng in a number of industries such as laundries and shoe factories were organized. By 1886, there were 113 women's assemblies in the Knights of Labor.4* Oilier organizations also were concerned about Ihe poor worldng conditions ''"Far n discussion of evolving forms aF ChlnesE-Americnn community organizations, sec Melfortl 5. Weiss, "Division and Unity: Saciu! Process in n Clüncse-Ainerican Community," in Asian Americans: Psychological Perspectives, ed. Stanley Sue and Nathaniel N. Wngner (Palo Alto: Science Sc Behavior Boata, 1573), pp. 26-1-273. 4lICiIano, Japanese Americans, op. ciL, p. 19. 41For details of these and other endeavors, see "A Century a! Struggle: American Women, 1820-1920," in Barbara Deckucd, 77ie Women's Movement; Political, Socioeconomic, and Psychological Issuns (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1975), pp. 2,y lowing characteristics: First, the efforts are community-based ■-,:& (lint is organized around communities of.1'^ interest or geography, not at the site ofpnv->i duction (the factory) or against the princW iiSi pal owners of capital as was the case of.^S most pre-1960s organizing (Offe, 1987). .->■; Second, the organizations ore transclnsa:; groupings of constituencies and cultural *!i identities such as blacks, ethnics, women,'-;* gay men, neighborhood residents, students,^' ecologists, and peace activists. Labor.!; becomes one, not the, constituency group;!*: Class becomes port of, not the, identity H (Brecher and Costello, 1990; Fisher, 199Z)i|| Tíiird, the ideological glue is a neopDp?'fcj|j ulist vision of democracy. The groups rejectii authoritarianism: in the state, leadership; parry, organization, and relationships:]! (Amin, 1990). Their organizational form iaifi most often sufficiently small, loose, ■and,£ open to be able to "tap local knowledge ond^ resources, to respond to problems rapidly] and creatively, and to maintain the fJexibltyj ity needed in changing circumstances.^jj (Durning, 1989, pp. 6-7). Some see con^f temporary social action as "nonideologt-H) cal," because the organizations dismiss-they old ideologies of capitalism, comrminäanií^ and nationalism and because they tend ta bé^ without a clear critique of the dominant sya-| tem. But others argue that ideological congruence is their essence. Their "neopop^ ulist" principles and beliefs are what mnk?i| them so important and filled with potentíáft (Dolton and Kuechler, 1990; Offe, 19B7|£] and Riessman, 1986; Fisher nnd IliOuig, 1988; Boyte, Booth, and Max, 1986). Ipr^Fourth, struggle over culture and social ííidenlity play a greater role in diese com- ^mtity-based efforts, especially when com- hared lo the workplace-based organizing of i Jie post, wliich focused more on economic gad political issues. "After the great work- cIqss parties surrendered their remnin- 'jjig sense of radical political purpose with Ijhe onset of the cold war," Bronner (1990, 161) writes, "new social movements ^emerged to reformulate the spirit of resis- r,iim.cs in broader cultural terms." Feminism. jjBInck Power. Sexual identity. Ethnic fjjjnlinflaUsni. 'Victim's rights. Of course, cul- and identity—grounded in historical jipcrience, values, social networks, and collective solidarity—have always been cntrnl to citizen social action (Gulraan, Í977). And, of course, identity and con- jjUtuency efforts include economic and political issues. But as class becomes (Increasingly fragmented in the postindus- gjHuI city and as the locus of workplace jlrganizing declines in significance, resis- bces that emerge increasingly do so at the ipmmunity level around cultural issues and děatity bases (Touraine, 1985; Fisher and tig, 1991). feFifth, strategies include elements of |]ocplity development self-help and empow- iient. An aim is building community capacity, especially in an era hostile to iqcinl change efforts and unwilling to sup- them. Some of the more effective ^fforts go beyond community capacity Sliding to target and make claims against public sector. They see the future of piamunity-based social action as interde- Jpndcnt with political and economic Manges outside their communities. They Tjfldčratnnd that the state is the entity poten- piy most responsible and vulnerable to jj-ltil action claims and constituencies (Piven and Clownrd, 1982; Fisher, 1992). But most contemporary community-based organizing seeks independence from tlie state rather than state power. As Midgloy (1986, p. 4) points out, central to die rationale of community participation "is a reaction against the centralization, bureaucratization, rigidity, and remoteness of the slate. The ideology of community participation is sustained by the belief that the power of the state has extended too far, diminishing the freedoms of ordinary people and their rights to control their own affairs." Community capacity building becomes a natural focus, reflecting anti-statist strategies and decentralization trends of the postindustrial political economy.1 'This argument of a common n civ s nelni movement form plays nut n bit differently in other parts of tile world. One key difference Is tlial Hie old social movements In the Tliird World (South) anil Second World (East) were nationalistic and communistic, respectively, not social democratic as in the West (Wallcrstcln, 1990). Given their subordinate position In tile world economy, lite old social movements—in the South, far example—did not I m v c die power (o deliver material security or political liberty. They often became arms of Western Imperial control. In response, community movements "musluoomcd" all □ver tlie South. Like counterparts In the West, they me community-boned, cousdtuency or identity oriented, neopnpulist in ideology, and focused an sell-líc]p strategics. But in the South, community movements put greater emphasis on material needs (Prank and Fuentes, 1990). Where old social movements achieved distributional victories only for n few, as in the south era hemisphere, or where such victories did not include significant minority segments, as in t!ie United States, new social movements slnigglc to acliieve a minimal standard of living and get baute services lliie bousing and healthcare. Where material victories have been won, primarily among the mote affluent in the United States and Western Europe, the social base teods to be the educated middle class (Mcrkl, 1987). But where basic material needs still lemain to be won in die Sooth and among the oppressed and disenfrancltlscd in the West, new social movement forms Include die poor and powerless and interweave stniggle over postmaterial and material objectives. 354 I Strategies HISTORICAL ANTECEDENTS: THE ROOTS OF IDEOLOGIES AND STRATEGIES One of the key causes for tins common form of social action organization is the common heritage of citizen resistance since the end of "World War E. It is this common heritage that continues to structure and inform contemporary efforts. For our purposes I emphasize five major historical roots; the (1) community-based resistance of Saul Alinsky, [2) liberation struggles of people of color, (3) urban decentralization and citizen participation programs, (4) new left movement, and (5) new social movements. Of course, this is not to suggest that the heritage of community resistance does not include efforts prior to 1945 (Fisher, 1984; Fisher, 1992). Nor is it to suggest that all contemporary community mobilization efforts build on each of these antecedents or that these are the only sources. Admittedly, roots are more numerous and entangled than here suggested, hut the following five are essential to contemporary community-based social action. Of course, basic survival concerns are Important even iti those groups in the West proteasing In hold to "pa s [materialist" values. Survival is tied lo ridding the world of nuclear weapons, toxic wastes, domestic violence, or AIDS, all of which cut across class lines. Relntedly, the politics oFidentity, concern Tor personal and political freedom, and the desire to belong tn a supportive and habitable community nre ofconccm to new social movement dibits worldwide. Democratic self-help—community empowerment—is their essence. Predictably, new social movements develop easily among the affluent and mound post material ist Issues. Out [hey succeed boiler ns agents al transformative social change when they combine both distributional and pnstmnierialisl objectives. Ihn distributional demands ground Identity in n class p oil tics that understands, nt least implicitly, the need in a posilndusirinl global economy to target tlie public sector and struggle for slitie power as well as develop democratic alternatives at the grass rants. (1) Community-Based Resistance of Snul Alinsky While the organizing projects of Saul Alinsky during his lifetime never amounted to much in terms of material victories nnd while his projects only took off when the southern civil rights movement sliifted to northern cities in the 1960s, the comnui-nity-bnsed, constituency-oriented, urban populist, confrontational politics developed by Alinsky in the United States provides one of the earliest models of the community-based social action form (Fisher and Kling, 1988). Beginning just before World War U, Alinsky's work in Clůcago built on the older, union-based models of social action, such as the Congress of Industrial Organizations and Communist Party United Stales of America (Horwitt, 1989; Fisher, 1984). From these it drew its labor organizing style, conflict strategies, direct-action politics, and idea of grounding organizing in the everyday lives and traditions of working people. But Alinsky's model added something new: n kind of labor organizing in the social factory (Boyte, 1981). The community organizer was the catalyst for change. The task was to build democratic, community-based organizations. The goal was to empower neighborhood residents by teaching tliem basic political and organizing skills and getting them or their representatives to the urhan bargaining table (Fisher, 1994; Boyte, 1981). Both the site of production (supporting labor demands) and the public sector (making City Hall more accountable) served as the primary targets of Alinsky organizing. This wob an insurgent consciousness of "urban populism," based in neighborhood "people's organizations," oriented lo building community power, discovering indigenous leaders, providing training in democratic participation, and proving that Social Action Community Organization I 355 ordinary people could challenge and beat City Hall (Boyte, 1986; BooÜi and Max, 1986; Swanstrom, 1985; Horwitt, 1989). At their weakest, Alinsky efforts sought to replace the political program and ideology of the old social action efforts with the skills of democratic grassroots participation, the abilities of professionally trained organizers, a faith in the democratic tendencies of working people to guide organizations toward progressive ends, and a reformist vision of grassroots pluralistic politics. At their best, however, Alinsky efforts continue to empower lower- and working-class, black and latino community residents and to demand expanded public sector accountability and public participation in on increasingly privatized political context (Fisher, 1994; Horwitt, 1989; Rogers, 199D;Delgado, 1986; Kalin, 1970). Alinsky may not he the "father of community organizing," but, especially in the United States, his work and die work of bis successors has been seminal to social action community organizing (Boyte, 1981). (2) Liberation Struggles of People of Color Much more significant in terms of impact ore the liberation struggles of people of color throughout the world since the 1950s. The civil rights movement in the United States and the national liheratian struggles in the southern hemisphere served as important models for a community-based, ethnic/ nationalist politics oriented to self-dctenriination und sharing the political liberties and material affluence of the societies that exploited people of color. As a model for grassroots direct action and insurgent consciousness, the southern civil rights movement spawned most of what was lo follow in die United States and established important precedents for others throughout the world (Branch, 1988; Morris, 1984; Reagon, 1979). The liberation struggles in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East, as well as specifically early efforts in Ghana, Vietnam, Iran, Guatemala, and Cuba, not only provided models for people worldwide, including acdvists in the civil rights movement in the United Stales, but symbolized the mobilization of a worldwide liberation struggle of people of color. The demand for national self-determination for all people (not just those of European descent), the opposition to policies of racism and imperialism, and the plea of the civil rights movement for "heloved community" helped pierce the consensus politics of the 1950s and early 1960s. More recent liberation struggles in Nicaragua, El Salvador, and South Africa, to name but a few, continued to challenge conservative, racist, and imperialist paradigms in the 1980s and 1990s. The continuous liberation struggles of people of color emphasize three lessons critical to the insurgent consciousness of contemporary community activism. First, citizen insurgency is not a political aberration. It is a legitimate and important, informal part of the political process to which all those without access to power can turn. Second, if oppressed people—often Illiterate, rural peasants with few resources— could mobilize, take risks, and make history, then people of other oppressed or threatened constituencies can, with sufficient organization and leadership, do the same. Third, strategy must include both community self-help and constituency empowerment, on the one hand, and the struggle for state power, or at least the targeting of the public sector as the site of grievances and as a potential source of support, on the other. This dual quality of building community capacity and targeting the state, though not always in equal i :'. 356 / Strategies balance and often in tension, as exempli- ,.' ficd in struggles between the Southern I Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) i: and the Student Nonviolent Coordinating j Com-mttlee (SNCC), was as true for the J civil rights movement in the United States j: as it was for the liberation struggles in the j; Third World (Carson, 1982). (3) Urban Decentralization and |, Citizen Participation i j The struggles of people in the southern ! hemisphere dramatized the exploitative I nature of the imperial postwar political jij . economy at the very moment in the 1960s '] that some progressive capitalists, political leaders, and planners in both the public and-s ' voluntary sectors found themselves unable i! . to address mounting urban problems at !J ' home. From 1960 onward, os liberal leaders j:* auch as presidents Kennedy and Johnson in 5 the United States advocated for modest ':;t social reforms and a more democratized :! ! public sector, pressure mounted for urban •' i decentralization and citizen participation. The Community Action Program of die ;i ; 1960s in the United States and the Urban i ■ Programme of the late 1960s in Britain were among the most noted of public pro-;. jects seeking "maximum feasible participa- tion" at the grassroots level. But such programs proliferated widely, making state-sponsored municipal decentralization and community participation an international phenomenon (Kjellberg, 1979; Blair, 1983; Midgley, 1986; Chekki, 1979). Of course, such postwar programs differ dramatically from Alinsky and liberation j movement efforts in Üieir origins and prob- \ .lem analysis. They are initiated largely by i reformers in the public and voluntary sec- ! tors—professionals such as urban planners 1 and social workers, who eiUier seek modest structural change or find themselves tOD constrained on the job to do much more in their agencies than deliver needed services at the grassroots level. As such, these initiatives represent a more institutionalized, more formalized wing of the community-based social action phenomenon. They tend, as well. Id implement decentralized structure and democratic participation into public agencies without a sense for the con-tradicdons Inherent in doing so, but with a knowledge of the importance of linking (lie state and grassroots activism. The state becomes not the target of democratic insurgency but the employer and supporter of citizen initiatives (Merkl, 19B5). At their worst, these measures defuse and coopt Insurgency, At their best, contemporary organizing draws from this legacy a commitment to serving the people, to advocacy, and to citizen participation: (a) Deliver services at a grassroots level where people will have better access, (b) Include more people, even lay people, in the de cis ion-making process at a more decentralized level, (c) Make sure they have real power to make decisions and control resources, (d) Struggle from within the state bureaucracies and agencies to achieve economic and participatory democracy for the greatest number af urban dwellers. (4) The New Left Movement Despite the efforts noted so far, urban problems and tensions continued to escalate in the 1960s. In response, direct action movements mounted, especially in the United Stales. Early SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) and SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) community organizing projects focused on "participatory democracy" and "letting the people decide," seeking not only to pressure local and national policy but to create "prefiguradve," that is alternative, social groups (Breines, Social Action Community Organization / 357 i 1982; Evans, 1979). They also developed a critique of American policy abroad and the liberal consensus at home. They built a movement in opposition to the politics of both corporate capital and the old social movement. After 1965. organizing adopted more nationalist and Marxist perspectives; Black Power efforts, for example, were less concerned with participatory democracy and more interested in challenging imperialism abroad and at home, winning "community control," and building black identity (Jennings, 1990). Such efforts in the United States were part of an insurgent trend in the West. Massive peace protests in the United Kingdom registered strong disapproval of Cold War policies, directly challenging social democratic regimes. These early efforts, among odiers, initiated a widespread "New LbR" movement diroughout the West, one which was soon to expand beyond university sites and student constituencies to develop, according to Ceccarelli (1982, p. 263), into "an unprecedented outburst of urban movements": Paris and West German cities in the Spring of 196B; Prague, Chicago, and Monterrey, Mexico, during that summer; in Italy the "Hot Autumn" of 1969 and the urban conflicts of the early 1970s; squatters in Portuguese cities after the April Revolution; and urban social movements in Madrid and other Spanish cities after Franco. All testify to a massive grassroots mobilization which developed rapidly, and perhaps even unprecederitedly, throughout Europe, the United States, and parts of die Third World (Ceccarelli, 1982; Teodoři, 1969). Concern for and experimentation widi participatory democracy, nonhierarchical decision making, prefiguralive cultural politics, linking the personal with the political, direct-action tactics, and constituency based organizing (students, the poor, etc.) characterized new left insurgent consciousness (Jacobs and Landau, 1966; Breines, 1982). Unlike the new social movement resistances to follow, the new left emphasized the formation of coalitions or political parties tied to national revolutionary/emancipatory struggles. There was a sense In the late 1960s, in cities as disparate as Paris, Berlin, Berkeley, and Monterrey, that "successful and autonomous urban movements are not a real alternative outside the context of a revolutionary national movement" (Walton, 1979, p. 12). The struggle over state power, over who should make public policy, fueled local organizing efforts. Grassroots efforts were for most activists a democratic means to larger objectives which transcended the local community. Tills strategy persists, in a more reformist form, in certain notable national efforts sincE then, such as die Green parties in Europe, the Workers Party in Brazil, and the Rainbow Coalition idea in the United States (Spretnak and "Capni, 1985; Alvarez, 1993; Collins, 1986). Community-based social action efforts which followed tended to borrow more heavily from the "newer" side of the New Left. These activists saw community organizing, alternative groupings, and grassroots efforts as at least (he primary focus if not the sole end. They emphasized democratic organizational structure, the politics of identity and culture, existential values of personal freedom and authenticity, and the development of "free spaces" where people could lenrn the theory and practice of political insurgency while engaging in it. So did much of the New Left, but the other, more Marxist segments, closer in style and politics to the old labor-based social action, adhered strongly to older concerns with public policy and winning state power (Evans, 355 / Strategies 1979; Evana and Boyte, 1986; Corson, 1982). (5) New Social Movements Despite a marked backlash worldwide against the radical activism of the late 1960s, the 1970s and 1980s witnessed not the end of community-based activism but tlie proliferation of grassroots activism and insurgency into highly diversified, single-issue or identity-oriented, community-based efforts. These efforts, the subject of Ulis essay, include women's shelters and feminist organizations, efforts in defense of tile rights and the communities of oppressed people of color, struggles around housing, ecology, and peace issues, gay and lesbian rights and identity groups, and thousands of neighborhood and issue-based citizen initiatives, complete with organizer training centers. While these organizing efforts vary from one national and local context to another, they share a common form and movement heritage. Based in geographic communities or communities of interest, decentralized according to constituencies and identity groups, democratic in process and goals, and funded most often by voluntary sources, they serve as the archetype for contemporary social action. The roots of their insurgent consciousness, while not always direct, can be found in (lie ideals discussed thus for: (1) that ordinary and previously oppressed people should have a voice and can make history, (2) that citizen and community participation, which gives "voice" to people previously silent in public discourse, is needed to improve decision making, address a wide range of problems, and democratize society, (3) that "by any means necessary" covers the gamut of strategies and tactics from revolutionary to interest-group politics, (4) that culture, whether found in a traditional ethnic neighborhood, battered women's shelter, counterculture collective, or gay men's organization, must be blended with the quest for "empowerment" into an identity- or a constituency-oriented politics, and (5) that "the personal is political," articulated first by radical feminists in the late 1960s, guides people to organize around aspects of daily life most central to them, while keeping in mind that struggles over personal issues and relationships—personal choice, autonomy, commitment, and fulfillment—are inextricably tied to collective ones of the constituency group and the larger society. Most commentators tend to see the focus on democracy as the essence of new social-movement insurgent consciousness and the source of its potential. As Frank and Fuentes (1990, p. 142) put it, the new Bocial movements "ore the most important agents of social transformation in that their praxis promotes participatory democracy in civil society. Pitkin and Shumer (1982, p. 43) go further, declaring that "of all the dangerous thoughts and explosive ideas abroad in the world today, by far the most subversive is that of democracy. ... [It] is die cutting edge of radical criticism, the best inspiration for change toward a more humane world, the revolutionary idea of our time." And these democratic projects have had profound impact: empowering participants, teaching democratic skills, transforming notions of political life, expanding political boundaries, returning politics to civic self-activity, strengthening a sense of public activism, raising new social and political issues, struggling against new forms of subordination and oppression, and even advancing agendas of the middle class to which formal, institutional politics remain closed (Roth, 1991; Slater, 1985). But while the emphasis on democracy unites diese efforts, it also helps detach them in the western industrialized nations Social Action Community Organization / 359 from the material needs of the poor, and it contributes to their fragmentation into a plethora of diverse, decentralized community organizations. The pursuit of democracy, without sufficient concern for equality, has resulted in the failure of the new social movements to address the material needs of the most disadvantaged. Moreover, the new social movement origins in culturally oriented, identity-based efforts tend to fragment social change efforts in general (Fisher and Kling, 1993). For example, die diversity and flexibility that theorists of postmodemity attribute to contemporary society are nowhere more evident than in the variety of these new social movement efforts. A commitment to diversity embodies their emphasis on democratic politics. It encourages each constituency or identity group to name its own struggles, develop its own voice, and engage in its own empowerment This may be die future of politics, a "postmodemiza-tion of public life," with its "proliferation of multiple publics [and] breaking down of rigid barriers between political and private life" (Kaufmann, 1990, p. 10). But the central challenges to these efforts require more immediate and realistic strategies. How do they encourage diversity and counteract fragmentation? How do tiiey influence or get power at levels—the city, state, and nation— beyond their own limited universes and at the same time build community capacityi How do we organize grassroots social action efforts and at the same time build a larger social change movement or political party, the size of which can only accomplish die needed, large structural changes? PRACTICE IMPLICATIONS Without question, the fragmentation of contemporary social action weakens the possibility for coherently imagined challenges to current problems. .To address this problem of contemporary organizing, the historical dialectic of domination and resistance must be understood and fashioned in terms of the interplay between class, community, and (he search for new cultural orientations. In this regard Kling and I have offered elsewhere the following sets of strategies (Fisher and Kling, 1991). First, mobilization in the fragmented metropolis demands that broad coalitions be sought between various constituency groups, and that community politics be more cohesively integrated with electoral activity. Single community-based efforts are not large enough to challenge the enormous power of corporate capital or centralized government. Because community problems almost always originate beyond local borders, the ability to effect change depends to a great extent upon coalition-building. The success of coalition-building, however, ultimately will be based upon whether specific ways can be found to break down the racial and cultural barriers that are so entrenched in the United Stales and growing again in Western Europe. Pressure group politics, even tlirough powerful coalitions, is not enough; movements must also struggle to win and hold power, not simply to influence iL The Electoral arena must become a prime target for social movement mobilizing while, at some later point, political parties serve the critical role of formalizing and structuring relationships between loosely formed coalitions and constituency-based groups (Boyte et al.t 1986; Delgado, 1986; Spretnak and Capra, 1985). We offer such advice knowing how coalition and electoral efforts draw already scarce resources away from the fundamental task of grassroots organizing. But the local and Üie global are equally necessary, and numerous models of such dually focused practice have emerged over time. 460 / Administration and Strategies custom of following established procedures. Overcoming such obstacles is by no means easy. Consider, for example, the difficulties that might be anticipated in attempting to shift the program focus of a medical clinic serving primarily young mothers and their cliildren, to a medical checkup program for the aging, or of getting a citywide planning agency to develop neighborhood planning "outposts." Adding a new program to an existing agency may result in serious coordination problems between functional units, may lead to conflict with other agency activities, and may ultimately lead to its "benign neglect." On the other hand, establishing a new agency is often costlier than expanding the services of an existing organization. An established agency is often well recognized and supported in the community. Its staff has the training and experience to run the agency and knows how to handle all its administrative details. Moreover, the agency may have all the basic equipment necessary for the new service or program. New agencies often flounder because of the lack of experience and expertise. PROCEDURES IN ORGANIZING A NEW SERVICE OR PROGRAM Identifying the Need for Service No new agency or program should be initiated unless it is propelled by the existence of a concrete and viable need. Self-evident as tliis may seem, attempts are too often made to develop new services without a clear definition and articulation of the needs to be met Lack of clarity and specificity of needs is likely to result in two undesirable consequences. First, it makes it far more difficult to mobilize community support for the new program. Second, the actual design of the program may be haphazard, ad hoc, often leading to ineffectiveness and inefficiency. A cardinal principle in program design is that the greater the clarity of the program's objectives, the better its chances for success. Identifying unmet needs in the community is a complex task that necessitates several steps. The concept of "need" itself often defies adequate definition. What is perceived as a need by one group may not be so considered by another. Nevertheless, there are a number of ways in which planners can get a quick orientation to needs. The following are illustrative strategies: 1. Planners might start by examining available statistical reports such as census data, local Social Security office data, county government surveys, health surveys. While information on the number of potential clients in a given area, their distribution in various neighborhoods, their level of income, housing patterns, health conditions and the like might not indicate what they "need," such information is often suggestive. 2. The planner-organizer might then take a second step: identifying the various agencies in the area that serve the community. This involves finding out whom these agencies serve and what types of services they offer. Statistical reports issued by relevant agencies, the local welfare council and the public social service agencies may be of particular importance. Some communities may have developed information systems for a network of agencies that could provide invaluable data to the planner-organizer.5 6Sce for cxnmple, CHH.DATA. Council fDr Community Services In Metropolitan Chicago. Program Development / 461 3. A third step is to explore with the staff of the agencies that are current or potential providers of services to the target population the concerns and problems it has identified regarding gaps or inequities in services. 4. Very early in the process, planners should meet with community groups to discuss their wants, preferences, and interests. 5. A more systematic data-gathering procedure might be developed through a "needs survey" of the neighborhoods in which potential clients are most likely to reside. The facilities of a college or university or a local mental health center, as well as civic groups and volunteers, can be mobilized to conduct the survey. Questions should be designed to elicit information about the problems and unmet needs of those interviewed. A social-indicators-type survey is one of the most useful of the new devices lo get at such information.7 An important concomitant of the planner's information-gathering activities is his or her effort to increase the community's awareness of the needs of the target popula- . tion. Involvement of community leaders and representatives of agencies in determination of these needs sensitizes them to existing problems and lays the groundwork for mobilizing them into action. Awareness on the part of key groups and agencies in the community is often fundamental to the initiation of new programs. Mobilizing Support for the Service It is extremely difficult to develop a new program without the existence and active support of a group in the community that is 7D. Früh, " Analysis of Need," in M. J. Brown, ed., Social Issuas and the Social Services (Lnndon: Charles Knight, 1974); 27-56, highly committed to its development The planner-organizer must often initiate and organize such an action group. The action gToup then gathers resources and influence, actively representing the new program's objectives, and fights for its support in the community. In short, it assumes on advocate function. Sometimes this group will be the planner's advisory council. At other times it will be a specially organized task force on transportation or protective services or some other need. Again, it may be a purely ad hoc coalition of interested parties. What persons should the planner-organizer mobilize into such a group? Perhaps more than anything else, participants should share a keen interest in and concern for the welfare of the target population. To be truly responsive, it must include representatives of the clients themselves. Potential for influence is another criterion for inclusion. The greater the individual prestige of the members, the greater their potential for collective influence. Influential members may include representatives of civic organizations, financial institutions, church organizations, and the like. The higher the level of understanding about tlie problems of the target population among members of this group and the greater their expertise in the delivery of services to them, the more realistic will be the group's efforts and the greater the credibility of its suggestions to the community. Planners often enlist members of professional associations, physicians, social workers, etc., to assure this expertise. Having representatives of community agencies in the group increases (lie chances that their support for a new program will be forthcoming. The function of such a group might be: to formulate the overall objectives of the new program; to identify the target popula- 462 / Administration and Strategies tion to be served; to identify sources of financial support for the new program; to present the program objectives Lo important institutions in the community (such as city council, county government, mental health bonrd, United Fund); or all of these. This group might also examine in detail the information and ideas developed by the planner-organizer. Although the group itself need not develop a detailed plan for action, consensus regarding the type of program to be developed is helpful. Sometimes, of course, consensus is difficult to reach. Participants must be aware (hat differences in opinion or in conclusion ore possible, and that these experiences can be healthy. An action group should provide the arena where ideas can be exchanged, proposals explored, and creative thinking encouraged. Ultimately, the group should formulate a basic plan for a new progrnm by identifying and agreeing upon its major objectives and the population it should serve. It is from this action group that a body in charge of defining or reviewing the policies for the new program may ultimately be drawn. This may be formalized as a board of directors, as an advisory council, or as an internal task force within an existing agency. The importance of an action group of litis kind cannot be overemphasized. In Hie founding stages of the new program, the planner-organizer will need to rely heavily on its support, energy, and creativity, and most importantly, on its ability to mobilize necessary resources for the program.8 The existence of an advocate group is no less crucial when the planner decides to launch the program within an existing agency, than when an entirely new structure is to be developed. BM. Znltl, "The Power unit Function of Boards of Dircc[ors:ATl]corctÍcnlSynlliesia,"'/tinerřcffltJDiiiTinř ofSatíoloBí 75 f July 1969): 97~111. Assigning Responsibilities to n Board or Advisory Council When the interest group has developed an adequate level of cohesion and formulated a basic statement regarding the mandate of the new program, it may be reconstituted as a formal board or council. It might then be given any of the following charges: 1. Development of a specific plan for the implementation of the new progrnm 2. Responsibility for obtaining the basic resources to get the program started 3. Authority to hire or approve the director of the new progrnm 4. Accountability for the activities of the program director and the disbursement of fiscal resources The board or council must be helped to develop some internal division of labor to ensure that the necessary tasks will be fulfilled. -This may involve designating members as president or chairman, secretary, treasurer, program planning subcommittee and the like. In addition, clear procedures for decision making must be formulated. These steps are of particular importance since the board's decisions are bound to have critical impact on the character and direction of the program. Defining the Mission of the New Agency or Program Establishment of a new progrnm requires a carefully planned blueprint that specifies both mission and operational objectives. It requires a thoughtful assessment of the feasibility of achieving each objective and identification of the essential means for implementing iL Identified needs coupled with available resources and means must be translated into a series of program objectives aimed at meeting these needs. ÍÍ- Program Development / 463 The planner-organizer plays a crucial role at this stage. Possessing critical information regarding needs, as well as knowledge about potential resources, he or she must help the board, advisory council, or task force to reacli consensus on what the organization's mission will be. This mission is defined in terms of needs to be met, populations to be served, and services to be given. This mission, however, must be translated into operational terms. This requires first of all, specification of the needs to be addressed. These needs are prioritized (step no. 1), and objectives specified (step no. 2). It is not necessary that the most crucial need be acted on first. Sometimes what is most easily accomplished takes precedence on the planner's timetable. But the ultimate mission must always be kept in mind. Specifying the Objectives Specifying the objectives of the program is a process of moving from the general to the specific through careful assessment of alternatives. Assume, for example, that there is a consensus to focus on the needs and prob- lems of aged persons living alone. In the process of identifying the needs of such a population there arises n growing awareness that they are most likely to experience problems in persona! management Such consensus does not lead directly to programs or services. Are these problems expressed in poor household management, in inadequate diet, in poor personal care, in social isolation? Which of these problems are of Uie greatest urgency7 If agreement on the urgency of these problems can be reached, Uiey may be ordered on a chart. In Figure 28.1, four specific problems are identified and ordered in terms oF importance. The next task (step no. 3) is to specify the "target" population lo determine more exactly what older persons are to be helped by the new or expanded services. A similar process is followed to idenüfy those who manifest the problems most acutely. These may be found in a minority population with low income, residing in a specific neighborhood. Agreements must bo reached concerning this target population, as its characteristics will determine the feasibility of various alternatives for responding to the needs. HGURE2B.I Target Populauoa Aged persons living oloac General Problem P, Problems in personal management by the single n g cd (target population) S peel fie Problému P, j Nutritional ■rf d end en des Pu Poor management Ír t)f personal budget - P|3 Poor houaekecplnß Lack of social contact 464 / Administration and Strategies FiaURE2a.2 O, Getting older persons fed nutritiously Oj Id creasing knowledge about dicln The choice of the target population should also reflect contingencies regarding the attainment of needed resources. Grants may be earmarked far certain categories of older persons. Certain agencies may be able to provide certain services only to older persons living in their geographical jurisdiction. Also,' if it will take two years and $200,000 to develop a service for persons living in neighborhood X, while a similar level of service to persons in neighborhood Y is possible for for less and in only nine months, the choice of initial target population may be clear. Next comes exploring alternative program approaches to dealing with specific problems of the target population (step no. 4). For example, in addressing the problem of nutritional deficiencies the objective may be to provide meals to a given population. Alternatively, the service might be an educational one, in which older persons are taught about proper diet (see Figure 28.2). Similarly, in response to financial management problems, program objectives may include helping older persons to use their financial resources more efficiently, increasing access and use of banking services, and the like (see Figure 28.3). Through this process a list of potential agency or program objectives can be developed. Doing a Feasibility Study After an inventory of alternative objectives has been formulated, a feasibility study of each (step no. 5) is necessary. Some of the criteria to be used are as follows: 1. What would be the fiscal cost? 2. What would be the manpower requirements? 3. What facilities and equipment would be needed7 4. How receptive to the objective could the community be expected to be? 5. What would be the anticipated support of the objective by other community agencies? FIGURE 2B.3 íř_ O, Increasing efficient use of fin uncial resources 0; Increasing access to banking Services Program Development / 465 With such information on each objective, the planning task force must now shift its focus to the other side of the coin, namely assessing the potential money and credit the new program could hope to obtain (step no. 6). Some of the elements in such considerations are: 1. The availability of federal and/or state grants 2. Potential contributions by local government 3. Donations and contributions by local private organizations such as United Fund 4. In-kind contributions by social service agencies and social clubs 5. Availability of volunteers to offset or reduce staffing casts In considering various sources of sup-part, it is often necessary that the new program be affiliated with, or an integral component of, an existing agency. The auspice-giving or sponsoring agency may be able to allocate a certain portion of its budget for the new program, cut the administrative or overhead costs, or provide the organizational auspices required as qualification for grants. Following the feasibility study, the board, council, or task force must then, on the basis of all the information on options and constraints, determine which services the new program will provide. This process culminates in a comprehensive policy statement specifying the consented objectives of the new program, the rationale for their adopdon, the kinds of services to be provided, the clients to be served, and the individuals and groups who have assumed responsibility for the program and will be accountable for it to the public. Such a statement may serve as a charter, which may be required if the program is to become incorporated. In any event, it is a claim for domain and a statement of intent. Obtaining Seed Money for Stnrt-Up Some planner-organizers assume that no project should commence unless all the resources needed to ensure its success ore secured. This view fails to recognize that Ute most effective way to obtain needed resources may be to start the project and count on its visibility, demonstrated utility, and receptivity by clients to attract new resources. A program once storied often generates its own momentum, attracting supporters unknown prior to the project's initiation and quickly developing spokesmen for itself in the community. This, of course, is not always the case. Many programs have foundered on inadequate funding, regardless of the need for the services. Every beginning necessitates some risk taking. TIie constraint of inadequate financial resources is a limiting factor, but it need not be an inhibiting one, Nevertheless, basic "seed" or "start-up" money is often necessary. The planner-organizer, willi a knowledge of federal and state funds and grants, and through contacts with local agencies, plays a crucial role in locating and obtaining funds. Together with the sponsoring agency or members of the board, task force, or advisory council, the planner-organizer may initiate orprovide technical assistance toward: (1) the submission of grant proposals to federal or state governmental agencies or to private foundations; (2) fund-raising campaigns witli the help of local civic associations, fraternal clubs, or churches; (3) solicitation ofdonations from industrial and commercial organizations; (4) competition for local or revenue-sharing funds; (5) presentations before the United Fund; (6) development of contracts with established 466 í Administration and Strategies community agencies, such ns a community mental health board, for the provision of funds for the new program; (7) locating inland resources (such as facilities and equipment) tlirough enlistment of the aid of social clubs and the news media; (8) mobilizing volunteers to provide the initial manpower needed to start the program. The initial resources gndiered for the new program must be allocated for two basic purposes: to set up the actual service or program, and to promote the program in the community, attracting additional resources. Often, because of inadequate financing, there is a tendency to ignore the second purpose. Yet if those resources are not allocated Id promotion, the program may quickly reach a dead end. While it may be difficult to divert limited dollars from needed services, failure to do so may be shortsighted, ignoring the fact that organizations must survive Id be successful. Promotion requires more than money, however. It usually requires the assignment of staff to carry it out. Specifying Uie Program Technology The program objectives formulated in the new program's policy statement do not necessarily define Uie means to achieve them. The "set of means" by which the objectives oře to be accomplished is called the program technology of the organization. As (lie technology becomes articulated, it provides a series of guidelines for the type of staff and skills needed and the daily tasks to be performed in serving clients.9 The components of a program technology can he derived from the program objectives discussed earlier. In the previous example, the problem of nutritional deficiencies led to identification of two objectives—getting older persona fed nutritiously, and increasing their knowledge about diets. In attempting to implement the first of these objectives, the planner-organize r should explore every possible type of service that relates to providing adequate meals for the aging. Schematically, the process can be presented as shown in Figure 28.4. Thus S( may be a meals-on-wheels service, S2 may represent a cooperative cooking program for small groups af older persons in a given neighborhood, and S3 might be a hot lunch program at the neighborhood schools. The choice of the specific service may be based on such criteria as: (1) known success of similar programs elsewhere, (2) availability of expertise to implement it, (3) availability of other necessary resources, (4) receptivity by the aged to be served. 9On llie enntxpt of hurann service tEchnoIogy secY. Hnsctifcld and R, English, cua., Human Senke Organizations (Ann Arbor University of Michigrm Press, 197*1): 12-14. FIGURE 2B.4 Objective Service Task Program Development / 467 Assuming that the meals-on-wheels program has been adopted, the next series of specifications identifies the major tasks required to provide the service. For example, Su stands for organizing volunteers with cars; S. 2, preparation of weekly visits by a nutritionist; S13, preparing the meals at the kitchen of the local church, etc. In short, this process provides a blueprint of nil major tasks necessary to make tile program operative. Implementing tile Program Technology Once lite choice of technology is made and its components identified, the new program can proceed to obtain the needed personnel. The program technology itself can be used to provide guidelines for the type of personnel required, and to specify die skills required of staff. It can, in fact, be used bb the basis far writing job descriptions— although these should not be overly prescriptive or rigid. Any program, in its initial phase, will require a great deal of flexibility from its staff. Staff may be called upon to switch roles and assume various tasks as the need arises, even though tasks calling for particular skills must be performed by qualified personnel. The success of the meals-on-wheels program, for.example, may hinge on the skills of a nutritionist needed to plan well-balanced meals. A program in which volunteers cook and deliver meals may only seem to be successful but in fact be missing the objective of getting older people fed nutritiously. Once personnel are hired they must be given the responsibility to perform those iasks for which they are qualified. A nutritionist, for example, may not be the right person to supervise or organize drivers for (lie "wheels" part of the meals program. There is often a tendency to assume that n higher level of credentials implies proficiencies in many areas. Yet a nutritionist with an academic degree may know little about counseling or working with volunteers. Often a volunteer is much better qualified. Developing on Appropriate Delivery Structure Division of labor, then, is oil-important Effective division of labor requires three critical organizational decisions: Who does what? In what order must various tasks be performed? Who is accountable far what is done7 The first decision requires identification of the tasks to be performed and the persons to perform them. The second decision is related to sequence and coordination. Some tasks must be performed before others can be begun. Those that are performed sequentially may be separated among several work units. Oilier tasks must be performed together and belong to the same work unit. In every organization there arc certain sets of activities for which a supervisory person may be held accountable. The following principles may prove useful in guiding the development of an appropriate set of structural relationships.10 1. Those activities which need to be done simultaneously or in close proximity lo each other are generally best grouped together. In the example given, the menu planning and the cooking activities should be in the hands of certain staff, while the handling of the delivery of the meals can be in the hands of anotlier group. A set of ,DP. R. Lawrence niril J. W. Lorsch, Organizations and Environment (Cnmb ridge, MA: Hncvnrd University Press, 1967). 468 / Administration and Strategies activities wliich must be closely coordinated should be conducted or supervised by a single unit supervisor. 2. Activities thnt have different time and space schedules and contingencies should generally be grouped separately. For .example, the meals-on-wheels program should be separated from a group counseling program. 3. Tasks which can be performed through explicit routines should be separated from tasks that are nonroutine. For example, determination of membership, registration, and fee assessment are routine tasks. They should not be performed by those who provide consultation to community groups, a highly nonroutine activity. 4. Activities which require different ways of relating to the clients ßhould he separated. For example, recreational activities for older people should not ordinarily be provided by the staff who give intensive individual counseling. While the same staff could conceivably do both, there ought to be a clear distinction between their two functions. 5. Staff should not be subjected to multiple supervision if at all possible. If it is necessary for more than one supervisor to relate to a particular staff person because of multiple roles that staff person performs, clear distinction must be made regarding the areas of jurisdiction of each supervisor. The period of initial implementation of program technology is a period of trial and error. It requires a great deal of flexibility and no little tolerance for failure and for ambiguity. Open-mindedness and willingness to explore alternative routes are essential ingredients. During the early stages of program development, lines of communication with staff and clients must be kept as open as possible. Feedback is essential if the program is to adjust to unexpected exigencies. Staff who work directly with the community can provide invaluable information on the operationalization of the technology and its problems, its failures, and its successes. It is probably desirable to have a "dry run" of the technology to test its organization and to acquaint the staff with its roles and duties. This can be accomplished through simulation techniques prior to putting the program into the field. Another approach is to select clients who are willing to volunteer for the service, even though the "bugs" in it may not have been fully shaken out. Developing Biter-Agency Relationsliips Concurrent with development of the technology of an agency or program is the development of a "support structure." This Structure refers to the organization's patterned relationsliips to those elements in its environment that provide it with the resources necessary to attain its service and maintenance objectives. These elements include: 1. Clients or consumers of its service 2. Fiscal, manpower, technical, and other resources essential to the goal-oriented performance 3. Complementary or supportive services without which an agency's services would he unattainable, inadequate, or ineffective 4. Support or recognition from regulatory and auspice-providing bodies which give the program its authority or mandate Managing the flow of these elements to and from the program requires establish- Program Development / 469 ment of a variety of exchange relationships with other organizations in the environment, This environment is described as an agency's "task environment." It is composed of all those groups and organizations whose actions directly affect the agency's goal attainment. Exchange activities leading to receiving elements from the task environment may take the form Df: (1) competition, (2) contractual agreements, (3) coaptation, or (4) coalition formation.11 Agencies and programs are frequently in competition with each other for needed resources. One agency may compete with another for a federal grant by offering to serve more clients peť dollar; it may compete to obtain better-trained staff by offering better benefits. Human services agencies often make contractual arrangements, in which one organization agrees to do something for another (often in return for something). Without such arrangements, many services would be poorly performed or left undone. Examples abound. Agencies may exchange staff with complementary competencies on a temporary basis. One agency may do the mailing and publicity for another. A community group may contract with the Welfare Council to assess the service needs of a particular neighborhood. A county department of social services may purchase services from other agencies for its clients, including recreation, menial health, or protective services it does not have the staff to provide directly. A new program or agency may also attempt to coopt key persons from other agencies whose services it seeks. Cooptation is accomplished through involving others in the design of a service or delivery of a ser- llIC Bcnsnn, "The InlerarEnnizntloniil Network as a Politími Economy," Administratíve Science Quarterly 20 (June 1975): 229-46. vice program. Cooptation strategies are employed when involvement and its rewards ore likely to give those who might otherwise oppose a program a greater appreciation for why it is needed and what it is intended to accomplish. Their involvement may not only nullify potential opposition, but may actually increase support. When agencies pool their resources in a joint venture, they form a coalition. Coalitions differ from contracts in that the latter require explicit agreements about what one party will do for the other. Coalitions, on the other hand, ore binding only insofar as working together leads to some mutual goal attainment. It is not essential for parties in an exchange relationship to benefit equally from the exchange, or to have fully complementary goals. It is only necessary that each part perceive the relationship as being of some benefit to itself. The choice of each of these strategies depends on numerous conditions, particularly those pertaining to the perceived status and desirability of the new program in the community. The more secure and the greater the importance attached to the agency's services, for example, the more likely it is to employ competitive and contractual strategies. Enlisting Needed Elements from the Environment In the discussion that follows, attention will be given to how agencies recruit resources or manage the flow of needed elements from the environment itself. Clients. Clients can he recruited through referrals by other agencies informed about the new program. Clients may also be informed of a service through the news media. To reach some isolated clients, it is 470 l Administration and Strategies often necessary to launch a doar-to-door campaign using volunteers. Inadequate interpretation of an agency's services or intake policy may result in inappropriate referrals. An agency that turns away many ineligible clients causes a serious and unnecessary hardship to those clients and to its staff as well. It does harm to its own linage, often damaging its relationships to other agencies. Thus it is critical for the new program to disseminate accurate and specific information about eligibility, both to the public and to other social agencies. Changes in eligibility criteria should be promptly communicated to all referral sources. Permanent Sources of Funding. Often a new program must expend some of its initial and temporary resources on activities aimed at securing additional, more permanent sources of funding. Examples of such activities include: (1) entering into negotiations with the United Fund or United Way; (2) preparing grant applications to federal and state governmental agencies; (3) organizing a group of community influentials willing to sponsor an annual fund drive; (4) negotiating with local governmental bodies such as community mental health boards or county commissioners to incorporate the program under its sponsorship. These and other activities require that certain staff members spend considerable time and energy meeting with potential funding sources, exchanging ideas, and presenting the agency's case. It is often desirable to designate a specific staff position for such activities and hire a person with considerable experience in mobilization of resources. Knowledge and Expertise. No new program can function without adequate access to at least the minimal amount of necessary knowledge and expertise. In the long run, the success of an agency may hinge on the quality of services it offers, and that quality may be in direct proportion to the knowledge and expertise of its staff. Inadequate and erroneous information could be disastrous. The planner-organizer can mobilize expertise through: (1) enlisting the services of experts in the field from nearby institutes and universities; (2) consulting with and visiting programs of similar nature in other communities; (3) arranging information exchanges between the staff of the new agency and that of an established one in another area; (4) exploring the available literature on the problems or needs the program attempts to deal with; (5) obtaining consultation and relevant publications from appropriate state and federal agencies; (6) arranging for training and continuing education seminars. Complementary Services. The effectiveness of any program is dependent in no small measure an the availability of complementary services for its clients. It is not enough to give one's own service well. No matter how highly specialized a service, the organization providing that service must still assume some responsibility for the general welfare of its clients. It cannot shy away from its obligation to make sure that clients receive other needed services. This is particularly true when the effectiveness of the very services provided by the agency is dependent on the complementary services of other agencies. For example, if an agency develops a child-care program, it cannot in good conscience ignore the health needs of the children, and it may contract for periodic medical examinations with the local "well baby" clinic. A nutrition program for the aged might not bo Program Development / 471 successful unless it also enlisted cooperation from the outreach staff of the Information and Referral Service, the Visiting Nurses Association, or the Mental Health Crisis Center. A new program must identify the crucial services it will need to enlist from other agencies and programs in order to meet its awn objectives. It is within the planner-organizer's responsibility to see to it that such services are or will be made available. Without them, the new program may fail. These complementary services can he arranged through aeveral means: (1) actual purchase of such services from another agency; (2) contract of exchange of services between the two agencies; (3) n unilateral decision by die other agency to provide die needed services as a gesture of goodwill; (4) a coalition of several agencies with different services all committed to serve the same clients. Monitoring and Evaluation. Every program is subject to the monitoring and evaluation of some overseeing agencies. These may be state licensing organizations, other governmental units, local administrative boards, professional associations, citizens' groups, or other interested parties. Often these regulatory agencies exert considerable influence. They may impose very specific requirements for the agency to meet A state agency, for example, may annually audit the financial transactions of the program, or it may check the extent to which the facilities conform to state regulations. A professional organization may be responaible for accreditation without which outside grants cannot be received. The planner-organizer must see to it that the program hos developed the appropriate mechanisms by which it can meet the requirements of these regulatory agencies. This is not a mere bureaucratic formality. Accrediting bodies and standard-setting organizations are often the key sources of legitimation and support of a new program. For example, an agency approved for inlernsliip of urban planners will gain considerable prestige and recognition in the professional community and could, therefore, attract good staff. Similarly, an agency that receives a favorable evaluation by a state agency is more likely lo obtain future state grants. Maintaining appropriate relations with the various agencies and organizations necessitates the establishment of "boundary roles" for program staff. Persons in these roles develop and maintain linkages between the new program and relevant organizations in its environment.'2 A staff person may be designated as the liaison with the state social service agency, county government, local hospital, etc. The duties of boundary personnel include: (1) establishment of die necessary relations with outside groups and organizations; (2) resolution of whatever difficulties may arise in the course of a relationship; (3) obtaining relevant up-to-date information about the activities of the partner to the relationship; (4) establishment of contacts with key staff in that organization or group who may be favorable toward the agency; (5) alerting the agency to new developments that may alter the relations between the two. The nbility of an agency to seize on new opportunities in the environment, to adapt to new changes, and to be prepared for new constraints depends on the effective job performed by the occupants of these boundary roles. They serve ns the ears and eyes of l3H. Aldrich und D. Hettcer, "Boundary Spanning Rplca and Oiganiinlion Slmcluic," mimeographed paper (Ilhacn, NY: Cornell Unlvetsiiy, 1974). 472 / Administration and Strategies the agency, without which its ability to adapt, grow, and develop would be seriously hampered. Legitimation and Social Support. Underlying all the inter-agency relations described above is a pervasive need of the program to obtain legitimation and social support. The success of the program in achieving viability is dependent on its ability to become a recognized "institution" in the community. Once the program is perceived by key elements in the community as desirable, indispensable, and an important contributor to the general welfare of the community, it has been "legitimated." Legitimacy implies that the community is willing to accept it us a viable and necessary component of the service structure.13 Support and legitimacy do not come easily; neither are they cheap. Concerted efforts to achieve them must be made by program staff. Support generally requires at the very least a satisfied community group or gratified clients. This is the core of an agency's constituent base. This constituency should also include other social service agencies that benefit in some direct way from the services offered by the new program. The constituent base should also include community iufluentials and professionals wliD ore committed to the well-being of the target population. Other mechanisms to promote support for the program include: lectures and presentations by staff to various community groups; establishment of an influential board of directors; public visits to the agency's facilities; reports by the news media of the activities of the agency; etc. l3P. Selznick, Leadership in Administration (New Yacfc: Harper, 1957). But necessary as these are, none is sufficient without solid constituent support Getting Staff to Perform Adequately Persons choose to work in organizations and agencies for a variety of reasons. They often join an agency staff with personal expectations and aspirations. The agency, on the other hand, expects them to perform in accordance with its needs, demands, and schedules. There may be many points of incongruity between personal aspirations of staff and organizational expectations. The larger the discrepancies, the greater the strains and die less likelihood that staff will perform adequately.1,1 Planner-organizers can help a new program determine adequate criteria for staff selection and realistic expectations for performance. Individuals who become employees of an agency make a contractual agreement whereby they accept the role requirements assigned to them in exchange for the various inducements provided by the agency (salary, work satisfactions, good working conditions). A great deal of misunderstanding can he avoided if the agency specifies its requirements at the point of recruitment Clearly written requirements can guide the agency to hire staff who have the needed skills, aptitudes, and attributes. Recruitment, however, is only a limited mechanism to ensure Üiat staff will perform adequately. Socialization is a critical organizational process through which staff internalizes agency norms and values and learns specific role obligations. Two important socialization mechanisms are training and staff development. I4L. W. Parier, E. E. Lnwler. and J. R. Haclunan, Behavior in Organizations (New York; McGraw-Hill, 1975). Program Development / 473 In the final analysis, however, effective and efficient role performance by staff is predicated on the design of a work unit that is congruent with the tasks it has to perform.15 Tasks can be categorized by two major variables: (1) Task difficulty, which refers to the degree of complexity, amount of knowledge needed, and reliance on nonroutine decision making. For example, determination of service eligibility may be a very simple task hased on few explicit decision rules, while planning community services necessitates consideration of many factors, reliance on extensive knowledge, and complex decision making. (2) Task variability, which refers to the degree of uniformity and predictability of the work to be done. For example, preparation of monthly statistical reports íb a relatively uniform and predictable task, while developing ties with various agencies calls for a variety of procedures. TaskB which are low in complexity and variability call for a work unit structure which is essentially bureaucratic in the classical sense of the word. Tasks which are high in complexity and variability necessitate a work unit structure which is "human relational." In a bureacratic structure line staff has very limited discretion; there is a clear hierarchy of authority; and coordination of staff is based on an extensive set of rules and operating procedures. In a human relation structure, the discretion of line staff is high; relations with supervisory staff are callegial; and coordination is based on feedback from the other staff. When the task has both complex and noncomplex components or variable and nonvariable elements which cannot be separated, a "mixed" structure will be most appropriate.,G Based on the nature of the "mix" such a structure may provide line staff with high discretion in some specific areas and none in others. For example, the task of intake may be of such type. Workers may have high discretion in defining the problem of the client, but none concerning determination of fees, scheduling, and the like. It can be readily shown that each structure is most efficient if appropriately matched with the charocteristics of the tasks to be performed. This is so because tile work unit structure is designed to elicit the behavioral and role prescriptions that each task requires. When conflict arises between two units or among several staff members because of overlapping jurisdictions, lack of coordination, or lack of mutual understanding, an nd hoc task force to deal with the conflict may prove helpful. In a multi-service center, for example, a conflict could arise between the outreach staff and the counseling staff. The former may feci that they do not get any help in scheduling appointments and in coping with problems they encounter in the field. The counseling staff, on the other hand, may feel that it is asked to do the work of the outreach staff and that the outreach staff fails to understand what the counselors are trying to accomplish. To resolve the conflict an ad hoc task force might be established with representatives of both parties to arrive at an acceptable solution, or an integrator position might be created. The integrator role requires that a third party become the mediator between parties in the dispute. The integrator is generally a person with adequate knowledge of the activities of the units of persons he or she attempts to l3C Perrow, op, rit., Chapter 3. IBEugene Litwak, "Models of Organization Which Permit Conflict," America» Journal of Sociology G7 CSftpL 1961). pp. 177-84. 474 / Administration and Strategies a bring together, and may be in an authority position in relation to both. In the example above, the integrator might be a person who has Expertise in both outreach and counseling, so that liis directive to both units will be respected. His function is to identify areas where coordination needs to be established and procedures that can be developed to minimize conflict He also serves ns a mediator, interpreting to each unit the issues and problems the other unit needs to solve.17 A further word: Conflict is not necessarily dysfunctional to an organization. To the contrary. It can help to effectively identify operational problems, philosophical differences, or staff deficiencies. Properly managed, conflict situations assure a changing and responsive pattern of agency operations. Conflict is often a symptom of healthy adaptation to changing needs and expectations. Developing an Intelligence and Feedback System There is a strong correlation between the extent to which an organization can adapt to changes in its environment and the effectiveness of its "intelligence" system. An effective system enables the organization to evaluate its own activities in relation to changes and developments in its environ-, ment. Without such a system, the organization may find that its services and modes of operation are rapidly becoming obsolete. An effective and efficient intelligence system can provide tlie program with the new information and knowledge required to adjust to changes from both within and without. In general, an intelligence system fulfills three interrelated functions: monitoring the external task environment of the agency, "P. R. LnwrencE and J.W. Lorsch, op. ciL, ampler 9. internal auditing of staff and client activities, and evaluation of the agency's outputs. The monitoring of the agency's external environment is intended to alert the agency to important changes and developments in the various units upon which it is dependent These include federal and state programs, the programs of local social service agencies, new legislation, etc. Monitoring activities can also be directed at identifying new developments in service techniques. Finally, external monitoring is required to inform the agency of changes in the character of the population it seeks to serve. Tile main purpose of internal auditing is to inform the agency of the activities of the Staff vis-a-vis the clients. Information generated by internal auditing enables staff tD assess the progress of the clients and to determine future courses of action, and enables the agency management to evaluate the operation of the service .technology. Without such evaluation, the agency has no way of determining whether it is achieving its service goals at some reasonable level. Evaluation of agency outputs occurs after clients have been served by the agency. The emphasis is on what happened to clients and how many were served. Fulfillment of each of these intelligence functions requires several steps: (1) collection of the necessary data; (2) analysis of those data so that they are useful and used; (3) transmission of relevant information to appropriate decision makers; and (4) interpretation of the information in order to generate additional knowledge. Since the final step of the intelligence process is the generation of knowledge, malfunction in any of the previous steps is likely to adversely affect the capability of the intelligence system to develop that knowledge. Effective external monitoring systems are dependent on the performance of boundary personnel who maintain close lies Program Development / 475 with external units and who actively scan the environment for new resources. Staff members assuming boundary roles may develop specialized working relations with a given set of organizations. The contact person gathers essential information about the availability of given resources and the conditions of their use, and transmits this information to staff members who can use ÍL This is a necessary function if the agency is to remain up-to-date on changes and developments in its environment. Personnel who perform boundary roles must develop expert knowledge about the characteristics of the resources in Iheir areas of specialization. They must also be able to develop cooperaüve and informative relationships with the major suppliers of these resources, and must develop analytic skills necessary to assess and evaluate developments and changes in the nature of the environment. Perhaps most important, they must acquire effective and efficient communication channels to decision makers within their own organization. Internal auditing enables staff to carry out its activities on an informed and rational basis. Internal auditing is directed at (1) the case or client level, and (2) the operational or departmental level. The function of internal auditing at the case or client level is to provide staff with all the necessary information for decision making at every juncture of the client's career in the agency. This often requires the use of a client "case record." Each client served by the agency should have a record which includes basic information about him, his own perception of his needs, and the service objectives for him. Actions taken by staff and periodic evaluations of the client's performance in the agency should be systematically recorded and the Impact of those services noted. A client record could be organized around topics such as background information, health status, income, housing, nutrition needs, and interpersonal problems. Each action or referral should be recorded in the appropriate topic section. A scheme must also be developed far the uniform classification and codification of the information items to be used; and procedures for information gathering, update, and retrieval must be planned. Tills process requires that the basic information the agency plans to collect and use be classified and coded in a aystem of categories that are explicitly defined, unambiguous, and uniformly npplied throughout the entire agency. This process can be used to enable staff to develop an orderly and rational sequence of services aimed at assisting the client to achieve his service goals. It can also be used to monitor the actions taken and to signal staff when new or different decisions need to be made. Auditing procedures at the "operations" level attempt to answer basic managerial questions about the modes of operation of the agency or units thereof. These could include the analysis of nil activities done for clients suffering from visual handicaps; the success of various treatment technologies; analysis of the type of referrals used by the agency; or the responses of staff to clients who drop out. The findings of such auditing enable the agency ta evaluate its operating procedures and make necessary adjustments or changes. Findings may specify such information as (1) the type of clients arriving at the agency, the range of problems they present, and the services they request; (2) assessment of the services given to different cohorts of clients, the consequences of those services, or whether adequate follow-up is done by staff; (3) the performance of various staff regarding size of case load; average number of contacts 476 / Administration and Strategies with clients; (4) type of resources or intervention techniques used. Perhaps the most important function of an intelligence system is to enable die agency to evaluate its service outcomes. In the final analysis, an agency can justify its existence only if it can show competence in attaining its service objectives. To do so, it must develop reliable procedures to evaluate the use of its services. The problems involved in attempts to measure are extremely complex. They stem from the fact that there is no consensus regarding a norm of "success," nor are there valid and reliable methods to measure success. There is, however, some risk of developing inappropriate output measures. This can be observed when the number of clients seen by staff becomes the measure of success. When this criterion is adopted by staff, it may gear its efforts to obtaining a high ratio of clients per worker while reducing the amount of time spent with each. There is also a tendency of organizations to adopt "symbolic" criteria when faced with the difficulties of developing substantive criteria. Symbolic criteria are testimonies by staff or clients, display of the "successful" client, self-evaluation, and other approaches that may be highly misleading and in fact could cover up serious failures by the organization. Any evaluation of an agency may be painful in that it is likely to expose serious gaps between expectations and accomplishments. Such an exposure may undermine the legitimacy of tlie agency. Yet an agency cannot improve its services if it lacks adequate outcome measures or fears the consqueuces of such measures. In die long run, lack of adequate outcome measures may lead toward tlie deterioration of tlie organization. An agency's service goals are often multidimensional, with various subgoals and tasks. The design of valid and reliable outcome measures requires recognition of this fact. In general, outcome measures should relate to the goals of each subsystem in the agency. Outcome measures differentiate between the initial state of the client at the point of entry and die terminal state of that client at point of exit from the agency. In a complex service program, the new client goes Uirough a series of assessments, which are often updated and corrected with the collection of additional information. These assessments may cover a range of attributes and problems, such as personal care, motivation to participate, health status, financial problems, etc. TheSE include the gamut of areas in which the agency activity plans to intervene in order to improve die status of the client. At point of exit, these same attributes are reassessed and tlie amount of progress shown by the client through actual performance or his own evaluation is recorded. Because an agency mny have succeeded more in some areas than in others, one measure cannot summarize the range of activities undertaken by the agency, nor can it reflect the complexity of attributes and problems presented by the client Multiple measures are necessary. Each of these should include concrete and precise descriptions of client attributes and behaviors. These measures must become an integral part of the service technology itself. They may serve as assessment devices for the client's progress in every stage of his association with the agency. In fact, they should logically follow the activities that have been specified in the service technology. They should be embedded in tlie daily work of the staff and not external measures imposed on the agency without direct reference to what it actually does. Needless to say, such mea- Pragram Development / 477 sures must be constantly reexamined, updated and refined.18 Successful use of measures for service outcome necessitates a comprehensive and effective follow-up system. Without one, the information necessary for evaluation could not be obtained. The basic function of follow-up is to gather the necessary information regarding the consequences for the client of services given. It is the basic mechanism by which the agency can find out what has happened to its clients. Unfortunately, few service agencies have established such sophisticated measures. In a number of cases, in fact, output measures of thß type described could be overly costly in relation to the sopliistlcation of the services provided. CONCLUDING NOTE The process of establishing a new program is highly complex and requires considerations of many inter- and intra-organi-zational factors. It is not surprising, therefore, to End that while community workers and acüon groups may conceive of imaginative and innovative service programs, their ability and success in implementing them are at best modest. As was shown in tlie above discussion, each step in the process of implementation requires a particular set of skills, expertise, and resources. Inability to enlist them at crucial points in the program development may lead to failure or to detrimental consequences in the ability of the program to fulfill its objectives. Thus, the Bystems approach used here alerts die planner-organizer to the intricate interrelations among the various building blocks of the program. It identifies die points at which the establishment of certain subsystems must assume priority over other organizing activities. Nevertheless, it should not be concluded that die model presented here is deterministic, in diat each of tlie steps identified must be so followed. It should not be assumed a priori diat an organization is a tightly coupled system in which each component must be closely articulated with all others. There is evidence to suggest that many programs mny function quite adequately even if some components or subsystems are not fully developed or are not closely inter-linked. The systems approach advocated here enables die planner-organizer to assess at each point in the program development process the need for the establishment of certain organizational components. For example, the planner-organizer may find that a feasibility study is unnecessary since resources have already been earmarked for certain types of programs, or that whatever service technology will be developed, support of key groups in the environment is assured. Moreover, it has been stressed dirough-out that agency or program development involves a great deal of trial and error in die face of many unknown parameters. The approach developed here merely attempts to identify the critical parameters the planner-organizer must consider and thus reduce some of the risks that are inherent in any program implementation. ,FC Weiss, Evaluation Research (Enßtownoii CUfífi, NJ; Prantícc-Hnil, 1972].